Vengeance by Jarkko Sipila Page A

all brothers. If that weren’t true, none of us would be here. If anyone feels otherwise, then now is the time to leave.”
         His bald, tattooed head glistening, the vice president scanned his throng of toughs. Nobody moved.
         “There you have it. No hesitations, no sideward glances. That is how the Skulls operate. Each of us is an individual, but the individuals constitute one brotherhood. Trust is our cornerstone. Together, we are what we are.”
         He had mulled over this speech many nights in his cell. There, it had seemed perfect, but now he questioned whether it was too sentimental.
         The men’s eyes were riveted on Larsson. Good, at least nobody was laughing. If someone had even dared smile, Niko would have slammed the guy to the floor and put a boot through his teeth.
         “This is not news to you, but I want to talk about it because it’s important. Each of you is my brother. That means that even if my life is going to hell, I can still be happy about your successes. There is no envy amongst us.”
         Larsson held another pause then continued. “It means that no matter how hungry I am, you’ll always get half my food. If someone needs money, I’ll give half my own. If someone hits you, I’ll hit him back—no questions asked. If someone steals from you, I’ll beat the shithead to the ground. There is no right and wrong, only brotherhood. I am ready to die for any of you. And you should be ready to do the same.”
         “We have plenty of dead heroes, and there will be more. The S.W.A.T team shot Korpela just last year. Kahma and Jyrkkä suffered the same fate a few years earlier. They acted on our behalf without thinking of themselves and fearing nothing. Brotherhood always took precedence. They thought about us. Each of you must be ready for anything.”
         “Do you understand?” Larsson asked, nearly shouting.
         They all nodded emphatically.
         “Ready for anything. That’s not an easy task. If you’re in a situation, think about Korpela, Kahma and Jyrkkä. Korpela was taking care of the firm’s business when a traitor ratted him out to the cops. He took one with him.”
         “Kahma and Jyrkkä were in the same boat. Prison or death were their alternatives. They weren’t afraid of the decision. We must honor that.”
         Larsson couldn’t take this any further, since he himself had been in the same situation a year and a half ago. A gun in his hand, he had stared down the barrel of a S.W.A.T officer’s submachine gun. He could have raised his weapon and gone the way of Korpela, Kahma and Jyrkkä, but chose prison by dropping his piece. That was then. No longer would he be subdued.
         “If one of us is locked up, we’ll take care of his wife and children. If his family doesn’t have money for rent, food or kids’ hockey, we’ll help. The brother in prison would do the same for you.”
         “There will be no lies among us. If you fuck up, take the responsibility, and don’t pass it to a brother. We will not steal from each other. No empty promises—keep your word. If you have a dispute with a brother that can’t be settled otherwise, bring it to me. Nobody will talk to the cops, under any circumstances.”
         “Any questions?” Larsson asked before continuing.
         Nobody spoke. Larsson scanned from one man to the next, his gaze resting on each man long enough for them to feel it.
         “If we stick to these principles, things will go well. Now for a few announcements,” Larsson said in a more relaxed voice.
         “Our president is doing life in Turku. If you happen to be going that way, make sure to drop by. From experience, I can tell you that the place is dull as hell. The inmates are pent up in tiny cells and friends are few and far between. But if you do go there, keep it clean—all conversations are recorded, and, of course, wind up with the pigs.”