Revolutions Begin at Home

"That's a stupid plan. We should just kill him."

Vince kept his voice calm. "We can't go killing everyone who annoys us, Speedball. You know that."

"We'd have a lot less enemies." Speedball reflexively reached a hand toward the blade at his hip. "Everyone would be afraid of us."

Did Vince want to rehash that tired old argument? They were just a small gang in a city overrun with them since the Resource Wars. Stealth, not force, was the way to stay alive. He was marshaling his arguments when a crisp knock caught his attention. The door opened, and without meaning to, Vince smiled. Three was a new addition to their group and as easy on the eyes as she was good with a gun.

"Gotta talk to you boss." She strode into the room and pulled up a rickety chair. "I ran into a couple Catorces out there. They said to tell you Quix is on his way to talk to you about some kind of plot."

Without waiting for Vince to respond, Speedball grinned. "We're in. Who are we going to kill?"

Three gave him a withering look. "What are you high on today, Speedy? You haven't even heard the details."

"If we're destroying something, I'm for it. And don't call me Speedy, bitch."

"Don't call me bitch, asshole."

"That's enough." Vince glared at Speedball, then turned his attention to Three. "What else did the Catorces say?"

She gave a little shrug that shifted her cleavage in a way Vince would've liked to have seen more of. "They didn't want to talk in public. You never know who's an informer, but they hinted it was some kind of gang alliance to bring El Duque down."

Speedball nodded in satisfaction. "We'll blow the bastard up next time he goes to that bakery he likes. Then we'll take over the city. It'll be a revolution!"

"If we kill El Duque, who will be in charge?" Three demanded.

"We don't need leaders. Every man for himself."

"Of course we need leaders, otherwise it'll be chaos."

"What's wrong with chaos? Are you too weak to handle it?"

"What's wrong with decent leadership? Are you too weak in the head to understand it?"

"Stop that, both of you," Vince said. "If you two have something to work out, do it elsewhere."

Three stood up. With a little sneer at Speedball, she announced that she wouldn't dream of fighting someone who was mentally impaired.

Vince watched her flounce out of the room and suppressed a sigh of disappointment.

"Quit staring at her ass, boss."

"What? Get out of here." Vince shooed Speedball away. "Next time I see you, be ready to talk sense, or you're out."

Alone, Vince reached in the drawer of his rusty office desk and took out a bottle of scotch that he had pilfered from a recent warehouse heist. Speedball needed to do something about his drug habit and in the meantime, Three was going to have to quit goading him. Those weren't the least of his worries either, and now one of his best allies was on his way over to entice him to join a revolution?

Vince took a sip of stolen single malt and sighed. Clearly a revolution was needed, but the place to begin was here.