Evil Genius: Criminal Masterminds

By Manof1000words

Chapter 1: The Island

The blue-green sea swelled around the hull of the racing luxury yacht, barreling towards the edge of the map. Because of the blazing sunshine refracting off the ocean's surface, much of the ship's crew was inside, protecting themselves from the harsh, intensified ultraviolet radiation. Below deck, the crew in yellow jumpsuits patrolled the boat.

A tall man in orange and blue traditional Japanese clothing and katana sheathed at his side stood guard outside a large set of double doors located in the yacht's bow. From inside the room, all he could hear was the muffled conversation of the room's occupants: Maximillion and his advisors, Mr. Matthews and Mr. Paul.

"How much farther to this island, Mr. Paul?" said Maximillion.

"We should be arriving there later today, sir," Mr. Paul replied.

"And you say this island has everything I requested?"

"Yes. It is secluded, unmarked on any map, and has a large mountain for you to carve your base of operations in. Oh, and the whole island is a desert, so intruders will have nowhere to hide."

"Perfect. Mr. Matthews, any problems so far?"

"Nothing yet, sir. There was a signal we had intercepted, but traces were inconclusive."

"I see."

A red light on the desk before Maximillion lit up and the intercom beeped.

"Mr. Maximillion, we can see the island on the horizon!" came a voice over the intercom.

"Thank you." Maximillion switched off the intercom. "Gentlemen, you are excused."

Mr. Matthews and Mr. Paul nodded to Maximillion as they stood and proceeded towards the door.

The baking sand of the island didn't make the heat of the sun any less intense, but it didn't seem to bother Maximillion. He had other things on his mind as he walked up the beach, making his way towards the large red mountain sitting center stage. He scanned his surrounding area, and when he looked behind him, Maximillion saw his advisors racing up the beach towards him.

"Mr. Maximillion! Mr. Maximillion! I must protest your random wanderings!"

"And what exactly do you mean, Mr. Paul?"

"Well, when we sprung you from the grasp of the World Union, I believe there may have been an intel leak. We cannot be for sure, but someone could have beaten us here."

"I see." Maximillion responded nonchalantly. "Mr. Matthews, you have the plans?"

"Yes, they are right here."

Mr. Matthews passed Maximillion the blue prints he was carrying under his arms.

"Are you positive we have sufficient materials to begin phase one of construction?" Maximillion inquired.

"Yes. We have the dynamite and funds on board. Only four workers, but they are very diligent and will have phase one complete in no time," Mr. Matthews replied.

Maximillion took another scan of the area when he spotted a small, dilapidated shack. "Have the workers move the funds into that shack for now and then continue with the construction of the base."

The blue prints moved back to Mr. Matthews' hands as Maximillion took a few steps forward, pointing at the base of the mountain ahead of him.

"That is where I want the entrance."

Mr. Paul shouted the orders to the yellow suited crew gathered at the bow of the yacht and they all ran below deck, soon to return carrying cases full of money and brought them to the shack. The Japanese bodyguard came above deck and made his way next to Maximillion.

"Mr. Maximillion, as your advisor, I suggest you return below deck for safety reasons," cautioned Mr. Paul.

"I will remain right here. If there is any danger, Jubei is a very capable henchman and will protect me. After being stuck on that yacht for days and days on end, I'd much rather be out here, thank you very much. And as your boss, Mr. Paul, if you advise me to return below deck once more, I will shoot you."

Mr. Paul shrunk away beside Mr. Matthews and Maximillion turned back to watch the minions work. For thirty minutes, the workers ran to and fro from the boat's hull and as they returned to the shack with the cases.

As Maximillion was watching his employees work, he noticed a black mass out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't make out what it was at first, but it didn't take him too long to figure it out.

"Mr. Matthews, we seem to have a problem," Maximillion said, calmly.

"What, sir?"

From that once black mass in the distance, gunfire echoed off the wall of the mountain and the bullet struck the sand just before Maximillion's left toe.

"Agents," Maximillion pointed out.

Mr. Matthews shouted orders at the yellow suited workers and they soon jumped to action, running across the sand towards the attackers.

"Only two of you!" Maximillion shouted. "Let's not waste effort."

Two minions pulled back and returned organizing money in the shack. The other continued their advance, and began firing. The agents returned the favor, and killed their attackers.

"Jubei. Go have some fun." Maximillion grinned at the words.

Saying nothing, Jubei sprang forward, unsheathed his katana and, holding it by his side, racing towards the intruders. Unflinchingly, he stormed then and cut them up like clockwork. The blade at his side glinted in the sunlight with each pass through the agents' flesh. Soon, they were all on the ground…dead.

"You were right, Mr. Paul, " Maximillion began, "There was an intelligence leak. Only one reason could explain them being here already. You told me this island was marked on no map. That, my friend, is a lie. You couldn't have possible found this small spit of land in such a short time. I was only under lock and key for a year and a half and you're trying to have me believe you searched every inch of every ocean in a year? Talk about improbabilities."

"But, sir…"

"… I don't want to hear your excuses. The World Union has already shown some interest in this island, as we have just witnessed. The signal that was intercepted by Mr. Matthews was inconclusive, why? Because its source was from you, Mr. Paul. You had alerted the World Union of the island's coordinates. You are a traitor, and a double agent. Unfortunately, I do not yet have the proper facilities for dealing with double agents, so consider yourself lucky."

Maximillion withdrew a gun from inside his jacket and pointed it straight at Mr. Paul's forehead.

"Mr. Paul, I'm terminating your contract."

One pull of the trigger, and Mr. Paul fell on the sand. Maximillion didn't move a muscle.

"Mr. Matthews!" Maximillion finally lowered the gun. "We seem to have a need to change the plans."

"What would you like to change, sir?" Mr Matthews responded.

"The staff room…make it a freezer. I'll be in my quarters."

Maximillion returned to his room on the yacht.