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Monday, January 14, 2019 | Bona Depello Group HQ | Arlington, Virginia

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Sebastian stands from his desk, having been informed by Janet, his personal secretary, of a previously unannounced visitor, he walks across the room and opens the door. Much to his chagrin, standing on the other side of Janet’s desk is his son, which he could have guessed. The same one he so loathes and loves at the same time.

”Father,” Thaddeus greets his father.

”He’s your son?” Janet asks Sebastian as she turns to face him.

”I try to forget. As I’m sure he does likewise,” he replies. ”We don’t exactly get along. We don’t see eye to eye really, on anything.”

Janet eyeballs her boss up and down. ”He doesn’t look anything like you. I usually have an eye for that type of thing.”





”Spitting image of his late mother,” he answers back.

”It’s a good thing I suppose. He’s handsome. You’re a man of 35 that doesn’t look a day under 45.”

”I’m not handsome?” Sebastian asks as he cracks a smile.

”You’re my employer sir, you can’t be handsome,” she retorts quickly.

”Come in, Thad,” he says to the boy, ignoring Janet’s joke. The two men enter his office and Sebastian closes the door. ”There’s YooHoo in the mini-fridge,” he states as he passes by to sit behind his desk.

Thaddeus smiles lightly as he’s sort of taken aback that his father, whom he really hasn’t ever gotten along with, would have a supply of his favorite soft drink. ”Don’t mind if I do,” he says as he reaches toward the fridge tucked into the right wall.

”So what brings you in?”

”Bona Depello Group for starters,” Thaddeus answers, somewhat uneasily. ”The last we talked, dad, it was a security firm. That’s what I signed off on, that’s what I approved. Not this,” he explains further.

”And what is this exactly, Thaddeus?”

Before answering, the young man shakes his YooHoo, taps the top, then pops it open and takes a drink. ”Latin is an Illuminatus thing, dad. Bona Depello. Granted, it’s a loose translation, but its Asset Extraction,” he answers.

”First off, this is way too soon for you to be making unannounced visits to my office. Secondly, while you are technically correct, this business venture I’m on has nothing to do with you or the fucking Illuminatus...”

”Calm down man, we’re just talking here,” Thaddeus interrupts. Whether he intended it that way or not, Thaddeus ought to know by now that Sebastian Duke despises being interrupted. In his mind, its a form of great disrespect.

”Okay, I’mma do you a favor and stay calm, but you’re on MY property now. You’re in MY office. You will respect me here, boy. Is that understood?” he asks. Before waiting for his response, Sebastian continues on. ”Allow me to be perfectly fucking clear, Thaddeus. I do not appreciate you showing up here without warning. Because as I said, this venture has no connection to the Illuminatus except for the fact that I own the damn thing and no matter whether I am in or out of your Illuminatus, Thaddeus, my name will always and forever be attached to it. So you can make the trip down here from Connecticut to do your grandstanding and your micromanagement of me all you want, but its useless and serves no purpose other than to stroke your obviously fragile ego.

“Here, I’m the boss. I pay the bills, I pay my guys, I respect those that put their lives on the line for this company. If you disrespect me, you’re disrespecting them and I won’t have it. Have I made myself clear?”

Thaddeus nods, affirming agreement with his father.

”Bona Depello,” Sebastian begins as he stands up. He paces slowly behind his desk. ”There’s a lot of things that fall under that umbrella, Thaddeus. While it’s not a private security firm per se, it is still legal and above board 100%. We extract assets that are pinned down behind enemy lines, we perform covert operations. We do things that governments can’t touch for their own diplomatic reasons. It’s paramilitary stuff and none of it, Thaddeus,” he stops pacing and places his hands in his pants pockets while looking squarely into his sons eyes. ”Has anything to do with you.”

”Why not tell me though?”

”Because I owe you nothing. I owe you no explanation for what I do, when I do it or where I do it.”

”It’s sort of required, father. You are Illuminatus, I am the leader of the Illuminatus. Whatever you do, I have to approve of it.”

Sebastian retakes his seat behind his desk and places the ankle of one leg upon the other knee. ”Okay, I get it. I realize its an adjustment for you. You’re the leader now and all the pressure falls on you. Now when things go wrong, you can’t blame me anymore.”

”That’s not it,” Thaddeus denies emphatically.

At once Sebastian is both irritated and ashamed. On one hand, Thaddeus just disregarded his entire speech after saying he understood. On the other, it’s like talking to a brick wall. At least in that respect, father and son are alike.

”You’re showing me blatant disrespect and you are disregarding my authority by doing these things without approval. It’s setting a bad precedent and others still look to you as an example.”

”They shouldn’t.”

”Yet they do.”

”We could have gone over this when we spoke back in Old Saybrook, but Thad, you felt the need to make me feel this big,” he explains, holding his thumb and forefinger barely a half an inch apart. ”You had to assert your authority and I understand that, but Thad, how you treat those beneath you speaks volumes about your character as a human being.

“Look, I know I’ve made mistakes and yeah, maybe I brought everything on myself. I admit that. I’m trying to accept the way things are now. But let me put this into words so simple that you can’t make any mistake and I can’t give you any false impressions.

“Are you listening?”

Thaddeus nods, ”Yeah.”

”Thaddeus, after we talked. After we argued. After I nearly put you through the wall. After I nearly choked you out, do you remember what I told you?”

”Basically, sign it or don’t sign it. You didn’t care. You were gonna do whatever the hell you wanted.”

”Now listen. When I said that, then walked out of the room, that was my way of peacefully exiting the Illuminatus.”

Thaddeus sits in a stunned silence.

”You are going to be a great leader of the Illuminatus Thaddeus. Of that, I have no doubt. But I won’t be your whipping boy because you won the war. I won’t be under the thumb of you or anyone else. The victories you achieve from here on out are yours and yours alone. Your failures are yours to swallow on your own.

“I’m out, Thaddeus.”

Both Duke’s sit quietly for what seems like an hour. Thaddeus contemplates where to go from here. He wonders if his father isn’t still plotting to hatch some diabolical scheme to take back the reigns. He remembers though, that for all the mistakes his father may have made as leader, he did what he thought was best. It occurs to him that this is also the most polite and respectful conversation that they may have ever had. He decides once and for all that this is no longer about two dueling would-be leaders, no longer about Thaddeus versus Sebastian. It’s a father having a discussion with his son about the future.

”Say something,” Sebastian pleads.

”Leaving the Illuminatus altogether is without precedent, dad. It’s never been done before,” he explains his confusion some.

”It’s the right thing to do,” he begins explaining. ”It really is best for everyone. You won the war and I’ll accept that eventually. But I can not be reintegrated into it.”

”I don’t understand that.”

”Thaddeus, no matter who won and no matter who is the leader, with us both being Illuminatus there’s always going to be that segment that believes I’m the leader. The very second you make a mistake, and you will, because not even you are perfect kid. But the second you fuck up, the whispers begin. ‘Well maybe Thaddeus isn’t ready for this,’ or ‘maybe Sebastian really should be the leader.’

“It’s simple. By removing myself from the equation, you are now, until your dying day, the leader of the Illuminatus. For that reason alone, among other personal reasons, is why I can’t be a part of it anymore,” he finally concludes.

”Is that the cemetery back there?” he asks, looking past his father, seemingly having resigned to the fact that his father is right.

Sebastian turns in his chair slightly to eye the cemetery. An admiration for history is one other thing, besides stubbornness, that they absolutely have in common. ”Yeah. So many heroes rest there.”

”Do you think...” Thaddeus begins, but cuts himself short.

”Just ask it,” Sebastian urges him.

”Do you think we could ever be just, you know,” he stammers. ”I dunno. Just be father and son I guess?”

Sebastian leans back in his chair. He’s caught off guard by the question and he’s not sure he’s equipped to respond. At least not at the present time. ”Thaddeus, a lot has happened and...”

”No, I know that,” Thaddeus interrupts. ”At the end of the day, we both wanted what was best, we just had different views on how to achieve what was best.”

”I really can’t answer that. If you want to keep talking to me, call Janet, she’ll put you through,” he answers, without certainty. ”I know I haven’t been the greatest father to you,” he readily admits. ”But I’d never deny you a chat. For advice, or just to catch up.” He thinks a moment more, ”I’m not saying no, because Thad, if I could turn back time and change things, I sure as hell would change a lot of things. But I’m not convinced that you and I, with our clashing personalities, can ever just let the past go and move on.

“Really it’s not in either of our nature.”

Thaddeus gets up to prepare to leave.

”Quick question before you go: why did you name an outsider as the Director of Illuminatus Intelligence?”

”Lincoln?” Thaddeus questions aloud as he tries to rationalize the question itself. ”He was working for me on loan from the Church, but stopped working for them altogether. He proved extremely resourceful, so I just made him the chief,” he explains, hoping its enough.

”Here’s some free advice, kid: never fully trust an outsider that sells his services to the highest bidder.”

”What do you mean?”

”I’ve contracted Lincoln Tritter to work for my team and you weren’t even aware of it.”

Thaddeus scrunches up his face with a look of confusion.

”Tritter is good at what he does. I didn’t do it to prove any kind of point or dick with any of your plans, but I just wanted to show you just how easy it is to make a mistake. This is a little one, but it could have been a gigantic one. I mean, just think if I’d paid him more during the war than you were paying. He’d have worked for you while feeding me all your plans.”

Thaddeus is still scrunched and confused.

”This one’s free of charge, no appointment necessary,” he jokes. ”That’s it. It’s all I got.”

Thaddeus heads to the door and opens it. He goes to step through it but stops and turns around to face his father. ”Dad,” he begins. ”Despite everything that’s happened, I’m still just a son seeking the love and approval of his father.”

He pauses a moment.

”And I do love you.”

Thaddeus closes the door as he leaves. Sebastian sits quietly, thinking about what his son just left him with. It’s a revelation to him, that as different as they look and think, that perhaps they really aren’t all that different. For his first 33 years of his life, that’s all he did, too. Seek the love and approval of his own father, and he never did receive it. Again he feels ashamed, at least partially. While its true that things have happened that can’t be changed, for the first time he looks at things that transpired as business decisions rather than personal ones. For the first time in 3 years he finds himself thinking about Thaddeus as his son rather than his enemy. It isn’t too late for them. Selflessly stepping away from the Illuminatus, which he dedicated his entire life to, to make things easier for Thaddeus says something right? One thing for sure about Sebastian Duke is when he puts his mind to something, there’s nothing that will derail it. With Thaddeus out of the building, he resolves to do one thing his own father never did for him: love him unconditionally.

The soon to be 36 year old father of one, pulls out his cellphone and thumbs through his hundreds of contacts, stopping its scroll at THADDEUS. He clicks to start a new message but hesitates a second, gathering the inner strength to ignore the past, at least for the moment, and secure a path to the future.

”I love you too. Call me this week.”

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Is this how it’s gonna go? Everyone I face is gonna come out and say that I have something to prove, or that the new era is better than the old? Here’s a spoiler alert: I don’t, and it’s not.

I’m not back here in the XWF to prove anything. I’ll say it here, and only here. So, next time, Mr. Wan, I expect you to get a little more creative. I expect you to hit me harder because you put more thought into what you were going to say, rather than showing what we already knew and that’s that you have diarrhea of the mouth. I’m not back to prove anything. I’m here to make you better because neither you, nor anyone else, has the ability to do it yourselves. I’m here to make the House that Duke built, better. I’m here to make the XWF better. And the only way to do that is to put jackasses like you in matches with guys like me. Since I’m the only guy like me that currently exists on this shit show of a roster, I guess I have to face all comers and make it all better all by myself.

It’s a tough job, but somebody gotta do it. I’ve done it before, so here I am for round 2.

Job Ber, yeah… Anyway, suggesting that the current make up of the roster is in any fucking imaginable way better than the make up of the roster this place had when I was just getting started is nothing short of laughable. On any given week when I started, now I realize this part is taboo, and we don’t acknowledge the possibility of a loss, but there were dozens of guys that any given week I could stand face to face with and take the dreaded ‘L’. This roster? Not a chance. If I lose to someone in this shit company as it sits right now, I assure you it’d be a fluke and not to be taken seriously.

If I’m so yesterday’s news and past tense like you’re suggesting Mr. Wan, then why the hell am I winning so fucking much already? I can’t argue the fact that my glory days were years back, but while that is the case please explain to me why I’m poised for the Universal title? It’s because I’m currently winning. I’m currently selling merchandise. I’m currently putting asses back in the seats. I’m currently putting eyeballs back on XWF television. It has nothing to do with what I did 3, 4, or 5 years ago.

I am a big bad wolf, Job Ber Wan. Except, it’s not the fairy tale version your momma told you while you were growin’ up. I’m the kind of guy that kicks ass from bell to bell and whether you fear me or not… and I prefer you don’t… whether you fear me or not, you are going to feel hurt and pain like you have never felt. I’m a big mother fucker and every punch I land or move I execute hurts the victim like a bitch.

You’re ready for me? You’re ready for a fucking legend? Bitch, you’re not even ready for that knock off clone running around the back. I assure you Wan, not only are you not ready for what’s in store at Warfare, you never really will be. It’s not your fault, because very few are.

I like the fact that you aspire to beat me and to be added to my match with Main, but remember one thing, after the bell rings and my hand is raised while you’re lying in a pool of your own fucking blood, that I’m not the one that put you in a position to get your ass thoroughly whipped, beaten, gift wrapped and handed right back to you.

Warfare is my show. It always has been. That’s one thing, that’ll never change.