“The Red Diamond Dragon Club”
By Sean Quigley
It started out as a normal day for Vladimir. He woke up, looked out the window on the busy urban street, looked at all of the people who were clueless as to their unimportance. But one day, he thought, they would pay for their failure to follow Murdok. He shook his head vigorously, clearing out these thoughts. As he poured his coffee, he strained to remember the events that had taken place at the Red Diamond Dragon Club. A cup of tea, a heated argument with the delegate from the Black Hand of Krok, then- nothing. He had to find the Diamond soon, before the Dragon became angry. Realizing the urgency of the situation, he pulled on his boots, rushing down the stairs and past the landlord, who spoke constantly of some group known as “the Yankees”. As he opened the door, he looked at his watch. 9:30. Right on schedule.
On the street, he strained to make sense out of the chaos surrounding him. There! By the coffee shop, a tall balding man. When he reached to pick up his paper, his sock lifted up, revealing the Black Hand tattooed on his left ankle. An enemy of the Dragon. There was no time to lose. It was imperative that the Secret Cult of Murdok triumphed. Vladimir hurried down the street, tossing his half-empty coffee mug on the ground. The man, the infidel, saw him and turned quickly, vanishing into the crowd. But Vladimir, or Pierre, as his friends called him, had been taught well by Murdok. The Krok would not get away that easily. The pursuer caught up to his bounty about three blocks south of the Hideout. He wiped the hate off of his face and put on an air of complacency. The Disciple of the Evil One looked around shiftily. The last five meters which separated these mortal enemies seemed like miles to the young devotees. Pierre dug deep into his pocket, and the man with the Black Hand on his ankle tensed up, fearing a fight. The ever-cautious Vladimir handed the servant of evil a piece of paper and briskly walked away. The note read, “Murdok surveb Krok Dragon RDDC 10 eb Al”. Surely even an insolent follower of the Black Hand could decode it. Satisfied that he had fulfilled Murdok’s command, he gave the signal to Miguel and Brian. Everything was ready. At last, they would have revenge. Vladimir raised the Kool-aid to his lips, welcoming eternity…
