NationStates Jolt Archive

*Warning, mature content*

Manhattan Beach, Los Angeles

The Summer sun beat down mercilessly on the City of Angels. The expressways and streets baked while vehicles and people traveled over them. Traffic clogged the streets as citizens went about their normal routine. Off Highland Avenue sat a convenience store named ROSCOE's. It was owned by an older man named Roscoe Watters. He owned and operated the store for over twenty years and saw first hand, the effects of time upon the city and the people within it. His store was looted during the LA riots and he was robbed three times in his life. It was a hrad neighborhood but Roscoe remained, a testament to determination. A story of strong will and saddness as he saw the influx of drugs and gang violence which plagued his neighborhood.

Across the street was dirty Ford Explorer. In the front passenger sat a man in his early thirties with an athletic build and long black sideburns. There was one other person in the vehicle. In his lap was a portable screen which showed a picture from the alley behind ROSCOE'S. The man in the passenger seat was Danny Mercer, a member of the narcotics squad for the LAPD, a veteran member of the force. He watched as the picture jostled around.
"Try to keep it steady" he said into a microphone. On the other end was Marcus Greene, another member of the narc squad. He was a stocky black man in his late twenties and has prior affilitaions with the local gangs. He rounded the corner and tried to adjust the camera in his pocket. Opposite him was a drug dealer, a local no name who was eager to make a name for himself and believed he was the drug lord. Mercer leaned in on the screen to watch.
"What's happenin'?" Greene asked, walking up nonchalant, keeping his distance.
"Nuthin' dawg" the man replied, not making eye contact but rather watching the surroundings.
"I ned some stuff, man" Greene asked. The dealer looked at him for a moment then nodded.
"I got just the stuff" he approached Greene and quickly handed him a packet of crack while Green slipped him some dollar bills in the other hand. The two paused then parted their seperate ways. Greene walked out the alley and brought his hand up to his mouth.
"You get that, Danny?" Greene asked, walking briskly. Mercer and the other officer were already out of the car and in a dead sprint to corner the dealer. They rounded a corner and rushed past Greene who looked back. The dealer looked back and saw them and quickly ran down an alley.
"Stop, police!!" Mercer exclaimed, his legs pumping adrenaline as he hopped over a fence in persuit. The chase winded through alleis and yards as the dealer made a hard effort not to be caught. He ran for his life, for his freedom as the police enroached further. Finally, a tall chain link fence blocked him. Sweat rolled down his forehead as he desperatley searched for an escape route. Seeing none, he decided to climb; however, two strong hand seized his white t-shirt and ripped him from the fence, throwing him violently to the ground.
"I told you to stop, asshole!" Mercer barked as his boot impacted the man's ribcage. The other officer drew his firearm from his hip holster as Mercer cuffed and searched him. There were several more bags of crack and a roll of money. This was a small time bust, there were bigger fish out there to catch.

Later that day the narcotics team sat around in the small lounge utilized by them. It was in the upstairs corner and secluded from the other offices and the desks below. Inside was a table with several chairs, a desk and a whiteboard with file cabinets lining the wall with books and manuals on top of them. On the wall was a dart board and a police target. Mercer entered the room which on the outside door read "The Dog House". An affectionate name given to it by the other patrol officers. He wore blue jeans with boots and a white t0shirt with a blue striped button up over it. His face was rough from going a week without shaving. He was a strong man with equally strong eyes, like a predator. He was well liked and respected, despite his less than legal tactics. On the white board were several photos as well as some writing below them and lines connecting them.
"It was a good bust today" Mercer began as he closed the door behind him. The others quieted down and listened up. "However, it was just some punk looking to break out into the big show. The litte prick wouldn't shut the fuck up the entire time. I guess he thinks he's the big shot around here." there was a low snicker amoungst the team.
"Was he connected to Duke?" asked Greene who leaned up against a filing cabinet.
"Sadly, no" Mercer sighed. "He was just a punk, a corner kid. No, I grilled him for a good hour, he never even heard of Duke. One of these bastards out there has to be directly linked to Duke. We just have to keep trying. We'll use th rat brigade to rat him out"
"They're loyal to him, Danny" Greene countered. "They have massive amounts of respect."
"True, The Royals won't be easy to tear down nor Duke. But we've done tough cases before." he pointed to the top photo of a man named Darius "Duke" Williams. The enegmatic leader of The Royals, a heavy hitting gang from Manhattan Beach. It was a tough fight ahead of them.

Sign-Up Thread:

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=12848337&posted=1#post12848337

2:30 AM, Motel 6 in Inglewood

Three men stood in the dimly lit parking lot, exchanging various handshakes. They got down to business and began to trade their dirty wares, two men paying the third for what looked to be coke.

Meanwhile, about 50 yards down the street by a Mercedes, two men stood, resting their rifles on the hood of the car in the dark patch of street.

"Are these the ones that the Principle payed for?" asked a well-dressed black man.

"Da," replied the Serb next to him, adjusting the scope on his VSS Vintorez. "He requested we get the dealer as a primary and the other two bastards as an added bonus."

"Well then, let's get to bidness." said the black guy.

The Serb, Petrov Nikanor, held his breath and fired. The 5.56 round silently burped out of the rifle, penetrating the dealer's forehead above his right eye, spinning him backwards and causing him to land on the ground. The other two began to dip out, but the hit team was already on them. Petrov took out another with two hits to the center mass.

"Get a move on!" yelled the black guy as he got into the Benz and kicked up the engine. Petrov picked up the three shell casing and jumped in as they sped up the street.

The third guy had made it into an alley in the motel and hid behind a dumpster. Taking out his cell phone, he dialed quickly and called a fellow gang member.

"Wudup?" came a voice on the other line.

"Yo, Rico! Shit's going down man! Jules and T-Bone are down!" said the third guy in a scared voice.

"Fuck! Yo, Smoke, chust chill out man! I got boys ready to roll and pick you up, aight? Where you at?"

"Uh, I'm at that Motel 6 in Inglewood. Hurry up, bro, I think they're..."

That was the last Rico heard from Smoke. A groan followed by a slitting noise came over the line before a long beep took over.

Back at the dumpster, Petrov had slit Smoke's throat, then cleaned the blade on the thug's shirt and threw him in the dumpster he used for refuge. Another hit well done.

Undisclosed House in Los Angeles

At the end of the street was a rotunda, lined by house, one of them was a two story, descent sized house with a front porch and steps leading down to a walkway. The outside was plain with old blue paint which began to chip away. Inside, however; was a different story. The interior of the house was nice with a plasma screen TV in the living room with leather couches. On a wall was a long bookcase with a large collection vinyl albums. The carpet was new and the standards elsewhere were quite comfortable around the house. In the kitchen stood a tall black man with a lean but strong build. His hair was short and a trimmed beard. He wore a silver chain around his neck with several tattoos on his arms, chest, and back. He wore a white sleevless under shirt and blue jeans. He was washing dishes and setting them to dry when the phone rang. He grunted and set the dish down and dried his hands off before moving into the living room. Once there, he reached in his coat pocket and produced a simple blcak cell phone and flipped it open.
"Yes?" he asked, standing back up.
"Duke, listen here, dawg. One of our crew got pinched today." said a hurried voice on the other end.
"Calm down, Dee" Darius "Duke" Williams said as he moved upstairs into his bedroom. "Which one of our boyz was it?"
"Just some new kid, don't even know his name or nuthin'. Just thought I'd let ya know, man"
"Aight, spread the word dat we need to keep down a little, but not too much. We got a good momentum goin' on here and can't afford to look weak. Later, dawg" Duke hung up and put the phone in a drawer. The police were becoming a nusence.

Garden Grove, Los Angeles

After a long yet exciting day at the precinct, Mercer took the drive home to his area of Garden Grove. It was a descent neighborhood, compared to the others in LA. The sun drifted lazily downwards off in the distance as his car winded down city streets, past people going about their evenings. It was a descent drive to get from work to home but he preferred to keep his family safe from the problems of the inner city, which were slowly spreading outwards. Finally, he turned his car off onto a driveway and parked it. The house was a two story, two bedroom home, descent in size and modest in appearance. It was six in the evening and a saturday so his six year old daughter, Angela didn't have school and he could hear her in the backyard screaming and giggling with her other friends. A smile came across his face as he stepped out of the vehicle and approached the door. It was a peaceful neighborhood, one he enjoyed living in.

Inside, he set down his backpack and went into the bedroom, opened the closet and took out a metal safebox from the top shelf which was pushed back. He had to get on his tippy toes to reach it everytime. He ste it on the bed and pressed down a secret number and the lid opened. He took his pistol from his hip holster along with his extra magazines inside and then removed the .38 from his ankle holster and placed it in there as well. He locked the box and placed it back on the shefl and slid it all the way to the back until he heard the thud from it hitting the wall. He closed the closet and turned around to see his wife, Elena standing, arms folded, a scowl on her face. Elena was born in San Fransisco to a mixed couple, her mother being Mexican. She was beautiful with medium black hair and darkn skin with green eyes. Elena worked as a teacher in the local high school where she's been for only three years, teaching English.
"Ola, mi bonita" Mercer said in bad Spanish. Elena laughed and wrapped her slender arms around her husband and they kissed.
"Ola mi estupido" she replied in perfect Spanish. "You're...starting to improve, Danny" she winked and walked out of the room and towards the kitchen where she was preparing dinner.
"How was work?" Mercer asked as he followed her into the kitchen.
"Good, some of my students are having difficulties in figuring out how to read Shakespeare. It's quite amusing" Elena replied as she stirred some soup. Elena paused, searching for what she was going to say next.
"And yours?" she finally asked. She tried not to think about her husbands job, knowing full well how dangerous it was. She knew the risks of being married to a cop, but she married one nonetheless.
"It was interesting and differents, like most days. People never fail to amaze me" he replied with a smile. It was almost time for dinner...

2:56 AM, Inglewood

The Black Mercedes drove camly down the street. Four were in the car, Petrov, Travis, the black guy from before, and two fellow members picked up after the hit, Sergei and Mikhail. They had one more thing to do tonight, then they could finally go home and sleep.

The Benz pulled up into a driveway of a run-down apartment. Graffiti of a gang was sprayed all over the walls, marking their territory.

"Okay," said Petrov. "This "gangsta" Tiny has been ducking us for about a week now. He owes us at least 5k, maybe more, and we need it back. He might have a crew in here, so keep an eye out. I'll talk."

"Aight." said Travis, cocking his ICQB's slide back.

The four men got out of the car and produced their weapons. Petrov had a Zastava M21, Travis had his ICQB .45, Mikhail had a shotened Saiga-12 and Sergei had a AK-74SU. Thye walked up to the front door and tried to open it up. Seeing it was locked, Travis ran at it and kicked it open, swinging the door into a cracked-out addict on the ground, knocking him out. The lobby was dimly lit, and addicts were everywhere.

"Well, what now?" asked Sergei. He didn't like these places at all.

"He is on the top floor." said Petrov walking to the stairs. An addict on the ground started tugging on Sergei's pantleg, mumbling for money or crack or something. Sergei sweeped his leg around in a Chuck Norris-esque roundhouse kick and knocked him over, sprawled across the floor. A loud bang and crash was heard from the upstairs floor, followed by footsteps towards the side of the house.

"The fucker is running!" shouted Mikhail as he ran up the stairs. The others followed, rushing up the flight as fast as they could. At the top, two gang members confronted them with blades drawn and stood in a defensive manner. Mikhail shot the shotgun once, sending the buckshot wall at the gangstas knocking them to the floor, hurt, but not dead. They ran through the open door and saw Tiny jump off the fire escape and run to a Cadillac parked on the street.

"Don't let him get away!" shouted Petrov as he started shooting at the fleeing crack dealer. The other three ran downstairs to the Benz while Petrov finished the clip, inserted a new one, and climbed out the fire escape to the ground. As soon as he made it to the car, they saw that Tiny had already started down the street in an attempt to escape. Travis started up the Benz, gunned the engine, and sped down the street close behind Tiny.

OOC: It would be cool to have some detectives to pick up the case.

Dormitory

Jill Redfield a 23 Beautiful woman was sitting on her bed in her room doing class work when her room's door open's and close

"hard at work i see"said a Voice
"why are you not at work"ask Jill looking up from her work at her boyfriend Stone Winter 24 who was a member of a SWAT team

"came to pick you up for work and yes i'm early"said Stone as he sits next to her
"thanks"said Jill then kissed him on the lips

Los Feliz, Los Angeles, California

A dark green Ford sedan, with the Pizza Hut logo painted on the side, slowly cruised through the streets of Hollywood Hills, finally stopping in front of a modest, though still highly expensive, estate. The house was of medium size, with ivy climbing on the brick exterior and an iron wrought gate in front of the house.

A man, clad in a red jacket and sunglasses, exited the car holding a small, slim pizza box. Briskly walking to the microphone mounted next to the gate, the man depressed the button.

"Uh...Ms Sally Field?" he asked.

"Yeah, this is her place," a gruff, deep male voice. "What'dya want?"

"I've got a pizza for her. A large Supreme, side order of buffalo wings with ranch dressing."

"Look, she don't order pizza. We've got an in-house chef."

"Dude, I can't just leave this pizza. I was given this address. Just send her out here so I can sort this out."

The voice did not reply, but the wooden door of the house swung open to reveal Sally Field striding towards the gate. The gate slid to the side.

"Hi, how can I help you?" she asked.

"Er, evening, ma'am. I've got a pizza to deliver to this address, but the guard won't let me," the man said, almost nervously.

"Hmm...I don't recall ordering one," Sally replied.

"I'll get the order form," the man said. He turned around, nodded to the other man in the car, and opened the box, which, instead of a supreme pizza, had a fully-loaded AK-103 assault rifle. As he turned around, the other man leveled his assault rifle, aiming it precisely at the actresses' chest. The first man also aimed his gun at Field, smiling maliciously.

"Bitch, you haven't paid your dues to Don Alebrandi," he laughed. She nearly fell to the ground in amazement.

"Look, look, I'll pay the money, I'll pay, I swear!" she begged.

"You've had months. Who do you think got your fucking role on that new show of yours? The don," replied the second. "And, as our way of giving you a late fee, we've decided to give you a little lead something." The second man shot Sally in the leg with a ten-round burst. She screamed out in pain.

"Pay by tomorrow," commanded the first. "Or you'll get the same thing - right through your stupid fucking head."

The car sped off quickly.

Maywood, Angel’s Tavern


Derek Hooker the High Commander of the West Coast Militia was having a sit down with his Chapter Masters over the drug problem that was escalating in the neighborhood. The black street gangs had been increasing their efforts in infiltrating inside the Militia’s turf pushing their addictive dope on white kids. Derek smirked as all five of his senior members were present and they all had the same determined look as their leader.

The Militia had run their turf effectively for the six years they had been active but the negro and the hispanic gangs had been stepping up their efforts in trying to bring down the white race with their sleazy women and their highly addictive drugs that were gaining them the money and guns they needed to fight each other and the Militia for territory.

Derek had called this meeting at the Angel’s Tavern the official headquarters of the gang to give the order to begin hitting the dealers of the local Royals gang that had been starting to come onto the Militia’s streets with little to no interference.


This was because Derek feared that the Royals would have more money, more numbers, and better guns, on their side should a turf war erupt but now that the Militia had been getting into arms market they were making a nice profit and starting to get some great hardware like AK-47’s and Uzi submachine guns from their contacts in the A.B.

It only made sense to begin reinforcing their turf now that the Militia had the firepower and the money to combat their foe on more or less equal terms. The meeting was over after the second round of drinks and the orders were sent down from the High Command.

************************************************************************


Compton, anonymous neighborhood..


A group of Militia dressed in traditional Army Cameo clothing started patrolling a local neighborhood that had been annexed by the West Coast Militia. The patrol took notice of a shady ****** that was selling his dope to children in the park. It was obvious that this guy was a member of the Royals and the word from on high was to send the Royals a message about messing with the white race.

The loud rock in roll music blazed as the approaching muscle car halted near the end of the street and the crew of five Militia soldiers got out of the vehicle carrying weapons from baseball bats to chains and one of them had a switchblade.

This group of thugs dressed like soldier wanabes charged the dealer screaming in unison, “White Power!” as they attacked in a unified group against the outnumbered African American dealer. The dealer was hit and struck repeatedly until he was on the ground being hit with bats and kicked in the stomach and back multiple times. The switchblade was also used to stab him several times in the back.

The captain in charge of the attack wielding the deadly switchblade yelled at his weakened target, “You fu***** n*gg** got was coming to you for selling dope to white children you piece of fu***** Sh**!!!”


This attack was in the open for all the local people to see, It was a political confrontation to convey a message to the Royals that the Militia was not going to allow drug dealer on their turf…

It was later in the day when the special phone in Duke's jacket pocket rag off while he walked to the local park. It was a slow day on the streets, few people and few cars rolling around. It was quiet and almost peaceful. He flipped open the cell, without responding.
"Yo Duke, some crazy white mutherfuckas rolled up and beat one of our guys till he was almost dead!" shouted a frantic Dee who was already in the park with three other members of their crew.
"Where is he now?" Duke asked as he quickened his stride.
"He's up in the hospital now, man. All the while these crackas were shouting off some 'white power' bullshit!"
"Aight, I'll be in the park in a few minutes" Duke ended the conversation and strided towards the park. There were children playing and ever cautious parents watching them like hawks. Several saw Duke rush by but didn't give it a second thought. Since Williams took over The Royals, he began a series of new ''policies'' dictating the course of actions by the gang. While his gang gained momentum he also managed to keep the streets of Compton and Long Beach relatively quite. Seeing how the Crips and Bloods were weakened by years of fighitng, The Royals moved in and now most of the power in Compton and Long Beach rested with them. He created a positive image for himself by being the neighborhood protector and frequently donated money to charaties and to schools, a way of getting the population off his back. Of course, this incident could change all of that as he approached the group.

Meanwhile...

Mercer returned to the precinct the next day, a tad late but he didn't care what anyone had to say. He stepped out of the car and breezed up the ramp, apst several uniformed officers who were escorting a drag queen in who was kicking and screaming so much his fake long hair fell off to everyone's amusement. Inside it was organized chaos. He signed in at the Desk Sargent and walked past the secured door into the main area where the operations and administration's departments worked. People shuffled around desks, weaving in and out carrying boxes of files as the detectives worked furiously at their desks. Upstairs in The Dog House, Mercer met with the other members of the narcotics team. He recieved the call earlier about the violence in Compton.
"It looks like those ignorant skin headed pricks are up in arms" he said to them as he moved about the room. "They rolled up into Compton and wailed on some dealer, a Royal" there was a pause.
"Skinheads entered Compton?" Greene asked as he sat up in the chair. "That's some bold shit"
"That and stupid. We'll be rolling out in a few minutes" Mercer instructed and they all stood up, ready for another great day at work.

The Militia thugs were still listening to their blazing music in their muscle car about a few yards from the public beating. The Militia had left the dealer alive to let him send the message and to get the Royals attention not get them blood lusted for revenge. The squad that instigated the beating had stayed in the park but moved to the other side of it to allow the Royals to send their guys to have a little sit down or shoot out...


The skin heads looked like a literal army of young white males between the ages of 16-20 wearing army cameo shirts and cameo paints with cameo bandanas serving as swastika armbands. Inside their vehicle they had an assortment of various weapons ranging from baseball bats on the floor to the AK-47s inside the trunk. They were all talking and jeering about the ****** they struck like the pig he was. It was obvious these guys had little to no respect for the black community because they threatened any African American that came within sight distance of them.


The Captain of this squad noticed Duke approaching and inquired gruffly, "You got a problem ni**er?"

OOC: Duke is not at a gas station. He's in a park in Compton with some of his crew.

Sunset Bar

Jill was cleaning a glass when on the TV a new flash came on

i'm John Waters and we have breaking news of a drug bust that has gone wrong and go live to the scene with Mary Rose

Reporter behind a Car

"thank you John behind me on the road are two Police officers who are wound and pin down by gun fire from the warehouse, hung on something going on to my left "

the Cameraman pans to the left

"it looks like Swat about to go in and pull the two Police officers out of there "

Swat

six man two holding ballistic shields and four behind them move from cover and start to move toward the down Police officers

"shit"said one of the man holding the ballistic shields as AK rounds hit them
"easy now nearly there"said Stone


Bar

"hey Jill is not your boyfriend Swat"ask one of the ladys who works with her
"yes "said Jill watching


Swat

"ok Jack covering fire now"said Stone stepping out and opening with his M4 as Jack open up with his

the two Swat member holding the shield moved to cover the down officers and the other two Swat members as they picked them up

"ok got them them pulling back"

"right"said Stone still given covering fire and falling back with them

"arr" Yelled Jack as he takes a round to his leg

"shit Jack is Down"said Stone looking to his right

"shit sending someone to help"

"no i'll get him"said Stone who was moving towards Jack as he fired

"shit man this sucks"said Jack to Stone when he got to him
"got to pull you Jack"said Stone as he take a strap in a hand
"do what you have too"said Jack

Bar

"thats him pulling that down Swat member"said Jill still watching and cleaning glass's
"how you know"asked the same lady
"something i saw "said Jill

The Harbinger of Truth, Raymond's Supercomputer Enclave, South Gate

Journal Entry 2370,

Progress: outstanding. The Harbinger ha shown me readings that when translated show that now, utilizing life's number, I am almost complete on my path to enlightenment...and also to understand why mother and father had to go.

Truth has showed me that I must search for a man, but not just any man. His name, age and adress all add up to Life's Number. After a major query of the data network, I came up with my man. Bob Fake, Age 42, Address 787992 Woodlawn Court. He is the first step in the answer, and the first step to Truth.

Raymond adorned his coat, snatched up his 42oz knife, and got into his '84 Toyota Tercel and started the car. He adorned his glasses, shook his head, and then sped off down the road towards his undeniable fate.

Ooc: Tag

3:08 AM, Inglewood

The Black Mercedes-Benz CLS550 sped down the road behind the Cadillac, screeching hard around tight turns as Tiny tried to avoid the Russo-Serbian collection squad.

"I've had it with this horse shit!" yelled Petrov. He leaned up and stood through the sunroof, resting his bipod on the top of the car. "Motherfuckers!" he yelled as he began to fire off bursts at the Caddy, shots impacting the back of the car and other cars on the street as well.

Up in the Caddy, Tiny had two of his boys lean out the windows and fight back, returning fire with Tec-9 Machine Pistols. The bullets flew up by the Benz, making Petrov duck back into the car as the 9mm rounds flew everywhere. When the thugs were realoading, Petrov and Sergei returned fire, their automatic weapons cracking noisily through the night air.

Tiny threw the car into a tight right, smashing through a mailbox and cutting through a yard and a few fences. He emerged on a dirt field and sped towards the highway. Travis drove the Benz the same way, following the Caddy and gaining speed.

"Get alongside him!" shouted Mikhail to Travis. Travis nodded, and kicked the car into overdrive. The Benz sped up next to the Caddy, much to the surprise of the thugs with Tiny. One of them reached out the window with a gat pointed at Mikhail's open window, but he was countered by Mikhail grabbing his hand, wrenching him out far enough so the thug's hand was in the Benz, bashed the gat out of his hand and snatched it up. The thug tried to get back in the Benz but Mikhail was too fast, shooting the gangsta in the hand, causing him to lose his grip and fall out of the Caddy onto the pavement below. At the speed they were moving at, it was doubtful he would livea headfirst landing like that, but hey, it can happen?

Travis then tapped the brake, then swung the Benz into a hard right, smashing into the Caddy and sending it spinning out into a chain-link fence. The Benz came to a halt and all of the colloectors got out and ran to the Caddy. One thug was out of the car vomiting on the ground while another was knocked out in the front seat. Tiny had gotten out of the car and was running when the crack of an assault rifle rung out and he fell to the ground.

The four approached him, guns drawn, and snatched him up. He had been shot in the ankles and was merely knocked out of running condition, far from dead.

"Ay!" he shouted. "Get the fuck off me, cracka! I'll whip yo head so..."

"Shut the fuck up!" screamed Petrov as he bashed Tiny in the stomach with the butt of his Zastava M21. "Throw this piece of shit in the trunk."

Mikhail and Sergei bound his legs, arms, and removed one of Tiny's dirty socks and shoved it in his mouth, duct-taping it shut. He was deposited in the trunk with a thud while the four got into the Benz.

"What are we going to do with him?" asked Travis

"We're going to take him to One Man's Trash (pawn shop), throw him in the basement, then me and Vlad are going to go Medieval on his ass with a plyers and a blow torch unless that rat tells us where our money is." replied Petrov.

"Sounds like a plan." chuckled Travis as he turned on the car and drove onto the highay towards One Man's Trash.

Reporter

"the Shooting has stop and a Swat strike team "

Boom as a explosion of flames rip out from the warehouse in a violent manner and sending debris into the air and senting off alarms

TV station

"oh my god" said John Waters who was watching one of the Monitors in front of him

Bar

"noooo"screams Jill as she falls to her knees
"shit help her"said the owner who came in mins ago and was told what was going on

Sniper team A and B

"shit the whole strike team just been taken out"said Sniper A
"fucking hell"said Spotter A

"holly shit gone all of them"said Sniper B
"dam'it bloody hell"said Spotter B

Inside warehouse before explosion

"hey i got something" said one of the strike team over the radio

"so do i"said Stone over the radio as he looks into a tunnel

Boom the explosion pushs Stone into the tunnel sending debris in behind him and partly covering the open trapdoor

before Stone blacks out the linkin park Figure.09 song starts to play in his mind

Hospital

a Police officer walks into Jacks room

"your a strike member of one of Swat teams called out to the drug bust that went wrong right"ask the Officer

"yes why"ask Jack with a puzzled look on his face as his Wife hold his hand

"your the only one left alive a explosion has taken out both strike teams out in one go"said the Officer with a sad look to his face

"what nooo"said a shocked Jack

It was an unbelieveable sight, Duke struggled to see what was happening. The skinheads were marching down the park like this was a war, past the children, mean mugging everyone they saw. Most of the parents grabbed their children and left. One of Duke's boys reached inside his jacket but Duke raised a hand and seized the man's arm before he could pull out the pistol.
"No" Duke whispered as he stood up. There were about six other guys with him at the time. The militia approached rapidly and Duke made several advances towards them. The comment made by the leader of the group nearly sent Duke into a rage but he managed to steel himself, knowing he couldn't afford a fight in broad daylight.
"You seem to be the one with a problem" Duke said in a flat, even tone.

Mercer and his partner drove into Compton to find Duke. They had an insider who tracked Duke's every move and reported back to Mercer himself. As the car drifted down the streets they rolled by the park.
"What the fuck?!" Mercer exclaimed as the car pulled off and parked. They observed the scene ahead of them.
"Should we call for backup?" his partner asked.
"No, not yet. Let's see how Duke handles this" Mercer replied "These militia boys are in for some real trouble"

The Benz drove down the street, moving up through some low-income housing and small-scale apartments to one of their fronts, the One Man's Trash pawn and loan shop. The car pulled around the back into a small garage where the four got out of the car. Mikhail and Sergei went into the building while Travis and Petrov went to the trunk and dragged the captured dealer into the building and down some stairs. They threw him in a small chair and tied him to it, then took the tape and the sock out of his mouth.

"Imma go upstairs, aight?" said Travis.

"Da, go ahead." said Petrov as he moved over to a crate and removed the lid with a crowbar. As Travis went upstairs, another man came down. He was very big and burly with black hair and a scar from his left cheek to under his chin.

"It is nice to see you made it, Petrov." said Vlad.

"This fucker gave us too much trouble to be let off easy." replied Petrov, snatching up a blowtorch and a sparker.

"Well, how do you want to proceed?" asked Vlad moving to the crate and grabbing cheese grader and a needlenose pliers.

"First I want to know where our 5 G's are." said Petrov, sparking the blowtorch to life. He tossed the sparker back in the box and moved up to Tiny.

"Yo, hey. Hey! Be cool, man!" trembled Tiny.

"Where the fuck is my money?" asked Petrov. "It's been weeks. And now I've called it in. I come to politely ask for the cash you owe us and you shoot at us. That's no way to make friends, Tiny." He brought the torch to Tiny's ankle and set the tip of the flame on his wound, cottorizing it but giving the thug a searing pain.

"Ah!" screamed Tiny. Vlad backhanded him in the face and let Petrov continue.

"So, where is it Tiny?" asked Petrov again.

"Yo! I lent it to some homiez, dawg, so please! Give me another week!"

"You don't have another week!" shouted back Petrov, sticking the torch to another bullet wound, causing Tiny to scream again. "Who has it!"

"Man, I don't know!" cried Tiny. "Some home boyz from Compton! They had a big shipment and..."

"What 'home boyz' exactly?" said Petrov. "This city has thousands of 'home boyz' in it, so be specific before I do something worse to you."

"I can't man! I just can't!"

"Vlad, break his thumbs." said Petrov. Vlad grabbed Tiny's left hand and wrenched back his thumb, snapping it back to his wrist. As Tiny screamed, the same was done to his right thumb..

"Oh, fucking Christ!" cried Tiny in agony.

"Who has the money!" screamed Petrov.

"I don't know!" retorted Tiny crying all over himself.

"Do something to him, Vlad." said Petrov. Vlad snatched up the cheese grader and started at the side of Tiny's face, causing more screams.

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you! Just stop the pain!" shouted Tiny. "Royals! I swear!" Tiny was lying about the whole thing, but the Russians didn't know it. He actually blew it on a new Stereo system in his car and his room, and since the Royals were his rivals, he would rather dump this problem on them.

"Well, I guess he we don't need him anymore." said Vlad.

"No we don't," said Petrov, drawing out a Makarov PM and shooting Tiny in the back of the head. "Tell Ling to take care of this mess. I have to go find some money." he said as he went up the stairs to tell his crew what was up.

Hours after the explosion

men were going about the scene of warehouse crime

"man all man what the"said Someone who step into the open trapdoor but at the min unkown to him

"looks like a opening know more when this debris moved"he said to himself as he turns his head to call for some help "hey give me a hand here"

after the debris is move they shine a flash light down

"holly shit"said someone
"get a paramedic here one of the Swat still alive"yelled another


Hospital

people go rashing past Jack's room with someone on a trolley

"whats going on out there"ask Jack's Wife who was looking out the door at the time
''eer don't know"said Jack

the same Police officer who came in before walks in with three hot coffee's

"whats up now"Jack asks him
"don't know let me put these down and go find out"said the Man

mins later the walks back in

"er your not the only striker alive the explosion pushed one into a tunnel he was looking into"said the Man

"who"ask Jack
"the name they got from army dogtags around his neck as his vest rip badly was Stone Winter"said the Man

"yes Stone was in the army and still wears his tags can it must be him"said Jack

Motel 6, Inglewood

At 10:00am the heat already became intolerable. Several police units as well as the coroner were on scene as lines of all too familiar yellow police tape traced around the scene, wrapping around light poles and such. There were some curious onlookers. Detective Jessica Lee stepped out of the ford intrepid utalized by the police. It was supposed to be her day off but that fact hardly bothered her. Not like she had anything better to do on her day off like sleep in late, go shopping, and go out with her friends. As she sighed, the detective moved up to the police tape and ducked down under and popped back up on the other side.
"Where the hell is Harding?" she wondered aloud as she approached the coroner, Dr.Ramirez. There were two black tarps over two bodies.
"Cause of death?" Lee asked as she flipped open her notebook.
"High impact round straight through the forhead for this one. The other one died of bullet wounds as well" Dr.Ramirex replied. Lee knelt down and flipped open the tarp, the sight wasn't pleasing to say the least. She let go and stood back up, the bodies were beginning to stink already. Suddenly, Detective Joe Harding, a veteran detective on the homocide squad breezed up next to her and examined the body.
"Sorry I was late, traffic's murder" he snickered.
"Hardly funny, Joe" Lee said as they walked away. "Looks like a hit, a drug deal gone bad?"
"Whoever did it knew what they were doing. No shell casings, probably from a distance. Any witnesses?" Harding inquired as he shoved his hands in his pockets and stood around nonchalantly.
"None, nobody saw anything" Lee mused, looking towards the crowd. "Somebody always sees it"
"Detectives!" a uniform shouted "There's another body over here!". The group rushed to a side alley, next to a dumpster was another man with his throat slit.
"This is some heavy shit" Harding said as they circled around the dead dealer. They went through the motions, took statements, cleared the scene, got the coroner's initial report from the scene and awaited an offical autopsy. The relatives were notified and Lee and Harding began to ask questions.

OOC: If Duke wants to kill this group go ahead. This squad is expendable

IC:

The Captain of the squad looked at Duke and his crew of six Royals. It was clear that the Militia was out numbered and the sight of one of the Royals going for a gun in his coat almost set off a chain reaction as the Militia members went for their 9mm pistols located on various places on their body mostly in the waist section of their pants. The Captain however upon seeing Duke stop his subordinate, gave an overall command to not draw their guns and proceeded to approach Duke and his crew followed by his squad of pissed off Militia soldiers.


These bald white guys with their military cameo clothes starting moving in towards the Royals and the Captain replied to Duke in a very irritated tone, “Yeah, The Militia has a bone to pick with any would be punk ass ni**er drug dealers trying to bring the White race down with their dope. The orders from above say to give these ni**ers a demonstration of what happens when you mess with the Militia’s turf.”

The Militia thugs watched their Royal counterparts closely and were ready to draw their pistols at a moments notice. It would be a blood bath if a fight broke out….

Duke paused, searching for a way to get them to back down, it was a dangerous situation, a powder keg which needed only the smallest flame to ignite it off. He didn't want a fight, it was bad for business adn for his image. Duke also knew the police were watching him from time to time, keeping tabs on him. He was unaware of Mercer's presence at the time.
"Listen here. You boys must be outside your damn minds" Duke antagonized quickly. "Comin' up in here tryin' to start a fight when you know yous outgunned" Off in the distance a lincoln pulled up and three more Royals piled out and walked up behind him, mean faced and ready for a fight.
"Look, let's all just walk away. You boys get back in your car and drive back home. There's no need for any of us to die today. Our time for blood will come" he foreshadowed.

The Captain figured something had to be up. The black street gangs usually fight when they have an advantage of numbers and firepower it did not make sense for them to suddenly retreat from fight and it gave the Militia leader cause to pause.

The Captain took into account more Royals were joining in on the meeting and the fact that the Militia was getting an easy out after pulling something like this would easily let them keep their respect on the streets. The Captain also took into the comment about their time for blood would come. It meant to the Militia captain that the Royals wanted to fight but not here or now. It seemed something was not right but the Captain decided to get out of a bad strategic position


The Captain after weighing the options finally said in a menacing tone, “I think we got our point across to you and your raggedy ass ni**er gang. If we catch you and your crew on our streets again, we won’t be giving love taps on the streets. It will be executions in the streets!”

The Captain waved his men and said, “Troops, move out!” The Militia men went into their muscle car with their loud rock in roll music blaring off the speakers. The car pulled out of the park and drove away to report back to the Chapter Master in Maywood…

A sigh of relief came out of Duke's mouth as the skinheads rolled out. The other members of the crew were stunned at the inaction taken by Duke.
"Yo Duke, how come we didn't cap'em?" Dee asked, clearily irritated. The other Royals were becoming upset, they could've wiped them out easily.
"Chill, dawgs" Duke ordered in a calm voice. "I got us covered" he looked across the street to see Mercer glaring back, then nodded. Duke nodded back and a smirk came across his face.
"It's that narc!" Dee exclaimed.
"Danny Mercer up there's our new hommie" Duke replied to them all. The truth of the matter was Mercer used unconventional tactics to quite down the streets and curb violence. The narcotics agent saw something in Duke that few outside his team could understand, Darius Williams was a smart man. Mercer decided to favor Duke over the previous leader of the Royals who was becoming sloppy on the streets. Duke ruled with cool efficency and rarely engaged in open conflicts with other gangs. Mercer allowed him to continue to sell drugs and conduct other businesses under his protection as long as Duke promised to keep down the violence and give him and his team a cut, it was a symbiotic relationship that worked.

Mercer popped the car in drive and made his way out of the area. The car moved down the city streets, several cars behind the muscle car carrying the skinheads.
"We got you you pricks" Mercer said aloud as he made a turn off, breaking off the pursuit. He didn't have the man power to pull them over safely.

Maywood.. Nash Vineyard’s Apartment



The Militia squad that had made the “demonstration” on the Royals dealer entered their bosses apartment in Maywood to give him the news from the streets. They had told him about the hit and the message from Duke. It seemed the Royals wanted to fight but they did not want to fight it out in the streets.

Nash smiled and told his men to go home for tonight. The Chapter Master of Maywood had to come up with a plan to deal with the Royals in his area and hopefully increase his own power within the Militia. The fact that Nash and Derek used to be in the Brand back in their prison days. This experience taught them both to use violence to get your point across and the point was made but it did not have the effect desired by the High Command.

The High Command wanted the Royals to fight them on the streets the only way the Militia knew how to fight. It seemed the Militia was going to have to adapt to new and highly disturbing situation…

It was a busy day for Lee and Harding as they interviews possible witnesses at the crime scene. The bodies were gone but the tape remained as each of them questioned a witness, trying to make things go faster. It was a frustrating process, no one was talking or giving up any information. They want our help but won't help us! Lee wanted to scream in frustration but she remained calm on the outside, slowly imploding from the idiocy of the situation. There was an older woman in the crowd, slightly overweight with short curly balck hair. There was a concerned look on her face and Lee pulled her off to the side.
"You look concerned ma'am" Lee began but was cut off.
"Concerned?! There are dead boys lying on the ground, all shot up!" the woman exclaimed.
"Did you hear or see anything?" Lee inquired "Your name?"
"I'm Cindy Watters, that's my house over there" she pointed to a house just opposite the parking lot. "I heard a whole lotta stuff last night"
"Like?" Lee lead on.
"I heard the gunshots, ma'am" Cind Watters admitted "There was also alot of yelling."
"At what time?" Lee began to jot down notes on her pad.
"Around 2:30 or 3am. Awefully loud. I went to the window, against my better judgement and saw what happened."
"Did you see who did it?"
"No, but I heard someone with an accent" Watters rambled.
"What kind of an accent?" now she was getting somehwhere.
"Russian or something like that" Watters finished. Lee thought to herslef that this was the first big break. It was an interesting idea, Russians in Inglewood, that's a first. Of course, there's a first time for everything.

Hospital Stone's Room next day

Stone wakes to find Jill fast to sleep with her head on his chest and from the way her make up was he guess she had cried a lot on what happen

hung on what in hell did happen,where the hell ,shit the explosion

"no"said Stone as it came back to him

"Stone your awake"said Jack as his wheelchair was pushed into the room by his Wife
"not again"said Stone

"not again what"ask Jill as she wakes up

Duke's Residence

Duke returned to his home later in the day after meeting with some members of his crew, as well as other contacts. This event could spark a war Duke didn't want. So far, he managed to keep it quiet in the neighborhoods he controlled but this ignorant skinheads were about to ruin it. His dealers went off turf, so what? It was all business. He had to keep a war from erupting or else Mercer could turn on him. There were several Royals in the house, some of his most trusted friends. There was a knock on the door. It was loud and hard, an attention getter. Duke stood up and moved to the door, his friends watching, just in case. He carefully undid the latches and bolt and creeked the door open.
"Open the door, asshole!" Mercer barked as he forced his way in passed Duke, he was alone. The other crew members were startled "Relax ladies, I'm not here to bust you"
"There's some fucked up shit goin' on, Mercer" Duke said as he closed the door, eyeing the outside before doing so.
"What's the deal with the skinheads?" he asked, sitting down on a couch.
"These crackas beat up one of my boys while he was working. The, they come up in my turf and startin' shit." Duke replied, quite irritated by the situation.
"They sure are bold, it was smart of you not to retaliate back there in the park"
"It's bad for business" Duke shot back. He moved over to the window and looked out. "I don't want a war"
"Neither do I" Mercer said as he stood up "I'll put some heat on them, just tell your boys to lay low and don't do anything stupid" he pointed a finger at the others.
"Ain't no one gonna do anythin', Mercer. Don't you worry" Duke said.

Inglewood

The Mercedes-Benz W203 drove down the dark streets, looking for a good place to dump the body of the once-usefull Tiny.

"Where the fuck are we throwing him?" asked Mikhail in the passenger seat.

"I don't know...how about that alley near the Motel 6." said Sergei. "He can join his pal in the dumpster."

"Alright, but be careful about it." replied Mikhail taking a swig of his flask. "Fuck!" he shouted, pointing at the scene. Cops were everywhere, interviewing people and photographing the scene. "Yeah, dump him by the Motel 6! It'll be fine!"

"Shut the fuck up, Mikhail!" retorted Sergei. "It'll be a safe drop, just watch."

He pulled the Benz past the Motel 6, looking at a distressed woman interviewing people. He sensed she was someone to watch out for, and pulled into the alley down the street. Moving up next to the dumpster, the two Serbs got out and moved to the trunk.

"Nice and easy," said Sergei, opening the trunk and pulling out Tiny's body, dropping it on the ground.

"Okay, one sec, let me grab some gloves." said Mikhail reaching into the car.

All of the sudden, out of nowhere, some voices were heard on the end of the alley.

"Yo, It's those cats that killed Smoke!" one yelled.

"Waste that fool!" came another.

"Fuck!" shouted Sergei pulling out a Makarov and flipping off the safety. Some gunshots were heard up the alley with a few handgun bullets whizzing by them. Sergei aimed and fired back, hitting one of the thugs in the arm. Mikhail also returned fire with his Px4, hitting the same thug in the leg and in the stomach.

"We need to go!" yelled Mikhail, jumping in at the wheel and gunning the engine. Sergei fired the rest of his clip off, and dove into the car. Mikhail gunned it towards the thug still standing at about 55 Mph. The thug, stepped sideways to avoid the car, still shooting. Sergei swung the door open, smashing it into the thug launching him into a few crates and slamming the door shut. The Benz sped up the street towards One Man's Trash as fast as they could.

Almost at the Shop, Mikhail slammed on the brakes and stopped the car.

"Give me your gun!" he demanded. Sergei handed him his Makarov, wondering what was going on. Mikhail ran to the side of the road, picked up a paper bag, stuffed the guns in and tossed it in the sewer. He ran back into the car and continued towards the shop. "No evidence." he said, driving down the dark streets.

Meanwhile, in the alley, Tiny's body sat half in the dumpster, his legs hanging out. The thug that got shot was on the ground moaning in pain while the one that got hit by the door was out cold bleeding out of his nose and mouth.

OOC: This alley is maybe a block or two away from the Motel 6, so I'm sure some of the Police could have heard it. I just threw it in so your detective had more of a lead.

Sunset Bar two days later

"so how is he"ask one the Ladys that work with Jill

"he's back in the Dormitory with me and on sick leave,but he has not said much and his whole mood change again Rose"said Jill

"what do you mean again"ask another lady

"his mood had change from what i knew it was like before he came back when the fighting end in the Malden Islands group"said Jill

"how much of the fighting did he see there"ask Rose
"he was station there after boot when the mess happen"said Jill

Firing Range

Stone emptys the 19 round magazine of his Glock 18 into a paper target

"how long has he been here"ask one Police officer Ranges supervisors to another
"from 12"said the other supervisor

Highland Park, Los Angeles..

The sound of bass was heard up and down the street deep inside Eastside Kings territory, the house the music was comming from was a small one level with a one car open garage on the left side. In the front yard there were several bald headed Latino gangsters drinking liquer deep in conversation with one another, they wore gang colours around their heads or hanging from their left back pockets, small arms were visible resting in their waist bands or tucked into their jeans. This day was like any other regular day in Los Angeles Highland Park, childern out playing in the streets, people carrying out their daily buisness, gangsters hanging on corners and in their friends front yards soaking up the California heat....

Just then two lowriders came into veiw comming down the street, the one in the front was a 63' Chevy Impala dark blue, silver and black on 18inch chrome rims, a cross on beads dangled from the rear veiw and occupying the ride were five men. The second car was a 62' Impala in gold with a white top up on it's hydrolics sittin on 18's, the sound of their engines rumbled as they pulled up in front of the house where the music was comming from. All the gang members in the yard glanced over and afew of them walked foward to greet the guys who just got out of the lead car,

"Carlitos!" One of them said with a large grin on his face..

They all exchanged handshakes and afew words, the porch opened and out stepped a very muscular man with tattoo's all over his arms and chest, beside him stood a beautiful Latina woman who had long dark hair, perfect coloured skin, dark eyes, perfect smile with full lushious lips and a body to die for,

"Baby put some more food on for Carlitos!"

"Alright papi" she replyed then turned around, playfully bumped him with her ass and went in the house..

Carlitos, an attractive, young, arrogant, smooth gangster made his way into the yard and stopped before the large man on the porch,

"Hectorr!"

He smiled and the two locked in a hug,

"How's it goin' ese? whats the word on the streets?" Asked Hector..

Hector Venegaz was the leader of the Eastside Crew, he ran shit around here and had influance in other neibourhoods across Los Angeles. Hector was not the type to fuck around with people, if it had to be doen it was done at that very second there was no such thing as putting it off or slacking. Hector had been a gangster his whole life, growing up in the streets, in and out of the Penn. all the time but the one thing in his life that made all the pain dissapear was his wonderful girlfriend Gina who had been with him for years always remaining loyal even when Hector was locked up...she loved him with all her heart.

"The Royals and Militia arn't getting along man...bad blood between them Ese..i heard they already got in a fight.."

Hector shook his head, he didn't like skinheads but he never minded the Royals too much as they never stepped on his toes..

"Humph...fuck it bra, the only time it's in our interests is if they come steppin to us in around our turf fuckin' wit us...then we lay some bitches down"

"True enough my brother..." replyed Carlitos..

"Come in and have somthing to eat, Gina put somthing on for you"

The two went into the house while the rest of the men stayed outside drinking 40's and smokin' herb. During dinner there was a knock on the door and outside was one of the gang members, Carlitos could tell he looked egar to speak..

"What is it?" He asked..

"Ehhh Carlitos maan, we caught acouple black vato's tryin to move somthin' in the hood Ese..."

Carlitos shrugged,

"So? are they fuckin' dead yet?"

"Well..no.."

Carlitos pushed the man backwards and raised his voice,

"What the fuck! where they fuck are they then Ante'?"

The man stumbled backwards,

"Chill out Ese...we got them..they arn't dead cuz' Junior and them other young hommies caught them and took them to the south lockup..."

Suddenly Carlitos was moved aside and Hector stepped out walking towards the Low rider Carlitos arrived in earlier,

"Carlitos!" he waved him on then got in the car..

The two pulled onto the street, made a U-turn and sped off towards the south lockup,

"Young hommies...can't do nothing right maaan.." Hector shook his head

After a fifteen minute drive the Impala pulled down a side road and up to a three level run down house with bars on the windows, men outside, and two Doberman's running freely. Hector and Carlitos got out of the car then walked around back having each of the guards give them a slow nod as they passed, they went down three steps to a steel door knocking three times, a veiw slot was opened then the door was quickly unlocked allowing entry.

Inside the basement, cocaine was being bagged for sale on the streets, men armed with shotguns and pistols watched everyones movements carefully, the two past without saying a word to anyone. In the next room there were two young black males tied to chairs guarded by three Eastside Kings Junior members,

"Good job ..at fucking up!"

Hector slapped one of them in his bald head lightly,

"Junior..you of all people should have known Holmes..don't bring shit like this back here Ese!"

Hector grabbed a 9mm Sig Sauer from Juniors waist band, spun around and took aim at one of the prisoners heads, he tryed to cry out but a gag was in his mouth..Hector looked him in the eyes then...

**POW**

"Ehh! thats what happens to mother fuckers who come to our hood! Junior! put him to sleep!"

Hector looked at the young thug who looked at Carlitos, the other young thugs then the dead man sitting in the chair with his brains blown all over the wall behind him...

"JUNIOR!" Shouted Carlitos..

Junior held his hand open and one of the other young guys put a glock.21 in his hand, he took aim and fired..

**POW, POW**

He opened his eyes, the man was hit in the shoulder and the second shot missed..he rocked back in fourth in pain, Carlitos raised his Glock.18 and fired a single shot through the side of the mans head..

"Work on your aim..and keep your eyes open, also..get this shit out of here and don't let it happen again.."

Hector tossed the Sig to Junior who barely caught it leaving the room, the young thugs stood there staring at the bodys but Carlitos stopped..

"Ehh..lil' hommies..you can be better than this..you wanna work your way up and prove your hard shit...step it up a little, you'll be fine"

He nodded then followed Hector.

OOC: I leave it open for someone to make contact with buisness deals...charactor interaction...what ever...

Highland Park

Raymond drove up te street, passing some low riders and houses on his way to his destiny. One left turn, and he made it. 787992 Woodlawn Court. The redidence of Bob Fake, his bringer of the truth.

He got out of the car and walked up the pathlooking in the front window of the house. The door was locked, so he walked around the back. Climbing the fence he went over to the back door and looking inside. Bob was watching Spike TV's MaxX on loud volume, perfect for an inflitration. He slid open the sliding door and prepared himself.

"It is time," he said in a cold voice as he slashed the screen door and ran inside, stabbing, Bob in the back.

"Agh!" he screamed as he fell off in pain, knocking into the TV and breaking it.

"It is my duty!" screamed Raymond as he ran at Bob with his knife out. He stabbed at him again, but only caught his arm. Bob ran down the hall, stumbling, a trail of blood and broken objects in his wake. He ran into his room and threw open a dresser drawer, producing an M9 and aiming it at Raymond. Raymond kicked up a small stool, hitting Bob in the chest and causing him to fire. The shot went wild, into a mirror, shattering it on the floor. Raymond sprung on him, and with a violent swing, sliced Bob's neck spraying blood on the wall, bed and floor. He fell to the ground, shaking for a few seconds, then stiffened up and died, a pool of crimson building around him.

"It has been done!" cheered Raymond. "I am closer to The Truth!" he pulled out his Blackberry and recieved an email from the Harbinger, and quickly translating it he knew what to do. He dipped his knife in the blood and slashed a big, bloody '42' in the wall above the bed. As he walked out of the house the way he came in, he looked at the mess. Pictures and end tables were broken and splintered on the floor, two bullet holes were in the walls, a big, horrible blood trail was spread on the floor from the den to the bedroom, and the chair and TV were flipped and broken on the ground.

As he got in the Tercel and drove off, he had one stop to make. Pulling up to a payphone, he got out and called 911. An operator answered and he began.

"The truth has been told at 787992 Woodlawn, and Bob Fake has paid for his sins in blood. He is dead, and for the greater good of the Truth he was sacrificed!" He hung up before the operator could say anything and drove back home.

The gunfire so close to the crime scene set the police off. With pure instinct, Lee and Harding drew their weapons and darted down the alleyway with several uniforms. They used cover and concealment as they approached cautiously. Despite their best efforts, the shooters were gone and there was a body on the ground.
"Dammit!" Lee shouted in frustration "Right under our noses" she holstered her firearm as the scene cleared.
"This is a fucking massacre" Harding commented as the medics arrived and pronounced the man dead. There was another man knocked out on the ground. And there was another body in the dumpster. The medics rushed to the one who was still alive and performed emergency care and rushed him away.
"I want a uniform at that man's door in the hospital!" Lee demanded as she got on the radio and called it in. The city was heating up already.

OOC:There's WAY too much killing going on right now, I'm losing count. Let's all cool down a bit, shall we?

OOC:There's WAY too much killing going on right now, I'm losing count. Let's all cool down a bit, shall we?


OOC: The Russo-Serb guys are done for a while since they think the Royals have their money. They'll be on a more passive role. Raymond is going to be sporadic with most of his strikes being property damage or vandalism instead of killing.

Lee stepped back into the intrepid. There were numerous dead and only one survivor. The only other witness besides the survivor wasn't much help except for claiming the shooters talked in Russian. That right now was her only lead. Harding lumbered into the driver's seat and adjusted himself.
"I got nothing from any of them" he sighed, looking over to his partner. "You need to relax and take it easy. You've only been a detective for a few months, these things happen. I still get overwhelmed from time to time."
"It's just...It's just that this whole city is fucked up!" Lee bursted out of nowhere. She always prided herself on remaining cool and in controll of her emotions, but they finally ripped through. "All this killing, for what? All roads lead to a drug deal gone bad. Our only lead is that the bastards had Russian accents." she finished.
"You think the Russian mob has something to do with this?" Harding asked.
"I dunno, perhaps. These guys are pretty ruthless." Lee replied, resting her head back and closing her eyes.
"Well, let's head to the hospital and ask our friend some questions. Then, we can call Mercer and see if the Russians are up to anything"
"Mercer?!" Lee exclaimed, almost jumping out of her seat, turning her head towards him.
"Do you have a problem with him?" Harding cooly asked as the engine started.
"No" Lee felt embarrassed "The only real problem I have is the fact he's a dirty cop with too many secrets."
"Don't we all?" Harding asked, the car was now in motion.
"He's got dinosaur skeletons in his closet" Lee mulled as the car revved down the street, towards the hospital.

Sunset Bar

after parking his Jeep Stone heads inside the Bar were he got looks from those inside

"hey honey"said Jill leaning over the bar so she could kiss him
"mm"said Stone as he takes the kiss then sits down as Jill hand him a drink

"where do you want to eat"ask Stone as he just looks into the glass
"how about Macks Dinner then i got to finish some paper work for class tomorrow"said Jill as she works
"fine"said Stone

Highland Park

Carlitos and Hector drove through the streets back from South lockup, they were smoking a joint listening to some tunes crusing down the road at a slow speed windows and top down enjoying the day,

"Those young hommies will be aight Carlitos..you baby them too much Ese.."

"I just..i wanna look out for them man, like you did for me..like a brother holmes.."

Hector chuckled and went to reply when two shots rang out through the air, both gangsters dropped their heads and sped up..

"Shit Ese...what the fuck holmes" Carlitos cussed...

"Those shots came from inside one of those three houses by the corner..no one we know?"

"Naww...i don't think..lets get the fuck off the streets though, someone will be callin' po-po.."

Hector and Carlitos arrived back at the house and went inside to see Gina and some of her girlfriends watching T.V,

"Hey hunni, hey Carlitos..the rest of your food is in the microwave"

Shortly after police sirins were heard on the approach, the police helicoptor that usually flew over the neibourhood at this time had just flown over..

"Well..everyone else is gonna be out there in the street, lets go"

Everyone in the house went outside on the street to see cops had the street blocked off and an ambulance just pulled up,

"Someones dead in there Ese.." Carlitos stared hard...

Hector walked foward and spoke to one of the cops,

"Yo..what happen in there officer?"

"Homicide..back up away from the scene sir"

"Alright man, chill" He chuckled..

"Someone got off'd in there Ese, nothin' new around here im goin inside before pigs come around the house.."

Hector walked towards the house but the others stayed and watched, pretty near everyone on the street was outside interested in the action....

OOC: Anyone want to come meet Hector? lol buisness? cops? questions?

OOC Just DEA if you got infor

OOC Just DEA if you got infor

OOC: Uhh i don't really need DEA's attention :-)...and i don't think Hector would be giving any information hehe..im not sure where we could interact, i don't need any heat though Lol :-P

OOC: Uhh i don't really need DEA's attention :-)...and i don't think Hector would be giving any information hehe..im not sure where we could interact, i don't need any heat though Lol :-P

OOC you read what i did so many inforn on the thugs payed to carry it out for some money

OOC you read what i did so many inforn on the thugs payed to carry it out for some money

OOC: How about i let you hit one of my small store houses, capture one of my young members and turn him into a informant...? of course he will not feed you everything but it will add some spice to the story...what say you? if yes i will goto the OOC thread and tell you the defences at the compound.

OOC: How about i let you hit one of my small store houses, capture one of my young members and turn him into a informant...? of course he will not feed you everything but it will add some spice to the story...what say you? if yes i will goto the OOC thread and tell you the defences at the compound.

OOC right we work it out in that and it be night when you get hit
IC
Swat Base

"hey Jack you heard Stone left the force"said Someone walking up to him
"shit no when Pete"ask Jack
"about one he hand his gun and shield in guess he had enough"said Pete

The hospital was busy, as it usually was. The emergency room was half full with people severley injured, two of them from gun shots. It was organized chaos as the medical staff did their routine dance through the hospital, fluid in motion, everything down to a dot. They became all too familiar with injuries from the streets. Lee and Harding walked through the emergency room doors to the front desk, showing the nurse their badges and asking permission to enter, they met no objections. The two of them moved steadily down the corridor on the second floor. Hospitals always gave Lee the creeps, she never enjoyed being in them and one was never there for a good reason, it was always something bad. At one door stood an all too obviously bored LAPD uniform who was more preoccupied eyeing up a young nurse down the hall than guarding the victim. He quickly changed his game when the two detectives walked up, looked him over, then moved into the room, Harding closed the door. Inside was the man, bandaged up and awake, but groggy.
"I'm Detective Lee" she initiated contact "And this is Detective Harding. We'd like to ask you a few questions. First off, may I have your name?" she asked.

OOC: Candistan, you can be the witness.

"Yeah," said the thug. "I'm Rico. Whatcan I help you with?" He had a semi-rude tone in his voice, but he tried to be nice so he wouldn't get in more trouble than he was already in.

"Rico, I need your last name as well" Lee responded, flipping open her notepad and sitting in a chair, moving it up closer, ignoring his rude tone. "Tell me what happened early this morning or whenever these events transpired" she asked.

Raid

Stone slits the throat of the last outside gang member as another man place C4 on the two Car he and Stone with four others had parachuted into the target zone

#RT C4 place and on stand by#
#BT C4 place and stand by#

"FT C4 on cars and door"said Stone then checks his M4

"3 2 1 mark"said Stone

the souped up Al Camino and a 67' Chevelle go up in Flames at sametime Holes are blasted in the Back wall,Roof and Front wall

"Frags out"said Stone over the radio as he and his team mate throw in M26 grenades at sametime the other two team do the same then go in guns firing

Maywood…..

The Militia had been spending the next couple of hours gathering their resources for the upcoming war. The Militia run arms rackets were now selling guns to the Militia at discounted prices to quickly arm the foot soldiers on the ground as black money or illegal funds were sent to the High Command to be hidden or laundered by the more high class criminal organizations.


Derek and his Chapter Masters decided the Royals were flexing and they wanted to make a counter strike at the Militia for the brutal demonstration on one of their dealers in Compton. Derek made the call and ordered that a hit be pulled on the Royals dealers near Militia run communities and that the hits be quiet and discreet.








Long Beach…..


The next day after the “demonstration” a black 1973 Dodge Charger headed toward Royal controlled territory with a crew of two guys dressed in Militia gear. They were armed with a sawed-off shotgun and they both had WIST-94 pistols. They headed out at 12p.m. from their base in Long Beach planned to hit their target around sundown when he would be packing to head home and when his customer base would be leaving to avoid being seen by witnesses.

The two skinheads listened to extremely loud rock and roll. It was clear they were taking the scenic route to avoid being spotted on their approach nearing the Royals controlled neighborhoods. The skinheads waited for the sun to begin setting before heading into Royal controlled turf turning down their music and trying to avoid being noticeable. It was hopped they could hit the dealer and take off before the Royals could respond…

OOC: HOLY SHITZ!! I didn't know SWAT members slit throats of gangsters, that's too hardcore to be true. I hope I never get into it with LAPD SWAT.

It was a quiet day in Long Beach as the people went about their business. The Royals were out and around on street corners, just hanging out and chilling. Bull, one of Duke's crew sat in a lawn chair in his yard. Around him were several other gang members. Bull was a man of stocky build, pure muscle and a loyal soldier to the end. He already spent two years in county, along with a bullet wound in his chest from a bad drug deal. They sat there, chatting it up when a 1973 Dodge Charter rolled by, blaring rock music. They stared down the occupants as they rolled by.
"Ain't that some shit" commented one of the guys.
"Sure as hell is" Bull replied as he reached in his pocket and produced a cell phone. He dialed a number he knew by heart.
"Duke, it's Bull...there's some crackas up in here scoping the hood out 'nstuff...what were they playin'?...Rock music, like what they all listen too, dawg...yeah, I gottcha" and the other end hung up.
"What is it, Bull?" asked one of the members.
"Listen up, crew. Get some more boys and we're gonna keep tabs on these pricks. No one follow them in their cars, they'll catch on. We gonna wait and see waht they're up to. Grab yo nines and let's saddle up!" Bull said as he launched out of the chair and towards the house. Within minutes, several lieutenants within The Royals were alerted to the siuation and were on stand-by with their crews, watching the skinheads from thir homes and alleyways.

Duke dialed another number, one he rarely ever wanted to dial but needed to do so anyways. The skinheads were out of their minds, he thought. They walked away earlier and now wanted more trouble.

OOC not SWAT

OOC: I hope you don’t mind this post…..

Inside the Black 1973 Charger…

“Breaking the Law, Breaking the Law” exclaimed the loud Judas priest music blazing inside the vehicle with two hyped up Militia skinheads dressed in their traditional Army Cameo outfits. They were scanning the area looking for possible targets and noticed that the majority of them had Royals guarding them or they were leaving their areas to the safety of their homes.

It took another couple of seconds before Danny the driver spotted a lone Royal walking down the sidewalk heading towards his position. He was alone and the best part was that the hit squad could hit him from their car and drive off quickly. Danny quickly called to his friend over the loud music, “Hey Eddie, I think we found a nice target walking along this sidewalk. He seems to be in a hurry and he is a Royal look at his outfit and he seems like a nice target all alone!”

Eddie the larger skinhead with the sawed off shotgun smiled and replied, “Okay, lets pull up and meet this ****** in person. I think he should give us some directions before he bites the dust!”

Danny pulled up towards the Royal and slowed the car to a walking distance and Eddie lowered his window which blazed out the song into the street…Eddie had already hidden the shotgun in the back seat. He had his pistol out and hidden behind his back ready to draw it at a seconds notice.



Eddie called from his window, “Hey ******! I need some directions to get back to our neighborhood could you tell us which way Eastside is?”

The minute the Royal moved close enough to answer, The WIST-94 would start blasting at point blank range…

Raid

Stone slits the throat of the last outside gang member as another man place C4 on the two Car he and Stone with four others had parachuted into the target zone

#RT C4 place and on stand by#
#BT C4 place and stand by#

"FT C4 on cars and door"said Stone then checks his M4

"3 2 1 mark"said Stone

the souped up Al Camino and a 67' Chevelle go up in Flames at sametime Holes are blasted in the Back wall,Roof and Front wall

"Frags out"said Stone over the radio as he and his team mate throw in M26 grenades at sametime the other two team do the same then go in guns firing

All was quiet during the night at one of Hectors store houses on the south side, the two sentrys outside patrolled the grounds around the cars, they saw eachother and turned around to go back where they came from when all of a sudden both were grabbed onto quietly and their throats were slit before they knew what was going on. Junior was in one of the bedrooms with a girl riding him to low music,

"Damn girl! work that shit!"

Junior lit a joint then all of a sudden two large explosions went off outside, then one behind the house....

"What the fuck!!"

He pushed the girl off him, stumbled out of the bed and quickly got his pants on,

"Maurice! Ante! FUCK!"

"DEA!!" screamed one of the men..

**POW,POW,POW**

Shots echoed from downstairs, one of the gang members hit a DEA agent entering the breech, Juniors cell phone rang and he picked it up..

"Yo, Junior you got pigs all over you man!"

"Mother fucker! you call after they already in holmes!"

He threw the phone at the wall and grabbed his Sig Sauer from the nightstand and crept through the house upstairs, sweat dripped from his head down over his face, he could hear the shouts downstairs..he started to pray in spanish.

Downstairs three of the gang members held out behind the kitchen counter on the other side of the breech putting fire on the agents, in the livingroom one of the thugs was injured by a blast while the other got to his knees and put his hands behind his head. Junior took the back stairs down to the ground floor and went through the door into the basement closing it behind him flickedn the light and proceeded..

He looked around franticly holding his pants up with one hand, Sig in the other, in the corner of the room was the drug storage lockup..

Ok...ok..that shit needs to go..

He rushed over to a work bench and took a glass bottle filling it with liquids, then stuffed a rag in it and got back on the stairs, he took a deep breath, lit the rag and threw the bottle..

**BOOM**

The drugs exploded in flames and were now on fire along with the wall and roof..

Junior threw the Sig at the bottom of the stairs and ran, the house was now on fire from the basement and the old place would quickly burn up..Junior seen DEA agents comming in from the front breech, he got on his knees and called out..

"Yo! i give up! i give up! there are people upstairs! girls man!"

Hectors place...

The phone on the nightstand buzzed and moved across the table top flashing, Hector rolled over and picked it up..

"W'sup?"

He rubbed his eyes then sprung up,

"South..WHAT THE FUCK! UGHHHHH!"

He flipped the phone shut and sat up, Gina rolled over and got on her knees behind him..

"Whats wrong Papi?"

"Buisness baby..it's ok..go back to sleep.."

She ran her fingers over the side of his face and lay back down, Hector sat there staring at the wall in the dark room, he picked up the phone and dialed Carlitos's number..

"Yeah, it's me Ese..get some ofthe guys together..we meet at the spot.."

He closed the phone and stood up getting ready to go out...

OOC: Not what i expected..frag grenades? C4? there are civilians in here you know....also i say you scratch the C4 on the roof? are you trying to kill everyone and level this old broke down house?..the killing of the sentrys was also unnessasary but..meh..we can let it ride this time? but i suggest NON leathal tactics..

"It's Alverez," he said, trying to sound nicer. He coughed, then began.

"So here's how it went down." he started, "Two nights ago at like 3, I got a call that the deal got fucked up between my oy Smoke and two other chapter members. He said that T-Bone got shot in the head out of nowhere, and when him and the other guy tried to run, only he made it. The other guy got gunned down just before the woods.

"After that, he said he was at an alley by the Motel 6 and needed some backup. While I was on the phone I heard some voices, not English or anything, and then a slice and gurgle. Then the phone died on his end. Me and another homie decided yesterday night that we were going to pick him up and at least bury him with his bro, but when we got there I heard the same voice so we decided to talk 'em straight. We yelled to 'em but the suckas started shooting. My homie was laid out then and there, so I kept shooting at 'em. They were yelling in another language again, and then started driving at me with thier Benz. I stepped out of the way and kept shooting, but one of the bitches kicked the door open and hit me. I don't know what happened next.

The detective listened carefully as she jotted down key words and phrases from Alvarez's statement. The times matched up with the other witness. As Lee continued to write, the mention of a foreign language caught her ear.
"A foreign language?" she uttered, stopping her writing. "Was it Russian?" she asked. If it was, the case was becoming more solid.

Meanwhile...

Dee continued to walk down the street with his hands in his pockets, eyes forward. Behind him he could hear the rock music and knew the car was following him. He wanted them to follow, just a little bit more. It was a hot day out and beads of sweat formed on his forehead. All he had to do was let them follow him for a little bit longer. Suddenly, one of the skinheads uttered something that made his blood boil. Hidden in the alleys as well as a parked car were several Royals, strapped and ready.
"Eastside?!" he exclaimed without turning around "I don't know about Eastside but I can tell you how to get to yo mama's house!" Dee bolted inbetween two houses. The two Royals in the car sat up and pulled out their MAC-11's, opening fire on the car as several others came from an alley, with shotguns and pistols, blasting away, shooting out a tire and causing great damage.

"Well, I guess it was." said Rico, trying to remember what they sounded like. "One of 'em had this guy they were going to toss into a dumpster and he kept saying 'nyet' and 'da' to what the other guy was asking him. I don't know Russians but it sounded like it. But listen, I don't deal with Russians and I don't got beef with any Russians. At that Motel 6, my boy was clean. Smoke wasn't loaded, he didn't have any shit on him. I didn't either, I mean those Russian cats or whatever shot at us first, killed my homeboy, and almost got me with their pussy door tricks. It was self defense, man! You'd do the same thing if some crazy ass bitches was shooting at you! If you want to find these bitches, look for a fucked up Black Benz. I shot that car at least ten times, plus that hit to the door probably dented the shit outta his yung car.

Officer Riggs and Officer Sanchez drove through the streets of Highland Park on a routine patrol when they got the call to a drug raid that turned into a firefight,

"Unit 2-6 en-route to call, over"

Riggs stomped the pedal and turned on their red and blues,

"That address...thats one of Hectors spots, DEA must have been tipped off that shit was going on there?"

The officers arrived at the scene to see smoke comming from the basement windows, two smoking burning lowriders in the driveway and a group of DEA agents securing the area..

"Holy fuck, looks like a gang hit..not a raid.."

The two officers got out of the squad car and took up position to watch, more white and black LAPD cars pulled up lights flashing..

"Up there..in the window!"

Sanchez pointed up to see a girl in the window screaming, pointed it out to a DEA agent who ignored him,

"Be right back!"

Riggs ran towards the house pushing by two agents who watched, he ran up to the porch and tryed to go in..

"DEA operation...back up!"

"Theres a girl upstairs!"

The fire from the basement had spread up the stairs and smoke poured through the open doorway into the main level of the house, the agent replyed,

"We'll get her...back up!"

Riggs moved off the porch and rushed around to the side of it and dropped his belt that held all his gear, climbed up on the railing, put one hand on the porches roof and pulled himself up to the second level, Agents below were yelling at him and other LAPD watched in awe. Riggs took the girls hand and pulled her through the window and pulled her towards the edge of the roof..

Two uniformed LAPD stood below ready to catch her, Riggs pushed her and she let out a little scream and the cops caught her, Tyson was about to hop back down when he heard more screams from inside the burning building..

Aww fuck..

He climbed in the window and looked around, two matresses, a sterio on low and an open door leading into a dark hallway...Riggs reached for his gun but remembered he left his gear outside,

Fuck...now all i need is some Loco mother fucker with a final deathwish..

Riggs carefully made his way down the hall and seen smoke comming up the stairs, in a side room were two girls,

"LAPD! is anyone else up here?"

"No! Junior and Ang.."

The other girl nudged her and she went quiet..

Riggs grabbed both of them by their wrists and drug them back towards the window when he found himself looking down the barrel of a pump action shotgun,

"Hold it right there holmes.."

He backed towards the window and looked out to see all the sirins and cops outside,

"Get me the fuck out of here Ese.."

One of the girls spoke,

"Angel! let us out man...this place is going to burn down!"

The gangster stepped in front of the window and looked down, Riggs charged foward and threw himself at the unsuspecting thug causing them both to fly out the window, the Latino rolled off the roof and hit the ground with a thud, Riggs recovered himself and scurried back to the open window helping the girls out onto the roof..

"Jump..it's not far!"

They both sat down and pushed themselves off the porch roof and hit the ground, Riggs jumped behind them...the other officers on the scene rushed up and patted him on his back,

"Common Riggs you crazy bastard!"

Unknown location...

A dark well furnished room was dimly lit and several top gangsters in the Eastcoast Crew stood around smoking joints and cigars, Carlitos stood in the corner with his arms crossed...

"We had a leak...and it has caused me much anger..i was waken up from sleep to find out one of my spots has been hit by the DEA! the DEA! not S.W.A.T....LAPD...the big boys with the big balls!"

Hector wore an all white sport suit with a chrome and gold Desert eagle tucked in the front of his trousers,

"I want to know where this leak came from..i want to know who told the fucking pigs about that house and what was going down there!

"Contact Riggs and Sanchez and find out what they know Carlitos...this is some fucked up shit my brothers....i want everyone watched carefully...but don't let them know you are on to them...play it good and we will sort this little mess the fuck out, this leak could of even come from outside the Crew, other gangs with a hate on for us could have dropped a dime on our operations.."

After a breif hesitation he continued,

"I don't want news like this again...now get out there!"

The gangsters nodded slowly and left the room behind a red curtian that hung in the doorway,

"Carlitos...sit, lets havea drink Ese.."

Snip
Junior just got a fist to his face and would wake to find he was in a Cell with who ever was taken by the DEA who showed up after the hit

Black Hawk
"four rounds to vest man"said the man who was with Stone to the others

Snip

Two DEA man were Talking

"so what this new Force that hit this Place"ask one to the other

"i heard they were made to go after a drug cartel same one behind the plan of that Drug bust that killed those SWAT teams three days back and attack on the embassy last month"said the other

"are they working for us"ask the other
"No"said the man

Riggs and Sanchez watched five of Hectors crew being lead off to vehicles, three were put in ambulances, one, who had been wounded in the frontal breach and the other two that were dead upon their arrival...

"These boys are serious...not one of Hectors guys were killed in the action, those two were dead when we got here.."

Riggs shook his head and spoke..

"It's a damn shame.."

Sanchez gave him a puzzled look,

"Uhh...gangsters die every day?"

Riggs looked at him and chuckled,

"Dumb ass, i ment the cars that got blown up...fuck man! they were classics!"

Sanchez walked towards the cruiser shaking his head slowly, Riggs went to get in the driver side and shrugged,

"What..?"

Sanchez grinned and got in the car....

Police holding cells....

Junior awoke laying on a steel cot with the other members from The Eastside Crew in the same cell or beside him. There were other innmates who were also crammed in there with them, he sat up and felt his nose..dryed up blood was on his open hand..

"Motherfuckers! hit me in my nose after i surrender...cheap pigs!"

Angel walked over,

"Hey Ese..the fuckin house was burning to the ground when we got out of there holmes..good job, the pigs got nothing on us.."

Junior gave him a discusted look,

"Besides we were shooting at them you fucking retards!"

He pushed Angel back and sat up, another innmate looked at him,

"Don't look at me holmes.."

"Did Anne get out man?" Junior looked up at Angel..

"Yeah holmes, a pig climbed in the window and saved her and the others..i tryed to take him out then he threw me out of the window.."

Junior layed back down on the cot..

Havin' a real bad night.. he thought..

All they could do is wait to see what was next....

A click of the pen retracting sounded the end of Lee's note taking as she stood up and flipped the notepad closed and put the pen inside her jacket pocket. The story was interesting and led her to believe that the old lady wasn't crazy.
"Thank you for your statement, I have to go back to the station and write an offical statement and come back and have you sign it." she said in a strictly business tone.
"I'll call Mercer and see if he knows any Russians" Harding added as he flipped open his cell phone.
"Alright, the uniform will be outside your door" Lee said and they two detectives walked outside and down the hallway. The statement worried Lee, she knew how vicious and ruthless the Russians were when it came to conducting any sort of business. Now, it seems they were moving, and picking up steam...