Three years ago. Rome, Italy.

  Dressed in a snazzy dark red suit with a gray dress shirt underneath and a black tie, Corbeld leaves the elevator to walk out into the hotel lobby. He pulls out a silver pocket watch to gleam the time. Three-thirty in the afternoon. He looks up to see Magrath approaching in a deep blue suit with a white undershirt and purple tie.

  “There you are old chap. Shall we?” Magrath proposes.

  He gestures for Corbeld to follow. He nods and does just that. The two waltz out of the hotel. Magrath has reserved a taxi steam carriage for the two of them. Corbeld stares out the window as the carriage is moving along. Magrath lights up a cigar and takes a big puff.

  “So, where exactly are you taking us? You haven’t said nary a word about it since proposing this trip.” Corbeld asks.

  “You’ll see. I’ve been here a few times and I always make time to go here.”

  “How… vague of you.”

  After a nearly half-hour trip, the carriage pulls up to the Spanish Steps just below the Church of Santissima Trinità dei Monti. Magrath leads the way out of the carriage. Various folks are walking around on this brisk, sunny day in Spring. The two men stop by a cart selling meat skewers. Corbeld bites down on the meat while they walk up the stairs towards the church. Magrath pauses for a moment to let Corbeld finish his skewer. They dispose of the sticks into the nearest trash can.

  “Delicious, yes?” Magrath chuckles.

  “Indeed. Some of the finest meat I’ve ever had the pleasure of consuming.”

  “I’m glad. A nice little meal before we head inside. T’would be quite disrespectful to be eating inside of a holy sanctuary.”

  Magrath gently opens the doors leading inside of the church. The interior is meticulously clean. Beautiful stone walkway leading to the high altar. Ropes sanction off the pockets on each side of the oak pews aligned with various pieces of artwork and paintings. They stop for a moment to take in the sights. Corbeld particularly loved the gorgeous stone altar adorned with stone carvings of angels, gilded candleholders, and a miniature chapel with golden pillars and a golden cross. Elegant chandeliers surround the altar.

  “Isn’t this place just magnificent? You know… I would always sit and pray whenever I’d visit here.” Magrath says.

  “Really? Didn’t take you for a religious man.”

  “I’m not open about it. But it’s true. Enjoy the sights. Our real destination… is above us.”

  Magrath leads Corbeld up a flight of stairs to the rooftop overlooking the Spanish Stairs and grand monument erected in front of the church’s doors. A gentle breeze blows. Magrath leans against the stone rails. Corbeld does the same. He takes a deep breath.

  “So. We’re here. What did you want to discuss?” Corbeld asks.

  Magrath clears his throat. Corbeld crosses his arms.

  “You and I share the same ideals. Always have. Our beautiful city is nearly on the cusp of perfection is it not? Well, I recently got to thinking and… Something is missing. Or rather, something is needed.” Magrath speaks.

  “Go on. I’m all ears.”

  “Poverty is an issue. A stain on London’s society. Now while I understand not everyone below the line is there by choice, many of them still are. They claim a crippling condition and receive money from the government every month in hopes they’ll get their life together. But do they?”

  “Hmm. No?”

  “Exactly. These degenerates have no will to improve. To fit into society. Instead, they wallow in their own piss and feces. Take residence inside abandoned buildings or empty lots. Resort to stealing. Begging. All while huddled around barrels or inside makeshift tents of cloth fabric to consume narcotics crafted inside labs or gardens. All that money given to them by the government just vanishes. Nothing ever changes. It’s horrible.”

  “I know. Been a real problem since after the war. Met quite a few veterans. Some stuck in a rut. Others who’ve climbed out of hell more then once. But what are you getting at here?”

  “I propose a plan. A grand operation under the cover of shadows. Away from the eyes of authority. We know some good folk who aren’t too keen on the stain of society. We forge a secret organization using our available resources. All of us have wealth. Stable positions. Are beloved by our peers. Nobody would suspect a thing of us.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Corbeld takes a deep breath. He shakes his head.

  “I’m not sure if this is sounding like a bright idea.” He mutters.

  “Now now, my friend. This is only the first step of many. Order must be brought to our society. Crime many not be a major issue but the stain of society’s lowest form certainly is and nobody has done a damned thing about it. That… is where we come in.”

  “Are you proposing we do something about the poor and worthless?”

  “Right on the money. Eradication. Eliminate the stain on our society by any means necessary. Clean up our streets. If the government won’t do it… then we just have to.”

  “Oh? And how do you propose we even initiate such a major-scale plan?”

  “Simple on paper. Killing them. Nobody is going to miss worthless street trash. I’m not talking murder here. Let’s be more… creative here. What’s something that’s harmful to any human being?”

  Corbeld thinks for a minute. Then it clicks in his mind.

  “Disease.” He says.

  “Sickness, yes.”

  “The means to infect the poorest to cull them. Is… that sounding about right?”

  “What if we amass a family of vermin. Not by capturing them ourselves but outsourcing funds to acquaintances outside our borders. We construct a place of operations. Let them breed. Then when the time is perfect… Unleash the rats upon the homeless. The most minute of contact can spread their diseases. Those people are far too poor to seek medical attention. It won’t take long for them to start dropping like flies from the infections.”

  Corbeld’s eyes widened. He felt sickened to his stomach. He blinks several times.

  “Magrath… This is horrific. Is that truly where your mind concluded on with this this grand operation of yours?”

  Magrath leans over. He puts a hand on Corbeld’s shoulder.

  “Trust me chap. I know it sounds like the devil’s work. But I guarantee if nothing is done… It will only get worse. Poverty is not an easy issue to tackle but the government has always been hard at work to prevent it. Unfortunately, it’s not that simple to just… make vanish. Besides, you work with the Institute. If we segregate these areas populated by the homeless, let the Institute handle the breakout and burn the bodies en masse. You know better than nearly anyone how effective the Institute is with health crises.”

  “I- Ugh. I mean… It will surely pose a health risk to the population. But the Institute will lock down anyplace and prevent further risks.”

  “Exactly chap! We’re doing the heavy lifting here. Surely it couldn’t take too long for this to work effectively. All it will take is many months of planning and executing. We will only have one chance otherwise so the timing must be perfect.”

  Corbeld sighs. He stands to walk ahead with his back turned to Magrath. He ponders for a few minutes in silence. Magrath wears a smirk on his face. Corbeld turns back to face him and nods.

  “Alright. Fine. You’re an intelligent man. If this is possible to pull off… You will ensure it does not fail. Besides… I am in agreement that London is in dire need of purging this ever-growing problem before it spreads too far like a cancer.” Corbeld murmurs.

  Magrath goes up to him and extends a hand. Corbeld shakes it.

  “Glad we see eye-to-eye. After all, you’ll be a crucial cog in this machine. So, your cooperation is needed for this operation to work. Let’s keep it on the down low. I’ll be sure to keep you posted on any significant progress I make.” Magrath replies.

  “But of course.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t have to resort to prodding you over this. I had hoped it would take but one conversation. Now then. We still have two days here in beautiful Rome. Let us enjoy the sights, partake in delicious meals and live it up! Haha!”

  Magrath pats Corbeld on the back as the two head for the stairs to descend back into the church.

  One and a half years ago. London, England.

  An abandoned sewage facility sits slowly eroding with time. A man with thinning white hair and a bushy mustache pulls out a sheet of paper from within his coat. He hands it to Corbeld, standing next to him.

  “Well. We’ve talked over the course of the past couple days. You’ve fronted the cash. Signed the papers. I present you the deed now. Congratulations. This place belongs to you now mister Corbeld.” The man says.

  Corbeld nods. He takes the paper to unfurl it. He gleams the deed then looks up at the building.

  “I’m not sure what your plans are for this ol’ place. ‘Bit rundown but has potential to be reformed into something else. Since the gov’ment won’t touch it, I think I offered it at a relatively cheap price.”

  Corbeld shakes the man’s hand after he slips the paper into his inner coat pocket.

  “Certainly. I have… plans of my own. Besides, now it can’t be claimed as shelter for those street folk. It’ll do.” Corbeld murmurs.

  “Mhm. ‘Tis a shame these ol’ relics of the past are left to rot. Anyway, it’s time I head out. Pleasure doin’ business with ya’ sir.”

  The man departs from the property. Corbeld heads to a nearby phone booth. He puts a couple coins into the slot then dials a number. It rings a few times before someone on the other end picks up. They ask who this is.

  Corbeld clears his throat and begins to speak;

  “This is Corbeld. I’ve acquired ownership for the old sewage plant. Give word to the others. The vermin can be housed there down in the maintenance room. Yes… we’re one step closer to executing this operation. I’ll speak with you soon.”

  Corbeld heads into the old sewage plant. He walks over to the door over to the far right. The stairs lead down into the maintenance room. Glancing around, a smirk comes across his face. With the facility cut off from the city’s sewage lines, the rusting generator will need some fixing to get working again. Power will need to be diverted just to this room instead of the entire building. He sees the potential here. A calmness sweeps over him. He rubs his hands together and proceeds to leave.