Conning The Con Artists

by WeirdBeard

Chapter 3- What Is This Sorcery?

Conning The Con Artists
Chapter 3- What Is This Sorcery?

Just thought you should know, the cake was as delicious as it looked. That Maxi sure knows how to make her desserts, clever girl.

After cleaning up our plates from breakfast, I follow Maxi downstairs to help her arrange a set-up to remove our tattoos. It's pretty incredible what she's done with the basement in general. While her own room is separate, there's an intense tech lab filled with all sorts of awesome tools. Most were simple requests she made, but through those she constructed a little forensics lab, a central hub for all our computers and software, and even a clean medical room.

I lift her console of laser tools and set them on a wheeled tray while Maxi wipes down the patient chair. She glances at me and asks, "So, what's the rush for getting these tattoos off? I mean, no one would really see them and I think they're kinda cool."

"Well," I utter, unable to find an immediate answer. She does have a point about them. I mean, they'd never be my first choice if I ever wanted to get inked, but they weren't horrible. It was most certainly a glorious day when I earned my cutie mark, more so when Flam got his at the same time.

Wait, what?!

Maxi notices my befuddlement and waves her hand in front on me. "Cal? You okay?"

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. "Yeah, just... something on my mind," I reply. She bites her lip and looks ready to ask just what that might be, but I continue. "To answer your previous question, it'd be better to get these off now while we don't have anything going on rather than risk being caught with them. Besides, too many possible meanings with this ink."

"Ehn, let 'em think what they want. Now you have something more to share with your brother," Maxi counters. I shudder at her input though, remembering how Jim first interpreted the tattoos. I did NOT want that rumor spreading.

"I think Jim is getting his off regardless, he didn't seem too enthused about them. Let's warm up these lasers and get this ready for him." My suggestion doesn't seem to dissuade her at first, but she shrugs and moves to the console. She begins flicking a few switches and types in the desired setting to prime them lower. Soon, however, we hear Jim call from upstairs.

"Cal? Maxi? You mind coming up here for a sec?" my brother asks, hints of frustration in his voice. Maxi and I share a wondering look, but we make our way upstairs. Jim's leaning over the second floor balcony as we reach the ground floor. His lips are pursed and he's holding a set of hair clippers. Strange, I thought he would have cut his hair by now.

Maxi soon asks the same question I'm thinking though. "Weren't you using those already? It sounded like you had 'em going for five minutes, but you haven't cut your hair yet. They not working?"

"Oh, they're working just fine," Jim replies crossly. He waves a hand upwards and nods to the side. "You're gonna want to see this." Before we can reply, he walks away to the bathroom upstairs.

This day just couldn't be normal, could it?

I trod up the staircase while Maxi follows behind, both of us trying to figure out what's going on here. My curiosity piques when I enter the brightly lit bathroom and see large clumps of yellow-orange hair in the sink. I half-wonder if it's hair from another section of his body, but remember that my brother's practically hairless in general. Although, looking at his scalp, which now seems to have at least an inch of that same colored hair, I'm beginning to doubt that theory.

Maxi notices the hair in the sink as well, but she backs away and scowls at my brother. "Jim! That's disgusting! Why would you show us you shaved your-,"

"No," Jim says flatly, not even in the mood to entertain that thought. "Just watch." At that, he tilts his head down over the sink and turns on the hair clippers. They must be fully charged because they give off a loud whirring noise as he brings them to his forehead. Without further ado, he shaves off the center of his scalp successfully about halfway back. He shuts the clippers off and drops the clump of hair into the other pile, turning to face us.

It's a clean cut down the middle, buzzed like he usually has it. I'm not really sure what the fuzz is about, Jim's probably just pulling our le-.

"Great gulumuku, is it growing back?!" Maxi asks, grasping his head and bringing him closer to her. Jim's legs almost stumble at the sudden change, but he manages to keep his balance. Oddly enough, he doesn't berate her and simply allows the close examination. I lean forward a bit myself, not really believing Maxi's exclamation. His cut looks the same and nothing's- oh holy hell, it really is growing back. Albeit very slowly, but growing nonetheless before our eyes.

Jim eventually loosens himself from Maxi's grip and stands upright. Glancing at the mirror, he growls. "Not enough they put these stupid tattoos on us, now I find out they put God-knows-what in me to make this happen!" shouting, he points a finger at his growing hair. "I'm going back there right now, I need answers. Then, I'm gonna kill them."

"Oy! Jim, listen to yourself for just a moment," I protest, gently putting a hand against him before he dashes out of the room. "We're lucky to still be alive, they were gonna kill us. If we really are going there, we need to be composed and to have some sort of plan. Maybe figure out what and why they put something in us. Also, we're not gonna kill them, that's not our style."

"Wait, did you say they were gonna kill you two?" Maxi interjects, worry and confusion over her face.

Jim snorts, shaking his head. "Wouldn't be the first time anyone's tried, Maxi."

She bites her lip and walks out of the bathroom. I first think she's offended, but her current pacing proves that she's just thinking about something. "But, that doesn't make sense though. Why go through the trouble of injecting something in you before killing you? Unless they wanted to change how you looked, but DNA would still prove who you were. I can still run some tests in case, yet it still doesn't add up."

We both pause at her insight. It definitely was curious, all things considering. After a moment, I break the silence. "Who knows, maybe they had some bizarre gang rituals and wanted to sacrifice us or something. The important thing is that we still have the element of surprise and time to plan. They had no idea who we were when we tricked them." Probably better that way, most likely torture us or something if they found out how much we really had.

"I still think it was ridiculous, but good idea on that, 'Mr. Sherwood'," Jim replies, finally releasing a smile at the memory of my fake name used.

"Hey, I told ya code names would be better on that job, 'Mr. Nottingham.'" I lightly punch his shoulder, exiting the bathroom and descending the stairs. "We can plan while we get these tattoos removed, that'll take our minds off the pain."

Jim follows behind me while Maxi remains atop the balcony with a cheesy grin. "It's now official, you guys have too big of a man crush on Robin Hood." She chuckles, eventually trailing us.

"Don't disrespect the Hood, he's still our inspiration on some of these heists. How else would our old home at 'His Helping Hands Ministry' receive such a generous donation from those corrupt businessmen?" I counter.

She simply shakes her head and grins. "Still makes you two big dorks."

Regardless of our possible dork status, Robin Hood was definitely one of our idols in this line of work. Practically all of his detailed life in folklore was of clever plans and elaborate ruses. Not to downplay his mantra neither, 'Take from the rich and give to the poor.' We added our own implements into the thief's ideals, such as retribution to the innocent from the corrupt, but it was generally the same principle. Although, I would be lying if I said I didn't enjoy the perks that came with it.

That note aside, we return to the basement and Jim lays down on the patient chair. Maxi's still prepping the lasers when I sit down with a laptop beside my brother. This would prove even more beneficial with planning as well as helping distract some pain during the removal.

"So." Jim begins, turning onto his side and lowering his pants slightly. His eyes glance at the incomplete apple tattoo, but he looks back at me. "We know that they're centralized in Monterrey, but they could be in any of the surrounding towns."

I mumble an affirmative, bringing up the area's map on screen. "Especially how they took us to some country house just outside of Valle Hermoso. That blast did knock them all out though, so there's a fair chance that they're still weak and around that location."

"Alright, Jim, I'm going to start this up. This isn't like the old fashioned way where it takes multiple sessions, just this one time. Not gonna lie, it'll hurt like a banshee," Maxi interrupts. She places a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to look at her. Her eyes soften and she says, "We don't have to do this right now. Heck, I think you should honestly keep it, makes you more unique."

Jim shakes his head roughly. "Not a chance. Even if I did like... whatever it's really supposed to mean, it was put on me without my consent. Besides," he replies, turning his head back to me. "I've had worse pain. Go on ahead."

Maxi looks my way, seeming to ask silently if she should. I simply nod and bring my attention back to the map. "If they really are still there, it's likely they don't expect anything to happen. That would give us an incredible advantage."

"That's if they're still there. What if they've left that area altogether?" Jim asks, circling around Monterrey with his finger.

"Someone will know where they've gone. Even if they've flown the coop and made it to South America, we have to find them. Revenge or no, discovering what they put in you is a priority," I reply, running a hand through my hair.

Jim glances at my scalp. "You know, it's very possible they put something in you, too."

"What do you-," I begin, but the smell of burnt flesh floods my nostrils. Ugh, that's never a pleasant aroma. I shake my head to clear my senses. After I do though, I notice Jim's staring expectantly at me while Maxi is running the laser over his tattoo.

Gadfrey. Either it's really not that painful or Jim has some incredible tolerance. I hope it's the former because I'm no where near as tough. "Anyway, you really think I have whatever you have, too?" I inquire.

"Well, your hair does seem a bit... off," my brother replies, shrugging.

I glance at a small mirror on the wall. Sure enough, my hair looks like it's grown a good deal since yesterday. Not only that, but the color is now matching Jim's current subtle red-orange.

"Oh. My. God," Maxi utters, complete shock in her eyes. Our attention immediately turns to her and neither of us are sure how to react. Her mouth tries to form words, but the sheer bafflement hinders her. She turns off the laser and says, "Y-you're not gonna believe this."

All of us look down at the partially removed tattoo. You wouldn't believe how bad I wanted it to stay that way. Nothing strange to happen. Alas, my small wish went unanswered as the top half of the apple faded back into existence. As if to add insult to injury, it looked even more vibrant and vivid than before.

"Both of you hold still, I have to take skin samples," Maxi hurriedly explains, brandishing a scalpel out of nowhere. Whatever our answer was going to be, she shaves a thin, minuscule piece of skin off of Jim's thigh. She leans over him and does the same to my arm. "I'm gonna analyze these in the lab. Gimme an hour."

Before we respond, she runs out of the room. The two of us glance at each other and then back at the tattoo. "That's it, I need a drink," Jim states, pulling up his pants and getting off the chair. I'm still too baffled to even follow him.

What is going on?!

~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time I make it upstairs, Jim has already poured himself a glass of scotch. In other circumstances, I may have joshed him about drinking before it was even noon. However, I find myself quick to join him and pour a glass. He's turned on the television, probably trying to get his mind off our current predicament. It doesn't seem to be working though as he keeps guzzling down alcohol.

"This is bullshit, Cal. Shouldn't even be possible for any of this to happen, yet here we are!" Jim exclaims. He shakes his head and raises the remote to change the channel. The TV blinks to a weather report, some weird atmospheric changes going on over the Midwest.

I don't even know what to say. There's certainly no Hallmark card for this sort of thing. Then again, I'd be more concerned if they made a 'Sorry you got screwed over by the cartel' card. "Jim... we gotta look at this in a different way. It's probably just something temporary and it really isn't that bad. There are worse things after all."

"You say that now, but what if we start losing things instead of insane changes? These can't be the only two things that are going to affect us, I think something really bad's gonna happen. What then, Cal?" Jim asks angrily. I know his rage is directed towards this unknown setback, but I can't help but feel some of that wrath as his eyes lock onto mine.

I sigh. "Then we go through it. Together."

He opens his mouth to reply, but a loud beep emits from the TV. Both of us turn our attention to the noise, noticing it's some news bulletin. It's the usual pair of reporters that you see on any station in Texas, but I can't seem to turn away as they begin speaking.

"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for breaking news. We've just received word from local law enforcement that-"

"Blah blah, some crazy guy's probably pulling a high speed chase just as some publicity stunt. Had enough of this," Jim interrupts.

He's about to turn off the TV, but I hurriedly stop him. "Hold on a sec, something's up."

My brother raises a brow and asks, "What are you talking about?" When I don't answer him, he glances back at the news report.

"-known as 'Los Reyes', led by a man known only as Satanas, have violently entered the United States through a security post just outside of Matamoros. We warn you that the following footage is disturbing."

"Isn't that the name of-?" I try to ask, but I stop when I see that Jim is completely focused on the report. A grainy camera video is shown next on screen, a pair of armored security guards stepping towards a large SUV. They raise their weapons, but a multitude of rifles are aimed out of the vehicle's windows. The next part is cut out, probably due to the station's censoring, but it's clear what just transpired.

"No word yet on the number of casualties at the outpost, but first reports are that, unfortunately, none of the patrol survived. Authorities are trying to track down these horrible criminals, but witnesses say the gang switched vehicles in a small farming town. We advise everyone watching to avoid confrontation with 'Los Reyes', but to instead contact 9-1-1 to help with any leads."

I jump in surprise when Jim hurls the remote across the room. "Grrrahhh!! Those bastards!" he yells, completely enraged.

My mind finally connects on what's probably upset him most: Keith, one of the guards at that security post and, more importantly, our friend. Today was supposed to be his last day before a break with his family. I open my mouth to reply, but he quickly points a finger at me.

"NO! They've crossed the line. I am NOT going to sit back and wait, we're going now!" Jim shouts, storming out of the room.

So many questions run through my mind. What had we gotten ourselves into? What did 'Los Reyes' really want? How will I hold Jim back when I know he wants to make them pay?

It's through all of these thoughts that something occurs to me. Why did they choose that particular route? "Flam!" I call out to my brother, chasing after him into the hallway. "You cleared everything out of their house that could have connected us, right?"

"Of course, I did! That wasn't our first rodeo, Flim, I cleaned our tra-." Jim leads off, a look of stunned realization crossing his visage.

I notice his demeanor and grab his shoulders. "What? What is it?"

"We didn't check the car for a tracker."

BANG. CRASH.

The sudden chaos disrupts our conversation as we look at the front door and then behind us at the living room's glass doors. Both entryways are packed with members of 'Los Reyes.' All of them have rifles pointed at us and begin surrounding us. Our options are slim to none, strictly limited to surrendering as we lift our hands. A low chuckle echoes behind the first group.

"Well well well. Looks like Christmas comes early, amigos," Satanas says with a sickening grin. His neck beard is still as disgusting as ever, but his nose looks smashed in. Must have been courtesy of that one-on-one meeting he had with that wall yesterday. He approaches slowly and nods. "You two are going to make me very rich, gueros. Or should I say, Braxtons."

Jim looks ready to rip off someone's head, fuming at Satanas. Instead, he spits in his face. "Like hell we will. You're gonna pay for what you've done."

The drug-lord slowly shakes his head and sighs, wiping the spit off his cheek. "Wrong answer," Satanas replies, nodding behind us. Before I can react, one of the cronies smacks the butt of his rifle against Jim's head and knocks him out.

"Jim!" I shout, quickly trying to catch him. However, I feel something hard smack against my head and I'm forced to my knees.

Before I lose consciousness, I hear Satanas command his gang. "Burn down the house, we're leaving."

Author's Note:

Possibly a bit trope-following, but what story doesn't, right? I tend to write that way a bit sometimes, but I do promise next chapter won't be cliff-hanging.

Comments

[Flash_Magnus]

Shit things got real,now!

[ShurikVch]

Please, more!
I really really like this story.

[WeirdBeard]

3209573

Well thank ya kindly, I'm glad you're enjoying it!

As for more... KABOOM! CHAPTER 4'S UP!