Luther: A Criminal Underword Odyssey

Luca's hands returned to his lap. His nervousness began to set in as the reality of the situation overwhelmed him.

There is another pause between the two before Luca chose his next words. "Where are you taking me?" he asked.

Luther looked in the rearview and adjusted the mirror.

"That old butler of yours is one tough fella. He's going to be alright though," said Luther.

Luca repeated his question, "Where are you taking me?"

Luther tapped their finger on the steering wheel.

"Not far. Few friends wanted to help your old dad with some career decisions."

Luther turned at a light and readjusted themselves upward in their seat. Luca's eyes pierced at them through the mirror. His nervousness and fear were momentarily vanquished, but remnents remained; as if he was wearing a loose-fitted mask.

"What you're doing isn't right," Luca muttered.

Luther smirks, "Yeah well, let's just say kidnapping you wasn't on my bingo card for the week."

"You're a coward."

"Am I now?"

"You are," Luca reaffirmed 

Luther raised an eyebrow and humored the kid, "What makes you say that."

"My father says people like you are cowards. Your quicker to fight against your government, rather than enter any conflict to protect the country itself."

"Look at you. Your big heroic father must've taught you so much. You already have everything figured out."

"Kidnapping me won't work." Luca's demeanor changed a bit as he paused between sentances, "His work is his biggest priority."

Luther comes to a stop at a light. The running vehicle drowned out the silence between the two.

Luther lets out a small sigh and rolled their eyes, "Look, it really doesn't matter to me whether it works or not. So, save your sob story for the next kidnapper. I saw how he treated you in the dining room."

"Then why do this?"

"Paycheck."

The light changed to green and Luther drove forward.

"So, what are you? A thief? Bounty hunter? Assassin?"

"I'm whatever is asked of me. When you've been in the game as long as I have, it all tends to blur together. Wars break out, countries disagree, men strive for power that belongs to no one. The usual schlock. It's all a cycle."

Luca looks down at his backpack. The small tank keychain jingled against the movement of a speed bump.

"You say that like it's all a bad thing?"

"They say the pride of the few is the cost for all."

"People die all the time. At least in war it's honorable."

"That a quote from the living?" Luther asked with a hint of sarcasm.

There is a brief pause again between the two. Luther begins to enter some downtown traffic.

"You just seem bitter," Luca said, annoyed.

"I am. Don't mistake it. I lost everything for people like your father. Spent a whole lifetime thinking my effort could make a difference. Load of shit that was."

As Luthor spoke, they noticed that Luca was observing different parts of the vehicle. Trying to think of anything that might be useful in escaping

"Look kid, I know all of this is inconvenient. Just don't try to cause trouble for the adults and it'll be over soon. Promise."

Luca relaxed a bit more in his seat, he didn't find anything to help him anyways. His glance now turned back to Luther.

"What's wrong with your face?" Luca asked.

Luther gave a slight smile, almost laughing. "You just now noticed?"

"You look like a monster."

"That's because I am one. So don't piss me off too much." Luther said as they lightly tapped at the tip of their jagged horn.

"Did you always look like that?"

This time Luther didn't respond. They turned into an alleyway. The vehicle came to a slow stop. Luther grabbed the gun and turned around from their chair to face Luca.

"Look, as lovely as this conversation has been," Luther said aiming the gun at the child. "...and believe me, it's been lovely."

Luther pulled the trigger of the gun; a dart shot out and tranquilized Luca in the chest. Luca's eyelids began to weigh down as though gravity in the vehicle had increased tenfold. What vision he had left started to blur.

"We've reached our stop," Luther said as Luca collapsed over.

With the boy passed out in the back of the car, Luther turned the engine of the Cadillac off. They stepped out of the front of the vehicle and moved to the door for the back seat. Opening the door, Luther picked Luca up and carried him over their shoulder. The alley was dark and in a mostly abandoned part of the city, so Luther's guard was low. They approached a steel door which led into one of the buildings in the alley. They gave the steel door eight distinct knocks with a varying number of seconds between each hit. The door cracked open with a set of eyes piercing through.

"Password?" The voice grunted through the slight of the door.

"You want the kid or not?" Luther responded.

There was a momentary standoff between the two. The voice on the other side of the door asked for the password again, much to Luther's displeasure. 

Luther's locked eyes with the NLC soldier and said, "A new march will begin on the red bodies of Rome."

The door closed again. After a few seconds, a knock came out from the window on the other side of the alley; a nearby scout to signal that the alleyway was clear and it was safe to open the door. The bolted locks on the steel door jolted inwards and the door opened. Two burley members of the National Liberation Committee stood in the doorway before moving aside for Luther.

Inside the building it was revealed to have previously been a barbershop. Long since abandoned, the chairs, mirrors and tools all have a thick layer of dust and grime on them. The lights flicker on a low dim as Luther is escorted across the room towards the stairs.

One of the members took a passing glance at Luca as Luther passed by, "Why is the kid asleep?" He asked.

"Talked too much," Luther responded.

Heading upstairs Luther is approached by two more members of the committee. They removed Luca from their arms and set the child in a chair; tying him up and placing tape over his mouth so he can't make too much noise when he wakes up. One of the members opened the door to an office room, where Luther took a seat to wait. The door behind him was shut and locked after entering.

The office is in poor shape. A makeshift desk is littered in folders, books and maps. A dresser on the side of the room had a cantor of whiskey with a couple of glasses; they're the only things clean. A nearby bookshelf contained a few oddly stacked books on it. Luther wandered over to take a look. Encyclopedias, dictionaries, and photo albums from a time long lost all caught their eye. Yet their finger landed on a single, out of place, notecard. It was faded with the date November 14th, 1915 on one side and a message from what appeared to be a soldier to his wife on the other side.

As Luther began reading the message, the office door unlocked and a man entered, "That card was written by my father," said the man.

Luther turned their attention to the host. He was young, no older than mid to late twenties, with silky, curly, dark brown hair, strong eyebrows and a small but muscular frame.

"I didn't mean to pry," Luther responded.

The man gave a hand gesture to signal that no harm had been committed. He walked by Luther and took a seat at his desk.

"My father wrote that when he was deployed by the Italian military in the great war. They were undermanned and unprepared for the brutality that awaited them. At the time, I was to be born in the oncoming months. My father was unsure if he'd ever meet me, so he wrote letters to my mother in case he didn't make it home."

"And did he make it?" Luther asked.

"Physically, yes. He returned from war the following spring. Mentally, however, he never left the trenches. Shortly after the birth of my younger brother, he hung himself. My mother would tell us stories of the man he was before he left, but rarely spoke of those final years. Those cards are the latest I know of him."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

The man snapped back into place and reached out his hand, "Where are my manners, my name is Ezio Brando. I am in charge of this section of the National Liberation Committee in Rome. I was one of the few to coordinate this assignment."

Luther reached out to shake Ezio's hand. As Luther returned to their seat, Ezio walked over to the cantor of whiskey.

"Care for a drink?" Ezio asked.

Luther got back onto their feet and moved beside Ezio.

"Mind if I pour it myself?" Luther replied.

Ezio shrugged and handed over the cantor, "Not at all."

"In my line of work, we're all just loose ends waiting to get tied," Luther said while pouring for two glasses of whiskey.

They handed Ezio a glass and motioned for a cheer. Luther waited for Ezio to drink first before partaking in the beverage. The two of them returned to their seats to get down to business.

As Luther took another sip, Ezio began to reach under the table. Luther quickly armed their pistol and took momentary aim. Ezio is quick to put out his other hand.

"Be calm my friend. This is a safe space."

Ezio slowly brought out an envelope and Luther holstered their weapon. He tossed the envelope across the table.

"This is for your hard work today."

He pointed his hand towards the envelope, signaling Luther to pick it up. They picked up the envelope and began to count the money on the inside.

Before Luther could finish Ezio leaned back in his chair and said, "The job however, isn't quite finished."

"For me it is," Luther informed.

"What if I paid double the rate?"

Luther's ears pricked up at the offer. They knew it was better to walk away with a pocket full of cash; but just like a gambler that hit it big, they weren't one to walk away with money on the table. Luther set the envelope back down on the desk and leaned in.

"What did you have in mind?"

Ezio smiles and opens a drawer in the desk. He removes an expensive bottle of scotch and hands it to Luther to pour.

"Earlier this morning, we sent our demands to Bolero's office. During Mussolini's broadcast tonight, he will take the stage and publicly step down from his position as a Marshall—"

"—And now you need me to return the child?" Luther interrupted.

"That's the job."

"That's a trap."

"Which is why I can't send my own men. If they were killed, it would be one thing; but if they're captured, that would compromise everything. All this work towards our noble cause would be for nothing."

"All causes are noble," Luther responded.

"That might be" Ezio playfully acknowledged.

Ezio rose from his seat. He moved over to a painting on the wall. Removing it from the hook, a safe was revealed behind it. He spent a moment turning the knob on the front to open it. Upon opening the safe, he removed two additional cards and another envelope. Ezio closed the safe and returned to the desk.

"This envelope includes double the pay for completing the return. The first card here is for a phone number. You can call this number from anywhere and give the person on the other end of the line your location. They will then connect you with our closest safehouse. This second card with my signature will serve as payment to use the safehouse. These cards are an additional gift for you. To use anywhere across Italy."

Luther is tempted by the payout, but needs more details on the mission itself.

"Cash and favors are all good and dandy if I live. So, what's the plan to make that happen?"

Ezio set the items aside and began searching through the maps and documents that cover the desk.

"Someone with your set of talents can make it out easy. Either with violence, or escaping through – other means."

"And what might be these other means?" Luther inquired.

Ezio found the map he was looking for and laid it out on the desk.

"The drop off location we've decided on is an old abandoned opera house in east Rome. Should the situation get too big for you to handle, there is a stairway backstage that takes you to a maintenance room. From the maintenance room you can use the access ladder to the sewer system that runs underneath and through the city."

Luther leans back unconvinced, "What's to stop them from chasing after me?"

Ezio reached for a device on his desk and sets it front and center. Luther quickly recognizes it.

"A detonator? You have explosives?" Luther says mildly surprised. Explosives had become harder to come by since the start of the second world war, and finding any in Italy was a bigger challenge within itself.

"We've set up explosives to create a cave-in to the entryway of the sewers. By the time the soldiers could find another way in to give chase, you'll be long gone."

Luther takes a drink from their scotch and pours another glass.

"Mind if I make a phone call? Luther asked.

"Not at all," Ezio said.

The two partners took their glasses of scotch and cheered to the continued collaboration of another assignment.