3. Conspiracy in Paris (5 pgs.) – Champions Renaissance

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ACT III- CHAPTER 3

CONSPIRACY IN PARIS

Thursday September 24, 2019

Tour D’Cygne Fencing Club

Paris France

Three months after Ronald had organized the work to publish the book in the cabin in Norway, The Family ended their regular meeting at the Paris fencing club. They had discussed the disastrous Friday the 13^th before the World Cup final that had fatally tarnished their name, something they had planned in advance. Their new public name was The Colony, but among themselves they still called themselves The Family.

What had not gone according to plan was that the nuclear bombs had not exploded during the World Cup final in Moscow to trigger Armageddon and the stock market crash it would cause. They had bought put options, hoping the fall would multiply their fortunes a hundredfold, but since Armageddon never came, they lost ninety percent of their wealth. It had been a disaster for everyone in The Family, including the Gambino dynasty. Their father had done everything right, but that last move destroyed the fortune they had built over centuries, though what remained was still vast.

The twins, Flavio and Enzo Gambino, led the new generation. They had found their father’s body in the New Zealand house, along with nine others, a few days after the World Cup final. They vowed to kill all the relatives of those corpses. To ensure they were not deceived, they took blood samples from inside and outside the house and sent them to a laboratory for DNA analysis. The lab returned a list of names linking each DNA sample to a corpse, but one sample didn’t match.

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It belonged to a man whose body had vanished. He called himself Boris Petrov, a former KGB agent who had disappeared years earlier. The twins swore to find and kill him.

Shortly after saying goodbye to the others who had attended the meeting, a seven-foot giant intercepted them in the street, wearing a black coat that reached the ground, in the middle of summer. He was Genaro’s bodyguard. Showing a gun under his coat, he told them to get into the limousine.

Inside, the cold hit them immediately. The air conditioning always kept the temperature near eight degrees Celsius. Dressed in summer clothes, the twins felt the chill as they sat facing Genaro, who had a gun pointed at them beneath his coat, finger on the trigger. He was still the only channel of communication with the Grand Coordinator. He neither greeted nor moved. He stared in silence for nearly a minute before speaking.

“Bambinos. The Great Coordinator does not want violence. Capisci? Not now. The priority is to remove the intruder from the White House. President John MacDoe is an interloper, a foul mouth, a thorn in the side, a pebble in the shoe. The problem is that the economy is strong and he’ll likely be re-elected. We can’t allow it. For now, forget about avenging your father,” Genaro said.

“What’s the problem? I avenge my father, you remove the intruder. Where do we collide?” Flavio asked defiantly.

“This is not the time to talk to me like that, bambino! You’re more stubborn than your father! Why the rush for revenge? Haven’t you learned it’s served cold? The priority now is to remove the intruder from the White House. We’ll start a pandemic. We’ll release a highly contagious virus that will collapse the world economy, including that of the United States,” Genaro said.

“What are you talking about, Genaro! The economy in America is solid!” Enzo said.

Genaro closed his eyes, as if stabbed by pain. He made a slight grimace and spoke through clenched teeth.

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“No, Enzo, it’s not that solid. But first, let me tell you something.” He opened his eyes, glared, and said slowly, “Bambino, when you’re in my presence, you will never, ever call that country ‘America’ or its citizens ‘Americans,’ or I’ll kill you. Capisci? That country is an arrogant orphan that stole the name of a continent. Say ‘United States,’ and for their people, say ‘US citizens.’ Capisci?”

He sighed, poured himself a whisky from the bar, sipped, set the glass down, and continued, “As for the economy — stupid! — we all know that when things go well, presidents get re-elected. Now it’s good, but never solid. The economy is never solid! What nonsense you speak!”

He leaned forward. “If, on voting day, we see MacDoe winning, we’ll be ready. The panic we’ll cause with pandemic news will be worse than the virus itself. It’ll drive millions to vote by mail instead of in person. We’ll steal the election. It’ll be as easy as taking candy from a child.”

“If it’s that easy, then I avenge my father and you take the candy,” Enzo said.

“You too? Don’t be insolent! You’ll do exactly as I say! Focus and listen! For now, no revenge. I’ll find you after we release the virus in January 2020. Wait for my orders,” Genaro said.

“Why can’t we avenge our father and help you remove the intruder at the same time?” Enzo asked.

“Enzo, will you continue? When I say no, it means no. You’ll both obey. Capisci?” Genaro said, moving the gun so they noticed.

“Capisci,” Enzo replied, seeing the weapon.

“And you, Flavio? Will you do as I say?”

“Do we have another option?” Flavio asked.

“The cemetery,” Genaro said with a cynical smile, tapping the gun. “So, will you dummies do as I say?”

“Yes,” Flavio said quietly.

“I don’t hear you,” Genaro said.

“Yes! I’ll obey!” Flavio shouted.

The twins nodded. They knew Genaro still spoke for the Great Coordinator, and they had no choice.

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“Bene, bene! The important thing is that the intruder in the White House — that big mouth who never filters his thoughts — never sets foot in Washington again. He can’t be re-elected next year!” Genaro said.

He took his finger off the trigger, leaned back, and added, “Don’t worry about those footballers writing that book. We have time to crush those cockroaches. Ragnar helped them, but your father did well cutting off his head. Without him, that dissident group, the black sheep of The Family, won’t get far. And if those footballers, who call themselves philosophers, decide to publish their book during the pandemic, they’ll fail.”

“Why are you so sure?” Enzo asked.

“Why? Are you stupid? Because we’ll make the Global Health Organization force governments to quarantine and ban gatherings, in hotels, theatres, and stadiums. How will they promote the book or sign autographs if meetings are illegal? Where will they sell it if bookstores are closed worldwide? Even if open, people will stay home, afraid to get infected,” Genaro said.

“That’s the plan?” Enzo asked.

“Yes, and it’ll work. It’s a contagious virus, and we’ll flood the news with it. Everything’s ready. It will be a perfect media spectacle,” Genaro said. “We’ll see how fear paralyzes reason to absurdity. People will jog on empty streets or deserted beaches wearing masks, though no one’s near them. Such stupidity!” He laughed. “We’ll falsify hospital death data so certificates say the virus caused death, even when it’s cancer, flu, or a car crash. I’ve bought millions in shares of vaccine makers. Governments will rush to buy them, a fortune awaits.”

He added, “We’ll censor anyone who questions the experts and journalists we’ve bribed to spread panic.”

“Is the release date confirmed?” Flavio asked.

“Yes. January 2020, in China. The Global Health Organization will declare it official in March,” Genaro said.

“Then we’ll buy put options. I hope you’re not wrong this time,” Enzo said.

“I’ve already bought a large amount,” Genaro said. “If you want to buy, do it fast.”

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He told them it wasn’t The Family’s first planned pandemic. They had done it many times. The most memorable was the Black Death. They had discovered that small, white-haired rats spread the plague. They placed them on trade routes and spread two rumours: first, that Jews had poisoned wells; second, that a dark-haired rat carried the disease. Misled rulers panicked, persecuted Jews — The Family’s old business rivals — and the poor decisions of authorities deepened the catastrophe. Curfews, travel bans, and quarantines followed. The Family planned to repeat it in 2020.

During the Black Death, The Family’s dynasties grew richer by buying land at low prices, weakening aristocrats and feudal lords who owned only soil. With capital gained, they financed Venice’s silk workshops and new technologies. The plague was a local blessing. What The Family planned now would be global — a two-stage operation. The first virus, highly contagious but not very deadly; the second virus, to be launch years later, extremely lethal. The Family was obsessed to reduce population one way or the other.

Shivering, the twins prepared to leave the limousine. Before they stepped out, Genaro read them a note he always carried in his pocket.

“There are people who know how and why, who pay people who know how and not why, and don’t care; to fool the majority who don’t know how nor why, and they never will, and don’t care either.”

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