Dishonored Loyalty

Dishonored Loyalty:

A Short Story by Daniel Harder, 03/17/24

“As I have repeatedly vowed in my speeches out on the campaign trail, I will bring an end, once-and-for-all, to the crime-ridden streets of Detroit. No longer will families be afraid to take their kids to the park for a stroll at sunset. No longer will the man walking in to work at his office job downtown have to worry about his car not being in the parking garage when he clocks out. And never again will your child have to walk past drug-dealers and prostitutes on their way to the bus stop in the morning. And we are going to bring the focus back on the great art and history of this city, just like we see on display here at this museum!

“You may ask how I, just one man, Rob Jackson, am going to fulfill these promises—I can tell you, first off, this is not a one-man operation. I have a great team of fellow law enforcement workers supporting my action plan. Now, as far as how we are going to accomplish this herculean task, we will do it in record time by going directly after the head of the snake, crime boss Vincent Talenti, finally doing what no other leader in Detroit could do the past 20 years – bringing this scum-sucking filth to justice!”

District Attorney Robert William Jackson III just finished his third speech in 7 hours, attempting to reassure the citizens of Detroit after a wave of crime swept through the city the past 3 weeks, while he is working hard to get re-elected. The famous car-town has been plagued by a string of muggings, burglary, and grand theft auto. Now he’s trying to take a moment to relax, sitting down on a chair and closing his eyes after his security escort walks him to the private room behind the event room stage at the Detroit Institute of Art.

“You know, Robbie, you didn’t have to go so hard on me in there. I mean, ‘scum-sucking filth,’ that just hurt my feelings. Especially coming from my old pal from the army.”

“Vinnie, how many times have I told you, you cannot come backstage at my speeches? What if someone sees us together? Everything I’ve worked so hard on will all be lost.”

“Everything *YOU* worked so hard on? Did you hear that, Oscar?” Vincent asks his personal bodyguard. “Sounds like Robbie here needs some fact-checking done on his memory-bank. Who was the one that funded your campaign with ‘anonymous donations’ 8 years ago when no one had ever heard of you? And who was it that ensured you ‘defeated crime’ 4 years ago and helped you win the election? Is it the stress getting to you, Robbie? You seem to be having some problems remembering things.”

“Look, Vinnie, you know I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for all your help, but people will start talking if they see you here with me in the same room.”

“Robbie, Robbie, Robbie, haven’t you learned by now that there’s no one in this town who can’t be bought off for the right price? But, even if there is some rare out-of-towner boy scout who has been living in a cave and doesn’t know who I am, we have ways of dealing with those do-gooders as well.”

“I’m just getting uncomfortable with our arrangement, Vinnie, and I think it might be time to reevaluate our terms. My poll numbers are so good now, I don’t know if I need you coming around anymore. Too many reporters and podcasters sniffing around. Making me very anxious, and anxiety makes me give bad speeches. Plus, my conscience just doesn’t feel good helping you with your ‘business activities.’”

“Robbie, I know you’re obviously having trouble with your memory, but surely you haven’t forgotten that you owe me that help, and so much more, after I saved your life in Afghanistan. Now why don’t you sit back down, relax, let’s have another drink, for old time’s sake, buddy, and just forget about all that anxiety and conscience bullshit.”

“Of course, you’re right, Vinnie, I’ve just been traveling too much and not getting enough sleep. It’s stupid of me to question our rock-solid agreement after all these years. Hey, you remember that story you told me last year, I love hearing it when you talk about some of your biggest capers.”

“Sure, Robbie, but you’ll have to be more specific, my company does a lot of ‘capers,’ as you put it, every year.”

“You know, Vinnie, the one involving the Governor and his son?”

“Seems a little strange for you to bring that up out of the blue, Robbie, what’s going on? What’s this really about?”

“Nothing, it just calms my nerves to hear stories about how in-control you are, and just how much power you have in this city.”

“It all started 10 years ago, when I had a dream, a beautiful vision of opening my own submarine sandwich shop – to make sandwiches the right way – the real way. None of this fake Subway crap or that hotshot McAlister’s. I had the perfect spot picked out, even finally had the best name for the store: ‘Marineland.’ Get it? ‘Marine’ as in ‘submarine sandwich?’ Ah well, the people with higher class were able to grasp it.

“Anyway, good ol’ do-gooder Governor Reeves refused to issue me the zoning permit to open up my dream restaurant, claiming it was going to chop down some ‘historical landmark tree,’ along with some ‘endangered owls,’ or some shit like that. Can you believe that nonsense? Denying the most influential and powerful man in the state of Michigan his dream restaurant, to save some orphan owls and a haunted tree?

“Sorry Robbie, I’m getting offtrack. Where were we?”

“You were just about to tell me more about the Governor’s son incident.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Well, you see, I scheduled a face-to-face meeting with the Governor in this same museum, and I just wanted to remind him that the Lord seems to work in my favor and freak accidents seem to happen to people who cross me or get in my way. Like that banker back in ’89 who tripped and fell out of the window of the Guardian Building after denying me a loan, or the barber who ran into that semi on the highway a day after he cancelled my hair appointment.”

“Not suspicious at all,” Robert whispered to himself.

“So, we’re in the Italian Renaissance area, perusing some sculptures by Donatello, Ghiberti, or some other Ninja Turtle, and the Gov’ just doesn’t seem to be catching my drift. I wanted to impress upon him the seriousness of the situation, so I asked him how his 3-year-old boy, William, was doing. And wouldn’t you know it, at just that moment, Governor Charles Reeve received a phone call that came up ‘anonymous.’”

“What happened next,” Robert asked, sitting on the edge of his seat now.

“A muffled voice informed the Governor that his son had been kidnapped and would only be released after the demands were met. And in a remarkable coincidence, the kidnappers just so happened to be fans of mine, and admirers of high quality submarine sandwiches, so their demands, believe it or not, were to make sure that I received my Zoning Permits.

“Thankfully, the Governor, though not the brightest bulb in the box, was smart enough to acquiesce, and the anonymous fans returned the boy unharmed to his mother the next day.”

“You sure are great at coming up with these schemes. How do you think up such plans?” Robert asked.

“It just takes a creative mind, and the courage to try new things. The same things required to operate a successful business, such as my Marineland Subs, or my other little company.”

“Thanks for telling me that story, again, Vinnie, I really appreciate it,” Robert says. “It makes this so much easier.”

“Makes what so much easier? What are you babbling on about now?”

“HANDS UP. FREEZE. HANDS ABOVE YOUR HEAD. ON YOUR KNEES MR. TALENTI!”

A group of agents wearing “FBI” jackets and hats have their weapons trained on Vincent.

“You turned traitor on me, Robbie? After all these years? After I’ve done for you and your family? The way I’ve taken care of everything for you?”

“Sorry, Vinnie. I’ve been trying to tell you for 6 months that I wanted out, but you refused to listen. And then, when I saw no other out of this mess, I made a call to a friend at the FBI office, and I’ve been wearing a wire at every one of our ‘private discussions’ for the past 5 months. They’ve just been waiting until they got the most incriminating admissions on tape.”

“You’ll regret this. You remember that curse I spoke about earlier, right? You know exactly what happens to people who get in my way.”

“I’m willing to take my chances, Vinnie. You don’t have the market cornered on luck from the Lord. Karma is on my side now. This will definitely be a memorable day for the people at this museum – getting to see history as it is being made.”