Day 142 - The Young Ones

 The Young Ones

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Queenie had been busy, arming her men, doubling numbers on patrols, and tasking some of her best to find the gunman and handle it themselves without the Agents. She held private meetings with the other bosses, but made her own plans despite what she agreed to or told them.

She called Ace to her office. Ace had been an Agent himself for over a decade, but retired when he had his son. He had trained five of the current Agents, and there was a good chance that whenever Gideon got around to nominating someone, Ace would be the one to conduct the testing.

“I remember when we used to call you Seven. You were a lot younger then.”

“We were all a lot younger then, but you were still a Queen.”

“The families need protection. The bosses have agreed that the Agents are not enough. I need someone who can make sure my men are in top form.”

Ace was silent.

“You don’t agree? Or you’re upset your son will lose a bit of prestige?”

“I trusted the system for most of my life. I’m sure the bosses don’t want to weaken the foundation that has given us years of peace. My son’s place is secure. I am not afraid for him. He will handle whatever is decided.”

“The system will hold. If the system broke from having a few more armed men, then it’s not a system worth having. Maybe if the Agents worked a little faster, we wouldn’t be in this situation. Regardless, you’re one of the best. Will you train my men?”

“My job is to serve.”

“And my women?”

“If that’s what you want. Give me their names.”

“I’ll send them to your dojo and you can start training them tomorrow.”

Ace nodded and excused himself.

Queenie called in the young one, her grandniece, and explained what was expected.

“Jade, you will train with the men and you will beat them. But more importantly than that, you will train with Agents and you will learn to master their secrets as well.”

Jade nodded in agreement.

“That will be your day. But at night, I have another task I must ask of you. We are very nearly at war, and our family must be ready. I don’t know who will be our allies or our enemies. I will do my best to determine that before the time comes. But I need you to do the same. Starting with The Dragon’s Claw. We may not have the most men, but if we can steal their loyalty, the other families will have reason to fear.”

Day 141 - Outside Looking In

 Outside Looking In

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

During the day she was Kaylee, but at night she was Nina. During the day, Declan was distracted with his new best friend, the Hong Kong, Philippine Anti-Piracy task force, Interpol agent. At night, Nina made sure the men in her new apartment building noticed her and paid attention. Declan worked well with a partner, but apparently not so well as a trio. Nina did her best work alone. Declan and Sonny compared notes and looked at pictures of tattoos and talked about numbers on forearms. The men Nina talked to had tattoos, but none were numbered.

Declan wasn’t sure who she needed to follow, just that he heard rumors of a Dragon Claw Agent living in her building. At night she would walk the streets and follow the men to local bars and restaurants. Often the men would gather at a restaurant called Pan Pan which served a pasta dish called Mafia Chicken. Nothing else about the restaurant was American-Italian themed or related to the “mafia” but there was the one dish. Nina never ate the food, but would drink a glass of wine at the bar, sometimes with a friend, sometimes alone, and watch the men in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar. She wondered if any or all could be the Agents she was looking for.

So far none of the men had bothered her. There was a hotel across the street that looked like the type of place men brought prostitutes to. So far none of the men in her building had gone across the street. Perhaps they were all too focused on work. If they were Agents, then the gunman on the street might be keeping them busy and they didn’t have time for women of any sort.

Kaylee wondered if Declan and Sonny were having better luck that she was. She looked forward to checking in and perhaps getting back to more serious business. If they had a lead on an assassin wearing a numbered tattoo, she wanted in on the job.

One of the men caught her eye – he was younger, more serious, but she was certain he had looked her way once or twice. She had seen him in the building and knew he lived two floors up. She would have to arrange to accidently bump into him sometime.

Day 140 - Rainy Night Blues

Rainy Night Blues

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

It was pouring rain and no matter how much Rama tried to pull himself flat against the wall, he was getting soaked. Bagus had it worse. He was out in parking lot, watching for anyone who wasn’t supposed to be there. Club B was a money maker, even on a night like this, even with the gunman threat still lingering all over town. A town car pulled up and Rikard the driver got out and opened the back door. Four women got out of the back – designer dresses, high heels, and too much makeup. Rama pretended they were dancers and singer hired by the bar to entertain businessmen in the karaoke rooms, but he knew what they really did upstairs. He turned a blind eye. It wasn’t his job and it was one of the many ways Club B made money. Rikard asked Rama for a cigarette, which was absurd on a night like tonight. Rama gave him one and Rikard tried to smoke it while getting drenched.

“Any trouble tonight?”

“No attack if that’s what you mean...”

Rikard nodded.

“…What about you? Anyone every try to stop you and steal your cargo?”

Rikard laughed at the phrase.

“Car is bullet proof. I’m not too worried. Besides, I thought this guy was only robbing drug labs and money launderers.”

“I didn’t know anyone had figured that out.”

“Huh. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Rikard took a final futile drag and flicked the cigarette towards a nearby puddle. He headed inside to watch his precious cargo.

Rama watched the street for signs of any disturbances. He wondered what his bosses were doing to ensure his safety. Police or gang, either, both. These were strange times when he realized he could have been thinking about either one. In a way he was all alone in this mission and he had to watch his own back.

Rama had been looking for a time to sneak off and get word to the police. He wanted to hear their perspective and learn what they knew. He was still living in an apartment with a dozen other soldiers. He had no idea when he would get any privacy again.

Headlights caught his attention as another car pulled up. He was expecting it. The Foreigner and his bosses were supposed to be entertaining an important client tonight. He had heard their names but didn’t know much else – Yaz and Junko. Junko emerged from the car first – a wire thin and androgynous. Hair slicked back and a man’s suit, but Rama wasn’t sure if they were he or she. Junko opened the door and Yaz stepped out. Son of someone fairly connected to the Yakuza, Yaz was flamboyant, hair colored, with preposterous blue sunglasses on. Perfect for a cool rainy night.

They all walked past Rama and his boss barely made eye contact. Something important was happening, and it seemed like his team were the losers. Perhaps Naxis was disappointed, perhaps fear of the gunman had ruined some part of the deal. Either way, it was a bad sign that additional visitors were coming in from overseas.

Rama wished he could sneak inside and try to listen in or find out what was amiss. But Maliq had handed out the assignments and he made sure Rama and Bagus were left out in the rain. Rama pulled up his jacket collar and took a deep breath. It was going to be a long night.

Day 139 - Paradise Lost

 Paradise Lost

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

66 never wanted to be a drug dealer. When he was young, he never imagined he would become a killer, but that had happened too. If 66 knew one thing, it was that wants and dreams seldom had anything to do with outcomes. He had come to Jakarta to escape trouble in Bandung, only to find himself in over his head once again. 47 was a reliable sort of guy, same routines, same jokes, same stories. Low drama, if you were okay with the same.

Paradise was a party drug, but there was another mix the gang was working on. An amphetamine that supposedly gave the user a burst of strength and energy to go along with his euphoria. Perfect for going into a berserker rage in battle if you didn’t want to feel any pain. 66 wasn’t that sort of fighter, he preferred his wits and wisdom and would take his skill and precision over someone else’s fury and rage. He had no need to taste the drug, but more importantly he had no desire to test his abilities against someone using. It was one thing to trust yourself, it was another to risk your life on it. 47 swore by it, but 66 had so far avoided both mixes.

66 was introduced to 47’s bosses. Von was the head of the cartel. He was wheelchair bound, but had his own army of doctors administering experimental treatments. He was supposedly the first one to try the latest batch of Paradise, and if rumors were true, it allowed him the ability to ignore his pain long enough to stand up. 66 couldn’t imagine risking his life on new experimental drugs, but he also couldn’t imagine what it would be like living in a chair. He supposed at a certain point it was worth the risk.

Kimi was a chemist that 47 had clearly slept with or was sleeping with or was trying to sleep with. 66 could see the desire in his eyes and in the playful way Kimi glanced back. Maybe they thought they were keeping it a secret. Maybe they were. Von didn’t seem to notice. It was still a bad idea, thought 66. A slip in judgement, mistakes made, and then they could both end up dead. But that wasn’t 66’s problem.

Business was good, and some of his worries were assuaged. It seemed as though Von was paying tribute to one of the families that ran Jakarta. As long as they didn’t attract the attention of the police, things should be okay.

But then the crazy gunman started shooting up the town. 66 and 47 were no longer guarding shipments and dealers, but were given a hunt and kill task.

“Just like old times…”

66 nodded in agreement, although he was slightly less thrilled than 47 was. Despite his best efforts, the old skills were back in style.

Day 138 - Wrong Time Right City

 Wrong Time Right City

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

Sonny had come to Jakarta at the wrong time. The city was in crisis. There was a gunman loose on the streets and the police were fully focused on that. Tattoos in Bandung that connected to a now defunct Jakarta gang meant very little to their current emergency. The Reavers had been street thugs, collecting ransom money from neighborhood stores, but they weren’t killers like this.

Sonny asked around about Vic from the pirate task force, but he was either undercover or back at sea or any of the old timers that knew him were gone. It had been over ten years, so some turnover was to be expected. But it threw Sonny when he thought about it. He knew it, but hadn’t fully realized it. Ten years was a million criminals ago. What had once been black stubble was mostly silver and white not. Where the time had went, Sonny didn’t know, but there were times he barely recognized himself in the mirror.

He called an old contact at Interpol and start the process of tracking Vic down. But that could take days or weeks. And it was a long shot at best that he would not only remember a pirate tattoo from back then, but also know anything about his current whereabouts.

Sonny thought it might be time to head back to Bandung and see how the investigation was going there. The police were tracking down all of Quer and Amer’s financials, and it seemed more and more like there were clear signs of embezzlement, fraud and money laundering. Sonny preferred to be in the field, and looking at spreadsheets and numbers all day made his head hurt, but as far as clues went, this was an obvious direction with obvious connections and implications. Bank accounts and routing numbers would tell the tale and might link him to viable suspects for the murders.

Sonny thanked the police captain for his help and was about to report the transfer to his supervisors, when word came in about a partial tattoo on the arm of the shotgun killer.

The number two.

Sonny studied the report and compared it to the pictures he had of thirty-three. He was sure the styles were a match. Some officer on the other side of town named Declan had started his own investigation into the tattoos.

Sonny decided he needed to report to his supervisors, but tell them about a slightly different transfer. He might need to circle back to Bandung, but right now, even with the city on lockdown, he had to follow up with Declan and figure out if there were any connections.

Day 137 - Rain Delay

 Rain Delay

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

It had rained for two days in a row, which allowed for a slight reprieve from the violence of the gunman’s reign. Two days was nothing, but after two weeks of violence it felt an eternity. Seven knew he had plenty of work to do. There was the gunman. Or gunmen depending on who you asked. And there was the mystery of who killed Nine and the promises Seven had made Gideon. Seven had plenty to do. But his mind was elsewhere, distracted by Kira, a woman who had moved into a downstairs apartment. He normally wasn’t distracted by such things, but something had caught his eye and he couldn’t look away.

Day 136 - Short Story about Death by Gun

 Short Story about Death by Gun

 Matthew Ryan Fischer

 

“He just walked in and started shooting…”

“And where were you?”

“I was in the back.”

“But you heard the gunshots.”

“Of course. And we checked the monitors. He never stopped walking. Just headed for the backroom door like he knew we were in there. Cashier was dead by that point as well as some local customers. But the gunman was a man on a mission. He was coming for us and what we got.”

Queenie had already heard the story thrice before. Once from her men who first investigated the shooting, then again when they brought the pit boss to her, then again when the Dragon’s Claw arrived. Three was questioning him for the benefit of the other bosses, but it was unlikely there would be any new details.

“Everything was chaos. You have to understand. Everybody heard the shots. Everybody knew the stories. The past ten days, you know? Word gets around. It was hard enough to get people to work, but they all had the jitters and were right on edge all day. That first shot went off, and there was no controlling them. Everybody started running in all directions, looking for a way out.”

“But you had guards.”

“Of course. There’s really only the one way in and out, as far as the workers know. That’s to stop them from being tempted to steal. But now it was their death sentence. To get out they had to head for the shooter. It’s not like there’s anywhere to really hide anyway. You’ve got the money counters and runners in one room, but what are they gonna do? Hide behind a cart? Use a briefcase to fight back? Then there’s the lab, but that’s a clean room and built so there’s nowhere to hide anything – again to discourage theft. So, everybody is freaking out and they’re the ones blocking the guards from getting anywhere close to the door where they might actually do some good. All the while we’re all hearing the shots as this guy makes his way down the hallway. Bang. Bang. Bang. Maybe he was wearing body armor or maybe he’s the luckiest son of a bitch, but for all the shots going back and forth, all they did was keep getting closer. Man on a mission.”

“And what did you do?”

“I got the fuck out of there. Down the secret door in my office. I grabbed one briefcase of product and one of cash and I brought it back here. You should be thanking me that I got anything out. You can count it, both were full. Two hands, two briefcases. I didn’t skim nothing.”

“But you had a gun.”

“Of course, I had a gun. But I told you, the guards were fucked and the lab rats were fucked. That gunman was coming and everybody was just getting in each other’s way. If there had been any time to organize anything, maybe, but all that chaos? Everybody was getting shot down.”

Queenie turned the volume down on her monitor and looked around the room at the other bosses. Their faces were mixed, some better at hiding their fear or concern. Eight men and one woman and she was the calmest of the bunch and it was her outfit that had been hit.

“So, gentlemen, satisfied?”

Some nodded. Others withheld judgement.

“And you want to arm soldiers outside the Dragon’s Claw to handle this?” asked Gideon. “A dangerous precedent, isn’t it? A crack in the agreement that has led to years of peace and prosperity?”

“Where is the peace and prosperity when we are being attacked continuously?”

“The Dragon’s Claw has always been able to handle such threats before.”

“Before? Who cares about before? What about now? They’ve done nothing about the man with the shotgun for nearly two weeks. And now this? He’s inspiring other descent. We look weak. Every attack encourages another.”

“You think this is an additional enemy? Not the same man?”

“Did you hear a shotgun mentioned in his story? Of course, it’s a different man. Gentlemen, we must do something. My family requires it. If the Dragon’s Claw can’t keep the peace, and the families can’t keep the peace, then what good are any of our agreements? My family demands peace and I will give it to them.”

The men looked back and forth, the fear creeping in. They all knew her family wasn’t the strongest, and yet they were scared. Determination and grit, that was something her mother had taught her. Talk big, act bigger. Men with might who were afraid to use it were easily toppled.

The men whispered, but she knew she had them when she saw Gideon nodding. If their fear convinced him, he wouldn’t waste an opportunity. He was just like she was. But what his goal would be, she still wasn’t sure. Still, with him in agreement, her strength could grow. She just had to make sure his didn’t surpass hers.