Worse than the Devil

"Tell him what you told me."

I rolled my eyes and sighed. Michael had taken me to talk to Nacio about my idea. Granted, I would've done the same thing, but talking to old people unnerves me.

"I want to stage a coup d'état," I declared. Nacio just stared. His eyes only slightly moved as if trying to figure out whether I was joking or not.

"Are you insane?" He asked after a few moments.

"Uh honestly, maybe," I deadpanned. "But that doesn't really change anything."

He continued to look at me with a critical eye. "My grandson tells me that you're the greatest strategist he knows, so please explain."

I smiled. "Tell me, have you ever heard of Napoleon Bonaparte?"

"I have not," He said while shaking his head. "Is he someone from your world?"

"My world?" I repeated back in a quiet voice. I looked over to Michael for some sort of explanation. "Did you tell him?"

"Yes I did," He nodded his head. "You can trust him."

"Does he know about my background?"

"All I've told him was how we met."

I faced the floor and rubbed my head. "Well, that'll save us some time."

"Napoleon Bonaparte was arguably one of the most successful emperors of France. He led several military operations that conquered European lands. However, his rise to power was due to a bloodless coup d'état."

"That's your plan? A bloodless coup d'état?" His voice made it sound like I was crazy. "That'll never work, much less in a short amount of time."

"Well, that's the thing with military operations. If it works, it's called brilliant. If it fails, it's called suicidal."

"That's your defense? You want me to send my men in for a gamble?"

"Your men?" I repeated while clicking my tongue. "No, I'm not going to ask for your men. I'm only going to do this with people that I trust."

"And who will that be?" His voice began to rise higher as the absurdity of my words seemed crazier to him. "Citizens of Avalon? They've never seen half the weapons we have. Thousands of deaths will be on your hands."

I raised my hand up and held up all five fingers. "I only need four other people plus Michael. And I'm only taking people that I trust because when swords start swinging when bullets start flying, I need them to follow orders and not run away. I need to know that when things go wrong, they have a survival instinct."

Nacio turned to Michael. His face was etched with concern. "And you're okay with this?"

Michael took a deep inhale. "He'll only do it if I come along, so yes."

"A king willing to die for his country," I said with an amused chuckle. "Surprisingly, that's not something you see a lot."

Nacio closed his eyes before looking at me. "How do you plan on executing this?"

"Heh," I chuckled as I took out a marker I had previously used while explaining to Michael. "It's simply really. There's only two steps."

For the next few hours, I began detailing my entire plan, not leaving out any details. I had answered every question that they had about even the most minute detail. When I started explaining, it was mid-day. However, it was now nighttime.

When I had finished, the room was silent. They both had to take it all in.

"And suppose this all worked out how you want it to," Nacio began. "What then? You'll become king?"

"No, I can't do that," I said, shaking my head. "Their nation was already stolen from them once. I can't do it again. Rather, I'll be returning it to them."

He nodded his head. His fearful face transitioned into a more neutral one. I guessed that he might've been worried that I would've become another dictator.

"Michael told me you were a selfish person, so what do you get out of this?" He asked suspiciously.

"He wants to be able to import and export from Atlantis."

"That'll go against our doctrine." He protested.

"What good are principles if you can't live to act on them?" I asked rhetorically with an amused laugh. "Heh, look. I've already built the foundation for mass production of chips, materials, energy, everything that Atlantis has, and more, except better. If you agree, I'll do all manufacturing in Atlantis and even pay taxes. Your economy is going to skyrocket."

He looked over to Michael, silently asking for his opinion.

"Grandfather, I think it's worth it," He answered. "He can bring us into the next century."

"But what happens when it fails?" Nacio countered. "What happens when you face a firing squad?"

"If I can add something," I interrupted. They both looked at me. "It's considered an honor to die by firing squad. It means you did your job well."

"Not helping," Michael said. I raised my hand up in defeat. "But I trust it won't happen."

Nacio looked kept staring at Michael with extreme concern. I saw a small tear form in his eye before he blinked it away and looked at me.

"You designed the jet right?"

"The one and only," I answered while running my hands through my hair dramatically. "Actually, while we're on the subject, I have one more term I'd like to add."

"What now?" Michael asked loudly and irritably.

"Calm down! It's really easy. I just want you to send a letter to the Academy of Avalon about your recommendation to admit Andres Angelo."

Michael slowly nodded his head. "Alright."

I looked over to Nacio. The last person that I needed permission from. "So Nacio, do you agree?"

"Your plan relies on too many assumptions. There are too many points of failure," He said as he began to approach me.

"However, Michael trusts you, and in theory, your plan will work."

"I promise you that it'll work," I asserted. "There are several contingencies in place."

He continued to look at me with a serious gaze. "I'll agree to your terms."

A wide and victorious smile came onto my face. "Good choice Mr. Payne. Am I free to go recruit the other members?"

He slowly and reluctantly nodded his head. "It was nice meeting you," I said before walking out of the room.

Nacio faced Michael. His face already looked like it was filled with regret just mere seconds after agreeing. "I see now what you're talking about. He really is brilliant."

Michael gave a light chuckle. "He's only gotten better."

"That's what I fear," Nacio said as he stared out the window. He looked at the beautiful, green landscape of his country. Perhaps it would be the last time he would see it. "We have just made a deal with the devil."

Michael shook his head. "No, not the devil. If Zack were to make a deal with the devil himself, he would still come out ahead."

Nacio clicked his tongue and spoke in a somber voice. "I have no doubt he would."

-----

It'd been years since I had worn a backpack. It's simple things like that that I've missed a lot. When I put it on, it gave me warm feelings of nostalgia. All the trips abroad and even to school felt like it was a lifetime ago.

However, those actions were miles apart from what I was about to do. The warm feelings I had were replaced with a cold and dark one as I entered a dark room.

In the middle of it was a bulky man that was bound to a chair. It was my torturer. His eyes immediately snapped to me as I entered the room and closed the door.

"Oh, how the tables have turned Mr. Colt," I said with a dark laugh. I could barely contain my curiosity for what I had planned.

"P-please let me go!" He begged. "I-I'm sorry! I was just following orders!"

"That's what the Nazis said too," I replied as I dragged a nearby table over. I began taking out several items from my backpack. A bowl, water bottle, syringe, and a box. I poured the water into the bowl placed the syringe in the box and set it on the table.

He stared at the items in anticipation. His eyes and entire body were shaking out of fear. There was no way he could've known what was happening next.

"I'll be quick with this since I don't have a lot of time," I said as I looked at the watch on my wrist for more exaggeration.

"The water in the bowl is filled with Naegleria. When it goes up your nose, it begins to eat your brain cells. At first, you'll have a fever, stiff neck, and headache, but the real fun starts in about eight hours. The amoeba will reach the pain centers of your brain and cause excruciating and never-ending pain. The pain isn't coming from anywhere, so morphine won't work." I smiled as I sat down and looked at him.

"Please don't," He begged weakly.

"That's entirely up to you," I said as my smile grew wider. "I'll give you two choices: either dunk your head in the bowl and let the amoeba go into your brain or I can send the video of you torturing me to your kids, wife, and entire family."

He stared at me with wide eyes which made me smile even more. In fact, I started to laugh as I observed his reaction.

"So, before you make your choice, think about your sons Hugh and Tom."

If it was possible, his eyes would've gotten even bigger. "Don't hurt them, please."

I rested my head on my hand. I looked at him condescendingly. "You see, mental torture, if done right, is slower, but will hurt even more. It's less effort and better yet, you can permanently break them."

I stood up from the floor. "Make your choice in the next ten seconds before I make it for you."

I looked at my watch and began to count down. "10.

9

8

7

6

5

4"

"Bowl," He said weakly. I pushed his chair, albeit slowly, over to the table. He stared at the bowl before slowly taking a breath in and moving his head down. I kept my hand on the top of his head for 10 seconds to make sure there was ample time before pulling it back up.

"Well done Mr. Colt!" I clapped my hands. "But what if I told you that the water ... was just water!"

He took a brief sigh of relief before I burst his bubble.

"Well, you'll find out in eight hours if the pain starts," I said as I began to leave the room. "If it actually has Naegleria, then the syringe in the reinforced glass box has the only known treatment. Break it and it's yours."

"T-tell me!" He demanded as my footsteps echoed through the hall. "Is it actually poisoned?"

"The placebo effect is strong my friend," I responded before walking out completely.

In truth, the water didn't actually have Naegleria. However, he wouldn't find out. He'll think that it actually has and that'll cause the fever, headache, and neck pain.

Not only that, he would struggle for the syringe which only contained saline.

If it were anyone else, I would feel awful doing this. Not just awful but appalled and disgusted. But considering what he did to me and Andres, and the fact that we were just teenagers, it was deserved. Readers, don't pretend that you wouldn't do it as well if given the choice. Humans love inflicting pain on others for their own amusement.

I could live with myself, especially since I wasn't actually harming him yet.

All in all, I was satisfied for now. But it's time for business. I had started to feel like I was in a dramatic movie or something as one thought passed my mind.

'Time to recruit everyone!'