Chapters
- Montreal Aftermath (Finished December 10, 2025 14:30 EST)
- New City - New Underground - New Choice (Finished December 11, 2025 14:30 EST)
- A Demonstration of Power (Started December 11, 2025 12:30 EST)
- Graduation Showdown (Coming Soon...)
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National Breast Cancer Foundation [Donate] [Hope Kit] [Women's Programs]
One of their top priorities is educating women on what they can do to be proactive with their breast health. Knowledge and early detection saves lives.
One of their top priorities is educating women on what they can do to be proactive with their breast health. Knowledge and early detection saves lives.
Help research that provides cures and support treatment for sick children.
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The Princess Margaret Foundation
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David Suzuki Foundation
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I'd like to point out that it was the incredible Gary Sinese Foundation that brought the issue of Veteran's rights to my attention. I've always had little respect for those who'd forget the great contribution made by those who've risked life and limb to defend those values that so many of us espouse. Perhaps the true measure of one's principles are by that for which they'd risk their life.
"None can speak more eloquently for peace than those who have fought in war."
Ralph Bunche, Nobel Peace Prize 1950
The ALS Society Of BC
ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig's Disease) is a progressive neuromuscular disease in which nerve cells die and leave voluntary muscles paralyzed. The ALS society provides a variety of programs to combat this disease and help those with it to survive.
Muscular Dystrophy Canada
Muscular Dystrophy Canada’s mission is to enhance the lives of those affected by neuromuscular disorders by continually working to provide ongoing support and resources while relentlessly searching for a cure through well-funded research.
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The Global Foodbanking Network
Ensuring that people the world over have enough food day to day in order to survive and lead healthy lives. In this challenging day and age services like this are becoming more and more essential. This is a world wide charity.
The Edgar Allan Poe Museum
Because Barris told me to put it here. If I didn't, he said he'd walk. Geez. Stardom really gets to some people's heads. Maybe I could kill him and bury his heart beneath the floor boards! Or I could encase him in behind a brick and mortar wall, for shaming my family name of Amantillado!
United Way Worldwide
Two organizations whose contribution of expertise, human and financial resources and volunteer efforts provide humanitarian solutions to real world problems the entire world over. These charities operate worldwide. The United Nations Fund supports the various programs part of the United Nations' global mandate, as much a foundation as it is a roof around the world.
World Veterans Federation (Under Reconstruction) [Wikipedia]
The World Veterans Federation is a humanitarian organization, a charity and a peace activist movement. The WVF maintains its consultative status with the United Nations since 1951 and was conferred the title of “Peace Messenger” in 1987.
The World Veterans Federation is a humanitarian organization, a charity and a peace activist movement. The WVF maintains its consultative status with the United Nations since 1951 and was conferred the title of “Peace Messenger” in 1987.
I'd like to point out that it was the incredible Gary Sinese Foundation that brought the issue of Veteran's rights to my attention. I've always had little respect for those who'd forget the great contribution made by those who've risked life and limb to defend those values that so many of us espouse. Perhaps the true measure of one's principles are by that for which they'd risk their life.
"None can speak more eloquently for peace than those who have fought in war."
Ralph Bunche, Nobel Peace Prize 1950
The Reeve Foundation provides programs for research, uniting Scientists and Specialists from many different fields to find treatments for spinal cord injury translating them into therapies and support programs.
For over 60 years, Heart & Stroke has been dedicated to fighting heart disease and stroke. Our work has saved thousands of lives and improved the lives of millions of others.
The ALS Society Of BC
ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig's Disease) is a progressive neuromuscular disease in which nerve cells die and leave voluntary muscles paralyzed. The ALS society provides a variety of programs to combat this disease and help those with it to survive.
Muscular Dystrophy Canada
Muscular Dystrophy Canada’s mission is to enhance the lives of those affected by neuromuscular disorders by continually working to provide ongoing support and resources while relentlessly searching for a cure through well-funded research.
Humane Society International
The Humane Society protects the health, lives and rights of animals the world over, ensuring that they too have a voice in this world. We are interdependent upon the complex web of life this entire planet over for our mutual survival. This is a world wide charity.
The Global Foodbanking Network
Ensuring that people the world over have enough food day to day in order to survive and lead healthy lives. In this challenging day and age services like this are becoming more and more essential. This is a world wide charity.
The Edgar Allan Poe Museum
Because Barris told me to put it here. If I didn't, he said he'd walk. Geez. Stardom really gets to some people's heads. Maybe I could kill him and bury his heart beneath the floor boards! Or I could encase him in behind a brick and mortar wall, for shaming my family name of Amantillado!
In all truth, there's a good chance that thanks to the works of Edgar Allan Poe, Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain), William Shakespeare, Jane Austen, Jonathan Swift, Mary Shelley, Robert Louis Stevenson, Herbert George Wells, Jules Verne, Dr. Seuss, Stephen King, Clive Barker and Pierre Burton (for The Secret World Of Og and his ground breaking interview of Bruce Lee) that all of us are literate. Actually that goes back much farther to the Phoenecians and their first 22 character system of symbols. Literacy is important. Really it is. Literally. It allows us to approach our employer at the end of the week (with a big club) and ask: where my money?! Math important too. It help us count our thirteen fingers and toes.
Wikipedia
The model for what may become the Encyclopedia Galactica, a complete reference and record of history, events and knowledge of humanity and its journey beyond. It is the encyclopedia of all that we know, what we surmise that we've known and will learn in the future. Yes, Wikipedia is a charitable organization of great importance. If you enjoy what I am doing here then please take the time to donate to Wikipedia. Surprisingly only 1% of Wikipedia's users donate yet the site serves pages to millions every day.
Humble Bundle
A video gaming storefront benefiting a vast variety of different Charities in the United States and United Kingdom (hopefully soon to be expanded to include other areas of the world?). By software their software bundles and choose which Charity your money benefits and how much of your money benefits that Charity. See? Gamers can do their part too.
Wikipedia
The model for what may become the Encyclopedia Galactica, a complete reference and record of history, events and knowledge of humanity and its journey beyond. It is the encyclopedia of all that we know, what we surmise that we've known and will learn in the future. Yes, Wikipedia is a charitable organization of great importance. If you enjoy what I am doing here then please take the time to donate to Wikipedia. Surprisingly only 1% of Wikipedia's users donate yet the site serves pages to millions every day.
Humble Bundle
A video gaming storefront benefiting a vast variety of different Charities in the United States and United Kingdom (hopefully soon to be expanded to include other areas of the world?). By software their software bundles and choose which Charity your money benefits and how much of your money benefits that Charity. See? Gamers can do their part too.
Multiple Sclerosis is a degenerative disease currently affecting an estimated 2.3 million world wide. By donating you are contributing to effective research in finding a cure and tipping the scales of MS research to change lives forever.
If you're a resident of Ontario then please consider supporting Building Better Schools.
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Join World Community Grid
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Warning: This story deals with mature situations and themes. Reader discretion is definitely advised.
Shhhh! Digital Media Presents:
The Butterfly Dragon - Heroes of our Own: Reimagined
by Brian Joseph Johns
Episode 5: Power Shift
Montreal Aftermath
Sixteen Years Ago
Montréal, Quebec
Canada
Marcel sat on the sofa leaning forward on the edge of the cushion, resting his elbows on his knees, the bags under his eyes an indication on how little he'd slept over the last week.
Beside him, Livea was still wiping the same tears of the previous week from her cheeks that had not yet dried. Their home was quiet and eerily somber as Détective Lefrange jotted down notes in his notepad.
[Now forgive me, but I have to ask a few questions that might be difficult for you to answer, but answering them honestly will help us a great deal in finding your daughter. The majority of cases like this often end within the first week, but of those that don't, we've often found that other pressing issues are involved. If you'd share that information with us, that will give us the tools to find your daughter much more effectively and bring this difficult chapter of your lives to a close.]
"Je vous prie de m'excuser, mais je dois vous poser quelques questions auxquelles il sera peut-être difficile de répondre. Cependant, répondre honnêtement nous aidera grandement à retrouver votre fille. La plupart des affaires de ce genre se règlent généralement dans la première semaine, mais lorsque ce n'est pas le cas, nous constatons souvent que d'autres problèmes urgents sont en jeu. Si vous pouviez nous communiquer ces informations, cela nous permettrait de retrouver votre fille beaucoup plus efficacement et de tourner la page sur cette période difficile." Détective Lefrange spoke, looking at Marcel, though he directed it both parents.
[We understand. We'll answer your questions as best we can.]
"Nous comprenons. Nous répondrons à vos questions du mieux que nous pourrons." Marcel replied, Livea closing her fingers around Marcel's closest hand.
[Do you suspect that your daughter might have been using narcotic substances?]
"Soupçonnez-vous que votre fille ait pu consommer des narcotiques?" Détective Lefrange asked Marcel, looking very quickly to Livea, but only enough so to ensure she'd heard him clearly.
[Monique? No. Absolutely not.]
"Monique ? Non. Absolument pas." Marcel's answer was immediate and without contemplation.
[You don't mean that in the sense of family pride, do you? Closing your eyes to a problem you suspect?]
"Vous ne parlez pas de fierté familiale, n'est-ce pas ? Fermer les yeux sur un problème que vous soupçonnez?" Détective Lefrange asked them, this time his gaze was a bit more firm, like that of a man whom had no patience for games.
[No. I... We... have no doubt about that. She's never come home under the influence of anything, and we've never caught her doing anything of that nature. Alone or with friends.]
"Non. Je... Nous... n'avons aucun doute là-dessus. Elle n'est jamais rentrée à la maison sous l'influence de quoi que ce soit, et on ne l'a jamais surprise en train de faire quoi que ce soit de ce genre. Seule ou avec des amis." Marcel responded like a man who was becoming impatient with the insinuations being presented to him.
[Mrs. Lefleur?]
"Madame Lefleur?" Détective Lefrange looked to Livea, almost ignoring Marcel at that point, for he had over the course of his career interviewed men who'd consistently spoken for their wives as a form of suppression. To protect family pride. To hide their dirty little secrets.
[Monique is too stubborn to let anyone push her to a place she doesn't want to go. Believe me, we know this more than anyone would. She has no use or interest in anything of that nature. She wants to be the spectacle of the party, not the party itself.]
"Monique est trop têtue pour se laisser forcer à aller où elle ne veut pas. Croyez-moi, on le sait mieux que quiconque. Ce genre de choses ne l'intéresse pas du tout. Elle veut être le spectacle de la fête, pas la fête elle-même." Livea spoke up, bringing her understanding to the table and backing up what Marcel had already stated.
Détective Lefrange looked at both of them for another moment, watching them carefully for any signs of body language that might betray their words and when he was satisfied that they were being sincere, he returned to his notepad and continued writing shorthand notes for his case records.
[Is there anything else that you'd like to add that might help us to find your daughter?]
"Aimeriez-vous ajouter quelque chose qui pourrait nous aider à retrouver votre fille?" Détective Lefrange's demeanor had change significantly from one of imposing insinuation to sincere interest.
Livea leaned forward and handed her husband a tiny book. The sort of thing that one might find in a stationary store. It was a youth's phonebook, its cover a smorgasbord of artistic cuteness such as hearts, happy faces and smiling kitty cats.
[We found this when we were going through her room. It had fallen off of her bed and was stuck between the mattress and the wall. We bought it for her a few months ago so it should be fairly recent. There's a few names in there, though we circled in red pen the ones that we called and put question marks beside the names of people we don't know.]
"On a trouvé ça en rangeant sa chambre. C'était tombé de son lit et coincé entre le matelas et le mur. On lui a acheté il y a quelques mois, donc ça doit être assez récent. Il y a plusieurs noms dessus, mais on a entouré en rouge ceux des personnes qu'on a appelées et mis des points d'interrogation à côté des noms qu'on ne connaît pas." Livea responded to Détective Lefrange's question, now seated much like her husband on the edge of the cushion beside Marcel as they clasped hands.
[Mrs. Livea. If you wouldn't mind, I have to speak to your husband outside. It was a pleasure speaking with you and we'll do our best to find your daughter, though I'd ask you only to call us if you have anything to add that might help us, rather than badgering us for updates. We'll call you when we have news for you. Mr. Lefleur, if you could join me out by my car?]
"Madame Livea, si ça vous dérange pas, je dois parler à votre mari dehors. Ce fut un plaisir de vous parler et nous ferons tout notre possible pour retrouver votre fille. Je vous serais reconnaissante de nous appeler seulement si vous avez des informations supplémentaires qui pourraient nous être utiles, plutôt que de nous harceler pour avoir des nouvelles. On vous rappellera dès qu'on aura des nouvelles. Monsieur Lefleur, pourriez-vous me rejoindre près de ma voiture?" Détective Lefrange stood from the overstuffed chair in which he'd been seated and returned his notepad to the inside pocket of his trench coat.
[Thank you Détective Lefrange. I look forward to hearing from you when you have news for us. Oh, and there is one more thing. Monique? She's a very clever girl. A bit ditsy sometimes, but I prefer to think that she's using that as camouflage to hide just how clever she really is.]
"Merci, l'inspecteur Lefrange. J'ai hâte d'avoir de tes nouvelles. Ah, et une dernière chose. Monique ? C'est une fille très intelligente. Un peu étourdie parfois, mais je préfère croire qu'elle utilise ça comme camouflage pour cacher son intelligence." Livea explained to Détective Lefrange once upon her feet from the sofa beside her husband.
[Then lets hope she uses that cleverness to help us, not hinder us. Good day to you.]
"Espérons donc qu'elle utilise son intelligence pour nous aider et non pour nous nuire. Bonne journée." Détective Lefrange showed the slight hint of a smile as he responded to Livea, after which he headed for the front door of their home and stepped out onto the front patio.
[I'll be back shortly honey.]
"Je reviens bientôt, chérie." Marcel turned to his wife before stepping out onto the patio behind Détective Lefrange, Livea smiling at him and closing the door after he'd left.
[I did a little checking on the two of you, and there's a file note on your dossier indicating a contact with CSIS and Foreign Affairs. Mr. Alexander Haughton. Just between you and me, do you suspect that might have anything to do with your daughter's disappearance?]
"I did a little checking on the two of you, and there's a file note on your dossier indicating a contact with CSIS and Foreign Affairs. Mr. Alexander Haughton. Just between you and me, do you suspect that might have anything to do with your daughter's disappearance?" Détective Lefrange turned to Marcel upon arriving at the driver's door of his unmarked sedan.
[I defected from the Soviet Union shortly before the fall of the Berlin Wall. From Ukraine. Before the wall fell, we were advised to take alternate identities and to lay low until Canadian Intelligence could ascertain the level of risk to us, though we were not involved in any political or military organizations back then. We were civilians. When the wall fell, CSIS contacted us and told us that we were considered safe and zero risk, though they assured us that they'd keep an eye on things and let us know if that status had changed. Now given the fact that before my daughter's disappearance, she gave a performance that contained potentially controversial political insights related to Ukraine and the recent natural gas distribution deal negotiated between them and Russia. I'm a little bit concerned that she might have unknowingly invited problems related to our defection by attracting attention to us.]
"J'ai fait défection de l'Union soviétique peu avant la chute du mur de Berlin. J'étais ukrainien. Avant la chute du mur, on nous a conseillé de prendre de fausses identités et de rester discrets jusqu'à ce que les services de renseignement canadiens puissent évaluer le niveau de risque que nous encourions, même si nous n'étions impliqués dans aucune organisation politique ou militaire à l'époque. On était des civils. Après que le mur est tombé, le SCRS nous a contactés et nous a informés que nous étions considérés comme sûrs et que nous ne présentions aucun risque. Ils nous ont toutefois assuré qu'ils resteraient vigilants et nous tiendraient au courant si la situation venait à changer. Or, étant donné qu'avant la disparition de ma fille, elle a donné une représentation contenant des réflexions politiques potentiellement controversées sur l'Ukraine et le récent accord de distribution de gaz naturel négocié entre ce pays et la Russie, je crains qu'elle n'ait involontairement attiré l'attention sur nous, ce qui aurait pu engendrer des problèmes liés à notre défection." Marcel explained to Détective Lefrange, who listened carefully to his words.
[I'll be contacting this Mr. Alexander Haughton then and bringing him up to date. We'll keep this aspect of this case between us and I'd advise you not to discuss this with your wife for her safety. Now, insofar as being solicited by separatists, I've spoken with the operations managers of the Parti Québécois, Québec solidaire, Climat Québec and Parti pour l'indépendance du Québec. They assured me that if they notice any mention of your daughter's performance, that they'll contact me with details, especially in the event of there being anything of a radical nature. As I stated, we'll be keeping these details between you and I. I'll call you tomorrow and give you an update about the situation with Mr. Haughton. Have a good day and try to get some rest, Mr. Lefleur. Keep the faith.]
"Je vais donc contacter M. Alexander Haughton pour le tenir informé. Nous garderons cet aspect de l'affaire confidentiel et je vous conseille de ne pas en parler à votre femme, pour sa sécurité. Concernant les sollicitations de séparatistes, j'ai parlé aux responsables des opérations du Parti Québécois, de Québec solidaire, de Climat Québec et du Parti pour l'indépendance du Québec. Ils m'ont assuré que s'ils entendent parler de la performance de votre fille, ils me contacteront pour me donner des détails, surtout si ça prend une tournure radicale. Comme je l'ai dit, on va garder ces détails pour nous. Je t'appellerai demain pour te donner des nouvelles de M. Haughton. Bonne journée et reposez-vous bien, M. Lefleur. Gardez espoir." Détective Lefrange opened the door of his sedan and got into the driver's seat as Marcel returned to his family home.
As Détective Lefrange drove off, Marcel grabbed up his wife in his arms, wrapping his around her and the two met in a firm embrace.
[Don't worry honey. Everything is going to be alright.]
"Ne t'en fais pas, ma chérie. Tout va bien se passer." Marcel's words were as warm and soft as her hands.
New City - New Underground - New Choice
Sixteen Years Ago
Toronto, Ontario
Canada
Monique awoke with a start, her neck slightly sore from the awkward position in which she'd been sleeping. She rolled over onto her back, and then inclined the seat of the car until it was upright, after which she wiped her eyes and yawned, getting a whiff of her own morning breath.
"What time is it?" she asked Samias, but there came no answer.
She looked to the driver's seat and saw that it was empty. She then looked to the building behind which they were parked and saw that the lights were on through a window near the shipping door. She propped open the car door and got out, brushing the crumbs from the pizza slices they'd eaten the night before onto the asphalt.
She then slammed the door shut and went over to the shipping door and tapped on it.
She heard muffled voices from behind the door, and then the door slowly opened and a short gruff man in blue mechanic's coveralls opened the door.
"You must be Monique... I'm Caroona, but my friends call me Cacky for some reason. Go figure," he smiled at her, revealing his tobacco stained teeth.
"Don't you be flirtin' with my girl, yo," Samias was quick to respond as he arrived from somewhere else in the building.
"Nice to meet you Caroona. Do you guys have a washroom in here or somewhere a girl can cleanup?" Monique asked Caroona.
"You can use our bathroom if you'd like. There's no shower or anything, but you can at least take care of other matters if you'd like?" Caroona said helpfully, gesturing for her to come into the building.
She stepped in and he closed the door behind her.
"How old are you by the way?" Caroona asked her.
"I'm eighteen..." Monique lied.
"Fair enough. Go use the bathroom then. Its a bit dirty but there's soap, a sink and a toilet if you need it," Caroona said to her, and she disappeared down the hall in the direction he'd gestured.
"Now. Have you come to a decision on the car?" asked Samias of Caroona.
"Its a nice one, I'll give you that. Good condition. The engine's barely broken in. Its going to take me some extra work to grind the serial numbers from the chassis and to rewrite the eeprom on the computer, not to mention the fact that I'll have use a bootleg eeprom seeing as you can't overwrite the serial number on modern eeproms. That section of the memory is ROM. Unwriteable. I'll give you nine for it. I'll even throw in the apartment above the shop for three months for you and your girl. Whaddaya say?" asked Caroona of Samias.
"Ten and you've got yourself a deal," Samias responded.
"Nine five, and no hang outs or parties in that apartment. You got it?!!!" Caroona replied.
"Deal my man," Samias slapped his hand into Caroona's and they shook on it with a good old fashions shake of the hood.
"If you happen across anymore out of city deals like this one, you've got a good line on income, but you've got to keep the trail clean. We don't want the big man coming down on us. I've got a tidy and tight little operation here and this one has been a real bread winner for this hood. You look after me, and I'll make sure you always have cash on hand. Got it?" Caroona confirmed with Samias, still holding his hand.
"You can count on dat. Know what I'm sayin' bro?" Samias slapped the palm of Caroona's hand.
"Alright then. I'm gonna get those serial numbers off and begin on the computer. Here's the key to the apartment. Its a bit of a mess right now. I was half-way through renovating it before I gave up. Me and the other mechanics use it as a break room, but now that you're in there, we'll only go up there if you invite us. If you want it to look good, go for it. All the materials are there, you just need a bit of elbow grease, or if you'd prefer, hire someone from that chunk of nine five change I'll be givin' you in just a moment," Caroona said to Samias as he headed for his office.
"You da best man. You da man!" Samias smiled, nodding his head, his jaw jutted outward territorially.
Monique emerged from the washroom, somewhat more perky and clean, though still absent of a shower and a tooth brush.
"See Monique. We've been here like six hours, and I've already got an apartment for us. Three months paid in advance. Know what I'm sayin'?" Samias said to her proudly.
"I need some toothpaste... and some amenities. Where can I go shopping?" Monique asked Samias.
"Yo! Caroona? Where can my girl go shopping around here?" asked Samias.
"There's a mall about a kilometer and a half from here. They got everything, just don't ask to borrow my car. Take a cab..." Caroona's voice emerged from behind the halfway closed door of his office.
"Ok. Can I use your phone here? My boyfriend won't let me use mine until I have a new SIM card for it?" Monique asked Caroona.
"Be my guest. Its on the front desk. Just tell them you're going to the big Mall," Caroona responded, emerging from the office.
"I'm on it. We're going to be needing some groceries and stuff. I wouldn't want to miss out on my big chance to play house," Monique winked at Samias and found her way down the hall to the front desk and the landline phone.
"She's a sparky girl that one. Has a head on her shoulders too. Don't mess it up. Here's your do re mi," Caroona handed Samias a wad of cash, composed of ninety hundreds, accented by a stack of twenty-five twenties.
"You were sayin' about wantin' more out of city cars? Like what cities are we talkin' about?" asked Samias as he counted the money a second time.
"Richmond Hill maybe? Newmarket? Brampton? I'd say Hamilton, but I already got a source there," Caroona threw out a few names.
"I'm on it. I'll get you another within a week's time. Monique? Daddy's got some coin for your shopping expedition. Know what I'm sayin'?" Samias counted out fifteen twenties from his wad of cash and made his way up the hall to the front desk.
"Take this and take a cab up to the grocery store and get us some food. When you're done, come back here and I'll let you cook me up a meal. You do know how to cook, don't you?" Samias said to her as if he was doing her a favour.
"Like yeah. You just open up the can and put it in a pot and heat it up. Of course I know how to cook!" Monique said defensively, never really having had an interest in learning how to cook for her parents were both very good at it and had taken care of that aspect of her entire life.
"No. That's not what I'm sayin'. Like if I want a roast, I want you to be able to cook a meal. Like you lookin' after the kitchen and cleaning and shite, and me going out there and bringing home the bacon," Samias said to her, having come to understand the nature of relationships very differently than Monique.
His own father had been the proverbial man of the house, though he had a bumpy a start in life as had his son. He'd never held a job in his life, and most of his income was arrived at through one scam or another by the sheer feat of his motivation to survive. His father saw the family unit in a very distinct and firm way, each member having their roles that were predetermined by gender and fate and the hierarchy of the family and none were to live above or beyond their roles or exceed them in any way.
For Samias' mother, that arrangement was just fine. As long as she did her part for the whole, the crap that often would come down the line from her husband's illicit activities would have no affect upon her, and she'd never take responsibility for them either. She'd never betray him or turn him over. She just accepted that she was a part of the machinations of what it meant to be a family by their understanding of the concept and what it took to survive in a world that seemed to pit them on one side of the fence permanently.
Both Monique and Samias were young and perhaps ignorant enough to assume that every other family in the world were exactly like theirs. That all men and women who had children together simply lived by the exact same ideas as had their parents. Now that they'd made the choice to attempt to start just such a unit as had begat each of them, they were learning the truth about their assumptions and that despite getting along, they'd never truly known each other. They were as different from each other, as their mutual parents were different. They were too inexperienced to understand that they weren't starting a family. They were just two immature youths trying to play house, and the wages of crime, though in all honesty, Monique still didn't know or suspect the nature of how Samias had accrued his earnings.
He kept her in the dark, not to protect her, but to protect himself, for the less she knew, the less she could share in the event of her being questioned by the authorities.
Now that it had come down to the basic aspects of modern survival, such as having to look after the contents of one's own fridge and how those contents made their way from that appliance, to the stove and then onto a plate, they were quickly learning the limits of their experience compared to that of their parents and that the example they'd learned from their parents was essentially useless without the actual application of the same. For either of them, the fridge had magically filled itself, and had magically made its way onto the stove and then onto their plate. The pressures of life, let alone those of Samias' chosen means to income were quickly bearing down upon them.
However, Monique was far too stubborn to give up, and Samias knew that it was he riding her coat tails more so than vice versa. She'd always have options he'd never have, until he'd brought her into his world. He knew that if and when he did so, that at that point, he'd have the power over her and she'd forever be caught in his web, but that process was a long and arduous one. If she found out the true nature of his acumen too early, she'd turn tail and run, possibly to the law. If however, he slowly lured her into his world, giving her small bits and pieces over a long period of time, she'd eventually pass the point of no return and be as much a party to his choices in life as was he. At that point, she'd be entirely reliant upon him, though he'd essentially use the better aspects of her being to propel his life and career in his chosen field, and she'd have nowhere to run.
When his own father had done the exact same thing to his mother, his father had from that point in time sought intimate relations outside of their marriage. First with one woman on the side, and then three, eventually having seven children with other women unbeknownst to either Samias or his mother, though even if Samias mother had found out, she'd have had no choice but to stay. Samias' father was his secret teacher, though there had never been an exchange between them of such knowledge. It had just found its way from his father to him via osmosis of the soul. Unbeknownst to Samias, he was already taking the nearly identical first steps to becoming his father.
"What's that supposed to mean?!!!" Monique suddenly became defensive, moving closer to him rather than receding from him as he'd assumed she would.
"Look. This has to work a certain way you know. You get the house going, and I'll get the cash. Its that simple..." Samias, though immediately intimidated by her, perhaps even fearful of her, held his ground, especially knowing that Caroona was so nearby.
He didn't want his friends to see him outdone by a woman.
"What about my life? My career? Do you expect me to just throw on an apron and tend to all of your needs? What about my future?!!!" Monique fired back at him.
"Look. I know you want to be like a show girl or somethin'... and I can help you get there. Know what I'm sayin'? But you gotta trust me, and I gotta eat to bring home the bacon. I like my place taken care of, and that's what a woman does best. Take care of the place. Take care of her man, and her man takes care of her. Now me being the kind of man I am... I'll take care of your future, and you will be a show girl... Showing everyone what you got. I promise you that..." Samias' words were both soothing and insidious, for his ideas of her future and hers were two very different things.
"I'm going to do the shopping today, and I'm going to cook too. But this isn't what I do and it isn't going to be what I do all the time. Not to mention, you're not going to so much as touch me until I'm ready, and until I see that you're worth what I have to give," Monique stood her ground against Samias, who was much taller than her and he seemed to shrink ever so slightly by her words.
Inside however, he was looking forward to both taming and crushing that spirit. Of herding her into a pen and breaking her, and when he had done as much, he'd keep her while finding another.
"You go do that and we'll get this thing going. Just give me a chance. I mean, look at my track record. Forty-eight hours and we have ten grand, and a place guaranteed for three months so far. That's from zero to way up there. Know what I'm sayin'?" Samias remained slightly shrunken, and slowly shifted the discrepancy between her aspirations and his desires into her lap without her being aware.
"Fair enough. But if I cook, we have to stay in tonight and watch a movie together and I get to pick," Monique smiled, giving in despite making it seem like she was in control.
"We'll do that. I think your cab is here," Samias said to her as a car could be heard beeping outside of the shop.
"See you soon!" Monique leaned forward and he leaned down, allowing her to plant a kiss on his cheek.
She then ran out to the cab and drove off into morning traffic.
"Women..." Samias said, shaking his head as Caroona arrived from the bay where he'd propped up the stolen car.
"Yeah, she's a fiery one that one. Must be the French in her," Caroona said to him, careful with his words.
"Give it a bit. I'll have her tamed and trained, and another one of the side," Samias said, feeling the anger and frustration rising in him that he'd let her embarrass him in front of his friends.
A Demonstration of Power
Sixteen Years Ago
Torre Banco Popular Berrio
Medellin, Columbia
The elevator door opened and a uniformed security guard stepped out and into the darkness of a floor entirely under construction. The twentieth floor of the building had remained in limbo for a few years since its lease was taken up by a hedge fund, who'd began renovating the floor at that time. The walls had been removed, leaving only the supports and exterior windows, and several well organized storage areas of materials in each of the floor's sectors.
The security guard stepped out into the construction zone, examining the floor to ensure that none of the other clients of the building had been using it for their own purposes, such as employees sneaking up for a cigarette or even for private parties as had occurred on one occasion.
The security guard himself had done this patrol twice a day since his having been hired and was quite familiar with the place, though he found it odd that the floor had remained unfinished though construction crews would occasionally arrive and install some new feature. To him, it appeared as if the entire floor had been changed little over the time he'd been tasked with patrolling it as part of his daily route.
He walked up to one of the exterior windows into an imaginary corner office, admiring the view of Medellin that it offered him, even wondering if he himself one day might have such an office when he was part of upper management of the same security firm.
He turned and continued his patrol route, rounding the last leg and headed back towards the elevator, using the key to call it up to the floor. When it arrived, he stepped into it and disappeared behind the closing doors, descending into his afternoon shift.
The floor remained silent for another five minutes before the sound of a solitary voice hidden beneath what appeared to be a stack of dry wall spoke from within.
"Red crown, this is Bravo One. Torre Banco SecOps just finished their patrol, over," the operator spoke into his military class encrypted portable radio headset.
"Bravo One, this is Red crown. What is your equipment status? over," the response came back through the operator's headset.
"Red crown, equipment status ready. Standing by for your orders, over," the operator replied.
"Bravo One, we have a network connection with your node. Deploy the LAIR and begin your monitoring operations. Over," the response came.
"Deploying LAIR. Synchronizing and we have signal. Audio at ninety-four percent SNR and video at sixty-two SNR. Over," the operator responded, watching through the micro-LED panel the feedback from the LAIR device.
A LASER reticle system was directed at a building two hundred meters away, and sixteen floors taller, through a security mirror from which the LASER was reflected rebounding off of a nearby window and then into a large corner office, from where it reflected the acoustic resonance, and visual reflection information back to the LAIR receiver along the same multi-reflection path.
The operator listened to the conversation within the office as it unfolded:
[Mr. Arrio. %#$%@&# has arrived on the floor. #%@ is alone. Would you like us to detain #%$?]
"El Sr. Arrio. %#$%@&# ha llegado al piso. #%@ está solo. ¿Quiere que detengamos a #%$?" a slightly distorted voice emanated from the headset of the operator as he listened in to the conversation and watched live surveillance video being reflected through a LASER measuring the reflectivity and resonance of glass surfaces in the same office.
"Red crown, I'm receiving interference beyond the threshold. Could you confirm SNR? Over," the operator interjected.
"Bravo One, we're reading ninety-four percent SNR. Over," the response came.
"Red crown, I'm losing key details as to the identity of Upsilon on audio, over," the operator informed his operational contact.
"Bravo One, proceed with operation, over," his contact ordered him.
[Search #$@ and let #%$ in. I don't want %$# to suspect anything. I'm a good host. #%$ will receive the best treatment, right up until the end.]
"Busca #$@ y deja entrar a #%$. No quiero que %$# sospeche nada. Soy un buen anfitrión. #%$ recibirá el mejor trato, hasta el final." Mr. Arrio responded to his security specialist as the operator watched the scene unfolding through the LED panel of the LAIR device.
The operator watched as the door to the office opened and someone whose image was pixelated as if censored, stepped into the office accompanied by two security specialists, each of whom directed the guest to a nearby chair which sat in front of Mr. Arrio's desk.
"Red crown, could you confirm video SNR? over," the operator requested.
"Bravo One, video SNR is at sixty-three percent and holding. Over," the response arrived.
"I'm not seeing any identifying features of Upsilon. Its as if they're all obscured. Contextually, over," the operator informed his contact.
"Bravo One. Proceed with operation, over," the order came back.
[$&@#$%, what a pleasure it is to see you again. Its been a while.]
"&@#$%, qué placer volver a verte. Ha pasado tanto tiempo." Mr. Arrio stood from his desk to greet Upsilon as the operator watched through the LED panel of the LAIR device, any details of the identity of Upsilon obscured.
Inside of the office however, the meeting continued and Alomera Constanza Zekestes looked to his host with the hint of a smile.
[Luis. It has been some time. Ten years perhaps? It seems that all of this excess has found its way to your belly?]
"Luis. Ha pasado tiempo. ¿Diez años quizás? ¿Parece que todo este exceso se te ha colado en el estómago?" Alomera extended his hand and Luis (Mr. Arrio) stepped out from behind of his desk and greeted Alomera with a handshake and a quick embrace, with the customary patting of each others' back.
[My old friend, you know how it is. The hunger for money, and power? It begins in the heart. The heavier it becomes, the further down it sinks.]
"Mi viejo amigo, ya sabes cómo es. ¿El ansia de dinero y poder? Empieza en el corazón. Cuanto más pesada se vuelve, más se hunde." Mr. Arrio responded with a sinister smile as he returned to his chair.
[Then I'm glad I'm not speaking to you ten years on, because I don't think I could bare the site of you having balls as big as your belly.]
"Entonces me alegro de no hablarte dentro de diez años, porque no creo que pudiera soportar verte con unos huevos tan grandes como tu barriga." Alomera responded to Luis, whose face lost some of the edge of its former ferocity.
[So tell me. What brings you to Medellin on such short notice?]
"Dime, ¿qué te trae a Medellín con tan poca antelación?" Mr. Arrio leaned back in his chair, opening the drawer of his desk and drawing forth from it a box Montecristo cigars.
He pushed the box across the desk, and it slid to the edge just short of falling over onto the floor. Mr. Arrio looked to Alomera as if the offering had opened an old wound in the heart of the man sitting across the desk from him.
[No thank you. My mother used to hand these out to visiting dignitaries in one of Bautista's Casinos.]
"No, gracias. Mi madre solía repartirlas a los dignatarios que visitaban uno de los casinos de Bautista." Alomera responded, seemingly unfazed by Luis' attempt to harm him.
[I'm sure that's not all that she handed out.]
"Estoy segura de que eso no es todo lo que ella repartió." Mr. Arrio replied, trying his best to open a wound he'd missed in his first attempt.
[You're right, and I commend you for honouring my mother in such a noble way. She handed out her grace and dignity in droves to men who smoked those Montecristo in droves. Sucking on them with such obsession that I'd have to wonder if their fixation was not upon the phallus of other men?]
"Tienes razón, y te felicito por honrar a mi madre con tanta nobleza. Ella repartía su gracia y dignidad en masa a hombres que fumaban esos Montecristo en masa. Los chupaban con tal obsesión que me pregunto si su fijación no era con el falo de otros hombres." Alomera remained calm and calculated.
Both impregnable and unmoved by Luis' attempt to rouse him from his center.
[Tell me, Alomera. What kept you from coming to me, and seeking the bold future offered only by the coca leaf? The most profitable crop in all of history, and you find it somehow unacceptable despite the fact that the rest of the swarthy swine West, have gone and made it illegal. Contraband. Did you know that at one point, they even tried to make sugar into contraband. Making it illegal and taxing it? Why is it that every single market topping resource crop in South America has been made illegal at some point? If you want to talk about who is fixated on the phallus of other men, then perhaps you should reconsider your stance against the coca leaf. You betray your own people while the West makes our strongest crops the foundation of their law enforcement economy. Not only am I an exporter of the most profitable crop in the world, but I'm the driving force behind a global economy that pays the salaries of Police everywhere.]
"Dime, Alomera. ¿Qué te impidió venir a mí y buscar el futuro audaz que solo ofrece la hoja de coca? El cultivo más rentable de toda la historia, y lo encuentras de alguna manera inaceptable a pesar de que el resto del Oeste, de tez morena y cerdo, lo ha ilegalizado. Contrabando. ¿Sabías que en algún momento incluso intentaron convertir el azúcar en contrabando? ¿Ilegalizándolo y gravándolo? ¿Por qué todos los cultivos de recursos que encabezan el mercado en Sudamérica se han ilegalizado en algún momento? Si quieres hablar de quién está obsesionado con el falo de otros hombres, entonces quizás deberías reconsiderar tu postura contra la hoja de coca. Traicionas a tu propia gente mientras Occidente hace de nuestros cultivos más fuertes la base de su economía policial. No solo soy un exportador del cultivo más rentable del mundo, sino que soy el motor de una economía global que paga los salarios de la policía en todas partes." Mr. Arrio retaliated, esssentially emptying his entire arsenal in one well delivered oration.
[My friend. Economy is not about fooling people into buying what they believe they need. Dependency. Addiction, but in making them buy what they don't know they need until they lose it. Their privacy. Their secrets. Your entire coca leaf economy is preventing the customer base from earning their keep to pay for it, and hence the West will forever create economies to crush you and profit by it, while hiding their secrets. Their sins behind their walls of money and GNP and GDP. You know what that means, right? What is the effect upon the GDP per capita of the poor souls you use to run the coca leaf from secret growing locations into processing plants? Their quality of life is measured in pennies compared to what the West makes in fighting against you. You aren't helping South America at all. You're cheating my people while making the rest of the West rich. Those people who smuggle your coca leaf would never have a belly like yours. I think that its time that we rewrote the South American economy into something that makes those hypocrites answer, and gives us our due.]
"Amigo mío. La economía no se trata de engañar a la gente para que compre lo que cree necesitar. Dependencia. Adicción, sino de obligarlos a comprar lo que no saben que necesitan hasta que lo pierden. Su privacidad. Sus secretos. Toda su economía de la hoja de coca impide que sus clientes se ganen el sustento para pagarla, y por lo tanto, Occidente siempre creará economías para aplastarlos y lucrarse con ello, mientras oculta sus secretos. Sus pecados tras sus muros de dinero, PNB y PIB. Sabes lo que eso significa, ¿verdad? ¿Cuál es el efecto sobre el PIB per cápita de las pobres almas que utilizan para transportar la hoja de coca desde cultivos secretos hasta plantas de procesamiento? Su calidad de vida se mide en centavos comparada con lo que Occidente gana luchando contra ustedes. No están ayudando en absoluto a Sudamérica. Están engañando a mi gente mientras enriquecen al resto de Occidente. Quienes contrabandean su hoja de coca nunca tendrían una barriga como la suya. Creo que es hora de que reescribamos la economía sudamericana para que obligue a esos hipócritas a responder y nos den lo que nos corresponde." Alomera leaned forward, sliding the box of cigars back across the table at Luis.
[Would you like to suck on more phallus my friend? Because that's all that you've been doing your entire life. Just not that of your own people.]
"¿Te gustaría chupar más falo, amigo? Porque eso es todo lo que has hecho toda tu vida. Solo que no el de tu propia gente." Alomera added, and a look of intense pain crossed Luis' face.
He struggled for a moment, grasping at his chest. He leaned forward in his chair and began coughing as the anger and rage filled him.
[You bastard. Your mother was a whore for the Bautista regime. You want to talk about playing with phallus, she was an expert at it! I think this conversation is at an end, my friend. My heart will survive this meeting, but you I'm afraid, will not.]
"Cabrón. Tu madre era una prostituta del régimen Bautista. ¿Quieres hablar de jugar con el falo? ¡Era una experta en eso! Creo que esta conversación ha terminado, amigo. Mi corazón sobrevivirá a este encuentro, pero tú, me temo, no." Mr. Arrio stood from his chair and gestured to the two men standing near the door, bracketing either side of it.
They reached into their jackets and withdrew nine millimeter handguns, each of them affixing what appeared to be cigar shaped silencers to the muzzle end of their weapons.
[Funny you should resort to such ends. When I came in here, my standing orders to my men were that you were going to be the judge of your own fate. Ironic that your end should come by sucking on the phallus of their silenced weapons.]
"Es curioso que recurras a tales fines. Cuando llegué aquí, mis órdenes a mis hombres eran que serías el juez de tu propio destino. Es irónico que tu fin llegara chupando el falo de sus armas silenciadas." Alomera held up his right hand, presenting a peace sign to Luis.
[Your men? They're my men! Kill him!]
"¿Tus hombres? ¡Son mis hombres! ¡Mátalo!" Mr. Arrio stood from his chair and slammed his hands down on the desk.
The security specialists level both of their weapons at Alomera momentarily, and then raised them and aimed directly at Mr. Arrio's fat belly.
They fired three times each.
[Owww! Right in the hunger for money and power. At least it wasn't in his balls.]
"¡Ay! Justo en el afán de dinero y poder. Al menos no estaba en sus pelotas." Alomera stood and faced the security specialists, who walked over to Luis' desk, where he was fallen behind the desk and still struggling to get to his feet.
[Finish him.]
"Acabar con él." Alomera ordered his men.
...
"Red crown, shots fired. Luis Arrio is down. Negative on identifying features of Upsilon, over," the operator reported to his contact.
"Bravo One, extract immediately along route November Sierra, over," his contact ordered him.
He immediately pulled a key from his kit and used it to unlock a primer, which he then primed three times and discharged. The LAIR device began smoking as the operator opened a secret door on the camouflage drywall stack. He exited through the door as white phosphorous melted the electronics of the LAIR device, rending it into a lump of melted metal and silicon.
He grabbed his construction helmet and headed for the elevator, finding his service key on his belt and ensuring that the rest of his disguise was in place.
He used the key to call the elevator to the twentieth floor and waited while the elevator made its way up.
When the door to the elevator opened, he didn't have time to react to the same security guard, who now held a silenced firearm directly at the operator's head.
The security guard pulled the trigger three times and the operator fell to the floor dead.
Alomera Constanza Zekestes looked out the window to a building two hundred meters away. Towards the building and office where they had been observed by the now destroyed LAIR device. Alomera looked to a twenty story building.
[What's our status?]
"¿Cual es nuestro estado?" asked Alomera of the security specialists who'd just finished Luis.
That same security specialist echoed the question to a man on the other end of his headset, nodding his head as the response came in. When it had, he relayed it to the new man in charge.
[Tango down.]
"Tango abajo." he responded to Alomera.
...
A few blocks away, inside of a seedy office beset by the rattling noise of the two nearly broken down air conditioners running on high to keep the place cool, a group of three men were seated. One of them on a leather sofa, tucked into its corner, his left arm stretched across the back of the sofa, his right across the arm rest, revealing the pistol holstered under his left arm pit. The second man sat leaning forward in the guest chair on the other side of a desk, playing with the ends of his moustache, while the third sat behind the desk and in front of what appeared to be an old decrepit radio base station, querying someone on the other end:
"Bravo One, this is Red crown. Do you copy? over," he tried once again, eagerly awaiting any response.
"We're a minute over his response window. We have to abort," the man seated on the sofa said firmly to the man behind the desk.
"You two start the shut down procedure. I'll get the radio. We should be able to make the next flight to Albrook, Panama," the radio operator ordered the two other men, each of whom stood and began the process.
One of them went over to one of the filing cabinet, unlocked it and pulled a rack of hard disk drives from within. He then took them over to a nearby bench to where a strange looking device, similar to a clothes iron lay on its side. A warning on its side read: ¡Atención! Campo magnético.
He placed each of the hard disks one by one on the bench and wielded the strange looking device, pulling a trigger on it and waving the bottom end just above each hard disk for a couple of seconds, effectively wiping them of any data.
By that time the other man was retrieving file folders from the same filing cabinet, one drawer above from where the hard disks had been taken. He began feeding the papers from each file into a paper shredder, watching as its transparent bin filled with their shredded documents.
When he'd finished, he went over to what appeared to be a barrel top table, atop of which a nice vase sat. He removed the vase, placing it on the floor and then broke a seal, opening the table revealing a sealed barrel within which was filled with a sharply scented pungent liquid. He then began feeding the shredded paper into the barrel, which immediately began fizzing as he put more and more of the paper in.
The radio operator had retrieved the innards of the radio itself, which were state of the art and had merely been housed in a older radio's bezel and frame. He put the radio equipment and encrypted mission recordings into anti-static bags he'd retrieved from the desk and then inserted them into a security shielding brief case, closing and locking it.
"I'll get the phone line," the radio operator informed the other men.
As he proceeded towards the office door, the phone on his desk started ringing.
He immediately looked to the other men, and then ran to the phone to check the LED display for any caller information.
"Sh#t. Its coming from Arrio's office," the radio operator told the two men.
The radio operator slowly reached for the hand set, picking it up and placing it against his face.
[Senzsola Real Estate. Riccardo speaking. How may I help you?]
"Senzsola Bienes Raíces. Habla Riccardo. ¿En qué puedo ayudarle?" he answered the phone with a nervous smile on his face, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead.
"Its me. Upsilon. With whom am I really speaking?" Alomera asked through a voice altering device he'd affixed to Arrio's land line phone as he sat behind his desk, his feet propped up beside the computer keyboard.
[I'm sorry, but there's no-one here by that name. Would you like to speak to a licensed real estate specialist? We have a number of investment properties available?]
"Lo siento, pero no hay nadie con ese nombre. ¿Le gustaría hablar con un agente inmobiliario con licencia? Tenemos varias propiedades de inversión disponibles." the radio operator maintained his bluff.
"No. Its alright. I'm not in the market for any investment properties, though you might consider the position you're now in a bit more carefully before you try to flee," Alomera said calmly, the device changing his voice to sound much deeper and more menacing.
[Will that be all sir? I can have a specialist return your call?]
"¿Eso es todo, señor? ¿Puedo pedirle a un especialista que le devuelva la llamada?" the radio operator continued his ruse in character.
"You still don't get it, do you. Answer the door nicely and I'll make this much easier on you than it might otherwise be..." Alomera offered the radio operator shortly before there was a knock at the office door where the three men were finishing up their terminating procedures.
The man dealing with the hard disks stopped and withdrew his pistol from its holster. Backing away from the bench while facing the office door until he was situated behind the filing cabinet, using it for cover.
The man dealing with the paper files had just finished emptying the shredded paper from the bin, and was now sharing a spot behind the desk with the radio operator, each of them using it for cover as they watched the office door.
There was another knock at the door, a bit louder than the first.
The three men remained quiet, the radio operator carefully hanging up the phone.
They heard the sound of a key in the lock, and the door handle slowly started to turn.
The radio operator signaled the hard drive man to cover them from his position as the other two men pulled their pistols and leveled them at the door, across the desk.
The door slowly opened, and a cannister was tossed into the room. It rolled across the floor until it hit the front right leg of the desk, where it stopped as the office door slowly closed again.
"Its a drone!" the hard drive man announced as the cannister suddenly burst, thick acrid smoke pouring forth from its innards and very quickly filling the room.
The three men had each used their jackets to cover their mouths and eyes, though it did very little to protect them as their skin quickly reddened and was covered with a serious rash and acid burns.
One of the men, the man that had been shredding the papers had accidently inhaled a bit of the smoke and began coughing furiously, phlegm pouring from his mouth and nose as he struggled to catch his breath.
The hard drive man turned and began hammering on the window with the butt of his pistol, breaking the glass, which fell crashing to the office floor within, and outside two stories to the alley below, hitting a fire escape outside of the window before free falling to the ground.
He chipped away at the rest of the glass and then attempted to slip out and onto the fire escape. As he fell onto the steel grate, he gasped for air, then noticing a pair of men on either side of him already situated on the fire escape, each of them wearing gas masks to cover their faces, and rubber glovers that went up to their elbows. They each wielded 9mm submachine guns, which were directed at him as he struggled to breath.
One of the men with the gas masks used the butt of the arm stock to rend the hard drive man unconscious. The other one fastened his arms behind his back with a quick tie, and then blind folded him while inside of the office, another two men, similarly equipped with gas masks and rubber gloves, had entered and were securing the remaining men. The paper shredder and the radio operator, each of whom were viciously coughing, their eyes watering, and mouths slimy with saliva as they choked.
The smoke continued to pour out of the window for another ten minutes until it had entirely dissipated. At that point, they escorted their captives to a waiting van. None of the onlookers that had seen the men interfered with them or even attempted to stop them. The four of them merely loaded their captives blind-folded into a van in broad daylight and then disappeared in the maze of Medellin city streets.
Thirty-three hours later and Alomera had every detail of the intelligence operation that had been mounted against him to obtain his identity. That information would then be used for future operations that would eventually seek to eliminate him and acquire his assets. Satisfied, knowing these details, he celebrated.
He'd kept all three men, who were now captives and being shipped to another secret location after their successful interrogation.
Not only was Alomera in control of all cartel activities in Columbia, Peru and Bolivia, but he was also in complete control of the world's supply of coca leaves, though money was the least of his concerns, for he was secretly so, the richest man in the world by more than twice the fortune of his nearest contemporary. His industrial empire alone made up forty-three percent of the foundation of global manufacturing of every kind, the world over and he could have anything that money could buy, and most certainly already did.
His network had tendrils into every country in the world. Intricately woven into their black market economies, there was no place in the globe that he could not reach to affect in some devastating way.
What he truly sought however, was beyond what money alone could afford him, so he began building what he needed to make it happen.
An offshore server complex in international waters that housed a dark and dirty database of secrets. When he was done building such a thing, he then focused upon filling it with much the same.
Graduation Showdown
Sixteen years ago,
Toronto, Ontario
Canada.
More to come in this episode...
To be continued in... The Butterfly Dragon: Heroes of our Own Reimagined: Episode 6 - Doctor Westin
Credits and attribution:
Story written by Brian Joseph Johns
Reedsy.com for their many helpful resources and tools especially geared towards assisting independent and published writers craft their prose to perfection.
DeepSeek AI for a remarkable conversation about genetics and information theory, from which I derived the computer program analogy of genetic biology and a few other references (such as how to calculate the length of the hypoteneuse from the tangent).
This content is entirely produced in Toronto, Ontario, Canada, with contributions from others around the world listed here in the credits.
Artwork: Amy Wong, Wendy Pusey, Ghastly, Birdman, Brian Joseph Johns, Daz3D, Unreal Engine...
Tools: Daz3D, Corel Painter, Adobe Photoshop, Lightwave 3D, Blender, Stable Diffusion (Easy Diffusion distribution), InstantID, Sadtalker, Google Colaboratory, Microsoft Copilot (Windows 11), Hitfilm, PhotoPea (a great web based Photoshop stand-in if you're on a low budget or in a pinch), Borderline Obsession...
DeepSeek AI for suggestions on exercises to improve aspects of describing scene and settings with a more sensory focused grammar.
InstantID by: Wang, Qixun and Bai, Xu and Wang, Haofan and Qin, Zekui and Chen, Anthony. Research Paper Title: InstantID - Zero-shot Identity-Preserving Generation in Seconds.
Sadtalker by: Zhang, Wenxuan and Cun, Xiaodong and Wang, Xuan and Zhang, Yong and Shen, Xi and Guo, Yu and Shan, Ying and Wang, Fei.
Research Paper Title: SadTalker: Learning Realistic 3D Motion Coefficients for Stylized Audio-Driven Single Image Talking Face Animation.
Gratitude: Our Mentors, Senseis, Sifus, Sebomnims, lifetime inspirations, family, friends, the Nomads (ask Stanton about that one), the Music, the Movies, the Theatre, the Arts, ASMR, (both YouTube and Bilibili and the many other creators on those platforms), the Gaming and Developer communities and of course, the audience.
Martial Arts (in the words of real experts and at least one comedian): https://brucelee.com (home of the real Dragon and an entire family of inspirations), http://iwco.online International Wing Chun Organization (International presence of a very scalable intensity martial art, protected and developed by Shaolin Nun Ng Mui) and the alma mater of Jinn Hua's own specialized variation thereof, https://iogkf.com International Okinawan Goju-Ryu Karatedo Federation (even Hanshi had his teachers), https://itftkd.sport International Taekwondo Federation (Here there be Taegers), https://tangsoodoworld.com Tang Soo Do World (the path of Grandmaster Chuck Norris), https://www.aikido-international.org International Aikido Federation (how else would Navy Chef Steven Seagal liberate a Nimitz Class Aircraft Carrier from a team of hijackers?), https://www.stqitoronto.com Shaolin Temple Quanfa Institute (The City Of Toronto's own Shaolin Temple), https://www.enterthedojoshow.com Master Ken's Ameri-Te-Do presence (If we can't laugh at ourselves, then we can at least laugh the loudest at others, and other Zen)
Magic (performance, illusion and perhaps the real thing): Magic Week Archive (I'm currently growing this section so stay tuned)
Special thanks to Aitrepreneur, Mickmumpitz, Hugging Face and the YouTube educational content producers, including those catering to the AI content production pipeline and of course AlphaSignal.
Shi Heng Yi Shaolin Training For Self Mastery
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day life
Shi Heng Yi Shaolin Training For Self Mastery
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day life
Jesse Enkamp: Karate Nerd
Jesse, a reknowned Sensei who runs his own dojo, explores the world of Martial Arts, traveling to many exotic locations to meet practitioners of a variety of different arts
Sensei Rokas: Martial Arts Journey
A reknowned Sensei of Aikido who in seeking to understand the roots of Aikido and its applications, seeks to stress test its effectiveness in a number of real world situations while studying its history
Iaido: Train For Katana Mastery Like Samurai
The original weapons focused curriculum under which Samurai became masters of their art
Extensive courses for calisthenics and body strength, stamina and flexibility
Special thanks to Captain Crunch and his wonderful sister!
Special thanks to Bandcamp for giving indie music artists a home under one roof
Something to give you perspective: The very first teacher had no formal education, didn't graduate and was self taught, but only because they had no other choice. We do.
Tools: Daz3D, Corel Painter, Adobe Photoshop, Lightwave 3D, Blender, Stable Diffusion (Easy Diffusion distribution), InstantID, Sadtalker, Google Colaboratory, Microsoft Copilot (Windows 11), Hitfilm, PhotoPea (a great web based Photoshop stand-in if you're on a low budget or in a pinch), Borderline Obsession...
DeepSeek AI for suggestions on exercises to improve aspects of describing scene and settings with a more sensory focused grammar.
InstantID by: Wang, Qixun and Bai, Xu and Wang, Haofan and Qin, Zekui and Chen, Anthony. Research Paper Title: InstantID - Zero-shot Identity-Preserving Generation in Seconds.
Sadtalker by: Zhang, Wenxuan and Cun, Xiaodong and Wang, Xuan and Zhang, Yong and Shen, Xi and Guo, Yu and Shan, Ying and Wang, Fei.
Research Paper Title: SadTalker: Learning Realistic 3D Motion Coefficients for Stylized Audio-Driven Single Image Talking Face Animation.
Gratitude: Our Mentors, Senseis, Sifus, Sebomnims, lifetime inspirations, family, friends, the Nomads (ask Stanton about that one), the Music, the Movies, the Theatre, the Arts, ASMR, (both YouTube and Bilibili and the many other creators on those platforms), the Gaming and Developer communities and of course, the audience.
Martial Arts (in the words of real experts and at least one comedian): https://brucelee.com (home of the real Dragon and an entire family of inspirations), http://iwco.online International Wing Chun Organization (International presence of a very scalable intensity martial art, protected and developed by Shaolin Nun Ng Mui) and the alma mater of Jinn Hua's own specialized variation thereof, https://iogkf.com International Okinawan Goju-Ryu Karatedo Federation (even Hanshi had his teachers), https://itftkd.sport International Taekwondo Federation (Here there be Taegers), https://tangsoodoworld.com Tang Soo Do World (the path of Grandmaster Chuck Norris), https://www.aikido-international.org International Aikido Federation (how else would Navy Chef Steven Seagal liberate a Nimitz Class Aircraft Carrier from a team of hijackers?), https://www.stqitoronto.com Shaolin Temple Quanfa Institute (The City Of Toronto's own Shaolin Temple), https://www.enterthedojoshow.com Master Ken's Ameri-Te-Do presence (If we can't laugh at ourselves, then we can at least laugh the loudest at others, and other Zen)
Magic (performance, illusion and perhaps the real thing): Magic Week Archive (I'm currently growing this section so stay tuned)
Special thanks to Aitrepreneur, Mickmumpitz, Hugging Face and the YouTube educational content producers, including those catering to the AI content production pipeline and of course AlphaSignal.
Shi Heng Yi Shaolin Training For Self Mastery
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day life
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day life
Shi Heng Yi Shaolin Training For Self Mastery
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day life
A reknowned Sifu under whose tutelage you can study the theory and practical applications of the Shaolin Arts for health, physical and mental wellbeing in every day life
Jesse Enkamp: Karate Nerd
Jesse, a reknowned Sensei who runs his own dojo, explores the world of Martial Arts, traveling to many exotic locations to meet practitioners of a variety of different arts
Jesse, a reknowned Sensei who runs his own dojo, explores the world of Martial Arts, traveling to many exotic locations to meet practitioners of a variety of different arts
Sensei Rokas: Martial Arts Journey
A reknowned Sensei of Aikido who in seeking to understand the roots of Aikido and its applications, seeks to stress test its effectiveness in a number of real world situations while studying its history
A reknowned Sensei of Aikido who in seeking to understand the roots of Aikido and its applications, seeks to stress test its effectiveness in a number of real world situations while studying its history
Iaido: Train For Katana Mastery Like Samurai
The original weapons focused curriculum under which Samurai became masters of their art
The original weapons focused curriculum under which Samurai became masters of their art
Extensive courses for calisthenics and body strength, stamina and flexibility
Special thanks to Captain Crunch and his wonderful sister!
Special thanks to Bandcamp for giving indie music artists a home under one roof
Something to give you perspective: The very first teacher had no formal education, didn't graduate and was self taught, but only because they had no other choice. We do.
This content is entirely produced in Toronto, Ontario, Canada at 200 Sherbourne Street Suite 701 under the Shhhh! Digital Media banner.
This content is entirely produced in Toronto, Ontario, Canada at 200 Sherbourne Street Suite 701 under the Shhhh! Digital Media banner.
Brian Joseph Johns
https://www.shhhhdigital.comhttps://www.facebook.com/shhhhdigitalhttps://www.youtube.com/@ShhhhDigitalAudio
Produced at Shhhh! Digital Media
200 Sherbourne Street Suite 701
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Inquiries: brian.joseph.johns@shhhhdigital.com, info@shhhhdigital.com
Copyright © 2025 Brian Joseph Johns
Brian Joseph Johns
https://www.shhhhdigital.com
https://www.facebook.com/shhhhdigitalhttps://www.shhhhdigital.com
https://www.youtube.com/@ShhhhDigitalAudio
Produced at Shhhh! Digital Media
200 Sherbourne Street Suite 701
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Inquiries: brian.joseph.johns@shhhhdigital.com, info@shhhhdigital.com
Produced at Shhhh! Digital Media
200 Sherbourne Street Suite 701
Toronto, Ontario, Canada
Inquiries: brian.joseph.johns@shhhhdigital.com, info@shhhhdigital.com
Copyright © 2025 Brian Joseph Johns
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