NationStates Jolt Archive

For the most part, people saw Mythrandir as a quiet nation that was unoffensive to most at the least. At best they were isolationist that preferred not to interfere with others. In all the hopes of the Elders, the Myths had kept themselves quiet in their little corner of the galaxy.

Now came on the invasions of tyrannts and blood thirsty warriors that thought the Kingdom would make an easy target to crush under their oppressive boot. In the end they had come to find that the metal that forged every Myth was not so easily bent. Blood ran on the plains of Aziruth and the skies turned crimson from the battles that raged in the heavens over Mythrandir. Every last soldier was hewn down as they retreated to their ships as the Myth Warriors came on like avenging spirits from the grave. Sins that had been visited upon the soil of their world would be paid for in the blood of those invading tyrannts.

In the times between the wars that marked the passing of time, peace had reigned in the Kingdom and the lands had prospered as new friends came on to the seen. Mythrandir was now beginning to find itself in a new role as they slowly grew on the galactic stage. Yet, they were not willing to step so boldly out with the feelings of isolation still running strong through beating heart of the planet.

With the opening of the galaxy to the planet, markets were free to expand while people started travelling abroad to see these far exotic lands. This new found freedom also allowed for others to begin looking elsewhere for business. Deep under the pristine city of Mytrhandir itself rested the hand of an organization that stretched its fingers throughout all of Mythrandir where they could. Every criminal entity belonged to this one group and ultimately the leader of what had been dubbed the Velvet Gauntlet.

Brothels, Thieves Guild, Citadel of Assasins, smugglers, and drug dealers collectively made up the five fingers of the gauntlet. As the foreign attacks came to Mythrandir, the Elders and city guards have been distracted in keeping their crime syndicate down. During these times, the crime ring thrived into new territories that had originally been closed to them.

Now that the battles were passing into memory, it was time for the Velvet Gauntlet to look elsewhere before the Elders hunted them out of existance. On the heads of each leader came to the designated meeting area. Cloaked figures lined the shadows of the underground cathedral while sconces casted a warm glow around the room. At the center of the stood a long oaken table with a number of chairs surrounding it. Sitting that the head of the table was one man cloaked completely in white.

"Come my brothers. It is time we talk of what is and what will be."

Materializing from the walls, five brown cloaked figures strode to the table and took their seats after bowing in respect to their lord. Wine goblets were passed around along with bread to slack any thirst or hunger.

"Tell me of what our current situation in the world above is."

Each one gave their reports in turn. The brothels were as strong as ever with no shortage of customers. Even the guards were not willing to shut them down since even they need the companionship of a woman at times. The woes of the rest came on as the Elders renewed their furvor in purging the criminals from the planet. The only saving grace here was that they were all competent enough to keep up the illusion that none of the other branches were connected at all to the greater organization of the Gauntlet.

"All of what you have said, I know. Your failures and successes are known to me. If I had lesser councilors sitting before me then surely your drink would have been poisoned. Alas, the Elders are now dedicated to ridding their lands of anything they see as a black mar on their phantasy world. Unfortunately they do not understand the darkness of the hearts of men cannot be fully erased.

So I now give you my proposal. We will lead the Velvet Gauntlet to a new era of prosperity. With the opening of the galaxy to our desire, we will stretch forth our hand to new worlds that are less stiffling than this one."

The deep voice of their leader had them all wrapt with attention as his own gauntlet encased right hand moved to animate his words. "Send your best messengers and begin infiltrating other societies. Work alongside other criminal organizations or take them over. I do not care which but do not forget where your loyalties lie."

Standing the man, that had taken control of every aspect of crime on Mythrandir and forged the Gauntlet, bore into the souls of everyone sitting around him. "I will not accept failure in this. To do so invites your own demise."

Everyone rose from the table, bowed once more in respect, then melted off into the shadows. Much had to be prepared for such a large expedition. Some of the best mouths had to be prepared for the message they were to carry. Information needed to be gathered so every member of the Velvet Gauntlet could merge seemlessly into society. Once all was ready they would head out in transport shuttles bound for other worlds.

Multiple shuttles were booked with multiple identities so that it would be virtually impossible to track their path. Currency was exchanged first on Mythrandir then elsewhere so that when they arrived at their destination, the currency already matched that of the nation. Legitimate businesses were established to mask their true intent.

All of this would take a considerable amount of time to pull together. But if there was thing that Crucible had learned while taking over one crime organization after another, it was that patience always paid off in the end. With the fingers of the Velvet Gauntlet out in the universe now, the organization could always move if the situation on Mythrandir grew dire. All that remained was to see how well other crime organizations would respond to their actions, or what worlds could easily be influenced. So many possibilities that it almost made him smile.

(This is open to anyone that is interested. You are free to link up crime rings with my own or crime lords can always fight one another if they start losing business. This also opens up my Citadel of Assassins for future reference should anyone ever need to hire such individuals. If you are interested in having one of the crime fingers in your nation, you are free to chose which one is there. Brothel, thieves, smugglers, drugs, or assassins.)

bumped

bump

Border controls have never really been the strong point of the Combined Goblin Collective. You would think that with most of space prevented from entering the Goblin Nebula by various forces mystical and unknown except for one small tunnel it would not be a difficult matter.

You would think wrong. Mostly because this is, after all, the Combined Goblin Collective, and Goblins...well, they don’t really have any strong points. Well, not unless there are pretty female Goblins about anyway, but we’ll try to keep this family friendly, and won’t go into that. Not that anyone sane would want to, this storyteller included.

Anyway, back on topic. The Combine, with its dozens of worlds both within and without the Nebula and its carelessness about who actually wandered in (as long as they didn’t upset the natural order of things too much), provides a rather convenient location for expanding criminal gangs. Mind you, since the “natural order of things” tends to include Goblin mob bosses who hire, say, Roktrolls, most get thrown out/sliced and diced/put into a pot as served in a bowl o’ brown before they do very much. Mind you, inside the Nebula there isn’t all that much crime. Well, not that much organised crime anyway, for two reasons. The first is that, as mentioned before, Goblins don’t really have strong points...hell; organisation would probably be described as a “soft and squidgy” point at best. The second reason is that the Goblin King’s secret police are rather good at ferreting out mob bosses – even those with Roktroll guards. Mind you, the Goblin King has access to rather more Roktrolls than your average wannabe-Tony Montana. Not to mention an army that dwarfs most populations.

Anyway, we’re getting off-track again. Let’s go and have a look at one of the worlds just outside the Gate into the Nebula, where certain ambitious non-Goblins have set up shop.


Owta Wurlds: Ravver Sunni Wurld

This world should, ideally, be called Hot Wurld. Or “Bluddi Hot Wurld”, or even “Damm My Skin Iz Meltin’ Wurld”. Unfortunately all these names were already taken, so the Goblin explorers had to settle with the bland “Ravver Sunni Wurld”, or RSUU (Goblins take the letter “double-you” a bit too literally sometimes) for short.

The “boss” in the main city on this world is a Cunnin’un Goblin, who goes by the moniker Da Sneeki Git under the misapprehension that it makes him sound “Kool”, “Klevva” and “Danjeroos”. It doesn’t really, but he is a Goblin remember? It is probably also worth remembering that he might not be the brightest spark in the light bulb factory, but that he does have some rather scary people working for him...

It was almost an epiphany of sorts as the first of the crime lord's operatives came to a planet that was entirely inhabited by...goblins. Never before had it occured to someone that goblins might have planets of their own with a government base already intact. Back on Mythrandir, the goblin population was all but hunted down with a few small tribes hiding in the shadows of Mythrandir's great mountains.

The second stunning realization came in the fact that these particular goblins seemed to fancy the worst living conditions possible. For the first stop of the expanding crime syndicate, their work was already cut out for them. Now all that remained was to figure out what goblins would be interested in for a proper business to be established.

Goblins on Mythrandir were scavangers by large and they stole anything that they believed would be useful. The tall slender man that arrived on the planet kept all of this in mind. He hoped that these goblins had enough materials on hand to get the establishment up but it was best to at least get all materials from the planet which would make it more difficult to trace the origins of the lone figure.

By the time a good portion of the blazing hot day had passed, he had paid a visit to anywhere that sold building materials and looked for hands that could help build his tavern. It would cost a great deal to get this tavern established but he was confident that it would bring in a hefty profit, though there were the orders to place back home. Every spirit that they could get a hold of would need to be shipped Ravver Sunni. As the man did his best to shelter his body from the inferno, he knew that were likely several taverns around and he would have to outdo them all. Liquor from all over the galaxy would be a start along with an effecient cooling unit to keep the ales cold and the tavern comfortable.

Along with his order, he asked that his brothers in the Velvet Gauntlet acquire some female goblins from home and have them shipped here as soon as possible. Twenty seemed like a satisfactory number including attire that would be sure to entice customers. Sadly it would take some time for them to arrive, needing to be trained and all, but patience would win the day here. All that remained was for Travis to get the bar built and start setting up customers. Then he would need to pay a visit to a crime boss that he had over heard was named, Da Sneeki Git.

The operative was not to know, the CGC not doing any significant trade with Mythrandir, but goblins and alcohol go hand in hand. Foreign liquor is the preserve of the wealthy, but everywhere can be seen the presence of Hopskotch Brewrees. Not only the single largest and wealthiest corporation in the Combine but thoroughly supported by the Crown (which owns some sixty percent of its stock) it is the only major alcohol producer in the combine (although there are plenty of small producers), fairly cheap, and produces drinks up to a thoroughly impressive 110% alcohol (don’t ask...the normal laws of physics don’t seem to apply to the greenskins).

Nebula-goblin society is far more complex than outsiders normally expected, with incredibly complicated social strata although while being impressively complex it is also very fluid and adapts quickly to newcomers and changing situations.

Building materials on Ravver Sunni are, perhaps unsurprisingly, rather expensive – it is a desert planet after all. As for the workforce, well, there is no shortage of volunteers (some of whom may be working for a certain goblin crime lord) although a smart employer would want to keep a close eye on his wallet and supplies.

Travis kept a wary eye to his account on the alotted expenses that the Velvet Gauntlet had allowed him to establish a business on this Goblin world. While the resources to build the start of his tavern were expensive, the fact that there was free labor to help construct his establishment made the price easier to cope with. Knowing how his own crime organization worked, Travis suspected that there might be some goblins in the work force that belonged a crime a lord, but there was no real way of knowing for sure.

Not that it bothered the cloaked human. Crime lords had to be dealt with in their own way and time. However, coming from a world where Goblins were typically held in contempt by society; Travis kept close watch on the supplies he ordered and where they went into construction. His pouch of money was never far from his side either. Even the stereotypes of Goblins from Mythrandir being thieves and scavangers, still followed him to this outworld.

While there was time to explore this world, Goblins could not work every minute of every day nor did he want them to, he took time to travel to the competition and see what the Goblins were fond of. High powered alcohol seemed to be their rage which was perfect given a few of the brews from Mythrandir were known to knock dwarves' out of their boots. With the constant competition though, Travis would need something to make his tavern stand out from the rest.

It was a dangerous game, to go up against the dominant companies and potentially anyone of the breweries owned by a crime boss, but if enough friends could be made then there was the possibility of security. If matters worsened considerably, there was always having an assassin remove the heads of the competition or he could pull out entirely. Neither option appealled to the man greatly.

Stikcing with his instinct on the female Goblin waitresses/prostitutes, Travis believed he would have a good start in setting a difference. The draw back would be that he would have to wait a few days until they could be adequately prepared for the task and shipped to this god foresaken planet. He knew he would lose more than he gained in those few days but it would have to play out until he could get his tavern fully stocked and prepared.

Once the building was fully erected, he would move the workers away and hire some off world help. Travis was not too trusting of any of the goblin folk around him and wanted to make sure that his plans were not leaked to any of his competitors. It would not be good business practice if his potential edge was used by everyone. Good liquor and good female goblin prostitutes were his tickets to stacking a claim on this desert world for now. He could only hope it would all pay off in the end. Because every Goblin needed a little companionship eventually, regardless of how powerful they were.

A courteous bump

tagging for entry

For the Myth citizens, getting a flight into New Dornalia was easy enough. Also, passing through security at LAX, as well as customs and the eyes of the Border Patrol, was easy enough with the measures the Velvet Syndicate had previously prepped.

Now, unlike the Goblins in this storyline, the New Dornalians run things more tightly. However, to quote an authority on crime in New Dornalia:

"New Dornalia itself is relatively free from petty and street crime. You can walk around Los Angeles without getting mugged, and besides the occasional kidnapping, like the Hollywood Affair that happened a while back, you generally can wander the streets of any Dornalian city rather safely. . .[h]owever, under this generally calm facade, gangsterism and gangs do exist. There are criminals for cops to catch. They may not be as overt as in the modern day USA or UK, but they certainly make a mess of things.

Why do they exist?

Existing criminal traditions and street gang rise patters aside, here's a Dornalian specific reason.

A thriving black market established during the Communist era never faded with the rise of the MacIntyre Administration. In the old days, New Dornalia, with the exception of a limited free market for farmers and licensed merchants, had an economy closed tighter than a coffin. People wanted things the Communists couldn't provide, and thus a market for smuggling developed. It also in some ways contributed to the fall of the old Nomenklatura--these boys wanted a cut too, for they wanted a taste of the good life, and the black marketeers could get them goods cheap.

When MacIntyre came, this black market didn't go away with the rise of Restrained Capitalism. Taxes in New Dornalia are ridiculously expensive; everything from comic books to liquor has some sort of tax on it, a leftover from the old Communist days, and MacIntyre's reforms and military spending ensured these would stay. Thus, the black market never left, providing an opportunity for existing gangsters newly integrated in Treaty of Los Angeles-incorporated lands or new gangs to do their jobs.

Here are their stories."

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Compton, Los Angeles County, Earth SSR

Compton, a suburb of Los Angeles, was not always known as a rough and tumble place. Once a paragon of 1950's suburbia, the area had long before the Apocalypse fallen into disrepute. Famed through "gangsta" rap in the pre-Apocalypse days as a haven for drug dealers, thugs--sharp-looking and otherwise--and despair, the suburb of Compton was a place where only those who were "working class" and just plain poor would live. In the Stalinist Era, it was the site of nasty housing projects, a virtual "no-go" zone where human minorities feuded with incoming gentegata catgirls, those women with cat ears and a prehensile tail with at most 10% animal features (keeping them under the UCLA Furry standards of 25% or more animal features). In the MacIntyreist Era, a more habitable place, but still rough.

The biggest gang of gentegata in this neighborhood--in particular, the whole of Los Angeles County and the bane of the LAPD's CRASH Squad--is the Abogadas de Ley Jacinta, more specifically the La Fundacion de Las Abogadas de Ley Jacinta por la Ciudad de Los Angeles, if you really wanna get technical. Named for a famed heroine in the past, they subverted her heroic image for their actions. Dressed in jackets and leather with their colors on the back, tattooed, and more subtle when the occasion called, they were toughs who traded in vice, mostly drugs and untaxed brothels outside government jurisdiction.

Since the Goblins were kind enough to introduce their leader, we'll introduce ours. Currently sitting with a group of associates in the backroom of her front business--a small restaurant--all associates duly armed with the best in Dornalian arms, the head honcho of this little band is a woman with good quality sunglasses, a cigarette jauntily hanging out of her mouth, an arrogant smirk on her face, a "Fonzie" jacket, and baby blue jeans. She's also got that characteristic gentegata pride, and as we see her now, she laughs, saying, "Oh please! Like I got time to deal with that shit! Damn cabron thinks he can fuck with me?! I'm Daniela Jacinta-chibi! The baddest mothafucka in the city!"

Cue the Velvets....

If there was information to gather on a nation that the Mythrandir Elders were interested in, there was little doubt that the Velvet Gauntlet had similar information. Word had reached the ears of the crime lord that a loose relationship had been established between the nations of Mythrandir and New Dornalia with regards to a conflict on an outter world on the edges of the realm. Only the Forge kept their information network in check which at times lead to more information than expected. In this case, Crucible had come to the logical conclusion of military intervention in teaming up of the two nations in some form or another.

With a vein established to a possible other front, operatives were sent off to seek out open markets for the plundering of the vulnerable and weak. The universe was ripe for the plucking if only the Velvet Gauntlet would stretch forth and take what could be theirs. But like most things, patience was of the most important virtue.

Men posing as tourists were sent ahead to gather as much information on culture and the daily lives of the people of New Dornalia as possible. Fortunate for them that their leader was so farsighted as the typical garb of a Myth citizen would have stood out in the worlds of New Dornalia. Clothing had to be bought that suited the atmosphere along with real estate for a future business.

Now with the timing right, the true harvester moved into position. Obtaining all the legal liscensing and permits that were required, a small business was established in a village named Compton with the intent of cashing checks for the citizenry at a slight fee while also making a few loans on the side. Rates and fees of other businesses had been researched and the man running his business made sure that theirs was just slightly lower than the competitions'.

Adding more to the front of a legitimate business, most of the employees were citizens from the outlying area that had gone through background checks and interviews. As soon as everything was stabilized, eyes and ears went out through the streets listening for any competing gangs that might pose a potential threat. One name continued to reach the man's ears over and over again.

Figuring that there had been enough of a time lapse since his business had been established, Mark informed his secretary that he would be heading out for lunch. Emolating the picutre of what New Dornalia men should look like, Mark slicked back his raven black hair pulled on a pair of dark sun glasses and grabbed his suit coat. Adjusting his tie, the business man slung the coat over his shoulder and headed out to a little restaurant on the other side of town.

The building was a bit on the run-down side though it matched the rest of the feeling of this end of town which spoke volumes to the trained assasin. Pushing the door open to the little Tex-Mes, Mark wiped a small bead of sweat from his brow. Off to the side were a group of creatures that looked to be a cross between a cat and a woman. Certainly it had to be one of the more exotic creatures on this world which took him by surprise even though his steps never slowed as he took a booth in the back corner. He made a mental note to have a discussion with his informants to do a better job in translating the languages.

For the time being, the firmly built man draped his coat over the back of his seat and ordered a water from the waitress. Mark kept his focus on the paper he was reading while a trained ear listened to their conversation. Taking a pen from his collared shirt pocket, he worked on scribbling some notes on anything important that came from the profane of the catgirl as he looked to be working the crossword puzzle.

The building was a bit on the run-down side though it matched the rest of the feeling of this end of town which spoke volumes to the trained assasin. Pushing the door open to the little Tex-Mes, Mark wiped a small bead of sweat from his brow. Off to the side were a group of creatures that looked to be a cross between a cat and a woman. Certainly it had to be one of the more exotic creatures on this world which took him by surprise even though his steps never slowed as he took a booth in the back corner. He made a mental note to have a discussion with his informants to do a better job in translating the languages.

For the time being, the firmly built man draped his coat over the back of his seat and ordered a water from the waitress. Mark kept his focus on the paper he was reading while a trained ear listened to their conversation. Taking a pen from his collared shirt pocket, he worked on scribbling some notes on anything important that came from the profane of the catgirl as he looked to be working the crossword puzzle.

The waitress then walked to the group, and greeted Daniela with some chattering in machine gun Spanish. "Boss, we got a customer out front. He don't look like a regular," she said, clearly worried about the man in a suit outside.

At this, Daniela stopped laughing and replied in turn, "So? The fuck does he look like? Santa Claus?" She then began pointing to herself, as she said, "Neechan, you gotta tell me more." Daniela always did so when asking for more information, and she did so with a skeptical, sort of brash look.

"He's some sharplooking douchebag in a suit. Tie. Slickbacked hair, black--that's all I saw, boss!" the frightened Catgirl swore, waving her hands frantically.

Daniela sighed, and took another drag on her cigarette, before blowing it in her subordinate's face to the crude glee of the others. She then said to the waitress, as she got up and shook her head, "Alright. If its that crucial, I'll go out and see him, okay? I'll put your little head to rest, neechan." She then motioned for two of her associates to come with her, and they got up, ensuring their gunbelts were packed with dual railpistols tucked subtly, out of sight and so as to not make a bulge on their leather jackets. Daniela herself had every gangster's favorite pistol, a Desert Eagle packed into an underwear holster.

After shooing the waitress to wait on another group, Daniela and her people left the backroom. Whilst her associates waited at a nearby booth, Daniela approached Mark, snagging a notepad used for taking orders. She then said, in English that displayed a rough Mexican (with a slight hint of Filipino) accent, "What can I get for you today?" standing straight up and putting her pen to the pad. As she got closer to Mark, her "sixth sense"--that gentegata quality akin to Peter Parker's spider sense that always seemed to provide early warning inherent in many, if not all--seemed to tingle. Who was this guy?

Mark drifted an eye up from his paper and followed the waitress over to his table. Judging by the way this cat-woman shooed away the other waitress and was followed by another group of similar catlike creatures, Mark held little doubt in his mind that this woman was anything but a waitress. Her walk was not of someone who had been working on their feet all day but of a person that held every confidence in the world.

As she approached, the assasin turned businessman folded up his newspaper and smiled up at the woman as innocently as could be. Mark double clicked his pen to retract the ink quil though unbeknownst to anyone else, the second click slid the latch into place on a razor thin blade. The pen travelled from his hand to his shirt pocket, only a quick twist and click away.

"What is today's special?" His voice was even but slightly pleasant as he silently took in his waitress. Everything from the way she breathed to how she gripped the pen, was soaked in through a single glance and processed in what potential threat she would be.

He crossed his legs nonchalantly and felt the thin wire hidden within his polished shoes. Two finger loops were at the ready should he ever need them as Mark relaxed his posture.

Mark drifted an eye up from his paper and followed the waitress over to his table. Judging by the way this cat-woman shooed away the other waitress and was followed by another group of similar catlike creatures, Mark held little doubt in his mind that this woman was anything but a waitress. Her walk was not of someone who had been working on their feet all day but of a person that held every confidence in the world.

As she approached, the assasin turned businessman folded up his newspaper and smiled up at the woman as innocently as could be. Mark double clicked his pen to retract the ink quil though unbeknownst to anyone else, the second click slid the latch into place on a razor thin blade. The pen travelled from his hand to his shirt pocket, only a quick twist and click away.

"What is today's special?" His voice was even but slightly pleasant as he silently took in his waitress. Everything from the way she breathed to how she gripped the pen, was soaked in through a single glance and processed in what potential threat she would be.

He crossed his legs nonchalantly and felt the thin wire hidden within his polished shoes. Two finger loops were at the ready should he ever need them as Mark relaxed his posture.

Daniela, in turn, looked at this man and did her own "sizing up." She didn't need her sixth sense to sense that this man was definetly somebody important. Or somebody threatening. Of course, she merely nibbled on her cigarette-in-corner-of-mouth and said, with a smile and monotone, "Today's special is tortilla soup with chicken, with a side of taquitos or a chimichanga. Small bowl is five bucks. Big bowl is seven. Comes with free refills on the house, except for booze." She then frowned and said, "Booze is extra. You interested?"

She made several mental notes about this man. For one, not many well-dressed men came into her little hole in the wall, the Taco Palace. Yet this guy was impeccably dressed. Slickbacked hair, good suit--this guy was either some lost gaijin, a policia, or worse--a rival gangster. Possibly one of the white boy Mafias that occasionally wanted to try and mess with her. Didn't they know already she was tougher than they were?

She then casually and nonchalantly, deciding to act on her hunch, asked "You know, we don't get many suits around here, and even fewer gaijin. You do business downtown?"

Mark adjusted his glasses with a slight smile. The woman was biting which meant that his informant would get to live one more day if this paid off. For now, he had to keep up the charade to see where her line of questioning would lead. If he was fortunate, and the woman unskilled, then he would learn a great deal about her through simple conversation.

If nothing else, then he would have at least found a worthy opponent in the gift of gab. As for Mark, he was not unprepared for the line of questioning which would have been logical from any intelligent being.

"I had heard as much but I prefer to give my business to the privately owned establishments. Sometimes the best food comes from the smallest kitchen. As for my profession, I run a small financial firm on the other end of Compton. Perhaps you've seen it, Checks'n'Cashing. Do you make your way out there at all?"

If nothing else, then he would have at least found a worthy opponent in the gift of gab. As for Mark, he was not unprepared for the line of questioning which would have been logical from any intelligent being.

"I had heard as much but I prefer to give my business to the privately owned establishments. Sometimes the best food comes from the smallest kitchen. As for my profession, I run a small financial firm on the other end of Compton. Perhaps you've seen it, Checks'n'Cashing. Do you make your way out there at all?"

"A foodie, I see. Well, we don't do a bad job here at the Taco Palace. Beats the Teri Palace. Maricons charged me twenty bucks for a greasy, half done bowl of rice with chicken barely covered in sauce." She then angrily wrote down the order and her observations, and angrily tore the paper, mumbling, "Lousy dumbfucks." She didn't mention the fact that her gang worked over the restaurant, causing its staff to suffer some unfortunate "accidents" involving staged hit-and-run accidents, planted drugs and a phonecall to LAPD Narcotics, and an outright fire that claimed six patrons and a delivery truck, as well as the whole restaurant.

She then wrote down his business. The "Checks'n'Cashing." Daniela muttered as she said, "Yeah, some of my patrons go there--not me personally, I use the big banks downtown."

She then begins musing about her clientele.

"Ya see, a lot of these working class folks, they get government assistance. Great Father MacIntyre, out in downtown--his government gives out checks for food, raising kids, free medical, the whole nine yards. Not that my people needed it in the old days. Us gentegata, we just fended for ourselves on the Southwest. Abuela likes to talk about those days. You're helpin' them out for a fee....yup."

Daniela then asked, somewhat skeptically, "Which brings me to the question--what inspired you to put your check cashin' shop here? There were other places around the great city of Los Angeles you could have gone. Watts. Lynwood. Hawthorne, East LA, Western La Mirada--not to criticize you, but this is a pretty rough place."

She then smiled half-jokingly, saying, as she put her pad and her hand on her hip, and made eye contact with Mark, "I mean, there's gangsters here. Ya dig?"

Mark feigned mild surprise at the mention of gangsters in the region though he already knew this to be true from his own informants. While the cat-girl went on about all she knew concerning the area and other businesses, the assasin took careful notes about all that she let on with. It sounded as if there was a mild hostility in her voice to other businesses which possibly were run by other gangs or just businesses that she did not appreciate competing with her own.

"We are a new firm starting fresh. If we had started business in other towns, there would have been more competition and our ability to establish a foothold in the market would have been small. Here we are able to establish a reputation and meet the needs of the people without putting up with too much interference from other businesses.

I was warned that this was a rough area but we seem to be left alone for the moment. Gangsters are not too much of a concern for us for the moment so long as we take the proper precautions and don't leave ourselves vulnerable. In my opinion it is no different than any other neighborhood. If you open yourself up to theft, then you deserve it for being lax on your surroundings. The weak have no place in the business world by our standards."

Mark took a moment to adjust his sunglasses then shook himself as if he coming to a realization that he had forgotten something. "Sorry to keep rattling on like this, I'm sure you have enough to do without listening to me. That and I'll be late reporting back to the office. I'll take today's special if it's still available."

Mark feigned mild surprise at the mention of gangsters in the region though he already knew this to be true from his own informants. While the cat-girl went on about all she knew concerning the area and other businesses, the assasin took careful notes about all that she let on with. It sounded as if there was a mild hostility in her voice to other businesses which possibly were run by other gangs or just businesses that she did not appreciate competing with her own.

"We are a new firm starting fresh. If we had started business in other towns, there would have been more competition and our ability to establish a foothold in the market would have been small. Here we are able to establish a reputation and meet the needs of the people without putting up with too much interference from other businesses.

I was warned that this was a rough area but we seem to be left alone for the moment. Gangsters are not too much of a concern for us for the moment so long as we take the proper precautions and don't leave ourselves vulnerable. In my opinion it is no different than any other neighborhood. If you open yourself up to theft, then you deserve it for being lax on your surroundings. The weak have no place in the business world by our standards."

Mark took a moment to adjust his sunglasses then shook himself as if he coming to a realization that he had forgotten something. "Sorry to keep rattling on like this, I'm sure you have enough to do without listening to me. That and I'll be late reporting back to the office. I'll take today's special if it's still available."

"'Our' standards? This guy must definetly be part of something bigger," Daniela thought as she marked the order as complete. She listened to the man intently, and realized that her own self-confidence-cum-arrogance and intolerance for the opposition--which was probably less than what Mark thought, as she tended to let other businesses thrive so long as they paid them a cut of profits or collaborated with them in some way--was being matched with a quiet strength, one that said, "Don't fuck with me." Whoever he worked for was obviously strong in their own way, or at least determined and capable of exercising great endurance.

She then smiled and said, musing over how to best deal with this man, "Well, I suppose you're just the type for this neighborhood then; you gotta have a thick skin to live here--why do you think I'm still cooking food here with my staff?" Chuckling, she then asks about the order, "For the special, is it to go, or for here? You seem in a bit of a hurry, but....lunch is lunch, and food should be savored, and you seem like a well cultured man of taste. Like my abuela used to say."

Mark measured the silence that passed between them and could see that she was contemplating something of importance. He was not sure as to what her concern was as he was no mind reader only a reader of emotions and postures. Still he was left to surmise that she was perhaps juding him personally, the business that he claimed to be working for, or something more personal that she had a claim in for her own.

The assassin wondered at how much more information he could gather by staying in the restaurant without becoming a nuissance. "I see we are not so different then, simply in a different business."

With the question before him on whether or not to stay or go, he knew he had to come to a decision quickly. "Wise words indeed. There is no sense to rush in life when there are so many moments to live for today. You never know when the flames of your life will be snuffed out."

Mark finished the last words with a small smile. "Might as well live every moment to the fullest since you never know when that time might come." Obviously not terribly concerned if she took it for a veilled threat or just sound advice.

Mark measured the silence that passed between them and could see that she was contemplating something of importance. He was not sure as to what her concern was as he was no mind reader only a reader of emotions and postures. Still he was left to surmise that she was perhaps juding him personally, the business that he claimed to be working for, or something more personal that she had a claim in for her own.

The assassin wondered at how much more information he could gather by staying in the restaurant without becoming a nuissance. "I see we are not so different then, simply in a different business."

With the question before him on whether or not to stay or go, he knew he had to come to a decision quickly. "Wise words indeed. There is no sense to rush in life when there are so many moments to live for today. You never know when the flames of your life will be snuffed out."

Mark finished the last words with a small smile. "Might as well live every moment to the fullest since you never know when that time might come." Obviously not terribly concerned if she took it for a veilled threat or just sound advice.

Daniela took the last words for what they were--a sly mixture of good advice and a veiled threat to avoid interfering with his people. Daniela only replied back, "Good advice" with a sly grin. She then forcefully tore the order ticket off of the pad, keeping eye contact and that grin, perhaps to recapitulate and broadcast Mark's lesson back at him in her own little way.

Walking into the kitchen to post the order and shouting at her staff to get busy, Daniela walked back into the backroom where she formerly was with the others. Lighting up another cigarette, she began giving her assessment of the strange man the waitress was so scared about before, setting off a whole conversation in that peculiar form of machinegun Spanish.

"I tell you, that gaijin out there is something. He comes in, orders the special, and talks really bold and full of himself. He's a strange one, for sure. Then again, gaijin men did always have too much testosterone in their systems."

The others nod, muttering, "Hear, hear." Daniela then goes on. She talks of the last statement, how "that sharplooking fuck mused about living life, you never know how it will dissapear--or something like that. Bitch didn't know I live my life like that always. Anyway, you know what I do? I tear off the ticket in front of him and give him a sly grin and a look." She smiles, and imitates her motions comically to the amusement of the others.

One of the others says with undisguised sarcasm mixed with a tinge of contempt, "Did he try to say how pretty you were, or whistle, or try and come on to you? You know how these prettyboys in suits are. Always looking for some tail in the wrong places!"

Daniela waves her hand and goes, "Nah. He just said he worked--no, owned the Checks'n'Cashing down the street. The place where a lot of our customers go and get their checks cashed without messing with the banks? Ya dig?"

"I dig, I dig. I'm not a fuckin' retard," the person replied with a scoffing tone. The woman then turned to Daniela and said, "What now?"

Daniela replied, counting on her fingers as she spoke, "Well, it's simple enough. We collect information about this Checks'n'Cashing. We send people over there to do transactions. We observe the employees. We ask questions. Simple. At an opportune time, we then offer our services to them to ease processing, protect their facility....you get it."

The bell and a cry of "Order up!" rang out, as Daniela thought out loud, "I could also talk with him some more. It never hurts to utilize the need to talk." She then picks up the order, and brings it to Mark's place, laying it diligently in front of him before pulling up a chair and switching back to English and saying, "May I sit down? I figured we could talk as one businessperson to another."

Mark smiled genuinely back at the woman as she walked off to put his order into the cooks. Once she was gone, the man picked his paper up once more and went back to his crossword puzzle. There was a bit more that he needed to note, particularly the general appearance of the cat-woman that appeared to be the leader of the potential rival organization. It was unknown how similar these creatures could appear so the assassin took it upon himself to note relative height, weight, eye and hair color, as well as her overall mannerisms.

He wasn't surprised to see her walking back with a tray laden with food. Mark promptly folded his paper up once more and stowed it by his side and returned his pen to its place in his shirt pocket. The food was layed out before him and it was his first time seeing the exotic cuisine as he had never had a Tex-Mex meal before, wholly unknown to Mythrandir.

While he was not confident in the taste, Mark smiled as if the food smelled delicious and something he ate on a regular basis. As he picked up his utensils to eat, his ears perked up at the fake waitress's desire to sit. Thinking back, Mark recalled that he still had the small razor blade in his pen close by if he needed it for any reason.

"I can only imagine how tired your feet must be from working all day. You are welcome to sit if for no other reason than to relax. What would you like to discuss?"

Mark smiled genuinely back at the woman as she walked off to put his order into the cooks. Once she was gone, the man picked his paper up once more and went back to his crossword puzzle. There was a bit more that he needed to note, particularly the general appearance of the cat-woman that appeared to be the leader of the potential rival organization. It was unknown how similar these creatures could appear so the assassin took it upon himself to note relative height, weight, eye and fur color, as well as her overall mannerisms.

He wasn't surprised to see her walking back with a tray laden with food. Mark promptly folded his paper up once more and stowed it by his side and returned his pen to its place in his shirt pocket. The food was layed out before him and it was his first time seeing the exotic cuisine as he had never had a Tex-Mex meal before, wholly unknown to Mythrandir.

While he was not confident in the taste, Mark smiled as if the food smelled delicious and something he ate on a regular basis. As he picked up his utensils to eat, his ears perked up at the fake waitress's desire to sit. Thinking back, Mark recalled that he still had the small razor blade in his pen close by if he needed it for any reason.

"I can only imagine how tired your feet must be from working all day. You are welcome to sit if for no other reason than to relax. What would you like to discuss?"

OOC: Apologies, but they're not furries, not by a long shot. This might be a better picture of what you're looking at: http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v630/Senor_Nb3/109.jpg

IC:

Daniela sat down and folded her hands, saying, "Well, I'm actually the manager of this little place. But, I do handle orders occasionally. I'm a hands-on sort of manager, so I do a lot of legwork to ensure this place stays afloat." She then added, "Especially in a neighborhood like this."

Daniela then smiled and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, marked "Peoples Gold," and opened it up. As she did so, she spoke about, "Well, I'd like to talk about mutual burdens. You spoke earlier, though not with these words, of needing a thick skin to stay afloat in this world, and how we're not that different." She then offered the pack to Mark, saying, "You smoke?"

As the woman took a seat across from Mark, he started to eat the meal in front of him. It was definantly a new taste for the Myth, one that he had a terrible time attempting to describe in his mind. There was simply nothing like it in all of Mythrandir. The assassin had to wonder if he had been foolish to fall to poison on his first encounter with another criminal organization on this planet.

He felt no immediate effects in his system which was a good sign unless the poison was slow acting. Mark continued to eat his food as if nothing was wrong as he listened to the cat-girl talk about her job as manager of the restaurant, nodding to show that he was listening to every word he said. If there was poison in the food, he would have one of his physicians locate it to duplicate the compound, then destroy it.

His meal was slow to deplete though of one in his frame, it looked as if he did not often partake in dishes of this type. Still he continued his meal while he listened.

"Well yes, the business world is not meant for the faint of heart."

Mark went back to his meal until he was offered a cigarette. "Ah no thank you. So what burdens do you have that you would like to speak of?"

As the woman took a seat across from Mark, he started to eat the meal in front of him. It was definantly a new taste for the Myth, one that he had a terrible time attempting to describe in his mind. There was simply nothing like it in all of Mythrandir. The assassin had to wonder if he had been foolish to fall to poison on his first encounter with another criminal organization on this planet.

He felt no immediate effects in his system which was a good sign unless the poison was slow acting. Mark continued to eat his food as if nothing was wrong as he listened to the cat-girl talk about her job as manager of the restaurant, nodding to show that he was listening to every word he said. If there was poison in the food, he would have one of his physicians locate it to duplicate the compound, then destroy it.

His meal was slow to deplete though of one in his frame, it looked as if he did not often partake in dishes of this type. Still he continued his meal while he listened.

"Well yes, the business world is not meant for the faint of heart."

Mark went back to his meal until he was offered a cigarette. "Ah no thank you. So what burdens do you have that you would like to speak of?"

Daniela observed him as he ate his food. He was definetly what was in "Catgirl Spanish," (as the locals called the tongue of Daniela's people) a "gaijin" (pronounced with a distinct "ch" sound where the "j" is). He definetly did not eat spicy food, and he didn't eat Tex-Mex. Then again, not many of his like usually ventured here; people usually went to cleaner, less rough and tumble places for their chimichanga fix.

When he asked about what she meant by the word "burdens," Daniela leaned back and lit up her cigarette. Clenching it jauntily like she was wont to do in her teeth, she gave a smirk and said, "The mutual dangers of the business world. Paying taxes, for instance. Doesn't it suck that the government takes so damn much in tax money, and gives little back?"

She then leaned back and began fretting about all the taxes she paid. (and some she admittedly did not pay, by hook and by crook. Not that Mark needed to find out about it now; she needed to stay in character.)

"I mean, last year, I pay taxes for MacIntyre's Social Safety Net of all sorts, plus the city taxes and the State of California taxes. Social Security Pensions, People's Health Service--that's the healthcare the government gives out, both public and private groups--sales tax, income tax, electricity bill, water bill, food purchase tax, workers' comp tax--ay! So many taxes. It's a wonder people have enough left over to spend. And believe you and me, people actually do have money to spend."

She then took the cigarette out of her mouth and blew smoke out to the side in a somewhat dignified manner, before continuing with the complaint of any shopkeeper in a bad neighborhood. Naturally, she dropped the details relating to her involvement in the Ley Jacinta.

"There's also the human taxes too. See, they've got two, no, three gangs here that thrive among the locals. Two are locked in conflict. They're the Aztlan Rangers, and the 14th Street Ballas. Two groups that through internicine strife and mergers now prey upon the working class heroes and the downright poor of this neighborhood--the people who go to my restaurant and your check cashing shop. They shake down businesses, sell drugs and smuggle items in tax free in defiance of the law. Of course, they're only imitating their benefactors, the Italian Mafia and the Al-Juhziz Organization--who use them as drug dealers and proxy armies respectively to play out their rivalries.

You know what those guys tried to do to me? Both of them--not at the same time of course--come into this shop, and point guns at my staff, and ask for the money in the register. Thank the Virgin I had my Lasgun, and my cashier got the shotgun out. Otherwise we would never have survived that."

She then went, growing serious, "I hope you have something prepared for all those taxes, amigo." Daniela then brightened a little, and said, "If you don't, I do know people who can help you when tax time comes--as one businessperson to another. After all, I am still in business; they're the people I hired to protect my shop after those thugs came in."

Mark listened intently as the restaurant manager informed him of the multiple taxes that New Dornalia seemed to be acclaimed for and he had come to see that there was an excessive number of taxes. Still, the Velvet Gauntlet had a large number of resources to help ease the tax burden for the time being. Once the his true market gained a foothold on this planet, taxes would no longer be a problem. For now, he had to suffer through them like every other avergae businessman.

News of other rival gangs in the area was an interest to him. If there were other crime lords in the vacinity that had no respect for the code of the thieves, then they would have to be dealt with. At the same time, they would send a message to the other crime syndicates that the Velvet Gauntlet was not to be disturbed. The names of the so called gangs were stored away in his memory to be pulled back at a later time.

One more interesting piece of information was how armed the manager and her clerks were. It spoke volumes to how prepared they were for any eventuallity.

"We have no resources for the moment to keep the tax collector at bay until our business can take hold. Hopefully once we begin our expansion, taxes should no longer be much of a concern. As for ruffians, so far we have been lucky enough not to have been visited by them. I imagine our security will be more than adequate to deal with the likes of them though.

I am surprised the local police have not put a stop to all of it."

Mark wasn't overally concerned. He simply wanted to gauge how much enforcement he could expect from the local authorities and how far he could stretch his own hand before someone stopped him.

Mark listened intently as the restaurant manager informed him of the multiple taxes that New Dornalia seemed to be acclaimed for and he had come to see that there was an excessive number of taxes. Still, the Velvet Gauntlet had a large number of resources to help ease the tax burden for the time being. Once the his true market gained a foothold on this planet, taxes would no longer be a problem. For now, he had to suffer through them like every other avergae businessman.

News of other rival gangs in the area was an interest to him. If there were other crime lords in the vacinity that had no respect for the code of the thieves, then they would have to be dealt with. At the same time, they would send a message to the other crime syndicates that the Velvet Gauntlet was not to be disturbed. The names of the so called gangs were stored away in his memory to be pulled back at a later time.

One more interesting piece of information was how armed the manager and her clerks were. It spoke volumes to how prepared they were for any eventuallity.

"We have no resources for the moment to keep the tax collector at bay until our business can take hold. Hopefully once we begin our expansion, taxes should no longer be much of a concern. As for ruffians, so far we have been lucky enough not to have been visited by them. I imagine our security will be more than adequate to deal with the likes of them though.

I am surprised the local police have not put a stop to all of it."

Mark wasn't overally concerned. He simply wanted to gauge how much enforcement he could expect from the local authorities and how far he could stretch his own hand before someone stopped him.

Daniela replied, with a grin "Well, the cops....they're made of sterner stuff than they used to be. Of course, some of the beat cops can be persuaded by the local gangs with threats or payoffs to look the other way. The real nasties are LAPD CRASH--Community Resources Against Street Hoodlums. I don't remember allowing that, but...well, let's just say they've been known to infltrate gangs and start wars to thin out the population of gangsters, along with committing assasinations and the occasional arrest. They also tend to be equal opportunity killers." Her tone hinted that LAPD CRASH tended to generally stomp on anybody who was a gangster--as well as their associates. Fitting, since she was one.

Hearing of Mark's lack of resources to deal with the tax situation, she said, "Like I said, I know people who can ease them." Daniela smiles, and keeps talking, putting her cigarette out in the tray and then lighting up another. "The black market is always an option here, as long as taxes are high and needs exist." Puffing, she blows off to the side and then goes, "That third gang I mentioned, I know people that rely on them. Heard of the Ley Jacinta?" She smiles at Mark, hiding the true extent of her involvement with the Ley Jacinta behind a shopkeepers' satisfaction at good service.

Finishing up his meal, Mark listened as the woman expanded on her knowledge of law enforcement of the area. Most of them sounded little better than gangs themselves, only with the support of the approved government establishment. Such a combination could pose a threat though there was nothing for the CRASH squad to suspect of Mark's own small establishment. That did not descredit them from becoming a nuissance in the future though.

Smiling inwardly as he caught on to this cat-woman believing that he had little monetary support to ease the taxes of the land, Mark was tipped off to what was most profitable. A black market was often a lucrative prospect but it all depended on what someone could bring to the market at a reasonable price. "I doubt the black market is anything for a small check cashing business like mine. Hardly anything there to offer but I am sure we will manage just fine."

Done with his meal, Mark moved the plate aside and chased it down with a healthy gulp of his water. "I have heard rumors of them though only in passing from an employee or customers. Why?"

Finishing up his meal, Mark listened as the woman expanded on her knowledge of law enforcement of the area. Most of them sounded little better than gangs themselves, only with the support of the approved government establishment. Such a combination could pose a threat though there was nothing for the CRASH squad to suspect of Mark's own small establishment. That did not descredit them from becoming a nuissance in the future though.

Smiling inwardly as he caught on to this cat-woman believing that he had little monetary support to ease the taxes of the land, Mark was tipped off to what was most profitable. A black market was often a lucrative prospect but it all depended on what someone could bring to the market at a reasonable price. "I doubt the black market is anything for a small check cashing business like mine. Hardly anything there to offer but I am sure we will manage just fine."

Done with his meal, Mark moved the plate aside and chased it down with a healthy gulp of his water. "I have heard rumors of them though only in passing from an employee or customers. Why?"

"Oh, nothing. Just that they've proven helpful in the past." Daniela takes another drag on her cigarette, and looks thoughtfully out of the window to her neighborhood. Literally--her neighborhood. "I mean....the cops are good, don't get me wrong. But the Ley Jacinta can be a bit more convienent, ya dig?"

Daniela then considered his small check bit, and decided not to press the issue. Besides, he'd have business soon enough, with Daniela's men going there to case the place out with their checks to be cashed and their eyes open. She pretended to take this outsider's word, but she wanted to make sure he was just another check cashing business serving the working class, instead of something else. Not that the something else was a problem, if she could get a deal.

She then looked at the clock and said, motioning for the waitress to take the plates, "Right. As a favor from one businessperson to another, I'm giving you this meal half-off. No, free! Consider it a welcoming gift from me to the neighborhood."

"I think I get your meaning."

Mark scooped up his glass and finished his water in one final gulp before handing it over to the waitress to collect. Thus far the visit had been productive and he was fairly confident that he had caught the eye of the cat-woman which would no doubt warrant a visit. He held little reservation that it would be her. Such insignificant tasks would never fall to a leader of any criminal organization. Mark himself simply wanted to initiate contact first to catch them off guard and see what information he could gleam alone.

No doubt they would find that his business was entirely legitimate without a hint shady tactics being conducted on the outside. Of course it was unlikely that any of her associates would find themselves in private meetings with Mark or anyone of his men that had accompanied him from Mythrandir. It was there in his personal office that real business was conducted as a locater of exotic items, whatever that might be.

The assassin dabbed the napkin at the edges of his mouth to wipe away any signs of his meal and smiled at Daniela across the table. "I thank you for the meal."

He scooped up his newspaper so as to not leave any evidence behind. Reaching down into his pockets, Mark pulled a billfold out and produced a decent tip that would have been beyond a waitress's tips for an evening. "For the service and the conversation. Perhaps we can talk again when you are not on the clock."

Mark bowed politely and glided passed the manager without pause. Still, being an assassin he was quick with his hands. Some time after Daniela was finished pretending to be a waitress, she would find a small business card in her pocket that he had sent gliding from inside his shirt sleeve to her pouch in the apron.

On one side the card was plain white with an iron fist stamped into its center with purple outlining. Flipping the card on its reverse side with a simple hand written note that said only two words. Velvet Gauntlet.

Once Mark was outside the restaurant and amidst the crowd of people that lived in the city, a number of his informants passed by him handing off information as they brushed his shoulder or "accidently" bumped into him. As the exchange continued up to the office of his business, Mark passed off a list of new gangs he had discovered today and wanted to know as much about them as possible. If there was to be a gang war, then he wanted to know everything there was to know about them. The last of his messages passed off sent out a request to learn more about the Ley Jacinta. No doubt Daniela would see a small, almost undetectable, surge in customers at her establishment.

On one side the card was plain white with an iron fist stamped into its center with purple outlining. Flipping the card on its reverse side with a simple hand written note that said only two words. Velvet Gauntlet.

Once Mark was outside the restaurant and amidst the crowd of people that lived in the city, a number of his informants passed by him handing off information as they brushed his shoulder or "accidently" bumped into him. As the exchange continued up to the office of his business, Mark passed off a list of new gangs he had discovered today and wanted to know as much about them as possible. If there was to be a gang war, then he wanted to know everything there was to know about them. The last of his messages passed off sent out a request to learn more about the Ley Jacinta. No doubt Daniela would see a small, almost undetectable, surge in customers at her establishment.

Daniela found the card in her pocket, and found herself gazing wide at it. Her suspicions were confirmed; this outsider was definetly part of something big. She frowned at it, and mumbled the words to herself. "Vel...vet...gauhnt....let...." Stroking her chin, she found her curiosity piqued. These people were definetly outsiders, but how dangerous were they? And could they be turned into allies? The man who seemed to pass her the card looked friendly enough, but who knew what he really could do.

She immediately hung up the Out to Lunch sign and called in her higherups to discuss the card. Meeting in the smoky backroom that had playing cards and piles of money, she sat everyone down and passed the card around. An uproar began to emerge, and the various catgirls could barely keep their inside voices as they became concerned. One or two looked angry, one or two looked scared, and another two had a look of opportunism.

“Fucking gaichin! He wants to steal our shit! It’s obvious its his way of saying ‘Sup kitties, we’re gonna fuck you in the ass!’”

“Nah, nah. He didn’t say shit! It’s just a damn card! How do you know it’s him!?”

“Fuck you! He comes in there with that charm, those good looks…..then that card…..”

Daniela then pulled out a small balpeen hammer she used as a gavel and banged it, along with cries of “Shut up!” The others went silent, and said, “Alright, here’s what we do. That dude runs a check cashing shop, yeah? We go simply get out and get people to cash checks at his shop. We do what we said we would do, and we case the place out. We don’t run. We can’t let a little card scare us. Fucking pansies, by the Virgin.”

The others nodded. Daniela had a way, like most good Dornalian orators, of marshaling people to action with mere words.

“Specifically, we get people to cash their checks at the Checks’n’cashing shop. Do a little free advertising for them among our members and tell them to report what they see. Also, I’ll have Magdalena ask questions about the ‘Velvet Gauntlet.’ If they’re another gang, I wanna know what they’re about. Also, be on the lookout for newbies. Chat them up. They’re not a regular customer, you get real friendly with them.”

They nodded, and then broke off to do their assigned tasks. The Out to Lunch sign was put away, and customers were allowed in.

Just as the restaurant would see a small spike in business, so would the Check shop, as gang members and civilians alike began going to the shop to cash checks. Acting under orders, they were staking it out, looking for vulnerabilities, strengths, weakness, etc.—all to evaluate their new neighbor. The new wave, meanwhile, would generally pass with naught but incessant questions about where these new people came from, etc. Nothing would appear especially alarming to the Ley, but they would try to ferret out the newbies.

As for the persons trying to get more information about the Ley Jacinta Gang, locals would speak of it in tones alternately hushed, reverent and irritated. These would naturally vary depending on the person being asked. Those asked who lived on the gentegata side of Compton spoke of the Ley with a mixture of resignation and reverence; emotions best described as “We can’t do anything about them, and besides, they’ve been good to us.”

The human sides of Compton would be different, naturally. To those of Hispanic extraction, the name invoked old hatreds, for Latin Americans of all kinds had battled gentegata over and over in the past, and still regarded them as misshapen parodies of people (especially Mexican people) inclined towards indiscriminate murder. Those who tried to get info from these sorts would be met with racial epithets and mutterings of “damn kittens who should know their place.” To the other working class poor in Compton, white and black, there was an entire range of reactions and descriptions, from the irritated to the ambivalent to the appreciative.

Things would get murkier after that. Those from the Velvet Gauntlet who asked about Daniela’s gang just using the Words “Ley Jacinta” would be greeted with laughter or shudders, for as many explained, the words also meant a tradition of summary execution of opposition persons pioneered by Jacinta the Bold, one of the gentegata people’s greatest warlords. Gang members who openly wore colors would generally correct those who asked them, pointing out they were not a gang, and that they were correctly named the “Fundacion.” In the fashion of the Hells Angels and other sorts of coverups, they painted themselves as a group endorsing ethnic and feminist pride, which just happened to do a lot of what they dubbed “sportshooting” and “motoring” to justify their heavy armaments. Of course, the locals were a bit wiser than that, but nobody said anything.

As for Magdalena, she went to the usual haunts to get info. Dives around Compton became frequented for tips from self-styled “urban informers,” as were other places too, such as the ever popular docks and the LAPD Headquarters.
So far, the only things she could find about the Velvet Gauntlet were all rumors and shadows. That they were some group from somewhere, most likely a gang, and that they may have been Myth, but only possibly as they were secretive. Not to mention that for all intents and purposes, the Checks’n’Cashing was legit.

They’d see about that soon. One of the people who was sent to the institution slipped them an envelope marked "To Manager." Inside was a copy of the card handed to Daniela, and a note.

"Go to Almsley Park at midnight tonight. I do not care if you come armed, you may need the extra firepower around those bits. We have business to discuss."

The note was not signed, but only packaged with a patch bearing the logo of the La Fundacion de Las Abogadas de Ley Jacinta por la Ciudad de Los Angeles. Apparently made at a local patches shop, it was remarkably well made. It was a green shield with a profile view of a tiger in the middle, roaring at some distant enemy. Modified in this version was the addition of numerous rifles with bayonets--or shillouettes thereof--held at attention in the background. And, it bore the words, "Segue la Ley."

As soon as Mark returned to his office, he sat himself down in a high backed, ornately carved wooden chair. Lion heads roared in defiance as arm rests while dark leather served as a cushion for his backside. It had been a risk, but the assassin wanted at least some symbolance of home. The chair had been imported from Mythrandir through the proper channels and finally ended up in his office as a decent chair to sit in.

It was a symbolance of his authority on this planet while he served as the crime syndicate's head while Crucible still lived on Mythrandir. Two stacks of reports filed into his office over the next few days as monetary gains in the business were reported along with new clients while the other stack contained information about what his agents had found out thus far.

Some of the reports were less than uplifting with what they detailed about some of the smaller crime organizations. The only crime group that drew his attention was the one he had recently paid a visit. They were one of the few that were not intentionally harmful to the residents of the neighborhood they haunted. A refreshing realization in an age where crime lords had no class or style. Mark read over some of warring groups and their way of life, they would be easy to dispatch in due time freeing up the market for Velvet Gauntlet goods and services.

The pass few nights had gone late with meetings with Mark's operatives discussing future business fronts and what word was coming in from the street concerning the Ley Jacinta. Informants were still out on the streets and visiting the local restaurants but little progress had been made in the first few days. New business clients had also been paying a visit though they would have found everything as legitimate as could be with security cameras watching the premises and scanners at the entryways looking for any weapons.

When a note arrived for Mark discussing a business proposition between he and the Ley Jacinta, the assassin smiled devilishly. Apparently their definition and his definition of the word "armed" took on different connotations here. Late one night after work, Mark opened a combination vault behind a pendant hanging behind his desk. Inside was a coat of mail and Mark's belongings that he had smuggled into New Dornalia.

Pulling on the coat of mail, it fit snug around his muscled frame and wrapped up around his head. Next, he moved to the wooden rack and ripped off a leather breast plate that allowed the assassin to travel light but still remained decently protected which also hid the silver rings protecting his flesh. A belt loop of small daggers came next and were tied around his waist. One of his prized positions was a small wooden crossbow that was light enough to be fired one handed but also had the capacity to fire energy bolts. Mark strapped the bow to his back and grabbed a quily of energy bolts which fit on the side of his thigh. The last of his armamnet were two simple devices. One was a silver ring that fit easily around his finger that could extend and turn into an energy shield much like the Myth Warriors used in battle. Only this had been sized down for personal use. The other was a device that accompanied every Myth on any mission or business expedition. A black orb that could contain vast amounts of information and could perform various tasks.

Mark threw on a large brown leather over coat that fell to his ankles and helped conceal his armor and weapons. A hat floated to the top of his head to cover the mail coating with a wide brown brim. The last of Mark's apparel came in the form of two brown boots stretching up to his mid-calf. One just so happened to be equipped with a pressure device that extended a small blade in the toe of the boot.

Fully clothed and armed, Mark headed out into the night which he realized most would mistake him for an old fashion detective that were often on their television programs. The kind that were still shown in black and white, but some of the worst forms of entertainment in the assassin's opinion. Still he felt it would be suitable enough for him to appear inconspicuous. As the note had prescribed, Mark arrived at Amsley Park a little before midnight and kept to the shadows while he waited for what he expected would be a cat-girl type.

Fully clothed and armed, Mark headed out into the night which he realized most would mistake him for an old fashion detective that were often on their television programs. The kind that were still shown in black and white, but some of the worst forms of entertainment in the assassin's opinion. Still he felt it would be suitable enough for him to appear inconspicuous. As the note had prescribed, Mark arrived at Amsley Park a little before midnight and kept to the shadows while he waited for what he expected would be a cat-girl type.

Having arrived just before midnight, Mark would find Aimsley Park (named after some long-forgotten Communist bureaucrat) was definetly not a place one normally would go at this time of night. Though the immediate area around him was calm, in the distance he could probably hear the faint shouts of youths chanting, possibly settling old scores through what passed as rough parodies of duels involving streetfighting methods that would be unacceptable otherwise.

Indeed, the whole neighborhood at night was not for those who liked nightlife. The presence of the LAPD was out in force at night, with automobiles and motorcycles--both terrestrial and speederbike--making frequent rounds. An air of dread kept ordinary persons moving hastily and with a sense of trepidation. The area within the gentegata neighborhood was calm enough, with groups of catgirls wandering the streets and very little to worry about. There were the occasional whispers and glances, most about his distinct appearance. But otherwise he was left alone.

However, as he got to Aimsley, the neighborhood around the park would become downright nasty. Groups of youths on street corners with all sorts of colors, leaving dives and populating dimly lit alleys could be seen plotting; whenever the LAPD patrols weren't there, they would act and fight one another with knives, pistols and the odd assault rifle. Gunshots and hums of energy-based blades could be heard, as ordinary citizens and the gangs occasionally clashed, be it a purse snatcher battling off a lone assailant or a shopkeeper with serious firepower playing Fort Apache with a gang trying to get protection money. Their colors would be dim in the night, but it was obvious these were both agents of the Aztlan Rangers and the 14th Street Ballas, plus any associates they bothered to drag along with them on their nightly piracies.

These scenes aside, Mark was about to face them up close. For a group of youths wandering by began hooting and whistling at each other. Wearing "street" clothing, marked with the colors of the 14th Street Ballas, and led by a couple of scruffy looking individuals, they eventually surrounded him and began taunting him. The two silenced their soldiers, and then stepped up to their opponents, a group of Mexicans in polo shirts.

"Whatcha doing here, taco vendor? You lost?" one of the leaders said. A man who looked like the epitome of "white trash," "wigger," and (in the old UK) "chav," he got into Mark's face and pointed at him angrily. The man next to him, a black fellow who looked somewhat smarter than his co-conspirator, replied, "You have business with us, huh? 14th Street? Well, say something!"

After a pause, the White Trash Guy said to his associate speaking of the reticent Mexican in front of him, "Bitch ain't sayin' nothin'. Thinks he's smart." The Co-Conspirator replied sarcastically, "Ya think?" The White Trash Guy then reached for something at his waist, and then the Co-Conspirator thrust his finger at Mark as he looked at the White Trash Guy. The White Trash Guy, seemingly used to being talked back to by his Co-Conspirator, yelled "Get your hand down, motherfucker!" as he smacked down his pointing finger. The Co-Compatriot replied, seemingly eager to get his friend to act reasonable and get the Mexican what he handed him to do what he wanted at the same time: "Just saying, don't do anything stupid. Remember the last guy you did that to? Assholes made you hide in Barstow!"

"I'm just saying, this bitch don't talk"--the White Trash Guy then put his index and middle fingers together, and pressed them against the Mexican's forehead as he did so, committing one of New Dornalia's most offensive gestures--"he gonna wish he did!" A cry of "ooh!" erupted from the gang around them. The Mexican motioned for his men to pull arms, and the others reacted in kind (save for White Trash and Co-Conspirator), then--

"Now that's just rude, boys."

The familiar voice of Daniela from the restaurant could be heard, and if Mark looked in the direction where the voice came from, a gap in the gang's ranks revealed a catgirl in a long trenchcoat, with a black t-shirts and black Bermuda shorts. She was flanked by two associates, one of which was armed with a shotgun and considerable height, the other armed with what looked like a rifle of some sort. To the gun savvy, it was a FN FAL, particularly an ex-Australian Lithgow L1A1, modified appropriately with aftermarket parts and operations of dubious legality (in the sense taxes were never paid and they probably violated some sort of safety regulations).

"Fuck you want, kitty?" The Co-Conspirator said. "This your boyfriend?"

"No, but I am to meet with a business associate of mine whom I was about to discuss business with. And this is neutral ground, with no blood to be shed." Daniela looked at her watch, and smiled, saying to Mark, "Here we go. 12:00 sharp."

At that, the White Trash Guy turned about and whipped out a large pistol from his pockets, which was promptly shot out by the woman with the FAL. At that point, the gang members whipped out all sorts of weapons, leading Daniela to whip out a M4 SMG and command them to "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" After an awkward pause, the others decided to leave, especially as one of hte associates used her shotgun to silence the others with a blast in the air. Daniela then slapped the White Trash Guy and the Mexican as she said forcefully, "Get out. And stay away from Aimsley Park. You both lost your priveleges! You got it!? GO! And take your men with you. Tell your bosses that they let their men do this shit again, I'm gonna start making them regret it!"

She then turned to where Mark was, and said, "You can come out."

The hum of crime in the air and the sheer desperation of the people in the area. Mark was now in his element as an assassin where everyone could be used to his advantage. They were all petty in his mind and wanted nothing but to look out for themselves and further their own needs. It made them all painfully predictable. Being a foreigner in a crime infested street, he had no real way of passing as a fellow criminal. Nor did he have any desire to become like them.

Many years ago, the Velvet Gauntlet had established a tradition of being above the common thief or murderer. While a commoner would steal or kill out of base emotions or necessity, the Gauntlet only engaged in such activities for motivation and to further their ultimate goal. The mindless rabble that surrounded him had no such foresight beyond their next victim. It was a disgusting revelation to him that brought a slight taste of bile to his throat.

As he had expected, it wasn't long before a band of thugs decided to test him without even realizing who he was or what he was capable of. Smiling at the absurdity of it all underneath the shadow of his hat, Mark waited out the insults and obscene gestures that meant nothing to him. He simply stood resolute amidst their endless taunts and exchanges. Their skills as novice in the business where apparent to him from the constant bickering amongst themselves and refusal to act.

Still Mark remained standing still and refused to move or dignify them with an answer. Speaking with vermin would have lowered him to their level and the assassin was too refined for such demeanor. As they pushed and shoved and argued back and forth, Mark looked for an opportunity to strike. He had hoped that they would try and circle around him as bullies were want to do and proceed with their taunts. At that range and formation, Mark knew he could get at least two throats with his daggers in a single pass but that seemed too coordinated for this group.

Reaching into the folds of his trench coat, Mark grasped a single blade. If one of the ruffians so much as laid a finger on him, it would be the last mistake they ever made in their short, pointless lives. Fate seemed to be on the side of street scum though as a familiar voice came up from the rear of the criminals.

Mark released his grip on the hilt of his dagger and instead found the silver ring wrapping around his finger. He fiddled with it for a moment until he found the right setting. Should he need it, the shield was ready to come to life in an instant.

As bullets flied and curses spewed from their mouths, Mark stood tall in the same place he had been since the exchange had started. There was no sense in moving from his spot. Bodies fell around him scrambling to get away but through it all he kept his stoic experience as a strange man in a brown leather trench coat and brown hat. Underneath it all he wore the most disturbing smile of all that was accustomed to seeing life snuffed from someone's eyes.

Once it was all over, Mark took his first steps in those uneventful minutes. He blew a small sigh of disappointment. "You should have killed them."

Obviously a different side to the smiling businessman she had seen in the restaurant a few days before as he continued to walk by. "Now that you've kept me with poor company until you decided to show, you might as well come along and tell me what you've dragged me out here for."

Obviously a different side to the smiling businessman she had seen in the restaurant a few days before as he continued to walk by. "Now that you've kept me with poor company until you decided to show, you might as well come along and tell me what you've dragged me out here for."

Daniela, however, was still smiling. So the gaichin has a dark side, eh? she thought. This should be good.

She motioned for her bodyguards to lower their weapons, and then stepped forward. She crossed her arms together, and said, "I apologize for that. These people--I mean, you tell them to respect neutral ground, but evidently, they just have to exercise their machismo. Some people." She rolled her eyes, and sighed. Her bodyguards shook their heads, as if cued by the sigh. Their dismay seemed oddly not syncophantic, as if to please their leader.

The first thing she did was to dispel any doubts it was her. True to her appearance in the restaurant, she lit up a cigarette and stuck it into the corner of her mouth. She then said, apologizing, "I know you're not a fan of the cancer sticks, but I find they calm me down some." Puffing for a few moments, Daniela then began to speak.

"Right. I dragged you out here for a little chat. A chat between two businesspeople, you and me. If it's not comfy, we can always do this in my car. But either way, I'd like to talk to you."

Leading Mark to a nearby park bench, she sat him down and explained, "I'd like to chat because of this."

She then flashed at Mark the card he had slipped into her pocket. She then said, politely but firmly inquisitive, "Let's face it. We're both a cut above these street thugs. I mean, I'm betting you've heard things about me, and I've certainly heard things about your people." Well, actually, the last part was more a bluff than anything, since they didn't hear much, but she kept a good poker face.

"And if you heard what I thought you heard about us, you know we've got some good capacities, and we're not like those model citizens you just saw." She said the last part with some sarcasm, and Mark would no doubt be able to discern real distaste for the ruffians Daniela had just ejected from what she called "neutral ground." Puffing on her cig, she then finished her pitch with, "Being that you're a gentleman of taste--I could tell from our shared disgust at the way some of our competitors behave--and we're not wanton barbarians like those guys, I would like to extend an offer of alliance to your people. This, whatsit, 'Velvet Gauntlet' of yours, if it is what you call it. We could no doubt offer much to one another in terms of support and trade."

Mark held out his arm towards a nearby park bench, preferring to do business outside instead of in her car. Cars were cramped and the assassin lost control over his environment. At least out here in the open, he still had some range of mobility and could adapt his surroundings to his advantage.

As they sat, Mark easily kept his own armaments in check ensuring that his long trench coat concealed their locations. The man pulled the brim of his hat lower so that shadows covered his eyes and facial expression but still provided him with an advantage to see what was going on in the environment around him as he listened to Daniela speak.

Shrugging as if what he heard was unimportant or irrelevant, he took the card from Daniela's hand. Mark gave it a terse look then scraped it across the legging of the bench. Friction caused a spark to ignite the paper which the assassin soon let fly free of his hand as the fire consumed it letting ashes dance on the night air erasing any symbolance of the name of the organization he belonged with. Such crafted paper had its uses though they were limited.

"So you fancy us partners in crime then? Our organization is above most and we do not tolerate such acts as the street scum around her display. Where we come from, we are the only crime lords. The rest have either joined, gone out of business, or have been eliminated. If you want to join us, then what is it that you can offer that will prove profitable and further our organization?"

"So you fancy us partners in crime then? Our organization is above most and we do not tolerate such acts as the street scum around her display. Where we come from, we are the only crime lords. The rest have either joined, gone out of business, or have been eliminated. If you want to join us, then what is it that you can offer that will prove profitable and further our organization?"

Daniela frowned slightly at his superior sounding tone. She had met people like him before, who had boasted of their monopoly on their home markets, regions and/or ethnic groups and demanded that she, in effect, "show them the money." They also tried to intimidate or impress her with tricks like the one he just did. Those people tended to moderate their tone after listening to her. Either way, Daniela would make it a point to change his mind and give him what he presumably wanted. She held her irritation in check, and kept her poker face up.

Leaning in slightly, she said, stiffening up in her tone, "For one, consider the market for vice in this city." Puffing on her cigarette and blowing away, she then continued, saying matter-of-factly, "There's legal prostitution here, and you can get soft drugs." She also pulled out the pack of cigarettes she eternally had with her, and wagged it in her hand. "You obviously can get these too. But as I had told you in the restaurant in that conversation, taxes are a bitch."

Pointing to the pack, she then said, continuing her matter-of-fact tone: "Lemme put it this way. Taxes on this pack of cigarettes are a national six percent sales tax, plus a State of California 5% sin tax, then LA County's combined eight and three quarters sales tax and three percent sin tax. Don't believe me, here's the reciept." She then passed Mark a copy of a sales receipt. Sure enough, it was clogged with records of taxes levied, which raised the price dramatically.

She then smiled and said, "Now, my people buy these cigarettes in another part of the Workers State. Say the New Territories, like New Chicago--that's but one of many spots I may use. They have only the National Sales Tax of six percent. I bring them here, using couriers and other elaborate methods under the guise of 'gifts for relatives' and other such things. Then, I resell them for much less to the people of Compton, Watts, and other parts of this city for much less than the going rate here. Even factoring black market inflation and the expense of bribes."

Pocketing the pack of cigarettes after taking one out and lighting it and puffing out of the way of Mark, she then began talking, saying as she held the cigarette jauntily as if she were Marlene Dietrich or another such movie star, "Now, you may be wondering, what does this economics lesson have to do with your question of why you should work with my people. Simple. I have just demonstrated that a ) there is a tax situation here in New Dornalia that can be downright ludicrous, and b ) that my people know 'the lay of the land' so to speak rather well as to how to evade it."

Continuing on, she went, "We have established routes, mechanisms, and products that we smuggle in and sell. Not just cigarettes, mind you. We cater to various vices. We sell crack cocaine. We sell Spank. A local drug, with possible origins as a combat stimulant; weakened and prepared well enough, it can produce a powerful high. Not that I know what that's like. I adhere to the rule of not dipping into my own supply. Including cigarettes--I suffer the aforementioned taxes and buy my own packs." Daniela said the last part with pride, and not superficial pride either.

Daniela leaned back and then continued with, "To continue answering your question, I also cater to those who want female company without filling out forms and paying the sin taxes. I sell guns and get them delivered under the table without the burdens of taxation. I make and market some of the finest Plasmids on the market--mutagenic groupings of stem cells that enable people to utilize psychic powers and prove great assets in combat--and the haterade needed to fuel them. And, whenever someone needs a crew of the toughest hardasses in town who look good and deliver powerful punches where it counts, my people do mercenary jobs."

Daniela then took the time and care to emphasize experience, "And, we have something you would need to get a foothold and expand your holdings here: experience and expertise in navigating the local environment. We have a good idea of who to trust with your business and who to put on an enemies list. Not just the amateurs you just saw, but the real operators like the Russian Mafia, the Italian Mafia, the Yakuza, and so on. Now I know you're not dumb, and you have the ability to gather intelligence. A smooth operator like yourself who has their head about them and a good sense of operating principles. But believe me when I say that my people could make the process of learning about the way Los Angeles works and then blending in with the local environs to do business go much more smoothly."

She then put out her cigarette gently and began gesturing to the neighborhood beyond, "Besides. I'm not like those thugs. I have a sense of honor and a way of doing things that doesn't involve wholesale pillage. You must have gone through my neighborhood to get here, yes? Did you notice the difference between my neighborhood and the one nearby? The neighborhood under my control was calmer, safer. The one not under my control was not. See, that's because I work using gentle reciprocity. I protect the people in my neighborhoods, and they look out for me. I don't rough them up unless they decide to actively oppose me and threaten my people. But that rarely happens because the people in my neighborhood--I protect them and help them out. I'm their patron. A patron must look after her people. I can show you around later, if you so desire, but I digress."

She then capitulated her speech by saying, "So, to capitulate. You will want my people's services because we know the local environment, can provide an invaluable service in blending in, have established routes, provide a wide array of excellent services and do it all without rampant collateral damage. To prove this latter point, we are going to disarm ourselves. Hopefully, you can trust someone who will willingly disarm themselves to prove a point."

She then got up and opened her coat, removing her guns and then removing the magazines from them, before tossing them to the woman with the FAL. She then glanced at her lieutenants and they did likewise, removing the magazines from their weapons and setting them to safe, before putting them away in conspicous view of their guest.

Mark kept his demeanor roughly the same as he listened to the cat-woman ramble on about her organization's qualities. If he was supposed to be impressed, then he never displayed any such reaction. From time to time as she continued on about what they were capable of, Mark's unshakeable state would lead some to wonder if he had fallen asleep during the speech.

The only sign that this was not the case came when he began to speak. "I must say your government burdens your people quite so and I believe we can remedy that situation in due order though I do not think I would have to use your smuggling routes for that. There are other places, other worlds, where tobacco has no tax and is far cheaper. Smuggling a greater quantity and variety of tobacco should be rather simple.

However moving tobacco so that people can move pass a tax or two does not excite me nor impress me. Prostitution is known to us and we can add to the supply of women being used in this country though again that is a rather simple matter to have women from other worlds brought here through similar means as we were then used to service men. Perhaps even at a lower price than you along with no paperwork. Paperwork is a nuissance by the way, it leaves too many tracks.

As for the other crime organizations of this world, I imagine we would meet them sooner or later. These street thugs that plague this area are bad for business. Kill enough of them and I am sure we will eventually step on someone's toes. Of course that would mean someone would have to come looking for those responsible. Since our criminal organization does not exist here, it would be hard for them to locate us. Only I am known and only I am ever seen. I would give them a few years worth of putting up a decent fight, but sooner or later they would all fall leaving us to run the streets as we see fit.

Now, you mention blending into the environment. It is rather difficult to blend in when everyone knows who you are. If I am not mistaken, quite a few people know who you are. On the other hand, who knows who I am? How many of me are there really here? Everytime you have seen me, it has just been me. We work as ghosts. No one knows we exist and no one ever will. Only I will ever be seen by those who require our services.

Your weapons market is what is of interest and perhaps even your drugs. Perhaps that is where we could best fit in together. How capable are you of transporting these materials off this world and onto others?"

Mark watched as they removed the ammunition from their weapons and tossed them aside. If they decided to be unarmed, then that was their choice. The assassin made no move to remove his weapons though they were far more subtle than a gun of any kind.

Your weapons market is what is of interest and perhaps even your drugs. Perhaps that is where we could best fit in together. How capable are you of transporting these materials off this world and onto others?"

Mark watched as they removed the ammunition from their weapons and tossed them aside. If they decided to be unarmed, then that was their choice. The assassin made no move to remove his weapons though they were far more subtle than a gun of any kind.

Daniela chuckled, with a mixture of bitter resentment and appreciation for her opposite number. She had met an intellectual equal, and certainly one who wasn't easily sold on pretty words and a slick sales pitch involving numbers, tax law, and a cigarette pack. Just as in the restaurant and when she first met him in this park, she had judged him correctly. It would certainly take more than speaking like a gangster from a Quentin Tarantino flick to win this guy over and maybe ameliorate him. After all, he boasted of his organization's capacities, and they seemed overly inflated, almost Mary Sue-ish. The Martinez Organization and the Elven Freigauneren were the only groups she could think of that could match this group's boasted secrecy quotient. And maybe hers, only some of her members insisted on wearing the colors.

But first, a little spin. Easing the schmooze off a little bit, she then smiled and let her tone grow softer, even a little regretful and maternal.

With a shrug, she said, "Alright. Like I said, you're not stupid. I can tell when someone doesn't fall for the usual razzle-dazzle. I really mean it when I say that you've a good head on your shoulders. You'll go far in this city."

She then sat back down and coughed. "I would like to correct a few things though. First of all, I never explicitly said we used a paper trail. Only the government does. Believe you and me, I know only stupid people in our business leave a paper trail. That receipt I show you is the only paper trail I keep. And, I make it a policy never to use credit cards and rarely to use money orders and checks--unless we're forging the latter or collecting from front businesses--the latter we ensure go to dead ends.

Second of all, the tobacco was merely an example of one aspect of my business, merely for illustrative purposes. I just chose to describe it in detail because it deals with a subject I know best. I do acknowledge the fact my fame travels by word of mouth. However, that has proven helpful on some occasions, and besides, not many people know our rituals, operating structure, and all the details about us or our exact strengths besides the markets we invest in--they just know we're some sort of big gang that comes to collect or do stuff, but then they have to use their imaginations. But, that's beside the point."

True to her chain-smoking nature, she lit up yet another cigarette, and puffed on it before resuming her answer. "Now, I see you're interested in our weapons and drugs. You ask, how easily can I get these moved offworld to other parts? Well, like I said, I've got routes, and I've got people. This is why I emphasized them earlier. See, in New Dornalia, people in our business usually keep the company of a few ships and an associated band of smugglers and pirates to bolster our numbers.

In this case, I've made enough money to have enough of both to carry my goods from place to place without attracting the attention of the Internal Security Bureau or the Naval Home Guard or the Space Auxiliaries of the various planetary police agencies of the SSRs with no questions asked with a minimum of cost and with exceptionally beautiful timing. And like I said, I'm a good patron; those pirates and smugglers under my command are 100% loyal, and their lips are ironclad shut." She neglected to tell him the punishments her organzation levied for snitching, but she figured he'd know them, what with the research he did.

"So to answer your question, we are very capable. We could have Spank delivered from our labs in Baja California, or perhaps a shipment of Cadian Lasguns or Kalashnikov AK-47s to Nova Louisiana--the furthest SSR we know of--in a matter of, oh, a couple of days, less even if they gun the engines and use the right Hyperspace Expressways and local hyperspace routes, formal or not. If they can do that in country, imagine how quickly they could ship to our homeworld. Even with the matter of customs inspectors, we could deliver whatever you wanted quickly."

Mark eased back now that the woman had finally stopped trying to impress him and started speaking to him on a plain business level. It removed any room for loop holes and allowed everyone to speak their mind. Now that a simple line of communication had been established, he was willing to listen more fully as the woman elaborated.

After her remarks on paying for pirates and smugglers, Mark tipped up the brim of his hat so he could gaze at the cat-woman more fully. For a moment, he wondered just how much it cost her to smoke with the outrageous taxes and given the fact that she smoked constantly. It was dismissed as soon as he thought of it.

"Pirates and smugglers? Why pay the extra money for that and worry about abuse? I believe you misunderstand me and why I am here. Perhaps you do not fully appreciate the magnitude of this contract your are binding yourself into. This goes beyond Compton or New Dornalia itself. We are talking about a galactic wide crime ring. One that stretches from one end of the cosmos to the other.

In time, every planet will be infiltrated by our agents. One by one, the competition will be eliminated until only us and those few that prove profitable will be left standing."

Mark tossed his legs up and down onto the ground as he stood up. His eyes drifted towards the stars. "Imagine it Daniela, New Dornalian drugs or weapons being shipped to the Core Worlds, the Balroggan Empire, or any other world that you can imagine. The loyalties of pirates or smugglers would never be a question because we would ship it ourselves. Starships at our disposal to ship what we want when we want."

The assassin turned around to look at the woman as she smoked. "Once operational, the rewards will be astronomical."

Walking over light on his feet, Mark eased back down into the park bench. "I am afraid though, that not everyone will be able to join. We will only suffer those few that have prove worthy enough to be partners, to live. Your street vermin 'friends', do not have much longer to live. Nor does any other gang on this planet. The fate of your group rests with you now."

Mark stood up and shoved his hands in his trench coat pocket. "I will give you some to think it over since I do not expect an answer right away. You know how to contact me once you've reached a decision. After which, it is possible you may never hear from me again. Or see me for that matter."

Walking over light on his feet, Mark eased back down into the park bench. "I am afraid though, that not everyone will be able to join. We will only suffer those few that have prove worthy enough to be partners, to live. Your street vermin 'friends', do not have much longer to live. Nor does any other gang on this planet. The fate of your group rests with you now."

Mark stood up and shoved his hands in his trench coat pocket. "I will give you some to think it over since I do not expect an answer right away. You know how to contact me once you've reached a decision. After which, it is possible you may never hear from me again. Or see me for that matter."

Daniela chuckled at the promises of endless profits, endless reach and power beyond her wildest dreams, if only she joined in his plan. It was like in those six-dollar romance novels at the supermarket, or out of those Twilight Zone episodes where some poor sap made a deal with the devil. It seemed rather too good to be true.

Her greedy, ambitious side told her to take the offer. The offer of an unlimited market for her products was too tempting to resist. She could escape the confines of the City of Los Angeles, hell even New Dornalia, and truly become somebody. She could even challenge the Hutts if she played her cards right. Her name was already spoken in dives and bars around Earth and the Workers State. Why not run the whole show? Become the patron to end all patrons in the biggest patron-client relationship the underworld would ever witness. Daniela, the benevolent Godmother, ruling over a compliant underworld.

Her cynical, "ghetto" side told her, however not to do it. That he was just inflating his people's abilities, that a man from a goody-goody nation that didn't let its people carry guns and lived like a quaint image out of some bookstore fantasy novel couldn't possibly have all that power--or did have all that power, and would screw her over. Who was to say he wouldn't put any strings attached to this offer? For all she knew, he would make her a queen and then entrap her in a devil's pact Daniela would have a hell of a time escaping from. She even entertained the thought that the offer might even make her into a junior partner, whilst Mark's people got the big bucks. After all, he wanted to emphasize his people doing the delivery and his people taking out the opposition. His people.

She mused over the offer for a few moments. She then lit up a cigarette and puffed, before saying, "I like your offer. A partnership in an interplanetary smuggling mafia. Power overwhelming." Daniela then chuckled and said, "I like that. But, I do have a few questions to ask before I make a commitment, if I may ask. Because you have my interest, and my potential acceptance. But, I need some more details clarified before I act."

She then puffed some more on the cigarette before saying, "First of all, what would be the nature of our partnership, exactly? As much as I like the idea of our pan-galactic reach, I would like to ensure my part of it doesn't end up as a subordinate role. Second of all, I find some trustworthy, very sensible and thoughtful groups useful when the need arises. Emphasis on some, of course. The Elven Freigauneren guilds of assasins, for example. What would happen to these gangs if they decided to stop resisting us, or I judged them, mmm...what's the word, necessary?"

Mark knew he had her interested in his offer. It was an ideal that their leader, Crucible, had inticed them all with at first. Like Daniela now, many had trouble believing in what he was promising. That was however, until the rest of the petty criminals of Mythrandir fell to the might of the Velvet Gauntlet. Now there were few who doubted his visions of galactic conquest, instead only questioned when it would come to fruition.

All that remained, was convincing one ring leader at a time that it would be worth their investment. It was for this reason why only the most gifted of the Gauntlet's agents were sent abroad. A strong representation had to be presented to outsiders so that they would not think that the agents were lesser.

Mark turned around to face Daniela as she spoke, haulting his walk. "Fair enough."

The assassin glided back to the park bench and took his seat next to her. "If you are concerned about your position amongst our guild, then be at ease. Your talents are all that is required for judgement. Should you prove adequate enough then you will have an equal say on how business is conducted, but if you prove to be a fool then I am afraid it is too dangerous for business to allow someone like that to have a say in our business. I imagine that should not be the case with you.

As a guild, we all share in the successes and failures of our working so no one side will be mitigated in our business. Your people will be equally paid as our own.

The Velvet Gauntlet is more than just smuggling and prostitution, but is also familiar with more 'subtle' trades. If these elves of yours are interested in working as assassins for us, then they may join the ranks of our assassins should they pass the tests. But once minor groups have outlived their usefulness, then I see no reason to keep them around. Removing unwanted baggage will help cut our costs and increase our profits."

The Velvet Gauntlet is more than just smuggling and prostitution, but is also familiar with more 'subtle' trades. If these elves of yours are interested in working as assassins for us, then they may join the ranks of our assassins should they pass the tests. But once minor groups have outlived their usefulness, then I see no reason to keep them around. Removing unwanted baggage will help cut our costs and increase our profits."

"Trust me. The groups I trust are neither small fry nor useless, like those 'gangstas.' I'm sure they'd love to get in on this, or stay out of the way. Believe you and me, I have ways of making sure they stay that way, by hook or by crook." Daniela then, true to form, lit up another cigarette, seemingly just as quick as she lit up the last one.

Seemingly relaxed after that puff--a tribute perhaps, to the calmative effects of nicotine--she then smiled and said to Mark, growing bolder in tone as she spoke, "I'm in. Tell your men and your benefactors Daniela Jacinta-chibi, the baddest motherfucker in the city of Los Angeles, and her Abogadas are coming to play ball on their team. And that they might bring friends."

She then puffed some more and looked at a watch she had. "Well, look at the time. I gotta hit the hay. I'm glad we could come to this agreement." Turning back to Mark, Daniela then asked, "How do I contact you again, if I may ask? I do intend to show you around the neighborhood sometime."

It was good to hear that one more gang was coming to join the Gauntlet in their quest for galactic authority. Truly it would be a glorious day when that dream was realized and no doubt Crucible would be pleased to hear such news. Mark was ready to see how profitable these people could truly be.

When Daniela asked for a means to contact him; Mark reached into the pocket of his trench coat, exposing the unique mail that covered his body along with a series of daggers around his hip, and pulled out a scroll of parchment paper. True to Daniela's idea about a world that resembled a fantasy novel, the parchment was rolled with leather straps keeping it bound. It was rough to the touch, obviously old and seen many days.

For someone that did not like paper trails, Mark had quite a collection of it as he handed it over to her. No doubt she would be confused by the gift since once it was unrolled the parchment was completely blank. After handing the parchment scroll off to her, he reached into another pocket in his trench coat and produced a thin feather pen. The black feather quill fit lightly in Daniela's hand and was ornate enough to pass off as a decoration of sorts.

"Memory paper," to answer her obvious wondering what in the name of the four winds that Mark had just handed to her.

"I have an identical twin of the paper back at the office. If you ever need anything or wish to contact me, write it down on the parchment. I will see what you have written and will be able to converse with you. This only works by combining that particular pen with this paper. Think of it as a gift from where we come from. One business partner to another."

Mark stood up to stretch out and made ready to leave. "One other thing. This is for our personal use alone. Only I will ever read what you write to me. It is a way of eliminating message carriers and potential eavesdroppers. So, if you have need then write it down. Otherwise I look forward to the tour. It would be honor to be escorted by a lady of your caliber."

The assassin swept his hat off and dipped a low bow before standing tall once again and replacing his hat.

Daniela looked at the paper and smiled. This guy was really something. With his chain mail armor and his daggers, he definetly resembled something out of a nerd's bookshelf. Though he also resembled a Chinese Highbinder, with all those daggers and the chainmail and the long coat. Either way, he struck Daniela as surprisingly formidable enough. Mark seemed like a fellow who knew what he was doing, and even without the use of a firearm as she knew it....he seemed intelligent enough to get plenty of fighting time in with those.

With her trademark grin, she looked at Mark and said, "Now this is something. Paper that can be used for instant two-way contact. Glad not even the People's Acolytes have this. If you've been doing your research, you'd know those guys are generally incorruptible and generally a buncha major hardasses." Wagging the paper some, she said, nodding and then looking at him, "I like this. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." The bodyguards nodded--they wouldn't say a thing about the paper.

Looking at her watch, "Right. I'll write on this when its time to pick you up for our little tour. I've gotta get some sleep." She then said, bowing to Mark, "Thank you for this lovely meeting. To quote a famous film, 'I have the feeling this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.'" Then, she motioned to her bodyguards, and then departed. Oddly enough, she only had them turn their backs when he was out of view.
-----------------------
As this occurred...

"So Daniela's been throwing her weight again, eh?"

The Large Individual in the backroom of the dance club meeting with some of the thugs from the Park listened intently to their story, and nodded deliberately. He then frowned and pronounced judgment. Smoking a cigar, he then said, "Well. So Danny thinks she runs the neighborhood."

Eventually, the Large Individual paused for a moment, and then said angrily and deliberately, "Well, I think she needs to be reminded that any discussions between the Aztlan Rangers and 14th Street are none of her concern." Stomping on the cigar as he threw it on the ground, he tied it into his concluding line with the words, "Contact Aztlan. Call Fiorelli. And get some heavy-handed men together. We'll send her a reminder...."

One of the men in the room said, "Aye, Mr. Big."
-------------

Mark, the next morning, would get a message on his paper.

"This is Daniela. Come to my restaurant. There will be an auto out front, with someone at the wheel and me in the rear left passenger seat. Get inside of it, I will be waiting.

Daniela."

Mark's shadow could be seen around the park for a time after Daniela and her body guards had departed. The night was still cool and clear which the assassin intended to enjoy for a little while longer. Eventually, it was time for his pressence to disappear as he melted into the darkness of the night and made his way back to his business establishment.

One organization had now just pledged their support to the Velvet Gauntlet in seeking greater gains and glory. The mastermind behind their organization, Crucible, would need to be informed of the development and the promising relationship that was budding. No doubt the leader of their group would be supremely pleased.

Next Morning

The morning found Mark in a meeting of sorts that most around the office had come to believe was a simple meeting of investors and officials higher up in the banking chain. Unbeknownst to them, Mark sat in conference with several associates that had followed him from Mythrandir. Most came from the Thieves Guild of the Gauntlet but there were several amongst their numbers that dealt in weapons and drugs of sorts and more than a few hailed from the Citadel of Assassins.

Discussions circulated around what the Gauntlet would be bringing into this world to profit from. From the general atmosphere of the debates, most of Mark's associates were ready to start moving real cargo instead of moving money from one hand to the next. The conversation was growing more intense as Mark sat back at the head of a long oaken table and let out play out when a rolled up piece of parchment at his side flared with an inner light.

The debates stopped cold as they all turned to study their regional master and what had just occured. Mark unfolded his arms and scooped up the scroll. Untying the leather thongs, Mark unravelled the parchment and silently read the message for him.

"This is Daniela. Come to my restaurant. There will be an auto out front, with someone at the wheel and me in the rear left passenger seat. Get inside of it, I will be waiting.

Daniela."

Mark rolled the parchment back up and tucked it in the insides of his coat pocket. "We will have to conclude this meeting another time. I'm being called away on business."

The proclamation piqued the interest of some of the members of his staff. "Where ye headin' boss? Is Master Crucible calling again?"

Occupied with gathering his things, Mark didn't pay much attention to the questions coming at his back.

"Ah, I know. I'm bettin' its the woman you were out all night with. Ain't it?"

It was more a matter-of-fact than question which caused Mark to pause for a moment. Clearly some of his own men had been tailing him as he walked the streets last night. Not that it surprised him, only now that they believed he was having a relationship with this Daniela.

One of the more seedier agents smiled his approval. "The cat-girl species of this planet is rather fascinating. Perhaps we could bring some into our brothels back home. It could very well start a trend that would prove quite lucrative to us though we would need a few of them. No doubt our clients would wear out a few."

The comment brought a few laughs from around the table. That was, until a silver dagger sunk deep into the wooden table right in front of the brothel patron. Uncomfortable silence filled the room for many minutes as the assassin calmly walked over to the table and retrieved his own weapon.

"Perhaps you are right good Damello. Maybe the brothels could profit from an exotic flavor in the sheets but it will not be you that makes that judgement. As long as Crucible has entrusted me to this domain, only I will decide what the Gauntlet will and will not profit from. No one will take advantage off the relationship between the Gauntlet and Ley-Jacinta. If I so much as hear rumors that some of her kind has gone missing, then I will begin introducing some of you to the waters of New Dornalia.

The ports back home in Mythrandir were always a popular ground for dropping off bodies. It should add a touch of home to this place for some of you."

Spinning the dagger around and returning it to its sheath, Mark spun around and returned to his preparations. "Compile a list of items you believe would fit well into this society causing the least amount of suspicion then leave it on the desk. I will review it when I return later."

Without another word to his associates, the assassin threw open the door and left the conference room. Once enough distance was between him and his fellow criminals, Mark stepped off into the bathroom to check his appearance. While moving with the deadly grace of an assassin and seeing his fair share of death, Mark still took a bit of time to smooth out his appearance. His own method of appearing invisible amongst a crowd was actually through standing out.

The suit fitting around his firm body was some of the finer fabrics he could find on New Dornalia. It often had the effect of adding to his overall handsome looks that had a couple of the secretaries stumbling as he walked by. Mark checked the mirror to make sure his jet black hair was slicked back and still in place. He pulled out a pair of black sunglasses from his coat pocket and headed out the door.

More upwardly resembling a romantic poet instead of a hardened killer, Mark appeared more a successful businessman that appeared to pose hardly a threat. Unlike their last encounter, Mark wore no protective chainmail or a belt filled with daggers. He merely wore the same ring on his right hand as he did that night along with two daggers hooked to latches under his forearms and the same small energy firing crossbow as before.

Like the last time they had met, there was hardly a sign on him that he carried a weapon. Mark reached for the door handle on the rear right hand side of the automobile and slid inside.

He gave Daniela a smile when he saw her. "Good morning."

"Perhaps you are right good Damello. Maybe the brothels could profit from an exotic flavor in the sheets but it will not be you that makes that judgement. As long as Crucible has entrusted me to this domain, only I will decide what the Gauntlet will and will not profit from. No one will take advantage off the relationship between the Gauntlet and Ley-Jacinta. If I so much as hear rumors that some of her kind has gone missing, then I will begin introducing some of you to the waters of New Dornalia.

The ports back home in Mythrandir were always a popular ground for dropping off bodies. It should add a touch of home to this place for some of you."

Spinning the dagger around and returning it to its sheath, Mark spun around and returned to his preparations. "Compile a list of items you believe would fit well into this society causing the least amount of suspicion then leave it on the desk. I will review it when I return later."

Without another word to his associates, the assassin threw open the door and left the conference room. Once enough distance was between him and his fellow criminals, Mark stepped off into the bathroom to check his appearance. While moving with the deadly grace of an assassin and seeing his fair share of death, Mark still took a bit of time to smooth out his appearance. His own method of appearing invisible amongst a crowd was actually through standing out.

The suit fitting around his firm body was some of the finer fabrics he could find on New Dornalia. It often had the effect of adding to his overall handsome looks that had a couple of the secretaries stumbling as he walked by. Mark checked the mirror to make sure his jet black hair was slicked back and still in place. He pulled out a pair of black sunglasses from his coat pocket and headed out the door.

More upwardly resembling a romantic poet instead of a hardened killer, Mark appeared more a successful businessman that appeared to pose hardly a threat. Unlike their last encounter, Mark wore no protective chainmail or a belt filled with daggers. He merely wore the same ring on his right hand as he did that night along with two daggers hooked to latches under his forearms and the same small energy firing crossbow as before.

Like the last time they had met, there was hardly a sign on him that he carried a weapon. Mark reached for the door handle on the rear right hand side of the automobile and slid inside.

He gave Daniela a smile when he saw her. "Good morning."

Daniela, sure enough, was where she promised to be. Sitting in the rear left passenger seat, smoking as usual, she looked up at Mark and smiled. Putting out the cigarette, Daniela said to the man, "Ah, Mark! Good to see you again." Putting the cigarette into the ashtray in the back, Daniela continued, "I invited you here to fulfill my promise to give you a tour of the neighborhood. And maybe a little taste of the other parts of Los Angeles. But first, the neighborhood."

She then motioned for the driver to start the car, and the driver began moving out. As Daniela buckled up, the driver then said in Spanish, "I am worried, Señora Daniela. What of 14th Street, or the Rangers? They take offense easily, and may try to contact us forcefully here or at one of the restaurants. I would expect nothing less from Mr. Big or that awful man, Conteras."

At that, Daniela waved her hand and said, "No problem. There's a reason why I make y'all carry guns at work and practice. Now drive." The driver nodded and kept going.

Daniela smiled and said, "That was business. Anywho, let's see..." She then put a finger up and said, "You came on an interesting day, Mark. Today is the day where you get to see me act as a patron. Today, I collect from those businessmen and women under my protection, and I take requests for things they want done. Where is the first one of the day....I know. C.J's Spirits. I have to talk to Messeur Charles."

With that, she motioned for the driver to take her to said restaurant. As they did so, she began pointing out various spots within the neighborhood. Local dives, hangouts, good places to eat and drink, and people whose credit and checks were good and whose credit and checks were NOT good. Indeed, if it weren't for the outline of the large revolver that poked out of her jacket, she would be a good tour guide or true crime novelist.

Eventually, they stopped at their destination, and motioned for Mark to follow them inside.

The store itself was an ordinary New Dornalian liquor store. License prominently displayed behind the counter along with "We Card" signs and ther such things, there were also signs for specials on whiskey, wine, and beer. Beer was kept in the back in refridgerated cases, marked by a sign saying, "We don't break up six-packs." Hard liquor and wine were in racks, by type of spirit and alphabetical order.

At the counter was a young black man, working the register. He looked up and saw Daniela and her driver walk in, and said, "Can I help you?"

At this point, Daniela melted into a "nice girl" mode, laying down a muted, tasteful version of the charm Mark had seen last night. With a smile and a point she said, "You always knew how to keep proper procedure, Mikey. I need to see your dad again. Our usual business."

Mikey nodded and said, "I'll get him." He then went into a door in back. Some talking later, an older black man came out and said, "Hey Daniela, what's happenin'?" Craggy in complexion, he had glasses, a quiet, dignified demeanor about him and a shirt and tie. He looked a bit too professional for the environment he was in. He looked at Daniela with general gladness. Of course, he also regarded her with some trepidation in the mix.

Daniela then said, wandering up to the counter, "Just came to chew the fat, Chucky, like I usually do. Also came to get my usual supply of mezcal and beer and snack food and cigarettes." Leaning up to the counter, she joked, "You know a growing girl like me needs them."

Chucky laughed, and said, "Sure. Like you're getting any taller." Daniela returned the jibe with an appreciative look and a gesture of, "Oh, you."

Then, Daniela asked Chucky, "So...how's life?"

Chucky sighed and said, "Can't complain. Nobody's held up the store. The bathroom's spotless. And I do love the fact you managed to recommend a good rehab clinic for Fred. But....." His voice trailed off, Daniela leaned in with a curious look, as if to ask, "And?"

Chucky then said, "Alright, I'll tell you. Kip's about to fail history. Damn boy won't get off the HoloNet, keeps filling my damn computer with spyware. Says history's bunk. I tell him your older brother's getting good grades, why not you? But he just doesn't listen. Not to mention, I'm a bit worried about some of his new friends."

Daniela's eyes perked up at the mention of "new friends." "Tell me more, if you can," Daniela said inquisitively.

"Well, they're thugs, for a lack of a better word. Every other word's a cuss word, they don't shower and reek of cheap whatevers, and let's not forget the fact their idea of cool is wearing your pants so low the whole world can see your whitey-tighties. I know that's the fashion, but I raised my boys to be better than that. You seen Mikey, he's a good kid. Got good sense in his head, I wonder if maybe when his mother gave birth to him she may have taken too much from Kip." The old man sighed.

"Where's your son now?" Daniela asked. Chucky then shrugged and said, "In the back. Probably on my computer, again."

Daniela then leaned in and put her hand on Chucky's shoulder. Her tone turned reassuring and confident as she said, "Leave it to me. I'll straighten the boy out with little to no force. It's in your best interest and mine." Mark would understand the part about "mine," given that Daniela had strong suspicions that Kip's new thug friends were possibly 14th Streeters. The woman walked into the back, and shut the door.

Not much occurred for the next few minutes, except for shouting, mumblings, and the odd expletive. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Daniela walked out, wiping her brow. Chucky raised his eyebrows rather skeptically and asked, "I thought you said you wouldn't use force." To that, he got a reply of "I didn't. I was going to though. Your son is rather stubborn. Good thing he listens to lectures about the effects of hanging out with unsavory individuals who think everything in life can be gained by a fist and expletives instead of a kind word." Daniela then asked, "Did your son have any maternal support?"

Chucky shook his head. "Afraid not. Not since the divorce. The kids took that hard."

Daniela then paused for a moment, and then scribbled down a number. "Here's a stable, sensible, sane woman whom I know is looking for someone to settle down with. Give her a call." Chucky took the note, somewhat surprised but unwilling to speak to someone with as much power as Daniela. "That's pro-bono. As for the chat with your kid...."

Chucky then asked in a half-joking, somewhat sarcastic tone, "Yeah?"

"...just ring up some stuff. I'm in a rush and feeling generous."

Chucky nodded and said, "No problemo. Get what you need." Privately, he was glad this was all Daniela asked for. At times, she could be quite demanding when it came to cigarettes, as well as other favors.

After going around the shelves, Daniela acquired her necessary items and the man rang them up. No money was exchanged, and there weren't any cameras to speak of to record the transaction. Then, Daniela smiled, nodded, and shook Chucky's hand. "Thank you, Chuck." Daniela then raised a finger up and said, "Oh! Chucky, I almost forgot." Gesturing to Mark, Daniela bowed and said, "Mark, Charles Jonas 'chucky' Charles. Chucky, Mark."

At that, Chucky then extended his hand out, leaving the counter and saying, "How's it going, Mark? You new here in Los Angeles?"

The conversation in another language had Mark mentally on his toes. He wasn't quite sure of the dialect but he was quick enough in linguistics to understand that the conversation was in a language that Daniela used quite often. Beyond that realization, Mark was left in the dark as to what was passing between the woman and her driver. Uncomfortable with being left out of an information circle, Mark made a mental note to begin studying some of the languages of New Dornalia so he would at least be able to gleam information where others would not expect him to find it.

In the mean time, the car ride passed uneventfully as passed shops, houses, and other random buildings. Eventually they all came to a stop outside what looked to be a small shop in the business of selling spirits. Mark exited the car along with Daniela.

Straigthening his jacket, the assassin glided around the car and up to the door where he held it open for Daniela as she entered. Once inside, Mark took a corner of the store to hold up in while he observed the events between criminal and patron. Judging from the conversation that Daniela and someone by the name of "Chucky" had, followed by Daniela heading into the back room to discuss personal matters with the proprietor's son, Mark saw how differently the two criminal organizations were run. Something of that nature, would never have happened with the Gauntlet.

Afterwards, Daniela came out and introduced Mark to the man that supposedly ran the establishment. At that, Chucky then extended his hand out, leaving the counter and saying, "How's it going, Mark? You new here in Los Angeles?"

Mark took the man's hand it shook it firmly with a small smile. "Oh, I've been here for about a couple of weeks. Just passing through though. Nice place."

The conversation in another language had Mark mentally on his toes. He wasn't quite sure of the dialect but he was quick enough in linguistics to understand that the conversation was in a language that Daniela used quite often. Beyond that realization, Mark was left in the dark as to what was passing between the woman and her driver. Uncomfortable with being left out of an information circle, Mark made a mental note to begin studying some of the languages of New Dornalia so he would at least be able to gleam information where others would not expect him to find it.

In the mean time, the car ride passed uneventfully as passed shops, houses, and other random buildings. Eventually they all came to a stop outside what looked to be a small shop in the business of selling spirits. Mark exited the car along with Daniela.

Straigthening his jacket, the assassin glided around the car and up to the door where he held it open for Daniela as she entered. Once inside, Mark took a corner of the store to hold up in while he observed the events between criminal and patron. Judging from the conversation that Daniela and someone by the name of "Chucky" had, followed by Daniela heading into the back room to discuss personal matters with the proprietor's son, Mark saw how differently the two criminal organizations were run. Something of that nature, would never have happened with the Gauntlet.

Afterwards, Daniela came out and introduced Mark to the man that supposedly ran the establishment. At that, Chucky then extended his hand out, leaving the counter and saying, "How's it going, Mark? You new here in Los Angeles?"

Mark took the man's hand it shook it firmly with a small smile. "Oh, I've been here for about a couple of weeks. Just passing through though. Nice place."

"It's nice. The neighborhood's a bit rough around the edges, but it's home. I mean, I can't imagine moving anywhere else..." As Chucky spoke, his voice trailed off with something akin to appreciation and familiarity. The old timer looked into the distance, and sighed. He then shook himself back to reality, and then said, "But yeah, the neighborhood's nice."

He then said, "I see you're doing business with Daniela. She's a nice girl. Real generous, and real genteel and keeps the peace. Just don't make her mad." Chucky chuckled at the end of that, but the look in his eyes mixed the humor with an awareness of what happened when someone decided to screw their patron over. It looked like Chucky had never done that, judging by the health of his sons and the good shape of his shop, but it looked like he had known people who did--and paid the price. Still, Chucky seemed comfortable enough with Daniela's presence, and said in a welcoming manner, "Regardless, she's a good friend to have."

Daniela then walked up to Chucky with her bag and put her arm around his shoulder. With a smile, she said, "Good ol' Chuck. He sure can talk." She then said, tapping Chucky's shoulder, "Well, I think it's time to move on. We have a couple of other shops to visit, and then lunch."

Chucky then said, shaking Daniela's hand and then giving the "dap" shake (rather forced on Chucky's part, as he was somewhat uncomfortable with the exact mechanics) saying, "Have an awesome day." Daniela then led Mark and the driver out after letting them shop around for a few moments, to head to the next stop....a laundry....

Mark watched the exchange between the two with reservation, not quite sure what to make of the fact that her group was so well known as was her face. Coming from a land where assassination was a traditional method of exposing of rival leaders, the assassin could well imagine what such actions could bring down upon a person. Perhaps Daniela was free to do so on this world because they were simply different cultures. If that was the case, then Mark was beginning to think of all the delicious ways that he could use it to his advantage against other gangs here on this world.

With their time up, Mark said his farewells to the shopkeep and left with Daniela. Mark took the seat next to Daniela once they were in the vehicle again.

"I see you conduct business here differently than we do back home. Never would we have given the time of day to deal with someone's family problems regardless of their patronage. It is not our job to play council or babysitter for that matter."

Mark watched the exchange between the two with reservation, not quite sure what to make of the fact that her group was so well known as was her face. Coming from a land where assassination was a traditional method of exposing of rival leaders, the assassin could well imagine what such actions could bring down upon a person. Perhaps Daniela was free to do so on this world because they were simply different cultures. If that was the case, then Mark was beginning to think of all the delicious ways that he could use it to his advantage against other gangs here on this world.

With their time up, Mark said his farewells to the shopkeep and left with Daniela. Mark took the seat next to Daniela once they were in the vehicle again.

"I see you conduct business here differently than we do back home. Never would we have given the time of day to deal with someone's family problems regardless of their patronage. It is not our job to play council or babysitter for that matter."

Replying to Mark's concern, Daniela shrugged it off. "Well, it rather makes sense when you think about it. A wise man once said it's better to be both loved and feared than either seperately. I don't just enforce my will and get what I want with violence--like you saw in the park. I also practice some wise politics and do favors to win my people over, as has become obvious. 'Hearts and minds,' as the military types say. This being New Dornalia we're all military types, having done our National Service. I find a little of that keeps me in business. If I have to be a babysitter, so what? I'm godmother to several local families. You don't have to if you don't want to, I'm just indicating that's how I work."

Daniela sensed some of Mark's concerns. Only natural, considering his people prefered to work clandestinely and she did her business publicly as a Robin Hood type. She didn't help but feel it was all a misunderstanding. Mark may not have known that New Dornalian gang warfare also embraced the art of the "hit;" assasinating gang leaders did occur too. But, Dornalian gang warfare also embraced the willful destruction of property, smuggling and violent run-and-gun clashes, with lots of "shock and awe" attached. Frankly, the latter forms of gang warfare were more common here, along with simple spying and "Cold Wars."

Daniela wasn't worried about the former, as she indicated as they came upon their next destination. "Besides, if anybody tries to shoot me...well, remember that sales pitch? I know people, a lot of clients, some allied gangs, and other persons, who are good early warning systems of trouble. Besides, I have ways of keeping myself safe within my organization. I'm not naive."

As she talked, they reached their next destination. Things were pretty uneventful there, with friendly hellos, and a simple request to keep a couple of drunks away from the laundromat. Sure enough, the drunks came, and the only eventful thing to occur happened.

The drunks attempted to rush Daniela, Mark, and the bodyguard. The bodyguard then, reacting swiftly, kneed one of them and threw the man she kneed into the other. She then leveled her gun at the drunks' heads, and then Daniela spoke.

"Gentlemen. Please. Leave these people alone, and leave the shop in peace. I don't want to have to end your lives over your stupidity and inherent moral weaknesses. Well?"

The drunks nodded, and plead for their lives. At that, Daniela managed to have her driver pick up the drunks and then gently place them outside. She then left them with fifty cents each and a phone number to call marked "County Rehabilitation Services," directing them to the nearest payphone. The grateful owners thanked Daniela and she then, in the classic mode of reciprocity had an order placed for a couple of her jackets to be dry cleaned--off the books of course. She paid with cash, and left.

The trip after that was a small hamburger joint, and initially, it seemed like more of the same. Friendly chatting and whatnot in the back with the manager, introducing Mark and asking what needed to be done and what the manager needed to do in compensation. Daniela and the others were at a particularly sticky situation, Until on the security cameras, a couple of masked men walked into the joint and began brandishing weapons at the clerk.

"Gimme the damn money! NOW!"

Daniela sighed. "Shit." Opening her coat, she pulled out her Mini-Uzi and cocked it, and her driver also pulled out her weapon as well. It didn't sound good....

With his own concerns voiced, Mark allowed the conversation to drop. He was neither complaining or criticizing but merely stating what was different between the two groups. As long as Daniela was comfortable in her own methods, then it mattered little to Mark how she accomplished her tasks. It merely reinforced the notion that New Dornalia was grately different in the criminal aspect for here in New Dornalia, a public display of crime appeared to draw less attention and repurcussions than it would on Mythrandir.

Mark followed Daniela out of the car for an uneventful encounter at a laundry establishment where much the same followed over from the liquor store. The only remotely interesting occurance was a few drunks deciding to cause problems for the proprietors. He stood back and watched it all with minor amusement taking note of how the bodyguard and Daniela moved in a fight. At least in one thing there was a commonality in the universe, and that was the tendency for people to delve into the excesses of pleasures.

Once the drunks were off and Daniela had concluded with her laundry list, they were back in the car and headed for their next destination. A fast food establishment was a rarity for the Myth since none existed on Mythrandir. Still, the experience looked to be much of the same back and forth conversation between Daniela and her clients as they talked about minor details. Looking around at the small back room, Mark spotted a pair of men walking in with masks. Not from this particular world, but not a fool either, Mark quickly surmised that this did not fit and would likely produce trouble.

His guess was quickly proven by weapons coming out and Daniela drawing her own. Mark moved away from the wall he was leaning against and moved to study the intruders more closely on the screen. After a moment, he turned his gaze to Daniela. "Need some assistance with this?"

His guess was quickly proven by weapons coming out and Daniela drawing her own. Mark moved away from the wall he was leaning against and moved to study the intruders more closely on the screen. After a moment, he turned his gaze to Daniela. "Need some assistance with this?"

Daniela looked at the screen and observed that the men on the screen had whipped out a couple of pistols and leveled them at the clerk. The pistols looked to be ungainly, cheap things--one an Imperial-pattern Laspistol, the other a worn out .38 revolver. She then scoffed slightly. Amateurs. She felt glad to have her Mini-Uzi; these punks looked easy to stop. They were, however, getting agitated, asking for the money in the registers--as in NOW.

She then looked at them closely, and her sixth sense went off. Something wasn't right about these guys. Definetly not right at all. With the level of access to weapons in New Dornalia, anybody could get decent firepower....Daniela wondered if that hadn't made them all look like rednecks to Mark yet. Looking at her driver, they both nodded, and turned to Mark.

"We may need some help. Something tells me these robbers are packing more than just simple Saturday Night Specials," Daniela said intently. "Could you go with Violeta out front to flank them? I'll go in through the kitchen to the counter and see how they act. I know what I'm doing."

(Thanks for the description.)

Already a number of potential scenarios were playing out in Mark's mind as he studied the primitive weaponry of the two would-be assailants. Judging by what he had seen thus far of New Dornalia, Mark was reaching much the same conclusions as Daniela. The amount of firepower they were bringing to bear did not match up with what he had seen available to the public.

"We may need some help. Something tells me these robbers are packing more than just simple Saturday Night Specials," Daniela said intently. "Could you go with Violeta out front to flank them? I'll go in through the kitchen to the counter and see how they act. I know what I'm doing."

"It's your show and this is your customer. I'll fit in wherever necessary."

Mark pulled back his suit coat and pulled out something that appeared to be undiscernable at the moment. The assassin went to work on it though as he pulled on key parts which helped to extend the object into its fullness. Once everything had been worked out, it appeared as if Mark was now carrying nothing more than a simple crossbow with a wood finish and a plain black metalic bar as the crosspiece. Judging by the way it was packaged though, it would be anything but simple wood and metal.

Ironic for someone to consider weapons that use gunpowder inferior in his mind when his own utilized no visible ammunition. That did not deter the man from leaning it against his shoulder while he stood there.

"I am a gentleman by nature. So . . . ladies first."

Mark pulled back his suit coat and pulled out something that appeared to be undiscernable at the moment. The assassin went to work on it though as he pulled on key parts which helped to extend the object into its fullness. Once everything had been worked out, it appeared as if Mark was now carrying nothing more than a simple crossbow with a wood finish and a plain black metalic bar as the crosspiece. Judging by the way it was packaged though, it would be anything but simple wood and metal.

Ironic for someone to consider weapons that use gunpowder inferior in his mind when his own utilized no visible ammunition. That did not deter the man from leaning it against his shoulder while he stood there.

"I am a gentleman by nature. So . . . ladies first."

Violeta nodded, and her own weapon, a small Kicker Machine Railpistol that was definetly a league apart from the crossbow Mark fielded. Made from rugged composites that looked like they had seen ages of abuse, a stick magazine in the handle and a forward grip for extra control. The taller, more stoic catgirl, silent as a tomb and with a stare like ice, went first, motioning for Mark to follow.

As she rounded the building and went low, she whispered in a husky, Greta Garboesque voice, noticing the crossbow apparently for the first time with surprise and a hint of disdain, "I wasn't aware this was the Ren Faire."

---------

Meanwhile, Daniela breathed in and out, and calmly walked through the door of the backroom, motioning for the manager to stay behind. She then snuck to the kitchen, ducked underneath a fryer, and peered out of a corner. She tried to maintain a low profile, the veteran of many pitched streetfights with gangsters and police alike.

What she saw was a powder keg, to say the least. The men by now had managed to settle into some sort of stalemate with the clerk operating the register. The thugs had the clerk at gunpoint, and were angrily goading him into either shooting or giving over the cash. To his credit, however, the clerk was being surprisingly stoic in the face of weaponry in his face. He was even taunting them. With a smile on his face, Daniela heard him say, "Pansies. Please, only amateurs use a popgun to rob a place like this!" the clerk went. The Clerk's voice smacked of both gallows humor and one laughing in the face of death. He'd evidently been held up before, and had seen it all.

A more desperate, "Really? You think you'll be saying that after I shoot your face in?! HUH!?" was the reply from the robber with the .38. His friend with the Laspistol shakingly raised up the weapon, and emphasized in some garbled, hasty speech the consequences of further resistance. Daniela smiled; the clerk shared her opinion and was the calmer one, versus these amateurs who couldn't even hold a gun straight.

She then spotted the clerk reaching the silent alarm button under the counter, whilst another reached for the shotgun. Shit. With a flick of the switch, the LAPD would be on the scene like flies to a chili cookoff outhouse. She had to act. NOW.

Daniela popped up from behind the counter, holding her Mini-Uzi with two hands at the thugs. With a stern glare on her face, she got into character, dropping the image of the "Nice patron/godmother" and adopting the image of "stone cold killer." If Mark wanted a demo of how Daniela could be, this was it.

"You boys looking for trouble?"

They turned their guns towards Daniela, and Daniela promptly fired on them before they could react, aiming for their chests. They fell down, crumpling like tissue paper.

However, Daniela dragged the clerk down, and ordered him to, "Get the shotgun, and stay the fuck away from the silent alarm." She then peeked, popping up and then dropping down as her quarries got up. She swore to herself. Bulletproof vests. She wasn't surprised. The way these situations always ended up, at least one of these assholes had access to even crude Kevlar vests, which extended one's lifespan in street combat considerably.

What also did not surprise her was the fact the two thugs whipped out bigger weapons than they let on. Laspistol Thug whipped out what looked like a sawed-off side-by-side shotgun, the kind cowboys used to dub a "coach gun." .38 Special Thug whipped out a M3 Grease Gun, and ripped apart some of the cooking equipment with what looked like an old Vietnam War trick--a magazine loaded with all tracers, to confuse a foe and set him/her on fire as his dumb buddy let loose with both barrels with the "shotty," as the locals called shotguns.

Daniela thought simply to herself, "Good thing I brought an automatic." She then turned white as the clerk slammed the Silent Alarm anyway, as she then though, "Oh, shit." If she was going to do something, it was go time. Otherwise, she'd have to answer to the LAPD.

Daniela then lept over the counter, sliding as she did so.....Violeta then motioned to Mark and told him curtly, "Let's go," kicking down the doors.....

Mark smiled at Violeta's remarks, understanding the misconception of the weapon. He realized how inferior the weapon looked to everyone else's but he was certain that such a notion would quickly be erased. Putting all that aside, Mark krept around the side of the restaurant while Daniela did what she could inside.

Eventually gun shots were heard and Mark could only guess things had not gone exactly as planned. The idea was accentuated by multiple patterns of fire from various weapons. Violeta gave the go ahead nod as they crouched around the sides.

Mark's boots helped Violeta kicked the doors in and they were greeted with two thugs brandishing far more impressive weapons than were shown in the surveillance cameras. It mattered little to the assassin. Mark brought his "crossbow" to bear and opened fire. There were no arrows being loaded or anything of that nature that would be seen in something of that medieval nature.

Instead it fed small dart rounds up from a clip underneath the base of the weapon. While it might not do much damage, what happened afterwards showed the miniature weapons true power. The iron dart flew towards its target with true aim though on the way there, the same iron dart combusted and turned into a streak of energy. The energy power blast from the dart raced out towards the thugs which would be more than enough to defeat Kevlar vests. More such energy arrows were quick to follow suit as if it were an automatic crossbow.

Mark smiled at Violeta's remarks, understanding the misconception of the weapon. He realized how inferior the weapon looked to everyone else's but he was certain that such a notion would quickly be erased. Putting all that aside, Mark krept around the side of the restaurant while Daniela did what she could inside.

Eventually gun shots were heard and Mark could only guess things had not gone exactly as planned. The idea was accentuated by multiple patterns of fire from various weapons. Violeta gave the go ahead nod as they crouched around the sides.

Mark's boots helped Violeta kicked the doors in and they were greeted with two thugs brandishing far more impressive weapons than were shown in the surveillance cameras. It mattered little to the assassin. Mark brought his "crossbow" to bear and opened fire. There were no arrows being loaded or anything of that nature that would be seen in something of that medieval nature.

Instead it fed small dart rounds up from a clip underneath the base of the weapon. While it might not do much damage, what happened afterwards showed the miniature weapons true power. The iron dart flew towards its target with true aim though on the way there, the same iron dart combusted and turned into a streak of energy. The energy power blast from the dart raced out towards the thugs which would be more than enough to defeat Kevlar vests. More such energy arrows were quick to follow suit as if it were an automatic crossbow.

Combined with the sudden Hollywood-style slide attack from Daniela, who opened with a second blast at the thugs' midsections and Violeta's blast at their legs, the result was utter devastation. The combined firepower sundered one thug in twain and dealt severe injuries to the other. The survivor slumped down, barely breathing.

Daniela then motioned for Violeta to carry the man to the car, and then turned to the clerk who had tripped the switch. Daniela then grabbed the Clerk and thrust him against the wall. Holding the Uzi up to his head, she then seethed with anger, before thrusting some hush money at him and letting him go.

"Listen, buddy if the cops come, don't tell the cops we were here. You tell them, that will be the last mistake you make. Comprende?" Daniela sounded more exasperated than anything that she had to bloody her hands on such people. The Clerk nodded frantically, scared by the sudden appearance of a crazy dude with a crossbow that fired energy bolts and the almost schizophrenic action of Daniela.

She then screamed, "Anton!" The manager of the store came out, and gasped at the horror. Anton said simply, "I'll make sure the tapes go missing."

Daniela then wrote a number on a sticky note and gave it to Anton. "Here's what I want you to do instead of letting the cops handle this. Call this number, now. Ask for Mehlinda, the Cleaning Lady. Tell her you need a deep cleaning, with plenty of bleach, otherwise the mice will get in, rapidamente. She'll know what to do. She should be here within moments."

Daniela then saw Violeta's car pull up out front, and she then said to Mark, "Let's move."

Emptying a complete cartridge into the restaurant, Mark quickly changed out the magazine. A small bolt ran the length of the shaft of the crossbow that worked as the release mechanism. Marked cranked the lever and sent a small empty cartridge into his waiting hand. Stowing it away so as to not leave any evidence behind, Mark put the casing in his pocket and drew out a full magazine from the inside of coat pocket.

The assassin covered the front entrance just to make sure no one else wanted to move on the trio clearing out the place. Everything appeared to be clear when Daniela called out to him. Not bothering to reduce the crossbow to its miniature travel size, Mark returned the weapon to its holster only instead he slid a small hook into a belt loop hole so that the launch of the crossbow faced down at his feet.

Hurrying out of the place behind Daniela, Mark hopped into the car and slammed the door. "And I thought this was going to be a dreary ride. Now where to?"

Emptying a complete cartridge into the restaurant, Mark quickly changed out the magazine. A small bolt ran the length of the shaft of the crossbow that worked as the release mechanism. Marked cranked the lever and sent a small empty cartridge into his waiting hand. Stowing it away so as to not leave any evidence behind, Mark put the casing in his pocket and drew out a full magazine from the inside of coat pocket.

The assassin covered the front entrance just to make sure no one else wanted to move on the trio clearing out the place. Everything appeared to be clear when Daniela called out to him. Not bothering to reduce the crossbow to its miniature travel size, Mark returned the weapon to its holster only instead he slid a small hook into a belt loop hole so that the launch of the crossbow faced down at his feet.

Hurrying out of the place behind Daniela, Mark hopped into the car and slammed the door. "And I thought this was going to be a dreary ride. Now where to?"

Daniela then got into the car as well, Violeta gunning the engine and busily driving off long before the police could get there. She then reached into the back of the seat, and pulled out several big moist towelettes marked "Shower-Clean." Handing one packet to Mark, she then broke another packet open and began cleaning herself off with it, starting with her face. As she did this, the catgirl leader said, "I'd wipe up what you can now. In case someone else tries to flag us down, I don't want undue attention. And spot, don't rub." Daniela then signaled for the driver to take some side roads, and get to Chinatown, ASAP.

That goal required ducking through midday Los Angeles traffic. It was mercurial, to say the least, LA Traffic. At the best of times, it could be pleasant. At the worst of times, it could either be slow as molasses or the equivalent of a moving demolition derby. Today, it was the derby. Violeta swerved through crazed taxi drivers, jerks who passed driving school by some stroke of dumb luck, and maniacs who had a death wish. The driving was like a spy flick, the soundtrack--Rage Against the Machine's "Bulls on Parade," courtesy of Violeta's choice of preset stations--like something out of an action film.

Surviving LA Traffic, the party got into Chinatown. It was of a different character than Compton. Less dreary, more lively. It had a bit of roughness around the edges, but it was certainly a lot more hospitable and enticing than Compton. Certainly, it had a lot more people, suggesting it was both seen as safer and probably was safer--though in Dornalian Los Angeles, any place was probably safer than Compton.

The car parked behind a restaurant, the "Flying Tigers Cantonese Grill." Daniela immediately ran to the back and knocked on the entrance, with the tapping of the old Burma-Shave ad, "Shave and a haircut/two bits." A Chinese man in a chef's uniform responded, and Daniela said in Cantonese, "I need to see Mr. Kwok. Now." The man nodded, and a few minutes later, a well dressed Chinese man opened the door, and motioned for Daniela, Mark, and Violeta to come inside. Telling his kitchen staff not to talk about the obvious mess Daniela and possibly Mark were in, he led them to the basement, which had a shower, some spare clothes and what looked like a complete "makeover" area for situations like these.

"Good to see you again, Daniela. I must say...it looks like you've gotten into some trouble," Mr. Kwok said in perfectly accented Californian English with a chuckle. Daniela then said, letting out a sarcastic laugh, "Yeah. Ya think? Try getting robbed by a couple of heavily armed robbers and not being on edge." She then grabbed a towel and moved to the shower.

Mr. Kwok nodded and said, stopping the woman, "Of course. Well, for now you can lay low here, in the restaurant." Kwok seemed cheerful enough, and he was a dapper gentleman with a suit and pincenez glasses. In fact, one couldn't tell he was the head of the Red Arrow Triad's operations in Los Angeles, and commanded an army made of Triad regulars and youth gangs under the influence of corrupt Tongs. To many persons, he'd seem the epitome of the successful Chinese restauranteur.

Daniela nodded and said, "Kwok, I've also got something else for ya." She then whipped out a pile of money, counted out five thousand dollars, and tossed it to Kwok. "I need you to clean my car and see the shot up individual inside is nursed to health. His what-used-to-be-a-armor-vest is the only thing keeping him together, along with whatever my driver did and dumb luck." Kwok counted the cash, and said, "No problemo, Daniela. Need any lunch?"

"We had a date, yeah?" Daniela smiled and pointed, bloody finger and all, at the dapper boss. Kwok smiled and said, "Sure;" seeming to take amusement at the act. He then clapped, and out of nowhere, two women popped up. One sported a cheongsam popped up with a paper and pad, a smile, red lipstick, and a bulge in her, um, chest "assets" that looked a bit like where one could be hiding a concealed holster, the other a more professional outfit resembling what the kitchen staff wore, though she looked a bit too beautiful to pull kitchen duty. Daniela nodded, but silently her feminist sensibilities made her a bit disdainful of female "hangerson"--especially how Kwok tended to call them like one would call dogs. Then again, she knew better than to say so in front of Kwok. Kwok then spoke in Cantonese to the Cook, and she went to assist the wounded man, carrying what looked like a bootlegged Red Army Marine Commando Medkit.

"Umm...the lunch can wait. I need to shower." She then left, and Kwok then turned to Mark.

"I haven't seen you here before. You are....?"

Mark took the napkins though he did not really need them. He was far enough away from the would-be-robbers to not catch any blood on himself or his clothing. Regardless, he was grateful for them and used them to clean the sweat off his face and to restore his hair to its former place. Despite two burglars on the floor bleeding to death, everything seemed to have gone well enough.

Except it seemed like Mark's turbulant ride had only just begun. The assassin could not tell which was worse to his senses, the music that the driver had decided to put on speaker or the way she drove. Diving in and out of other cars, it all had Mark hanging on to the handles to keep from falling into Daniela's lap. Not that the thought disturbed him any, he simply did not relish being off balance.

A new experience was before him now as he came into a place that was called Chinatown by Daniela. It was another foreign experience for him that had his eyes scanning every corner and rooftop. Once inside, the assassin felt a little more at ease but was still on alert when he met the proprietor of the restaurant. The man was unique to point out his dress and mannerisms.

Mark remained where he was while Daniela saw to her shower. His eyes quickly darted and scanned over the pair of women that appeared then drifted back to the two figures that commanded his attention. They talked of eating lunch, but the smell in the room caused Mark to think that he would pass on the food.

Kwok's question brought Mark out of his thoughts about good home food. "My name is Mark. I am the owner of the Check'N'Cashing bank in Compton and a friend of Daniela."

Mark remained where he was while Daniela saw to her shower. His eyes quickly darted and scanned over the pair of women that appeared then drifted back to the two figures that commanded his attention. They talked of eating lunch, but the smell in the room caused Mark to think that he would pass on the food.

Kwok's question brought Mark out of his thoughts about good home food. "My name is Mark. I am the owner of the Check'N'Cashing bank in Compton and a friend of Daniela."

"I see." Kwok nodded. This Mark fellow seemed alright, but he was a new guy and frankly, he seemed unnerved by the environment, or the food, or both. Deciding to keep his criminality somewhat hidden, he decided to play his restauranteur role up for now.

Kwok, keeping in character, spoke thusly.

"I am Michael Kwok. I am the manager of the Flying Tigers Cantonese Grill, a fine Chinese restaurant. I also am a famed local philantrophist and am also a friend of Daniela's, as you can see." He then motioned to the showers, and said, in a deadpan manner, "I help her out sometimes with sensitive matters, such as cleaning cars, and cleaning unwanted bloodstains."

He then asked the same question that Daniela once asked of him, with a mix of curiosity and slight probing.

"Judging from your reaction to the food and the environment, I sense you're not from around here. What part of this world do you hail from?"

Whoever this man was, Mark was not entirely sure how much he could be trusted. It was obvious that Daniela trusted him but that did not mean that the Cantonese owner fit into the Gauntlet's plans. During his short time in New Dornalia, Mark knew he needed a viable story for his origins to make all of his work look legitimate.

"I am actually from the east coast. I don't really hold to Cantonese, prefer ma's good ole fashion home cooked meal."

His eyes quickly flitted to the shower as he wondered when Daniela was going to finish up and return. He didn't relish the notion of the owner becoming to personal with him.

"How long have you been a friend of Daniela?"

Whoever this man was, Mark was not entirely sure how much he could be trusted. It was obvious that Daniela trusted him but that did not mean that the Cantonese owner fit into the Gauntlet's plans. During his short time in New Dornalia, Mark knew he needed a viable story for his origins to make all of his work look legitimate.

"I am actually from the east coast. I don't really hold to Cantonese, prefer ma's good ole fashion home cooked meal."

His eyes quickly flitted to the shower as he wondered when Daniela was going to finish up and return. He didn't relish the notion of the owner becoming to personal with him.

"How long have you been a friend of Daniela?"

Kwok nodded, holding an neutral expression at his mention of his dislike of Cantonese cuisine. It dismayed him to know that there were some who still didn't appreciate Chinese food, but as he recognized there were still pockets of individuals for whom even the most Americanized Chop Suey was still something equivalent to a Martian landing on Earth. He let the disapproval go.

Kwok sized up Mark, as he spoke. "I've known her for a while now. Being that we both share a stake in the restaurant business and we're both great philantrophists, we tend to do one another favors, provide support whenever it's needed and even have long talks on many subjects. She's very literate for a woman of her background; reads the newspaper, and can offer an informed opinion on many things." As he spoke, he formed a clearer opinion of the man in front of him.

Though alright, Mark seemed withdrawn, eager not to move much unless Daniela was there. He was hiding something. Kwok had a good feeling that it would be best not to probe, unless he wanted something rather nasty to occur. That sort of event could not be afforded.

Fortunately, Daniela came out, dressed in the form of a dress shirt, slacks and a tie. Feeling slightly uncomfortable with the formalistic clothes, she kept them on in order to throw off any potential trackers. She then quipped, "I see you two are having a nice chat. So, where's lunch?"

Kwok replied, "Anytime you wish. I have the whole afternoon free." At that, Daniela asked for a pen and paper, not willing to make the Cheongsam Woman work again. Kwok nodded and handed Daniela a pen and paper. Scribbling some items down, she looked at Mark and asked, "What would you like?"

Kwok then leaned in and whispered, "I don't think he's had Chinese before. I'd suggest the Beginner's Plate of Beef Chow Mein and a couple of Egg Rolls." Daniela nodded and scribbled the choice down, making it a Lunch Plate for its smaller size. Just to be safe, she also ordered a Turkey Sandwich and a coke with some potato salad from Felipe's Sandwiches, on the border of Chinatown and the other parts. Then, she passed the list to Kwok and nodded. He didn't mind the addition, considering Mark's skepticism. If he wouldn't eat one, he'd eat the other.

He then went upstairs, and a few minutes later, he came down. "Also, the car's been sent to one of my shops. It's being scrubbed down and 'disinfected.' As for your man, the boy you brought here's in a mess. I've got Kimberley fixing him up right now. She's manage to staunch the bleeding and remove the bullets and railgun slugs. The challenge now remains to do cleanup--seal up the wounds, wash him up and nurse him back to health." Daniela then nodded.

Mark took note of the extent that this man, Kwok, was involved with Daniela. The educated sort did not disturb the man but he was more concerned with how this Cantonese owner would fit into their plans. Friendship was not always neccessary in his line of work so while he kept a pleasant enough smile, his analytical mind was wondering where everything would fit. It was his hope that in time, more would be revealed to him about this man and to what extent he would be of use. If not, then he would have to sever his ties with this man.

The sight of Daniela in more formal clothing was a pleasant change of pace. "You look nice."

When she asked him what he wanted, Mark could only shrug. He had no idea what was on the menu for this sort of establishment and could only reply with, "Whatever you recommend."

Mark couldn't help but tilt an ear their way when they began talking about a wounded man during the fight. Being in his sort of profession, Mark was acutely aware of the physical anatomy of humans not to mention elves, dwarves, and orcs when it came to how critical areas of the body functioned. "Does she require any assistance? I might be able to help if she needs it."

Mark took note of the extent that this man, Kwok, was involved with Daniela. The educated sort did not disturb the man but he was more concerned with how this Cantonese owner would fit into their plans. Friendship was not always neccessary in his line of work so while he kept a pleasant enough smile, his analytical mind was wondering where everything would fit. It was his hope that in time, more would be revealed to him about this man and to what extent he would be of use. If not, then he would have to sever his ties with this man.

The sight of Daniela in more formal clothing was a pleasant change of pace. "You look nice."

When she asked him what he wanted, Mark could only shrug. He had no idea what was on the menu for this sort of establishment and could only reply with, "Whatever you recommend."

Mark couldn't help but tilt an ear their way when they began talking about a wounded man during the fight. Being in his sort of profession, Mark was acutely aware of the physical anatomy of humans not to mention elves, dwarves, and orcs when it came to how critical areas of the body functioned. "Does she require any assistance? I might be able to help if she needs it."

Kwok then replied with a nod, "Yes please. Lunch will be ready in about fifteen minutes, so feel free to render assistance in the while." He then turned to Daniela and said, "Want to go help him?" Daniela nodded and followed Mark, wanting to see how her man was doing. Kwok stopped them temporarily, and then had one of his assistants help out. He instructed the woman in Cantonese, "Lead Daniela and her friend to Chang's Garage."

When the two did leave with the woman, who was dressed simply, they would find the auto in a garage marked "Chang's Auto Supplies and Garage." Luckily for them, it wasn't too far. It was actually just across the way, in another alley, not but fifty feet from the restaurant. Katherine was working on the wounded man in a jerry-rigged operating room, which used to be a supply area. The woman evidently had medical training too, for the room looked extensively sterilzed and she was deftly sealing a spot that should have remained sealed in the first place. The tools were well laid out, and there was a sink, stopped and filled with some very strong medical alcohol and nanotech solution to keep the tools in good shape. A bottle of anathestic ampules and a hypospray was nearby, and one looked used.

Looking up at the new arrivals, the escort and Katherine traded words in Cantonese, and Katherine then motioned for Mark. She then said to him, "Come here. I need some help sealing these wounds. Whatever happened to this man was quite extensive in terms of damage. I managed to get a lot of it, but he still needs a little work done. Work as quickly as you can. We only got a few to finish up and get this guy in working order. After all, it's lunch hour, but people still come in for service....and the anasthetic's due to shut off in two hours."

Heading through the restaurant and out the door, Mark followed the group to where the garage housed a wounded man. Inside the garage, a well laid out makeshift infirmary greeted his eyes. He calmly walked over and studied the utensils laid out on a table along with the wounds and blood stains covering the unfortunate man.

Mark removed his coat, while his crossbow still hung in its latch, and asked Daniela nicely to hold it for him. With the coat taken care of, Mark unfastened the buttons on his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves. Not to medigate any of the work the woman already had accomplished, Mark cleansed his hands to prevent any infection.

Mark grabbed a series of needles and thread for stitching along with a scapel and miniscule pair of scissors. All tools needed at hand, Mark went to work on the nearest wound while staying out of the woman's way. Without a word to distract her, he went to work searching out bits of shrapnel to remove. Tiny metalic peices were deposited on a nearby table followed by a bloody tool so Mark could go in and seal any tears in tissue or organs. Working his way up, it eventually came to stitching up the open wounds where he worked the needle as quickly as possible.

Mark had never been a doctor himself but he had enough control over a needle and the workings of the body to pass at least as an assistant. "How are we looking?"

Katherine nodded and said simply, "Good. Our boy's looking healthier by the minute." Working the tools and finishing up on the injured man on her side, she maintained a clear, dedicated focus and a stern gaze on the instruments. Working in tandem with Mark's own surgical knowledge, she stitched up the man's wounds and let him rest. As Katherine did so, Mark would find she wasn't the social type, sure to be a welcome relief among the Dornalian underworld, who seemed to chatter a lot and try to lay on buckets of charm as they got things done.

Daniela, meanwhile, kept people away, and wondered how the food was going.....until when all was said and done, Katherine said to both of them, "Right. Daniela, put on some gloves and help me clean up this stuff. Mark, please assist. The car should be clean by now, so we will drive our man back to the restaurant. Hopefully by now lunch is ready. Whilst you two and the Boss dine, what do you want to do with this one?"

Daniela became suspicious of the man on the table, and said with a point and a glare, "Prep him for interrogation. I think that's what we said before. I want to know how two-bit thugs like him get firepower, and why they wait until I show up to open fire with the big guns. Something's up." Daniela was, quite simply put, scared for her life, and wanted to double check on the possiblity now brewing in her mind that the ever irascible opposition felt slighted since that night.....

The silent work was a welcomed change of pace as he was able to focus on the task at hand instead of watching what was said around him. By the end of it all, he had come to appreciate the doctor at least for her focus on a particular task. Clipping the ends of the final strand, Mark tied the last stitch line on his end off.

Mark grabbed up the tools he was using for surgery and began washing them as best as he could. As soon as the man was removed and put into the car, the assassin went over the operating table as well to make sure what blood traces there were, were removed. With that finished, Mark headed back to the sink and washed his own hands. The smell of blood did not bother him, he just preferred not to smell it while he ate.

Finished with his end of cleanup, Mark walked back over with the rest of the group. Something had Daniela unnerved, that was plain enough to tell. Unfortunately, they did not have him back where the Gauntlet was waiting or they would have been able to perform other types of "interrogation" that might help the man find his tongue.

Mark took back his coat and threw it around his shoulders. "Worried about a rival?"

The silent work was a welcomed change of pace as he was able to focus on the task at hand instead of watching what was said around him. By the end of it all, he had come to appreciate the doctor at least for her focus on a particular task. Clipping the ends of the final strand, Mark tied the last stitch line on his end off.

Mark grabbed up the tools he was using for surgery and began washing them as best as he could. As soon as the man was removed and put into the car, the assassin went over the operating table as well to make sure what blood traces there were, were removed. With that finished, Mark headed back to the sink and washed his own hands. The smell of blood did not bother him, he just preferred not to smell it while he ate.

Finished with his end of cleanup, Mark walked back over with the rest of the group. Something had Daniela unnerved, that was plain enough to tell. Unfortunately, they did not have him back where the Gauntlet was waiting or they would have been able to perform other types of "interrogation" that might help the man find his tongue.

Mark took back his coat and threw it around his shoulders. "Worried about a rival?"


Daniela sighed and said, rolling her eyes, "Just the usual gang of fools. Those people who you had the unfortunate privelege to witness out there in the park last night. They are my rivals. I wouldn't be surprised if they did hatch a plan to retaliate over a little thing like the park by sneaking in big artillery like that by disguising a hit as a fast food robbery. Though considering the kinds of lightbulbs they hire...." At that point, her voice trailed off and she sighed again. The sighs of annoyance laid bare another side of Daniela. Not the violent killer or the kind, friendly Godmother, but a woman with the weight of an empire on her shoulders for which time had proven time and again the hazards of her job. She immediately shook her head and lit up another cigarette. Puffing, a smile cracked back on her face, as she said, "Well, no matter. Once our man wakes up, I have a few moves in mind that will make him spill the beans, as it were. That way, we can all go home easy."

At that, the woman in the Cheongsam walked downstairs, and said, "Sir, ma'am, your food is ready." Daniela nodded, and said, "Let's go." The woman led them through the busy restaurant, full of Chinese and Anglo customers at round tables with waiters and carts of dumplings and food moving about and jostling past one another. All sorts of smells common to Daniela but foreign to Mark would enter their senses, and the sounds of Cantonese, Mandarin, and the different dialects of Chinese would filter in along with some Spanish and English.

The woman led them, however, to a more private spot. A back banquet room it was filled with men in suits, who looked like either businessmen or hired toughs in suits or big-shot types in general. All seemed rather suspicious, or would to anybody not in Daniela and Mark's line of work. They sat at the tables, eating, though also watching the entrances. Kwok was waiting at one of the corner tables, flanked by two women in suits with sunglasses. Upon noticing the pair, he smiled and motioned to Daniela, saying, "Please, come, come! The food is ready!" Daniela led Mark to the table and sat down. Kwok then said to both of them, "I am glad you could join me. This area is a little more quiet than the main hall--so I use it for people like us." With a wink, Daniela understood what he meant, and said gratefully, "You got that right."

The food would be what was ordered. Located on a rotating plate in the middle of the table, Kwok spun around a plate of Beef Chow Mein and what looked like a sandwich--a Western-style sandwich--to Mark. He motioned to it, and said, "For you, Mark. We figured you needed something to start with that would ease you into Chinese cooking."

A thought of reiterating Mark's earlier notion of killing the thugs floated through the assassin's mind but he allowed it to pass. There was no sense in revisiting the past. What was, was and what is, is. All that remained now was dealing with the current threat at hand before anymore reared their ugly heads. If this matter would follow traditional patterns, the confrontations would gradually increase in time until Daniela was eliminated or the head of the group was satisified that a point had been made.

The Gauntlet tended not to stop unless all targets had been eliminated. Though that was Mythrandir and something told Mark that things worked differently in New Dornalia. For the time being, he would have to wait and see how these criminals operated. It would prove useful in the future when dealing with the refuse.

Mark heard the woman's statement without ever turning around. There was time for concern about this later, now was a time to eat and prepare for the next outting. He quietly followed Daniela and the others back to the restaurant where they navigated a series of tables, patrons, and waitresses until they made their way into a more secluded dining area.

Surrounding them, were men dressed in suits that Mark could only assume were either servants or bodyguards. Given the man's current preference in women as attendants and judging by the fact that he kept Daniela as company, these men must be guards. The next line of questioning was what exactly was it that this man Kwok truly did for a living.

When he sat down at the table, a plate of food along with a sandwich of sorts was turned his way. Mark smiled and took the items of food and gave his thanks. The food was something outside of his own tastebuds but it was not as strong as the smell itself so it went down easy enough. After a couple of bites, the food tasted fine to him which made eating much easier.

"Mr. Kwok, you have a nice Chinese restaurant here. Perhaps you could tell me what else it is you do?"

A thought of reiterating Mark's earlier notion of killing the thugs floated through the assassin's mind but he allowed it to pass. There was no sense in revisiting the past. What was, was and what is, is. All that remained now was dealing with the current threat at hand before anymore reared their ugly heads. If this matter would follow traditional patterns, the confrontations would gradually increase in time until Daniela was eliminated or the head of the group was satisified that a point had been made.

The Gauntlet tended not to stop unless all targets had been eliminated. Though that was Mythrandir and something told Mark that things worked differently in New Dornalia. For the time being, he would have to wait and see how these criminals operated. It would prove useful in the future when dealing with the refuse.

Mark heard the woman's statement without ever turning around. There was time for concern about this later, now was a time to eat and prepare for the next outting. He quietly followed Daniela and the others back to the restaurant where they navigated a series of tables, patrons, and waitresses until they made their way into a more secluded dining area.

Surrounding them, were men dressed in suits that Mark could only assume were either servants or bodyguards. Given the man's current preference in women as attendants and judging by the fact that he kept Daniela as company, these men must be guards. The next line of questioning was what exactly was it that this man Kwok truly did for a living.

When he sat down at the table, a plate of food along with a sandwich of sorts was turned his way. Mark smiled and took the items of food and gave his thanks. The food was something outside of his own tastebuds but it was not as strong as the smell itself so it went down easy enough. After a couple of bites, the food tasted fine to him which made eating much easier.

"Mr. Kwok, you have a nice Chinese restaurant here. Perhaps you could tell me what else it is you do?"

Daniela was more focused on the number of guards in the room. The number of sharp-dressed men made her raise eyebrows, and she could only say to Kwok, "Kwok. My boy. Tell the bodyguards to vamoose. This is our time, remember?" This was done with a smile that let Kwok know she was somewhat uncomfortable with the security.

Kwok then snapped his fingers and called out in Cantonese. Immediately, only a couple of the men were left as the rest filed out of the room, shrugging and complying with their bosses's order. Kwok then said, sighing, "I suppose the Charade is over, then. Mark, you are rather insightful, and Daniela, you never cease to amaze." Daniela smiled and lit up a cigarette, saying, "But of course."

Kwok then leaned forward and spoke. He rolled up a sleeve to reveal a tattoo with a red arrow symbol, before putting it back down.

"What is said here does not leave this room, Mark. I will tell it to you straight. I am not just the manager of this restaurant and a friend of the community. I am also the local head of the Red Arrow Organization's operations for the Los Angeles area and Southern California in general. The Boss, if you will."

Daniela nodded, and said, "He's a Triad. One of the many groups I find helpful."

Kwok said in reply, smiling but somewhat defensive, "I prefer the term 'Fraternal Organization' or 'Hongman Society.' Triad sounds so backwards. Conjures up images of opium dens and Chinamen stealing the womenfolk." Scooping up some food and eating, he continued. The way he did so suggested he seemed reluctant to reveal his Triad affiliation.

"Semantics aside, I help out our mutual friend Daniela sometimes. We have understandings and alliances that work towards our...mutual benefit."

"Come clean, Kwok. We both know we collaborate on things." Mark was then treated to Daniela going, initially somewhat fast but then slowing and quieting after pausing for a moment to keep her voice low, "Take it from me. My girls may know how to make checks and C-bills that look like the real thing....but his boys and girls are the masters of making C-Bills, John Morrison polo shirts and certified checks so real Anti-Smuggling has a hard time telling real from fake. I will admit that readily. Not to mention your brother's construction outfit uses my girls a lot....and not just for construction either." She then imitated a loaded pistol with her hand, suggesting just what the catgirls working construction did on the side.....

Kwok smiled and chuckled, with genuine embarassment and modesty in force, "You do me too much credit, Daniela. After all, your organization does a good job itself. Don't undervalue your current stock. My experts like what they see. Besides, your organization has some things of value too....your soldiers, your drugs, your access to guns, your plasmids and other such goodies. We'd be dead without them."

"And that's why we're a team." Daniela said, warming up once more.

Kwok nodded and turned to Mark. He then asked the Myth, inquisitively, "Now, if I may pry....what is it you do?"

Mark sat back easily listening to Kwok's explanation on how involved he was with Daniela and how far his criminal background and expertise went. He continued to eat while he listened as he continued to grow with the taste. Noodles slid into his mouth along with small pieces of beef as the assassin did his best to use the odd wooden sticks that were provided as eating utensils.

Kwok nodded and turned to Mark. He then asked the Myth, inquisitively, "Now, if I may pry....what is it you do?"

Mark wiped the corners of his mouth off with a napkin before answering. "What is it that I do? Well that is a far more interesting question than a simple job description. For one, I run the Check'N'Cashing bank in Compton but I imagine you know that already. Currently I don't do much of anything right now other than act as Daniela's male escort for the evening.

On the side I am a member of an organization called the Velvet Gauntlet. My associates and I run various businesses that answer to that group. Overall the Gauntlet has a finger in almost every criminal aspect imagineable. Currently we are looking to extend our reach here to this region where we our markets will hopefully grow bringing more wealth to our organization."

Throughout it all, Mark was careful not to let on to where he was from or from what planet. Instead, he kept everything generalized so that he could answer Kwok's question without giving too much away but still hopefully satisfying his curiosity.

Mark sat back easily listening to Kwok's explanation on how involved he was with Daniela and how far his criminal background and expertise went. He continued to eat while he listened as he continued to grow with the taste. Noodles slid into his mouth along with small pieces of beef as the assassin did his best to use the odd wooden sticks that were provided as eating utensils.

Kwok nodded and turned to Mark. He then asked the Myth, inquisitively, "Now, if I may pry....what is it you do?"

Mark wiped the corners of his mouth off with a napkin before answering. "What is it that I do? Well that is a far more interesting question than a simple job description. For one, I run the Check'N'Cashing bank in Compton but I imagine you know that already. Currently I don't do much of anything right now other than act as Daniela's male escort for the evening.

On the side I am a member of an organization called the Velvet Gauntlet. My associates and I run various businesses that answer to that group. Overall the Gauntlet has a finger in almost every criminal aspect imagineable. Currently we are looking to extend our reach here to this region where we our markets will hopefully grow bringing more wealth to our organization."

Throughout it all, Mark was careful not to let on to where he was from or from what planet. Instead, he kept everything generalized so that he could answer Kwok's question without giving too much away but still hopefully satisfying his curiosity.

Kwok nodded. Like the last time he had a hunch, he had a hunch that Mark knew a bit more than he was letting on. Then again, something told him that pressing the issue wasn't wise--once more, he held back and greeted the revelation with a nod. He then replied with, "Velvet Gauntlet, I see. Must be a new group, or a secretive one. After all, it is only now I heard about it."

He then ate some of his food, and paused for a moment to ponder the new group in front of him. A forward-thinking individual, two things were on his mind. Being new or secretive, if Daniela only just now heard about the Gauntlet than Daniela might be being used--or spied upon. But if it was clear that if Daniela knew about it, she would more than likely have struck a deal with this "Gauntlet" group to help them get a foothold into LA County. If this was true, then the Gauntlet could be trusted, though its covert nature would be something to be cautious about.

He decided to test out the newcomer. He asked Mark with a laugh, "Male escort? You don't look like a gigolo. Tell me, how did you meet our mutual friend?"

Daniela interjected with a, "I found him eating in my restaurant. Chatted him up. Then, he gave me his card, and we met later that night to discuss things." Like Mark, she was also vague. But, to Kwok, at least he knew Daniela and Daniela didn't generally lie. Dealt in half-truths and left specifics out yes, but she didn't outright lie. Kwok smiled and said, "Like my mother's romance movies. It always starts by serendipity...."

"Well we have only just recently begun expanding to other areas so it is not surprising that you have not heard of us."

Every world had its different tendancies and customs along with their own language. Some terms were unknown to Mark as Kwok spoke though he assumed that the Chinese owner had mistaken Mark's own meaning. Regardless of the differences in life, the Myth was still able to follow the discussion.

Mark allowed Daniela to answer while he took a drink of water from his glass. "I cannot say that our relationship is anything romantic. After our meeting that night, Daniela offered to show me around town and introduce me to a few of her friends. All excitement aside, our travels so far have lead us here."

"Well we have only just recently begun expanding to other areas so it is not surprising that you have not heard of us."

Every world had its different tendancies and customs along with their own language. Some terms were unknown to Mark as Kwok spoke though he assumed that the Chinese owner had mistaken Mark's own meaning. Regardless of the differences in life, the Myth was still able to follow the discussion.

Mark allowed Daniela to answer while he took a drink of water from his glass. "I cannot say that our relationship is anything romantic. After our meeting that night, Daniela offered to show me around town and introduce me to a few of her friends. All excitement aside, our travels so far have lead us here."

Kwok nodded and said, shaking his head, "I am sorry; perhaps I made a mistake, then. In our business, the word 'escort' usually has much more seedy connotations. At least the Los Angeles Police Department and the men of the Internal Security Bureau's Anti-Smuggling Division would have you believe that."

Daniela proceeded to lean in, and make an inquiry. "Kwok...since we're here....about that shipment of plasmids going to your boys out in the boonies?"

To that, the Triad lord wagged a finger slowly and said, "Daniela, Daniela. You're making yourself look overly worried in front of our guest. I wouldn't worry about the reception of the goods by the respective branch offices of our Hongman's Fraternity in New Chicago. My contacts in the local Harbormaster's Office have it so we can move safely without the New Chicago Planetary Sheriff's Department or ISB getting nosy."

"Well, that's a relief," Daniela nodded and said.

Mark couldn't help but over hear their conversation as Kwok and Daniela discussed a shipment of goods called Plasmids. The Myth wasn't sure what Plasmids were since he had never heard the term before but he had to assume that they were either drugs or weapons. Whatever it was, it was foreign to items brought from Mythrandir. Aside from being an assassin, he was also a decent enough business man and wherever there was a good; there was always a market.

"Come now, I am sure everything will be just fine. Let's enjoy the meal for awhile.

Besides, why are these Plasmids such a concern to you Daniela?"

Mark couldn't help but over hear their conversation as Kwok and Daniela discussed a shipment of goods called Plasmids. The Myth wasn't sure what Plasmids were since he had never heard the term before but he had to assume that they were either drugs or weapons. Whatever it was, it was foreign to items brought from Mythrandir. Aside from being an assassin, he was also a decent enough business man and wherever there was a good; there was always a market.

"Come now, I am sure everything will be just fine. Let's enjoy the meal for awhile.

Besides, why are these Plasmids such a concern to you Daniela?"

Kwok nodded and said, "Yes, I do believe it is time to eat, not chat about business." Daniela nodded and said, "No problemo. If you say so." As she spoke to Kwok, Daniela heard Mark ask about Plasmids.

Daniela perked at the mention of Plasmids. Mark didn't quite pick up on them yet, but Daniela had a good reason to light up, especially with a justifiable sense of pride. With said pride, Daniela began chatting.

"Plasmids are one of my group's specialities! They're a really wonderful invention. How do I put this....they're some kind of injectable biological stem cell compound that can grant people powers." Turning to Kwok, she then asked, "Care to give him a demonstration?"

At that, Kwok nodded and snapped his fingers. As if by magic, the woman who led them in walked into the room. Bowing the two began conversing in Cantonese, and the result was that the woman nodded and picked up an empty plate from the serving tray. Then, she threw it in the air, barely missing the ceiling.

As this was done, the woman thrust out her right arm, and unleashed a gout of ice from her hand. The perfectly timed strike hit the plate and froze it into a brittle chunk of ice, whereupon she held out her other hand and shot at it with a lightning bolt, blowing it to bits.

It was then made plain what powered her abilities. Daniela pointed to the hands and upper arms and said, "Plasmids are injected into the upper arm, and allowed to cause mutations that produce the desired superpowers. They do have a couple of drawbacks--one needs to inject themselves every so often with a serum that provides energy for the Plasmid, and the Plasmids can be addictive." She then added to reassure Mark, "Only if you lean on them too much."

Daniela then said, with a reassuring smile, "But, they're well worth it. After all, anybody who's normally magic, Force or psychically deficient can suddenly become a formidable opponent in that arena, and having those abilities when times get tough can be a good thing."

Mark stopped eat his meal for a moment to watch the demonstration on what plasmids could actually do. The woman from earlier walked into the dining room and was instructed to do something. Mark wondered if these were more of a drug than any real weapon and was expecting to actually see the substance carried in by the woman. Instead, she simply stood there and picked up an empty plate.

The assassin's confusion was increased when she tossed the dish into the air, close to the ceiling. What came next had the normally reserved man, staring at the ice cloud long after the plate had been destroyed. Mark wasn't sure if his eyes had been deceived at first or if this was not indeed magic of some sort.

When the dust had finally settled, Mark regained some of his poise and turned back to his dinner party. "They are certainly interesting and I can see how these plasmids can make anyone a formidable foe. How many different abilities are there that you can create?"

Mark stopped eat his meal for a moment to watch the demonstration on what plasmids could actually do. The woman from earlier walked into the dining room and was instructed to do something. Mark wondered if these were more of a drug than any real weapon and was expecting to actually see the substance carried in by the woman. Instead, she simply stood there and picked up an empty plate.

The assassin's confusion was increased when she tossed the dish into the air, close to the ceiling. What came next had the normally reserved man, staring at the ice cloud long after the plate had been destroyed. Mark wasn't sure if his eyes had been deceived at first or if this was not indeed magic of some sort.

When the dust had finally settled, Mark regained some of his poise and turned back to his dinner party. "They are certainly interesting and I can see how these plasmids can make anyone a formidable foe. How many different abilities are there that you can create?"

"Many, many abilities. Fire, ice, wind, emotional manipulation, the ability to distract security and some strains even let you commandeer bees. Killer bees!" Daniela said the last part with some incredulity, as if the ability for a man with plasmids to summon a swarm of bees to rain death upon an opponent was still somehow out of her grasp, despite the fact she witnessed it a lot. Maybe she was still trying to process it, and was in awe. One thing was for sure. She sure appreciated them.

"Yes, indeed," Kwok noted with a chuckle. Sensing some amusement at her enthusiasm, Daniela backed off and coughed, saying, "Sorry. Too into the moment." She then became serious again, and asked, "Were you interested in some?"

The list of abilities was astounding as Mark listened to them all stoically. The mention of bees had his mind reeling and he was not exactly sure how possible that was. It was somewhat surprising to see Daniela get worked up the way she was since the woman was normally more in control than she was now.

Mark's mind began racing with the possibilities of using these plasmids and what it all could gain the Gauntlet. He was not so focused on his homeworld as he was other worlds in the universe. These items could greatly help ease the Gauntlet's reach to other systems.

The assassin struck a pensive pose as if trying to decide if he was even interested or not. "I would be interested to see how they work on something other than a dinner plate."

The list of abilities was astounding as Mark listened to them all stoically. The mention of bees had his mind reeling and he was not exactly sure how possible that was. It was somewhat surprising to see Daniela get worked up the way she was since the woman was normally more in control than she was now.

Mark's mind began racing with the possibilities of using these plasmids and what it all could gain the Gauntlet. He was not so focused on his homeworld as he was other worlds in the universe. These items could greatly help ease the Gauntlet's reach to other systems.

The assassin struck a pensive pose as if trying to decide if he was even interested or not. "I would be interested to see how they work on something other than a dinner plate."

To that, Daniela said, nodding and understanding that Mark was debating whether to acquire them or not, "We might be able to see that soon in combat, I think. Once our man wakes up and we interrogate him--"

Kwok's phone rang and promptly interrupted the occasion. With an apologetic sigh, he said, "Excuse me. Some people don't understand I don't take calls while eating."

He then chatted away in Cantonese for a brief moment before he hung up. With a grim tone he said, "Daniela, our man's up. Katherine says she's available."

At that, the catgirl knew what was up, and said, "Thanks, Kwok." She then finished her plate and said, "Come on, Mark. We got business to do."

When Mark finished his plate and the meal was done, the three adjourned to the basement, the Cheongsam Woman cleaning up after the group. Descending into the basement, Kwok eventually located a small room, where Katherine was standing by. Mark was allowed in, and the door shut and white noise activated.

Sitting in a simple oak chair, she faced the now awake would-be-robber, bound in his own oak chair, with a silenced pistol of some sort and a stern gaze. The robber glared at Daniela, but Katherine's pistol kept him silent, along with her gaze. Daniela smiled evilly at the robber, and said, "So, you think I could be killed that easily, eh? Think you can fuck with me?"

To that, the robber sneered at the catgirl. Defiantly, he stated, "I ain't saying shit. Ain't nobody gonna waste their bullets on your skanky ass. I just happened to have my piece because you came shooting."

"Likely story," Daniela said. Kwok motioned to Katherine, who pulled out a syringe of some sort, and began filling it with a clear fluid. "You know there are plenty of people who think the opposite."

"YEah?"

"Yeah." Daniela took the syringe, and fiddled with it to get it right. As she did so, the robber laughed. "Oh please. Don't tell me you're gonna try using that hypno-truth crap on me, are you? That's old."

Daniela calmly replied, with a voice as icy as death itself, "Old? Old yes, but effective yes. You'll see in several minutes." She then jabbed the syringe into the man's upper arm, and then let it go. Several seconds were allowed to pass, and the robber shook his head.

Defiantly, he said, "That's it? Please. Ask me a question, cause I feel damn fine."

OOC: THis next part may be a little bit much for some readers. Sensitive readers should skip this section. You have been warned.

IC:


Amicably, Daniela said, "Okay. I'll ask you two. One, did you notice that giant slug slithering up your leg, leaving a nasty slime trail?"

Mark and Daniela and the others would notice nothing much, except a man freaking out at nothing. But the robber would begin noticing a giant slug, sure enough, slithering up and down, taunting him almost with its antennae as it left a nasty, slimy trail. It was cold, nasty, and eerie and ugly, and the robber wanted it to stop.

"And two. Why did you shoot me with the big guns, when you robbed the others with small guns? I know I must be worth something if you have to use big guns on me," Daniela asked, leaning in closer.

"Jesus....I ain't talkin'--OH GOD!" The Robber was getting irritated and freaked out by the imaginary slug, but he was holding firm. Daniela decided to up the pressure, smiling once more.

"Okay then. While you were being obstinate, more slugs started coming. Seems this one liked you so much, he brought friends."

Now, the man would see an army of slugs crawling up his legs, slithering into pockets, shoes, everywhere. His calm demeanor was gone, and his bravado was gone. He was now officially frightened, and began yelping in fear, attempting to remove his clothing.

With an edge of vicious glee, she then whispered into his ear, "You know that just makes them vicious! They like blood! Especially the blood of those who lie...."

The man then felt gnawing, and biting, as he saw some of his phantom slugs begin exposing teeth and spikes, and hissing with accusatory stares with antennae. He was now sweating bullets, and positively senseless with fear. Again, Daniela and the others would see nothing but a man yelping at shadows.

Gesturing out into the distance, she said calmly, "...and boy did they spot a smorgasbord!"

At that, the sight of an entire armada became too much. The man screamed, sobbing, "MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"

OOC: Controversial material ends here.

Kwok was about to intervene, when Daniela held her hand up and asked, "Well?"

Sobbing, the man said, "There's a bounty on you from 14th Street and the Aztlans. Ever since the Aimsley Park Incident. We didn't know you'd be there but once we saw you we figured we'd collect! Word is they've got regulars going out on the warpath as well! They're mad! MAD! MADDDD!"

At that, Daniela was satisfied, and said, "The slugs are gone, by the way. It's all in your head." The man got up, shuddering. She then leaned in and said, "Now, tell me the truth. Is there really a bounty on me? I won't hurt you this time."

The man skeptically looked at Daniela, and she nodded. The look in his eyes was honest, and he said, "Yes. Those damn slugs got to me....but yeah, its the truth."

The cocktail of psychedelic drugs and truth serum, plus good judgment by Daniela, paid off. She then made a few phone calls, one to one of her trusted urban informers, another to warn about potential trouble....

Mark then was given this candid comment by Kwok.

"Mhm. Specialized cocktails of drugs to improve suggestiveness, lower inhibitions and even make them see hallucinations, all for one goal. It works, but it can be unpleasant for all."

Mark hurriedly finished his plate to catch up with the rest of the group and left the dining room. He followed them out once Kwok was done with his phone call and ready to move on.

When they arrived in the basement, Mark could see that the robber had quickly recovered and was in an obstinate mood. Obviously in no mood to talk as well.

The Myth picked out a corner in the room to stand out of the way and observe the events. He watched as Daniela took a syringe and emptied its contents into the man's forearm. The following exchange between Daniela and the robber was intriguing as the man went rigid with fear of slugs.

Obviously there was no real slug but that didn't mean anything to the robber's state of mind. It was not an unheard of trick back with the Gauntlet. Hallucinogens were an effective method of garnering information from people, or at least causing fear.

More answers came to Mark though as the man leaked information about a bounty placed on Daniela's head. It only served to reinforce the idea that some of these gangs would have to be dealt with if the Gauntlet was to enforce its reach here.

"Mhm. Specialized cocktails of drugs to improve suggestiveness, lower inhibitions and even make them see hallucinations, all for one goal. It works, but it can be unpleasant for all."

Mark simply shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps. So what do you want to do with him?"

Mark hurriedly finished his plate to catch up with the rest of the group and left the dining room. He followed them out once Kwok was done with his phone call and ready to move on.

When they arrived in the basement, Mark could see that the robber had quickly recovered and was in an obstinate mood. Obviously in no mood to talk as well.

The Myth picked out a corner in the room to stand out of the way and observe the events. He watched as Daniela took a syringe and emptied its contents into the man's forearm. The following exchange between Daniela and the robber was intriguing as the man went rigid with fear of slugs.

Obviously there was no real slug but that didn't mean anything to the robber's state of mind. It was not an unheard of trick back with the Gauntlet. Hallucinogens were an effective method of garnering information from people, or at least causing fear.

More answers came to Mark though as the man leaked information about a bounty placed on Daniela's head. It only served to reinforce the idea that some of these gangs would have to be dealt with if the Gauntlet was to enforce its reach here.

"Mhm. Specialized cocktails of drugs to improve suggestiveness, lower inhibitions and even make them see hallucinations, all for one goal. It works, but it can be unpleasant for all."

Mark simply shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps. So what do you want to do with him?"

Daniela promptly answered his question by pulling out what looked like a well used pack of sticky notes and a clean handkerchief. She then scribbled something on it.

After that, she suddenly removed the man's bindings, and shoved him to the ground. She then gagged the man with the handkerchief and slapped the note on the man, hogtying him once more.

She then spoke to Kwok, saying, "Can you fetch Violeta and get me a ride home?"

Kwok nodded. He understood the point of Daniela's question; it was obvious Danny didn't want to be seen in enemy territory until she wanted to be seen, and yet deliver the message that she wasn't to be messed with. Violeta would be the perfect individual to do so; she was Daniela's best driver. He said simply, "Sure." He then coughed; at that, Daniela sighed with contempt and reached into her pocket, pulling out a wad of cash. Counting out several hundred dollars to the Triad lord, he nodded and said, "Thanks for paying for cleaning and tram fees."

The driver summoned, Violeta promptly disappeared with the man, who was dragged out ingloriously by his collar. Meanwhile, another woman in a Cheongsam came out, who was told to drive them. She spoke softly in English, "Follow me, please." Upon following her instructions, she led them to what looked like a sleek, big auto. As she got inside the driver's seat, Daniela got into the back. The rear inside was very luxurious, and filled with all sorts of amenities.....

Watching as Daniela hurried to accomplish her business here in the basement, Mark had the suspicion that Daniela was going to allow this man to live. He listened as she instructed all that she required.

"So we are going to pay them a visit..."

Mark followed them out into the car. He took a cushy seat along with the rest and noticed all the car's niceties.

"You're going to let him live, are you not?"

Watching as Daniela hurried to accomplish her business here in the basement, Mark had the suspicion that Daniela was going to allow this man to live. He listened as she instructed all that she required.

"So we are going to pay them a visit..."

Mark followed them out into the car. He took a cushy seat along with the rest and noticed all the car's niceties.

"You're going to let him live, are you not?"

As she motioned for Kwok's driver to take her back to the restaurant, Daniela said, lighting up another cigarette, "Yeah. I am. Enough to get the point across that those assholes I told you about need to stop doing this shit. Now." She then rolled down the window and threw out the smoke, then pulled out her cell and began chatting in Spanish.

"Yo!? This is Danny. Yeah, we may have a problem. What? Yeah, the bastards put a bounty on me. I think it's time we made them stop trying to kill me and just do it already. Well, you know what I Goddamn mean! I've had a helluva day.....look, is anything happening at the restaurant? Nothing? Good. Violeta's gonna send my regards. Bye."

Daniela hung up and sighed, leaning back. She then said, with a sense of frustration, "Some people, Mark....some people." She then leaned forward and looked at the Gauntlet assasin, and asked, lighting up another cigarette, "I have a good feeling I'm gonna need to get some heavy work done tonight. Wanna come with? Your friends are certainly invited."

Cryptic? Yes, probably, since Mark's people didn't use the slang "heavy work" to mean an assault--not just a hit, but a full on gangland assault. But the way Daniela's look was, what with the cocktail of frustration, unwillingness to put up with any more games from the opposition and her seemingly eager delivery of the question made her intent clear. That, and a welcoming smile sealed the deal.

All the while, the Cheongsam Lady didn't notice a thing. Not openly.

-------------

As this occurred, Violeta was screaming into the side of Compton owned by the 14th Street Ballas. Daytime in this part of Compton didn't seem that different than the night Mark had to witness, though it was somewhat saner. Nobody noticed who she was, or what was in her backseat.

The woman proceeded to drive up to the front of one Jayhawk Club, a seedy looking bar that had seen better days. She kicked down the door, giving the patrons inside enjoying their drinks a rude awakening. Greeted by guns, Violeta promptly threw the hogtied man onto the floor, and said, "That's for Mr. Big." She then backed out, not desiring to turn around for fear of what would occur from the disorderly patrons.

Mr. Big came out, and saw the hogtied suspect. And the note. He picked up the note and read it.

"Mr. Big--

You seem to love wasting money on thinking up ways to kill me. Try to be more thrifty with your people's lives and pocketbooks. As it is, you might find the penalties for overdrafting are quite harsh. ;)"

Mr. Big crumpled up the note, and threw it at a patron, screaming at one of his lieutenants in the bar, "Why isn't she dead yet!?!?" The Robber's gag was taken off, and then Big asked him, "Where the hell did she go?"

To that, the Robber said, "She said she was going home with a ride." Big then pulled the Lieutenant he screamed at to his side, and said simply, "Jonesy. Remember when I asked for those soldiers and Fiorelli?" The man nodded. Big then finished with, "Well, get them together. We're going in. Tonight."

He then whipped out his pistol and shot the Robber, to ensure he didn't talk.

Mark was somewhat disappointed that the man was going to be allowed to live. Most likely, he would end up dead later anyways but it is something that could be prevented now. Still there was some room for redemption in his eyes when he could tell that none of this was sitting well with Daniela.

"I have a good feeling I'm gonna need to get some heavy work done tonight. Wanna come with? Your friends are certainly invited."

And there it was, a simple plan that showed him that all was not lost here. There was no doubt in Mark's mind that his men were ready for something more than carrier pigeon detail. Since arriving on the planet, he had kept them on a short leash so as to prevent too much attention from being drawn to them. Now it was time to turn them loose.

Mark gave his first genuine smile of the evening. "What do you have in mind?"

Mark gave his first genuine smile of the evening. "What do you have in mind?"

Daniela's reply to that was to keep smiling and deliver a simple phrase. Mark would find it worthy of an old-time barbarian conqueror, or at the very least Earth's own such figures if he cared to look them up. With a puff of a newly lit cigarette, she spoke:

"I told the so-called Mr. Big--honestly, a stupid name if I ever heard of one--that he's going to suffer a penalty now that he's proven he's going to keep doing this to me. I'm going to refer back to a famous soldier from the past here on Earth as to how we will exact this penalty from all of his fronts, all his drug deals, and all his myriad operations and then ultimately his own men...."

She then finished by quoting no less than Colin Powell.

"...'Our strategy in going after this army is very simple. First we are going to cut it off, and then we are going to kill it.'"

She then puffed the cigarette again.

"To clarify: Total. Fucking. Annihilation. We strike tonight, we keep up the pressure, we ensure his Mafia and Al-Juhziz patrons don't get to help him out, and we make every one of his miserable shits either leave town or suffer the same penalty. We split the rewards three ways; one share for me, one share for your men, and one share for Kwok to keep him on our side. I trust you have input, you're free to submit it. Because I intend this to be the night where I show Los Angeles that I'm not all sugar and spice."

It was a lot to organize before evening came, he had to get his men ready and at the proper location along with all the details of their assignment. Still, Mark was not one to back away from a challenge and it was a challenge he believed that these members of the Gauntlet could carry it out.

If there was going to escalate any further, the assassin was wondering if he might be needing to make a call back home for more members to hold onto this gold mine of a market place. That was time for pondering later when this mess was dealt with.


"You'll have to drop me off so that I may gather my associates and properly prepare for the assault. You're men and women are welcome to come by as well to go over the finer details together. We only need to know where to strike, when, and how many you want left alive."

"You'll have to drop me off so that I may gather my associates and properly prepare for the assault. You're men and women are welcome to come by as well to go over the finer details together. We only need to know where to strike, when, and how many you want left alive."

"Same." Daniela promptly motioned for Cheongsam to drive to the Checks'n'Cashing Bank, where Mark worked. After giving Cheongsam the address, she promptly plugged it in into a GPS unit and drove to the location. By now, the tensions were high. It was fairly obvious as the Triad driver went through town that things were getting ugly. The parts of Compton held by "Big" were strangely empty. In the Catgirl side of town, it looked like business as usual, though it made Daniela nervous for some strange reason.

When they stopped at Mark's, Daniela let him out, saying, "I'll come by later with some friends of mine. We'll discuss strategy. In the meantime, good luck. It doesn't look good out."

-------------------------

When Daniela came back, she found Violeta reading the newspaper in the back room. Hanging up her leather jacket with a smile, she asked, "How'd the drop go, nee-chan?"

Inattentively she replied, "Good. I threw the bastard in, and then I left. I think Big got the point." Violeta looked up and said that with a pessimistic sigh, "Something tells me though, this ain't over, boss. You know Big, I know Big, he ain't gonna let this go. He's easy to anger."

Daniela laughed dismissively at the mention of Big's tendency to "crusade." She then said, "Yeah. But I think it was Sun Tzu--that Chinese kid--who said that one must never fight a war based on momentary anger. Big don't know that, cause he's got a sugar daddy. The Mafia. Spoils him rotten. Well, he'll regret that." She then took out the weapon from her holster, unloaded the magazine and then pulled the slide back, putting it into the lockbox. She then pulled out a side-by-side coach gun from a nearby safe, broke it open and inspected it. "Can you call Consuela, Maria, Jessica and Tamara? Tell them to bring their seconds, as well as any intel they can scrounge up on what's happening with Big, his gang, and the Aztlans too. We're going to meet our new friend Mark to plan a retaliation. And if possible, see if we can scrounge up our liasion in Chinatown to come in with what the Triads want."

Violeta's eyebrow rose.


"Retaliation? You mean like a war right?"

Viewing down the barrels of the coach gun, Daniela said, surprised at Violeta's question: "What? You afraid?"

Violeta then shrugged. She merely said, "Well, no. I'm just wondering what sort of war is it this time? A tiny turf war, something big or what? You don't usually handle the scattergun unless you mean business."

Locking the barrels closed, and turning her head to face Violeta, Daniela shook her head. Wagging her finger, she put the shotgun down and then said, passionately, "No, this is something big, Vi. Big. I'm talking Exterminatus."

Taking it all in stride, Violeta was surprised now to hear that word, with its connotations of mass atomic and viral cleansing of entire planets, attached to the operation. Raising her eyebrow, she simply said, stunned, "Whaddya mean, exterminatus?"

Daniela put her hands to her hips and said, rather casually but insistent, "You know what I mean. Burn, Purge, repeat. That sorta thing. Like when Al Capone in the Untouchables said 'I want him dead! I want his family dead! I want his house burned to the ground!' Something like that."

Violeta nodded and simply said, "Oh." She let the newspaper drop slightly as she said, as if to make sure she understood what was being told to her, "Damn, girl. Nobody's ever proposed that in a while around here. He pissed you off that much, huh?"

Daniela put the shotgun back as she simply said, "Yeah."

Violeta sighed and folded up the newspaper, reaching for the phone, "Well, I suppose it had to happen sometime. What time's the meet?"

The calls made, the girls later that night stopped by Mark's place--Daniela used her special paper--thus far concealed from all others, including Violeta--to give him fair warning.

Mark bid Daniela a good evening when she dropped her off back in front of the Gauntlet created establishment. There was much to do and many to call before the meeting. He just hoped that they had not strayed too far.

The assassin's calls were heard and heeded by the members he had brought with him as they gathered back in the bank within an hour. It was a promising turnout as all had arrived promptly and took their seats around the table. Eight members, including Mark, sat with glasses of wine before them and a decent enough meal provided by a few of the secretaries that believed they were feeding some business men coming to discuss expanding the bank.

"Well gentlemen, I hope you eat well for tonight is the night that these people realize they are not alone in their existence on this planet. We strike at our first source of opposition and we go to eliminate them."

The proposal brought a round of cheers from the members as anything resembling destruction or annihilation pleased them. Mark hadn't picked most of them for their stealth and tactful manners. Most of the men gathered here were muscle usually used to press down on other gangs or authorities. Mark himself typically tended to the assassinations and such though there were a few here that were adept at gathering information.

Mark passed paper out to the members detailing the members that they were going to hit and dispose of. "I've had a number of you gathering information on other rival organizations these pass few days. Hopefully you have not disappointed me."

One cloaked figure reached out a bandage wrapped hand and took up a page to see who the target was. A darkly hidden smile spread over his face. "Ah, this one. Small time crime lord by our standards but he does have some support from other organizations. Not a problem individually but if united, they could overwhelm us. We do not have enough members here for something like that and open warfare has never been our way."

Mark nodded just before taking a sip of the wine in his glass. "Indeed. I have assurances that they will not be a problem."

One of the members, a dwarf by the looks of him, slapped the table and narrowed a bushy eyebrow his way. "How are we te know dat?"

"I have my sources. No need to doubt that."

"Bah, likely you've been pullin' on someone's tail tryin' to make 'em purr fer ya."

A few others laughed at the lewd response though Mark took little mirth in it. He simply shot the upstart dwarf a glare to silence him. Most would have found a quick end to their life for such remarks but dwarven customs were understandable to most Myths. That and the dwarf was going to be needed tonight. No need to dispatch him so hastily.

"Aye, but that tail is proving a profitable one. Not the kind you are used to paying for. This one pays back."

The dwarf sat silent for a moment then burst out into laughter as he pounded the table agreeing with the come back. Besides, some things were rarely more important to a dwarf than money.

A flash of light passed through Mark's mind's eye and it didn't take him long to realize that there was a message written down for him. He didn't need to read it to know that Daniela was calling and most likely arrived. Mark simply excused himself while the others continued their talks and headed for the front door.

The security systems had been turned off for all this along with the cameras so nothing would be in concrete. The blanks in the video tapes would be easily dealt with by looped footage of the empty bank. Mark met Daniela at the double glass doors with a smile as he unlocked them.

"Good evening ladies."

Mark himself looked different as he was not dressed in his usual business attire. Now he support a more form fitting dark fabric that hugged his lean muscular frame which was accompanied by a hood that was pulled back for now. Leather straps crossed his chest and legs as they held a series of daggers and the same odd energy crossbow that he had carried all day.

"Come in and join us. There is some wine and food in case you are hungry."

The security systems had been turned off for all this along with the cameras so nothing would be in concrete. The blanks in the video tapes would be easily dealt with by looped footage of the empty bank. Mark met Daniela at the double glass doors with a smile as he unlocked them.

"Good evening ladies."

Mark himself looked different as he was not dressed in his usual business attire. Now he support a more form fitting dark fabric that hugged his lean muscular frame which was accompanied by a hood that was pulled back for now. Leather straps crossed his chest and legs as they held a series of daggers and the same odd energy crossbow that he had carried all day.

"Come in and join us. There is some wine and food in case you are hungry."

The Ley Jacinta assembly strolled through. In contrast to Mark's attire, the women were dressed in the usual catgirl setup. Leather jackets, jeans, t-shirts of all sorts, and sunglasses at night with bodyguards and seconds present. They naturally had differing armaments, carring a minimal amount since they were going to a business meet. They sauntered into the meeting room and picked up room and some refreshments. They took plenty of food, but preferred to focus on the job.

Daniela nodded and said, "Gentlemen" before her group took their seats. She then sipped her wine and said, "Two things. First of all, this is some excellent wine. Secondly, I would like to get to business, if I may."

She then coughed and said, "Particularly, I would like to discuss how tonight, we're going to attempt no less an effort than to wipe the uncultured, barbaric thug known as Mr. Big--an old, degraded, dissolute individual if I've ever seen one--and the rest of his cohorts in the 14th Street Ballas and Aztlan Rangers from this, the city of Compton."

She then leaned forward and said, "Now, I hope you're all aware that Big and his thugs have two powerful allies. One is the Italian Mafia, the other the Al-Juhziz Organization. If allowed to make contact with Big, our efforts could stall with dangerous results." She then smiled and said, "Naturally, I am sure we've all planned to prevent a link up of Big and his allies from happening. After all, Mark and I are in this together, and if necessary I can bring in the resources of the Red Arrow Triad." She then motioned to one of the catgirls, and said, "Right?"

The catgirl then said, "Yeah. Kwok and Daniela, they're like this," emphasizing their closeness with a cross of the fingers. "If you want, I can put him on speakerphone, to get him involved."

Daniela then held her hand up and said with a smile, "I don't think that will be necessary." Turning to Mark, she said, "Right?"

A number of lewd whistles greeted the catgirls as they entered the conference room. Some even offered a lap instead of a seat to sit in but were soon quickly silenced by a sweeping glare from Mark that put a stop to the ruckus. Most of the members cleared their throats nervously as they realized that their leader here was not in a forgiving mood. Somehow, these mixed creatures managed to find acceptance with him and were protected from the usual barbarous tendencies that followed these men.

She then leaned forward and said, "Now, I hope you're all aware that Big and his thugs have two powerful allies. One is the Italian Mafia, the other the Al-Juhziz Organization. If allowed to make contact with Big, our efforts could stall with dangerous results." She then smiled and said, "Naturally, I am sure we've all planned to prevent a link up of Big and his allies from happening. After all, Mark and I are in this together, and if necessary I can bring in the resources of the Red Arrow Triad." She then motioned to one of the catgirls, and said, "Right?"

The catgirl then said, "Yeah. Kwok and Daniela, they're like this," emphasizing their closeness with a cross of the fingers. "If you want, I can put him on speakerphone, to get him involved."

Daniela then held her hand up and said with a smile, "I don't think that will be necessary." Turning to Mark, she said, "Right?"

Mark nodded his agreement. "A small time crook like this should not be any problem for us. I have devised two plans on executing their demise though it depends on your preference. There is the flashy style with lots of explosions or the silent type which only requires a small crew. Either way, we'll need a detailed layout of their current location."

The assassin looked to Daniela with a small smile. "What's your preference, m'Lady?"

Mark nodded his agreement. "A small time crook like this should not be any problem for us. I have devised two plans on executing their demise though it depends on your preference. There is the flashy style with lots of explosions or the silent type which only requires a small crew. Either way, we'll need a detailed layout of their current location."

The assassin looked to Daniela with a small smile. "What's your preference, m'Lady?"

Daniela motioned for Kwok to be put on Speakerphone, and it was done rather quickly. Several rings later, Kwok's voice spoke and said, "Hello?"

Daniela smiled and said, "Ah, Mr. Kwok! I'm here with Mark and some of his friends...we're discussing Mr. Big and how to take him down for good."

A pause came, and Kwok replied with, "I see it's showdown time. Well, I hop--"

Daniela then cut him off with a simple, "Yes, we've accounted for the reply of his benefactors."

Kwok's reply to that was a simple, "Good. Then, I'd like to remind all present that the Red Arrow Triad--in league with Daniela's group--supports your endeavor. We will be happy to keep the major gangs occupied, should they decide to get too close to your mission objectives."

To that, Daniela smiled and said to the phone, "Good, thanks. But one question. Would you prefer silent or loud?"

Another pause.

"Well, considering what you plan to do, silent. If its too loud, LAPD will notice real fast something's not right."

Daniela nodded and turned to Mark. "Silent it is. As for layouts..." To that, Daniela snapped her fingers, and one of her associates brought forth crude but servicable sketches and blueprints of Big's complex and the Aztlan complex too. The catgirl who got them explained, "I got these from a friend at City Hall. Real nice work."

Passing them out, that same catgirl explained.

"These are maps of the two main bases of the enemy. Big is the more dominant, so he might host command at his place. Do not discount the Aztlans, though. Anywho, we take these bases down, we do serious damage to them, in addition to whatever damage we do to their people and stores. As for location in general..."

She then presented a map of LA County and marked off the enemy territories. "There we are." Pointing to some splotches, she said, "These are their territories. We surround those or deny access, we're good."

Mark studied the maps for a moment, then pulled out something that might be a little more telling of his origins. Clenched in his fist was a small black orb that was often commonly seen in Mythrandir. Holding the object out over the map, a scanning light passed over the map as the little gadget took the layouts into its memory then linked it up with the orb network in the room.

"Very well then, this will help guide us once we are inside. Dralth, what do you foresee of this plan?"

One of the cloaked figures stood up on shaky legs. A bandaged hand came from the voluminous folds of his cloak to trace around the plans of the bases. His voice was harsh and hissed as he spoke. "With us few eight here, we cannot possibly take on both bases and keep the enemy territories at bay. It will have to be one base and maybe one territory that is blocked off by our hands. We will need the rest of our companions to accomplish the rest."

Mark nodded his agreement. "Silent will not be a problem and we shall be more affective with our smaller numbers. Only one thing left remains."

The assassin looked to Daniela with a small smile. "Which location would you like to take?"

Mark studied the maps for a moment, then pulled out something that might be a little more telling of his origins. Clenched in his fist was a small black orb that was often commonly seen in Mythrandir. Holding the object out over the map, a scanning light passed over the map as the little gadget took the layouts into its memory then linked it up with the orb network in the room.

"Very well then, this will help guide us once we are inside. Dralth, what do you foresee of this plan?"

One of the cloaked figures stood up on shaky legs. A bandaged hand came from the voluminous folds of his cloak to trace around the plans of the bases. His voice was harsh and hissed as he spoke. "With us few eight here, we cannot possibly take on both bases and keep the enemy territories at bay. It will have to be one base and maybe one territory that is blocked off by our hands. We will need the rest of our companions to accomplish the rest."

Mark nodded his agreement. "Silent will not be a problem and we shall be more affective with our smaller numbers. Only one thing left remains."

The assassin looked to Daniela with a small smile. "Which location would you like to take?"

Daniela leaned back, sipped some wine, and then replied, "I'll have to consult my associates." She then motioned for the girls to lean in. Daniela was faced with a choice--to get the satisfaction of blowing up Big or letting someone who would do it quickly and cleanly do the job. The former would be much more satisfying. SHe smiled at the thought of blowing away the eternal thorn in her side.

Then, it hit her. Big's fortress was still going to be heavily fortified. And perhaps, in her haste to settle the matter, Daniela might get a lot of good people killed--or worse, invoke the LAPD. Logically, the Gauntlet's commandos--for a lack of a better word--would be the best choice for a kill. Get in, blow down the enemy, and seize the day before anybody could cry for help.

The discussion occurred briefly, and consisted simply of Daniela proposing her ideas, and the members accepting or rejecting them, most favoring the use of the Gauntlet. She then nodded, the whole business having been conducted in hushed Spanish.

The catgirl then turned to Mark and said, "I'd personally like to gut that motherfucker Big myself. But, considering he knows me, and I know him, it will be hard to do so. He don't know you. You can deal with Big, I'll zero in on the Aztlans. Besides, I need to settle something with their boss. He made a pass at me once." The last part seemed added almost as self-justification, but it was clear otherwise she was all for letting the Gauntlet kill Mr. Big, the way she spoke with clarity and logical enough reasoning about how Big "knew" her ways.

As Daniela and Mark were planning to take out the enemy, the enemy was making their own plans. Inside Big's club, the targeted gang lord himself was playing with a pen, still stewing over that day's challenge. He had long since disposed of the corpse of the unfortunate beggar, but the note remained in front of him as a taunt. He kept it as both reminder of his mission, and as a reminder of another sort--much like a Persian king had a servant whisper into his ear, "Remember the Athenians," Big kept the note to remind him that Daniela was still out there and she needed to die.

A knock on the door, and Big said, "Come in."

It was then that three men arrived. One a tall Italian-American man in a suit and tie, and another an Arabic-American man with glasses and a suit, and yet another man, one of the Mexicans that Daniela had shooed from the park. All sat at Big's command, and the Italian said, "Okay, Big. If that is your real name....let's get to business. New York wants to know why the hell they're going to have to commit resources to kill some furry and her houseboy."

The Arab then said, "Yes. My benefactors also wish to know the reason why we have been asked for assistance. I was under the impression the Al-Juhziz Organization's network of under-the-table transporters and multifaceted under-the-table operations provided enough aid."

The Italian sneered at the Al-Juhziz man's use of such bureaucratic language, but the Arab shot back a nasty look, presumably equally irritated at his blatant racism. Big then said, holding his hand up, "Gentlemen, please. The threat is greater than both of you estimate. This Daniela is no 'furry,' as Mr. Monaro declares. And the Triad man he refers to, Kwok, is no mere laundryman. They're both tough powers. Which is why they must be killed."

Big then passed the note to them. "As you can see, the note here signifies they're a threat. They intend to challenge me. I intend to wipe her with the aid of the Aztlans from the face of the city of Compton, and hold sway over South Central Los Angeles. New York and the Al-Juhziz from Pasadena have been summoned because of Mr. Kwok. I would like their assistance in making sure Chinatown remains isolated from the conflict."

The Aztlan Representative said, "A nice plan." He remained silent, as members of his Gang tended to do in Big's presence. Though the Aztlans fueded and collaborated alternately with the Ballas, it was clear who held the upper hand.

"It is," the Al-Juhziz Agent said. "However, there is no guarantee my benefactors or New York will intervene or cooperate."

Monaro lept in with a stern, "Indeed. What we need is some assurance that it's gonna be worth something to us. Access to the docks. Drugs. Money. Women--catgirls especially. And an assurance that you'll cooperate with anything you'll need from us. We don't work for free. Who the fuck you think we are, some kind of charity?"

Big sat back and tapped the table, saying, "I see." He then leaned forward and said, "You gents get a cut of my trades from Compton from my boys and the Aztlans. You gents also get to deal with Chinatown exclusively when you move in--I won't mess with it. And, I'll even provide the other amenities you mentioned, split fifty-fifty with me."

The Aztlan representative lept up and said, "Woah Woah! What the fuck!?" Big then whipped out a pistol and said, "Sit down." The Mexican replied, "Fuck no. Not until I get some say in this divvying up of yours. You're forgetting my boys are in an alliance with you right now, and we gots equal say in all this profitsharing. We make money, we oughta be able to have some for ourselves too!"

Big then said, "Fine. Name your terms. The Aztlans are our allies, and we are supposed to consult one another."

The Aztlan representative said, pointing to the foreign representatives in the room, "Okay. The mafia and the Al-Juhziz--they get cuts? We get cuts too. A larger share of drugs and fake c-bills. We also get to dictate how much to tribute to the elephants in the room here. We're not your bitches."

Monaro then gritted his teeth; he promptly replied with, "Be glad we're among mixed company."

Big then said, "Agreed. The Aztlans will have a say in the bargaining process. We will also up their share."

The Aztlan representative said, "Good. Now, let's discuss our plans..."

Thus, they discussed their plans, which mirrored Daniela's in nature--given the nature of Dornalian gang war, this wasn't surprising. However, it was less subtle, with the planned use of "torch jobs" and shootings to distract the police.

Of course, they didn't know their opposition had an ace up their sleeve....the Gauntlet.

The assassin and his group consented to Daniela pausing for a brief moment to speak with the rest of the group. When she returned, Mark smiled ever so slightly as he heard that Daniela wanted the Gauntlet to take out the throat of these gangsters. Normally, Mark or any operative in the Gauntlet would scoff at the notion of doing another criminal's work. This was different though. A statement was needed to be made here that someone new was in town and they didn't follow the normal rules of Dornalian gang warfare.

"Very well." Mark pulled out the black orb that he had just scanned over the plan's of the boss's dive. Sending the device flying, a holographic representation of the building soon spread out over the table.

He scratched his chin for a moment as he studied its layout. "A fairly simple building design so covering all entrances and exits should not be a problem. One floor with a main open floor and a room in the back most likely where this Big stays during business hours. We'll need someone on the inside. Dralth, that's where you come in."

The bandage wrapped man nodded his acceptance. "At your command, of course. I'll try to get into to see Mr. Big then give the usual signal."

"The typical momentary blindness will suffice so we can get in and clear the room quickly. Bunkil, you're our door man."

The only dwarf in the room, belched in acknowledgment at his typical job. "Ack, gettin' me acquainted wit da place wit me mace an' axe. Ain't door dat can wit'stand dat."

Mark nodded along with Bunkil's remarks simply to humor the dwarf. "Good. The rest of you are already in the tavern at least an hour before Dralth arrives. Obviously I don't have to say that no two people arrive at the same time. If you haven't yet found clothing that matches this area, you need to find some before we move. The rest depends on your study of the local dialects and culture. I'll be on the roof monitoring all routes and then I'll move inside once the signal is given. All clear?"

All of the gathered members of the Gauntlet nodded their agreement. Mark turned to face Daniela for verification. "Does that suit your need, Daniela?"

The assassin and his group consented to Daniela pausing for a brief moment to speak with the rest of the group. When she returned, Mark smiled ever so slightly as he heard that Daniela wanted the Gauntlet to take out the throat of these gangsters. Normally, Mark or any operative in the Gauntlet would scoff at the notion of doing another criminal's work. This was different though. A statement was needed to be made here that someone new was in town and they didn't follow the normal rules of Dornalian gang warfare.

"Very well." Mark pulled out the black orb that he had just scanned over the plan's of the boss's dive. Sending the device flying, a holographic representation of the building soon spread out over the table.

He scratched his chin for a moment as he studied its layout. "A fairly simple building design so covering all entrances and exits should not be a problem. One floor with a main open floor and a room in the back most likely where this Big stays during business hours. We'll need someone on the inside. Dralth, that's where you come in."

The bandage wrapped man nodded his acceptance. "At your command, of course. I'll try to get into to see Mr. Big then give the usual signal."

"The typical momentary blindness will suffice so we can get in and clear the room quickly. Bunkil, you're our door man."

The only dwarf in the room, belched in acknowledgment at his typical job. "Ack, gettin' me acquainted wit da place wit me mace an' axe. Ain't door dat can wit'stand dat."

Mark nodded along with Bunkil's remarks simply to humor the dwarf. "Good. The rest of you are already in the tavern at least an hour before Dralth arrives. Obviously I don't have to say that no two people arrive at the same time. If you haven't yet found clothing that matches this area, you need to find some before we move. The rest depends on your study of the local dialects and culture. I'll be on the roof monitoring all routes and then I'll move inside once the signal is given. All clear?"

All of the gathered members of the Gauntlet nodded their agreement. Mark turned to face Daniela for verification. "Does that suit your need, Daniela?"

Daniela looked at her accomplices, and a mutual exchange of nods occured. The plan was good to them. It was subtle, reliable, and if executed properly, could prove devastating. Then, she said nonchalantly, "It's a good plan. I like it. My only concern's the kind of security Big will put up."

Violeta raised her hand and said, "Didn't see any when I came in earlier. That could change though, especially as the night grows older. I'd be careful."

Daniela nodded, and looked at her watch. She simply said, "It's about eight o'clock. Happy hour ended an hour ago, but you got folks coming in there off work who are still getting hammered. Good time to come in as any if you wanted to get started now, otherwise I'd do it ASAP. Besides, if we're planning our business, imagine what Big wants to do."

Kwok then squawked, "What about me and you, Daniela?"

Daniela then adressed her own people, "Well, that's simple. We--the Ley-- flank Aztlan HQ from the front and rear with our toughest gatas, see--that way, we keep them on their toes. Also, we need to hit and run hard at their businesses. Get your divisions, isolate their areas and then sweep in, hitting their businesses. Do it quick, do it silently, keep civilian casualties to a minimum. Offer them a chance to get out of town, and if they refuse, give them a good incentive too. And don't hesitate to eliminate Big and Aztlan street soldiers. The Red Arrow goes in and intercepts incoming Mafia and Al-Juhziz support. Do it however you like, Kwok."

The catgirls nodded, and Kwok gave assent.

"I see. Then we should get started soon if we are to follow our plan. Those of you filtering into the tavern need to drop off your metal and pick up energy crossbows. No cartridges though. We can't risk any detection so you'll just have to be sure of your shots."

Bunkil looked somewhat concerned at the statement. "Ah, me too?"

Mark smiled slightly. "Of course not. I can't have the door man armed with a simple club. You and I will supply the metal for the rest of the group."

"Booh yah!" The dwarf slammed the table excited, obviously getting what he wanted.

"Good. Everyone needs to move out then. Our window of execution has narrowed slightly so let's not tarry here any longer."

The assassin turned to Daniela. "We'll be counting on you. And, make sure you be careful out there."

"I see. Then we should get started soon if we are to follow our plan. Those of you filtering into the tavern need to drop off your metal and pick up energy crossbows. No cartridges though. We can't risk any detection so you'll just have to be sure of your shots."

Bunkil looked somewhat concerned at the statement. "Ah, me too?"

Mark smiled slightly. "Of course not. I can't have the door man armed with a simple club. You and I will supply the metal for the rest of the group."

"Booh yah!" The dwarf slammed the table excited, obviously getting what he wanted.

"Good. Everyone needs to move out then. Our window of execution has narrowed slightly so let's not tarry here any longer."

The assassin turned to Daniela. "We'll be counting on you. And, make sure you be careful out there."

Daniela and her staff got up, and nodded in assent to Mark and the crowd of fantasy creatures and folks. These Myth seemed alright. To Mark's statement, Daniela replied, "You too, man." The other catgirls nodded, and left. As they did so, one spoke to Mark.

"You should feel lucky. She never calls anybody 'man' unless she trusts them."

Then, that last gata left. And when they got back to their various safehouses and caches, they began arming themselves for a long night ahead.....

--------------------------------

....but so were Big's forces. They too were "tooling up," and also arming themselves. In true Dornalian gang warfare style, they treated this not as a gang war, but as a world war--for they knew Jacinta would do likewise, or so they surmised ignorantly, ignoring the fact that tonight their opponent would get creative. Shotguns, machine guns, lasguns, Meltaguns, everything was being distributed to all kinds of soldiers. Some long time Big Alliance members, some newbies hired off the street for some quick reinforcements.

Then, into the scene stepped a group of toughs in leather jackets, cheap suits, and all the accoutrements of a gangland soldier. Big looked up at the leader of them, and recognized him as Monaro.

"You're late."

"I know. Fucking traffic--you people dunno how to drive in LA." Monaro said with contempt.

At that, Big's men leveled guns, only to have Big stand them down. Clearly, the comment was a little more than offensive to the gang soldiers, who resented a snotty New Yorker commenting on their fair city.


"Let's not get nasty," Big said. "Save it for Jacinta." Big walked to Monaro and said, "Where's your soldiers? Where's the Al Juhziz?"

"Ready to tear those Triads some new assholes," Monaro said with pride. As Big nodded with agreement, Monaro asked, "What about your Aztlans? Where are they?"

Big said, "They're at their own clubhouse. We had some issues with when to start operations." Big refused to say anymore, and Monaro understood the situation. Oh well, something to be exploited once he won....

At that, a gang member ran up to Big and said, "Boss, we got a situation. It's the Aztlans. They're going nuts."

A shocked Mr. Big then dropped what he was doing and simply said, "What?"

"Apparently, our man down at their clubhouse barely managed to get out alive...but he did notice some of their soldiers moving out!"

Big then fumed; this was not how the plan was supposed to work. He then said, "Get me the head of the Aztlans. Now. I'll be in my office."

Monaro sighed. This was obviously not the plan.....and now it looked like he was going to be a babysitter. He hated when this happened and could only hope Big could keep his man in line.

------------------------

The Aztlan preparations echoed the others, but they were more busy than the rest of the Big Alliance was. Mark was right in his assessment that time was growing short, for the Aztlans had started prematurely, eager to get a bigger share. The membership heard about the deal made with the Mafia, the Al Juhziz and the Big Gang. They would have none of it. Thusly, they rushed out into the gentegata section of Compton and attempted an assault, which was repulsed. Informers for both sides reported sporadic, but quiet skirmishes were occuring already.

Thus, when Jacinta had picked a group of her trusted soldiers to commence the flanking, and when the others commenced their job, they were well aware of danger. Indeed, the Aztlans could still be attempting to intercept them. Thus, they moved quickly to try and do their job. While this effort would sap resources from the Big Bad of the moment, it would throw everything off to have the Aztlans to go rogue....

--------------------------

As this occurred, the Gauntlet team would find Big's bar just as Jacinta described. Minimal security, with drunks coming and going, and a honkytonk atmosphere that had seen better days. There were a few more bouncers and guards than usual, but it seemed otherwise just like regular business hours.

There were, however, whispers that something was going on. Rumors, mostly, of renewed gang war. The kind Jacinta and Mark were discussing. And, if anybody listened closely amongst the loud rock and rap, and ignore the smell of cheap booze and the boorish catcalls of carousing patrons at womenfolk, they could hear Big chewing out the Aztlan leadership over sudden and urgent miscalculations using plenty of choice expletives. Only faintly, since Big tried to soundproof his office. But one could hear he was here nonetheless.

---------------------------

Kwok's team, meanwhile, opted to go for an aggressive defense. In his own office, Michael Kwok spoke to an informant who had just arrived; one of his delivery workers, who was also on his payroll as a spy.

"So you're saying you've heard rumors....Mafia soldiers? Al-Juhziz?" Kwok asked.

"Yes, boss, from our usual underworld tipsters. They're amassing just as expected. Looks like they intend to perform standard Mafia tactics, like it was New Jersey. Torch jobs, hits, etc."

"Ah, yes." He smiled and said to the Deliveryman, "Well, let's give them a taste of how we handle business in LA," Kwok replied. He then motioned for the Cheongsam Lady to come forth, and then he said, "Miss Ng, please call the brothers. Tell them to prepare for an offensive manuever against--" He then thought and asked the delivery boy, "Tell me, where were the enemies gathering?"

"Contacts reported Al-Juhziz safehouses in Lynwood and Inglewood, among other gangs they control, along with Big's part of Compton were getting a lot of traffic. More than usual for outfits like those."

Kwok then smiled, and decided to act on his hunch. He then instructed Miss Ng, "Phone the Los Angeles Police Department's CRASH Anonymous Tip Hotline. Tell them that caches of drugs are in Inglewood, and that they must be stopped before they can be sold for a very high street value. Also, inform the brothers that we are to assault Al-Juhziz Safehouses in Lynwood. Prepare appropriate plans, consult reliable tipsters and prepare for minimal noise and attention."

Ng nodded, and left to do the work.

The members of the Gauntlet filed out soon after. It was a quite departure, one that had been performed many times back on Mythrandir as everyone knew that they were going to eliminate a rival organization. For some it was a return back to the thrill of fighting and asserting dominance, to others it was merely another job.

Ordinary dressed men left the bank at spaced out intervals for the tavern that was under Big's control. Most of them only carried the small energy crossbow that Mark had shown its usefulness a few hours earlier. Due to its size and design, the weapon was easily concealed in practically any clothing. Filtering into the bar, the Myths acted about as normal as any other patron. Many placed orders for drinks or food and even humored the drunks that went on into great slurred speeches about their problems or how there were problems with the government. In the end, it was all but ignored by them as they were focused on their job.

They took quick note of the bouncers and guards along with their positions and the establishment. When the signal was given, they were going to have to be dealt with quickly and efficiently.

The last of the members of the Gauntlet entered in. Dralth walked through the bar, slowly but confidently, until he found an empty table. The heavily bandaged man kept himself covered with a heavy cloak but his piercing gaze swept the room to encompass it all. He soon had the movements of the guards memorized and had a relative idea where Big was in the back. All was in place now with all members in their positions.

When a guard walked by his table, Dralth extended a bandage hand to the man's arm. "Excuse me son. Could you please tell Mr. Big that I have come to see him? I understand he is a very busy man but I will only take a second of his time. This is for his benefit since I might have some information that will interest him. Who knows, it could even prove profitable."

Dralth raised a heavy wooden cane with a golden fisted handle and tilted towards the door to the sound proof room. "Please, I am a man of business and do not wish to waste anymore time on this deal."

Just to seal the deal anymore, Dralth waved the guard closer in so he could whisper. "If he wants to know the next movements of his enemy, then he might want to see me before it's too late."

Flying through the night, Mark ran from rooftop to rooftop dressed completely in black. His figure blended into every shadow as he leaped over fences, scaled walls, and ran through alleyways. Silent as death, Mark found the tavern just about the same time Dralth had entered. It wasn't long before he shimmied up a drain spout in the back and made himself comfortable on the roof.

Down below, his lone figure made his way through the alleys with a little less grace. Bunkil kept his weapons close around his waist but needed a place to hide and be able to see Mark's signals at the same time. Looking around, the dwarf eventually found something that would suit his needs. A large trash bin stood next to the corner of the tavern. Leaping in, the dwarf made himself comfortable in the garbage.

Sniffing the air, Bunkil caught onto a familiar scent. There between his legs was a half eaten chicken leg. The dwarf scooped it up in his meaty hands and took a whiff of the meat. Surmising that it was still good, Bunkil took a great bite and quickly ate his chicken leg; bone and all. Pushing the garbage around, Bunkil made himself comfortable while watching the roof for Mark's signal.

When a guard walked by his table, Dralth extended a bandage hand to the man's arm. "Excuse me son. Could you please tell Mr. Big that I have come to see him? I understand he is a very busy man but I will only take a second of his time. This is for his benefit since I might have some information that will interest him. Who knows, it could even prove profitable."

Dralth raised a heavy wooden cane with a golden fisted handle and tilted towards the door to the sound proof room. "Please, I am a man of business and do not wish to waste anymore time on this deal."

Just to seal the deal anymore, Dralth waved the guard closer in so he could whisper. "If he wants to know the next movements of his enemy, then he might want to see me before it's too late."


The guard, otherwise imposing with his massive shotgun, grunted and resistedd Dralth's replies. Only when Dralth insisted he had info did the guard grab Dralth by the scruff of his neck and say, "Alright. But I'm coming in with you. No funny business." He then knocked.

Big could be heard faintly ranting over the phone to his counterpart, though more clearly now due to proximity. He was screaming, "What the fuck! I told you to....no, don--don't you do that shit to me! I will rip your head off and use it to make new assholes!" He then opened the door and shouted, "WHAT!?" at the poor guard.

"This man wants to see you. He says he knows things. I don't trust him," the guard said.

Big then sighed and said, "Then why the fuck--oh, nevermind." He then motioned for the two to come in, revealing the tiny office with scummy chairs and barebones settings. The guard shoved him into a chair, and cocked his shotgun, aiming it at Dralth's head. The ganglord proceeded to double his protection by picking up a large pistol from his desk, and leveling it at the Gauntlet member.

Calmly, but angrily, Big then delivered his message.

"Alright. You say you know something. Well, spill it--I'm really fuckin' busy, and I don't got time for bullshit. Well?"

Outside of Aztlan HQ, Daniela and her troops stopped short of the target, which was by now bristling with enemy infantry and cars running back and forth. Stopping first in an alley and then in an another street corner, the squads disembarked from the auto, and silently sneaked out to their objectives.

Daniela herself was armed with a folding stock AK47, and the others with her with shotguns and machine pistols of various kinds. In the meanwhile, the squad to assault from the front brought heavier firepower, befitting its role as a distraction. One woman had a meltagun, another a RPK, and all Cadian Lasguns. On Daniela's signal, her team, which had sneaked into the alley, began to climb over the fence seperating the Aztlan HQ. They then began to assemble behind the back entrance.

As this occurred.....the women from the front assaulted, as Daniela made a short hand motion to the other leader who was still visible from the other alley, before leaping over the fence herself.

"Go."

Then, the Aztlan guards who would have been on patrol in back rushed to the front before they could catch up with the infiltrators. In front, lasgun and machinegun shots began spraying outside, with the occasional whine and blast--and white flash--of a meltagun.

Daniela sighed. That would give so much noise....

---------------------------------------
Inglewood, CA, Earth SSR

In a dingy street in the young night, the sounds of people driving about, closing up shops and such could be heard. And amongst those sounds was one man with a cigarette and a Triumph Bonneville motorbike. Puffing on te cigarette, he was a man who looked like your usual Dornalian street tough. Leather jacket, white t-shirt and jeans. No gang colors meant he wouldn't get shot easily, especially as many smaller gangs that were as undisciplined as Big's operated under rules of engagement that ensured the wrong colors got even the innocent dead.

Then, a phone call rang on his PDA. A secure LAPD CRASH channel, he smiled and picked up the call.

"Yeah. It's Malone. I understand. I'll get Alpha Team, Bravo Team, and Charlie Team together." The Agent then hung up and called together his team leaders.

"This is Big Ben. We gotta job from Billy Fish over at Central. Get into character, flash Al-Juhziz colors, move in with full kit. Target is a suspicious looking warehouse, marked Forelli Home Supplies. Someone said it had a lot of activity. Alpha Team, meet up outside of it, we move in then. Initiate Bag and Tag protocol, if they resist, initiate Torch Job."

"Gotcha," said one of the voices, and the others acknowledged likewise. Malone then drove off on his motorbike to the aforementioned spot, where some of his other teammates assembled. Similarly dressed, all of them had weapons of their own. Cadian Lasguns, meltaguns, SMGs, and even an AK47. They then pulled out disguise kits, and immediately applied the temporary tattoos that made it look like agents of the Al-Juhziz Organization were paying a visit.

As they did so, one asked, "We gonna bust them or shoot?"

"Central merely gave us the tip. They didn't specify whether we had to do either," Malone said, with a smile. "Fortunately, I know to keep you lousy shits in line. Remember the command. We move in to make an arrest. If they don't surrender, we blow the place up. Simple."

"Like your style boss."

"Yeah. It's why I'm boss and you ain't, shitface," Malone said.

When the guard reached down for Dralth, he would have found the elderly man quite light and easy to toss about. Dralth made no effort to resist, doing so would jeopardize the entire plan, so he went on with the brute with little fuss. "Oh no. Of course not."

It appeared that everything was going according to plan and as an added bonus, this Mr. Big seemed to be in the midst of chaos. Either they caught a lucky break or the Gauntlet's new counterparts were causing confusion elsewhere. No matter in Dralth's mind, this posed a golden opportunity for the Gauntlet to strike while the others were distracted.

Dralth held up his hands as a pair of weapons were leveled at his head. "Of course. I am a man of business myself, but there is no need for the weapons. I have come in unarmed as a friendly gesture to simply talk."

-------

A few foot over their heads, Mark moved quietly upon the roof to check the surrounding area. Everything seemed to still be clear with a few patrons coming and going. Nothing out of the ordinary. Checking on the location on the inside, it appeared that everyone had taken up positions in the room to prevent any quick exits.

All that remained was Dralth. Mark threw a small iron ball on the roof. Slowly, as if an invisible force were upon it, the ball began to roll until it settled over Dralth's location on the inside. Coming from the man on the inside was a very faint and specific magnetic pulse that was keyed in to be received by the iron ball. Again it began to move as Dralth was taken into the inner room and then suddenly stopped.

Dralth was in. Mark moved to the edge of the roof and signaled down to Bunkil to be ready. Flashing a few hand signals, Mark informed the dwarf that Dralth was already in. Bunkil waved back with a chicken bone that Mark could only wonder where he got it.

------

With a slight break between the conversation, Dralth slowly lowered his hands and fixed his bandages fingers around his cloak. "Mr. Big, I wanted to inform you that you have an enemy that is moving against you. The Lay Jacinta if you have ever heard of them. I myself represent an organization that is a bit larger then both of yours.

The fact of the matter is, you stand on the brink of losing everything. You have been outwitted."

Dralth threw an armored gauntlet clothed in a crimson velvet glove. "I belong to an organization called the Velvet Gauntlet. If you pledge your support to us, then all you need to do is place your hand on the gauntlet and merge with us. If you refuse, then you shall all be destroyed and your organization will be nothing more than a page in the history tomes."

Picking up his cane, Dralth rested his bandaged hands on the golden fist at the top as he waited for a response.

Dralth threw an armored gauntlet clothed in a crimson velvet glove. "I belong to an organization called the Velvet Gauntlet. If you pledge your support to us, then all you need to do is place your hand on the gauntlet and merge with us. If you refuse, then you shall all be destroyed and your organization will be nothing more than a page in the history tomes."

Picking up his cane, Dralth rested his bandaged hands on the golden fist at the top as he waited for a response.

The guard and Big then stood still for a moment. Looking at one another, they did so for several minutes. The guard asked Big, "You know these guys?"

Big shook his head. "'Fraid not. Must be a new Jersey startup." He then leaned in and said, "As much as I appreciate the whole Renaissance Faire gesture, the fact is that we don't know anything about you. So you can understand when I say I'm a little skeptical to make this investment, even with the damn neckers about."

He then narrowed his eyes in irritation and said, "Especially when said group threatens me with destruction if I don't join. You gotta have a lotta guts to do that."

The guard leaned in his shotgun as Big said, "Now tell me. Since you decided to threaten me, what the fuck is going on here?"

Dralth looked up at Big through the darkness of his hood. A bandage faced stared back at the mob boss as he slowly smiled. Bandage hands clasped the top of his golden fisted cane as the stranger blew a sigh.

"I am afraid you are mistaken. If you chose to think that we are from your world then that is no affair of mine. What good would an intergalactic organization like ours be if everyone knew of us?

Ah but I digress. I am afraid my time here is through. It is unfortunate that you could not be more trusting when I came to you under a banner of peace. Such arrangements only come once."

The cloaked stranger remained seated but released his grip on his cane. Buried within the man's cane was a detonator device which correlated with the gauntlet resting on the table. Stuffed into the gauntlet was a chemical base that when ignited, flashed a brilliant and stunning light.

A small spark jumped within the gauntlet which brought about a muffled explosion that caused a light, as bright as the sun, to fill the room which would be more than enough to stun and temporarily blind anyone with their eyes open.

------

The slight vibration from the other room followed by the sudden light seeping through the cracks in the door, was all that the members of the Gauntlet on the main floor needed. Wooden crossbows that Mark had sported at the fast food restaurant were quickly drawn and extended to their full length. They had spent the better part of the evening positioning themselves near the guards so that when the time came they would be in position to subdue the guards in quick order.

If any of them doubted the power of the weapons that the Myths carried, they would soon find out as energy bolts tore through the tavern. Any guard not willing to surrender would find one leveled his way without hesitation on firing.

------

Mark was not caught unawares by the change in atmosphere in the tavern either. Knowing that the Dralth had done his duty, he hopped onto the edge of the roof and gave Bunkil the go ahead.

Leaping from his hiding spot in the dumpster, the burly dwarf charged around the corner and barreled into the front door. He didn't stop no matter what the fighting was like in the main hall. Bunkil kept his body shield charged at full and continued on with mace and axe in hand. His target was the door that contained Big and Dralth.

Dralth looked up at Big through the darkness of his hood. A bandage faced stared back at the mob boss as he slowly smiled. Bandage hands clasped the top of his golden fisted cane as the stranger blew a sigh.

"I am afraid you are mistaken. If you chose to think that we are from your world then that is no affair of mine. What good would an intergalactic organization like ours be if everyone knew of us?

Ah but I digress. I am afraid my time here is through. It is unfortunate that you could not be more trusting when I came to you under a banner of peace. Such arrangements only come once."

The cloaked stranger remained seated but released his grip on his cane. Buried within the man's cane was a detonator device which correlated with the gauntlet resting on the table. Stuffed into the gauntlet was a chemical base that when ignited, flashed a brilliant and stunning light.

A small spark jumped within the gauntlet which brought about a muffled explosion that caused a light, as bright as the sun, to fill the room which would be more than enough to stun and temporarily blind anyone with their eyes open.

"SHIT!" Big ducked, but by then the world had suddenly gone white as he became unable to act, dropping his pistol. His guard did likewise, dropping his weapon and ducking and covering for want of anything else to do. Indeed, he didn't know it, but the mayhem was just beginning, and he wasn't there to witness it all--he was hit by what the locals would recognize as a flashbang.


The slight vibration from the other room followed by the sudden light seeping through the cracks in the door, was all that the members of the Gauntlet on the main floor needed. Wooden crossbows that Mark had sported at the fast food restaurant were quickly drawn and extended to their full length. They had spent the better part of the evening positioning themselves near the guards so that when the time came they would be in position to subdue the guards in quick order.

If any of them doubted the power of the weapons that the Myths carried, they would soon find out as energy bolts tore through the tavern. Any guard not willing to surrender would find one leveled his way without hesitation on firing.

The initial shock soon gave way to panic as the burly guards and their hangers-on were hit with a sudden assault from all sides. Many were cut down before they could reach their holstered weapons, and patrons began fleeing in droves, knocking down tables and just trying to escape. A large crowd began to block the entrance, and it was only through the quick thinking of a bouncer that knocked the panicked patrons into order that prevented the situation from turning into a stampede. Someone had some decency around the place, albeit decency that manifested in the form of fists on innocent patrons.

One or two of the guards managed to get behind the bar, and began firing back. But it was really just a way to buy time until they could get their hands on reinforcements--which given the state of things, didn't seem likely. The rest either tried to shoot back, regroup with the two behind the bar or surrender--the former two probably not having much of a chance.



Mark was not caught unawares by the change in atmosphere in the tavern either. Knowing that the Dralth had done his duty, he hopped onto the edge of the roof and gave Bunkil the go ahead.

Leaping from his hiding spot in the dumpster, the burly dwarf charged around the corner and barreled into the front door. He didn't stop no matter what the fighting was like in the main hall. Bunkil kept his body shield charged at full and continued on with mace and axe in hand. His target was the door that contained Big and Dralth.


The door, though sturdy usually and bulletproofed with sand and such, was visibly shaken by Bunkil's assault, with a huge crack splitting down the middle and sand pouring out. One more hit and the door would go--and it wouldn't need to be a hard one either.

As other guards opened fire, a number of the Gauntlet members overturned tables and used them as cover to return fire. Energy bolts ripped out at those still willing to stand and at the pair that dove behind the bar. Guards willing to surrender were knocked down and dragged behind the Gauntlet.

During the chaos, Bunkil came charging into the room. The crowd around the door was hardly a problem for him as he barreled through. Straight ahead was his target which was promptly met by his hand axe. A great thud sounded as he made solid contact with the door.

It nearly crumbled on the first blow which he had not expected though was thrilled to death. Coming around in his next swing was his heavy spiked mace coated with oil of impact. It was a fancy chemical that Crucible had developed to help with breaching doors since it caused a small explosion when brought into contact with anything.

The explosion blew open the door and sent the wild dwarf charging in whooping and hollering as he looked for Big and his guard. A free man from the main floor also followed Bunkil inside to provide a little extra fire power in case the inhabitants were already recovering from the shock.

Up on the roof, Mark decided to make an entrance to clear the tavern. Deftly dropping from guard rails and gutters, the assassin made it to the front entrance. Dressed completely in the black silk, he looked wholly out of place at the scene but it made no difference now. Too many people were worried about not dying. The assassin moved up to the front of the door to see how his men were doing and if anyone else would be willing to try and stop him.

As other guards opened fire, a number of the Gauntlet members overturned tables and used them as cover to return fire. Energy bolts ripped out at those still willing to stand and at the pair that dove behind the bar. Guards willing to surrender were knocked down and dragged behind the Gauntlet.

During the chaos, Bunkil came charging into the room. The crowd around the door was hardly a problem for him as he barreled through. Straight ahead was his target which was promptly met by his hand axe. A great thud sounded as he made solid contact with the door.

It nearly crumbled on the first blow which he had not expected though was thrilled to death. Coming around in his next swing was his heavy spiked mace coated with oil of impact. It was a fancy chemical that Crucible had developed to help with breaching doors since it caused a small explosion when brought into contact with anything.

The explosion blew open the door and sent the wild dwarf charging in whooping and hollering as he looked for Big and his guard. A free man from the main floor also followed Bunkil inside to provide a little extra fire power in case the inhabitants were already recovering from the shock.

Up on the roof, Mark decided to make an entrance to clear the tavern. Deftly dropping from guard rails and gutters, the assassin made it to the front entrance. Dressed completely in the black silk, he looked wholly out of place at the scene but it made no difference now. Too many people were worried about not dying. The assassin moved up to the front of the door to see how his men were doing and if anyone else would be willing to try and stop him.

Big was indeed recovering, but woke to find several uninvited guests in his office. He sighed and muttered, "Great. A midget, a thug and an old man. Fucking bar joke, is what this is." He was really too caught up in making pithy Hollywood-style remarks to even resist, and his guard simply raised his hands in surrender, also having recovered to the same sight.

Outside, Mark would find that the inside was cut off from the outside by the streams of people fleeing the scene with panicked looks, sobs, and screams all about. It was obvious their sneak attack had done its work--Dornalian gang warfare definetly wasn't this shocking, even with its militaristic brutality. The novelty of it all really hit people.

As for the thugs inside, one of them motioned to his partner and yelled, "Call for backup. These fuckers aren't gonna get us!" As his partner reached for the phone, the fighting intensified with more casualties being taken. However, it would remain up to the Gauntlet to end this fight quickly--either reinforcements or the inevitable police intervention would come, some could hear sirens....

-------------

As for Daniela's crew, the woman with the meltagun decided to up the ante. Charging at the enemy, she sprayed one last shot into a window of the clubhouse, lighting it ablaze with thousands-degree temperatures that caused some ammo and chemicals to begin cooking off.

The enemy installation was now on fire, and explosions made for an ironic backdrop as the woman who did it was gunned down. The damage was done, however. The Aztlan guards were forced outside, and the Ley Jacinta ripped into the opposition with grim determination.

The head of the Aztlan Rangers was confronted with Daniela's grinning face, which promptly leveled her AK at his head and unloaded one shot, ending his involvement in the affair. She then sprayed into the mass of rivals and shouted, hearing sirens, "Let's go!"

They sped away, the job having been finished here, but with more destinations to hit. She recieved a call from one of her deputies, who reported an assault and some more underway. The blaze wasn't expected though, and it would probably give them away. Fortunately, she knew people in the LAPD who would cover her.

----------------

Speaking of the LAPD....

Officer Malone and his men entered the warehouse, flashing their tattoos to gain admittance and saying in Juziziyah, the coded language of the Organization, "We come for the fight ahead."

As they parked their bikes in the warehouse, several Juhziz bosses were seen distributing gear to their men, along with admonishments to protect the interests of the "Brotherhood" and hearty chants of "Chalo Bahadur!"--a phrase stolen from the Hindu, meaning, "Come, my brave one."

Malone snickered a little. He had heard this sort of talk before when he did his time in the army. It was only natural Juhziz fighters and most Dornalian gangs used militaristic methodologies and ways of organizing. The National Service system all Dornalians undertook for two years in some ways had a dark side to it, and that was it gave ordinary thugs the training needed to take their skills to an entirely new level as they were being trained to defend the Revolution. The result were gangsters who fought like soldiers, and Dornalian gang tactics reflected this, merely twisting that militaristic skillset for baser ends.

Fortunately, Malone and his fellow LAPD had also undergone the National Service. And it would show in this fight. For when he was confronted and given a weapon, he led the man on with promises of Brotherhood, and then flashed his badge and put his AK to the man's head, saying, "LAPD! FREEZE! DROP YOUR WEAPONS, HANDS IN THE AIR! OR THE ASSHOLE GETS IT!"

The gangsters around him leveled their weapons at the LAPD CRASH Agents, and before long the CRASH teams and the Al-Juhziz gangsters were all aiming at one another. The situation was tense, and for several seconds no one moved or made a sound. Malone said, "I ain't lying. Give it up, or I'll fucking kill this bitch where he stands!"

"And you'll die too!" the man said.

"Wanna try it? I took the Navy's MacGyverism classes. I can make cannons out of paper towel tubes if I wanted to right now and fucking introduce you all to the wonderful world of colostomy bags. Don't push me."

Tense again, the situation stilled. One radio from the Juhziz side asked what was going on in Juhziziyah. No reply was given, for one CRASH man pointed at the radio and shook his head no.

Then, Malone spoke again, more reasonably.

"So what'll it be? You take a chance and get shot by me and my boys? Or you all surrender, and agree to turn yourselves in and cooperate with Mother Dornalia. She's a kind jailer, and has provisions for good girls and boys who surrender willingly and agree to help her out. Besides, you get to have functioning mouths, ears, and legs. Don't get that with gunfire."

"I can live without a mouth. I can't live with yours," one Juhziz man shot back. He was silenced by the man held hostage, who asked, "Okay. So, we surrender. What happens then? Where's your evidence?"

"We have the evidence, we've been collecting it for a while. As for what happens, simple. We take you in, process you, hold you up at County, and go to trial. You make a plea bargain and go nolo contendere. You get a punishment still, but not the assraping that happens if we choose to start involuntary lead transplants right now, or what happens to the survivors. So what'll it be?"

The man held hostage thought about it, and the sound of meltaguns and plasma guns warming up from the LAPD side gave him an incentive. He said, "You fire those things, we all die."

"I'm crazy enough to do that."

A pause.

"Fine. You win." At that, the man held hostage raised his arms up, and ordered a surrender.

Mark smiled seeing the chaos filling the door. If it was difficult for him to enter, it would be just as troublesome for any local law enforcement to get in and break up the fight. The plan was executed as scripted so it was time to move to the back and make their exit. There was no real way out the back of the bar but that didn't mean one couldn't be created.

A knock on the back wall signaled to Bunkil that he was in position. The burly dwarf sighed and gripped his mace in a tight, meaty fist. With a great swing, the dwarf brought his mace to contact with the wall. Normally such swings would produce little damage, but the oil of impact sparked and blew a sizable hole in the wall revealing Mark standing on the other side.

"Thought ye never get here."

Mark waved them forward. "No time for banter. The local authorities are on their way. Take him to the sewers and meet us at the rendezvous point."

The dwarf saluted and poked Big in the back with his axe. "Git a move on."

Dralth eased up from his chair and looked at the guard that had surrendered. "What of him?"

Mark stroked his chin as if in deep thought while walking behind the man. A simple solution came to mind. Drawing a silver dagger from his belt loop, the assassin struck deep into the man's back; three lobes up. It was a trademark location where the pain was so great that it cut off the windpipe and prevented anyone from screaming.

"We have never taken prisoners. I see no reason to change our philosophy."

Looking out where the fighting was still tense, Mark gave a shout. "Soldiers! We are leaving! Finish this fight!"

The Gauntlet members on the inside knew what to do. While the others kept up firing on the bar to pen the men back there down, the third turned his energy crossbow on the guards that had surrendered and shot into the group to finish them off.

While that was tended to, another member unstrapped the energy pack and set it for critical detonation. Chucking the pack over the bar, the Gauntlet members filed into the back room and waited for the explosion while keeping up their shots so as to keep Big's guards in one spot.

Once the pack went off, they were out the back and running for the sewer systems.

The dwarf saluted and poked Big in the back with his axe. "Git a move on."

Dralth eased up from his chair and looked at the guard that had surrendered. "What of him?"

Mark stroked his chin as if in deep thought while walking behind the man. A simple solution came to mind. Drawing a silver dagger from his belt loop, the assassin struck deep into the man's back; three lobes up. It was a trademark location where the pain was so great that it cut off the windpipe and prevented anyone from screaming.

"We have never taken prisoners. I see no reason to change our philosophy."

Looking out where the fighting was still tense, Mark gave a shout. "Soldiers! We are leaving! Finish this fight!"

The Gauntlet members on the inside knew what to do. While the others kept up firing on the bar to pen the men back there down, the third turned his energy crossbow on the guards that had surrendered and shot into the group to finish them off.

While that was tended to, another member unstrapped the energy pack and set it for critical detonation. Chucking the pack over the bar, the Gauntlet members filed into the back room and waited for the explosion while keeping up their shots so as to keep Big's guards in one spot.

Once the pack went off, they were out the back and running for the sewer systems.

Big sighed, forced by the strange new men to follow his captors into the LA sewers. As he witnessed his guard killed, he got a sense he wasn't dealing with amateurs here. These were tough people, and he had good reason to stay silent. Whoever Daniela was working with, she had made a good choice.

As for the bar itself, the withdrawal of the enemy left a swathe of dead. The men behind the bar had been hit by that latest assault, and they were shocked by the slaughter of surrendered prisoners. That never happened in Dornalian gang war usually. Daniela was definetly meaning business if this was the case.

The sound of sirens drew closer, and the Big Gang members fled the scene before they could be treated to a talk with the LAPD. As LAPD officers calmed the scene down and began quesitoning people, two men entered the bar. What they saw was grim indeed, and one shook his head saying, "Fucking animals."

His partner, meanwhile, radioed simply, "This is Officer McGowan. We need backup."

----------------------

"Sir. Intelligence in Inglewood indicates the Al-Juhziz Organization forces there are indisposed thanks to LAPD CRASH."

Kwok nodded and said, "Excellent. What of our friends in Compton?"

The Adjutant replied: "Daniela has torched the Aztlan Headquarters, and there is no word from the Big HQ. It can be assumed they are cut off from their command."

"Any reports from Daniela herself?"

"Our liasion with her forces indicates she is executing Phase Two of her plan. They are moving in and performing assaults upon enemy forces. Option is given to leave or die. Most cases have seen the latter, it seems, though this information is liable to change at anytime."

"Excellent. I assume by now LAPD has begun to move on the suburb in force to try and bring order. Let's distract their bigger guns in CRASH. Find more Al-Juhziz/Mafia concentrations, and direct them to those areas. We cannot afford to have them tie us up. Also, have Triad forces engage in direct combat against the foe in areas across town. Draw resources off the people assaulting our allies."

"Aye, sir."

-------------------

Daniela smiled; her plan was going according to schedule. The problem was finishing it before LAPD ruined the party. As it was, her gang was dueling Big and the Aztlans for territory, and winning. She knew that from that fact, the decapitations must have been successful. "Figures," she thought. "Big and his bitch in the Aztlans were the only ones keeping those outfits together anyway."

So far, Knickerson Gardens and several areas had been secured. Now, it remained to complete the sweep. Like she had been taught in the Marine Corps, it was essential to cover all avenues, to remain moving, to keep momentum to prevent an offensive from stalling. And it was imperative not to fail now.

With all prisoners, save one, executed; the going was fairly easy for the retreating members of the Gauntlet as they flitted through the shadows and into the sewer systems. It was only a short excursion through the cramped tunnel network in order to put some distance between them and the seen of the battle. They would still have to stay within the darkness and alleyways since Big was most likely fairly well known, but they would avoid any watchful eyes looking for criminals fleeing the tavern.

Everything had gone according to plan. Perhaps one or two of the thugs managed to escape but it could prove more beneficial as a few scared guards could spread word of what happened to night. In time, the events would be exaggerated and distorted adding more mystery and shock to the new group in New Dornalia. The added bonus to it all was that no one knew who they were, except for Big. But he would not be alive long enough to share that secret.

Gagged and hands bound, he was pushed through the darkness by his captors. Mark took point with the deadly dwarf bringing up their rear and on watch. Waving a man forward, Mark called on one of his runners. "Have we word on Daniela's group?"

"No, sire."

The assassin stopped for a moment then looked up to the faint stars of the sky that were so different from the ones back home. "There is still time left. Fall back in with the others and have them double time it back to our rendezvous point."

"Yes sire."

The rest of the group hustled Big along while Mark took a side street. In the solitude of the shadows, the assassin pulled out the special parchment that he shared with Daniela. Grabbing the feathered quill from his pocket, Mark penned a message for his comrade.

Our business has been concluded. How fares your mission? Do you require any assistance?

With all prisoners, save one, executed; the going was fairly easy for the retreating members of the Gauntlet as they flitted through the shadows and into the sewer systems. It was only a short excursion through the cramped tunnel network in order to put some distance between them and the seen of the battle. They would still have to stay within the darkness and alleyways since Big was most likely fairly well known, but they would avoid any watchful eyes looking for criminals fleeing the tavern.

Everything had gone according to plan. Perhaps one or two of the thugs managed to escape but it could prove more beneficial as a few scared guards could spread word of what happened to night. In time, the events would be exaggerated and distorted adding more mystery and shock to the new group in New Dornalia. The added bonus to it all was that no one knew who they were, except for Big. But he would not be alive long enough to share that secret.

Gagged and hands bound, he was pushed through the darkness by his captors. Mark took point with the deadly dwarf bringing up their rear and on watch. Waving a man forward, Mark called on one of his runners. "Have we word on Daniela's group?"

"No, sire."

The assassin stopped for a moment then looked up to the faint stars of the sky that were so different from the ones back home. "There is still time left. Fall back in with the others and have them double time it back to our rendezvous point."

"Yes sire."

The rest of the group hustled Big along while Mark took a side street. In the solitude of the shadows, the assassin pulled out the special parchment that he shared with Daniela. Grabbing the feathered quill from his pocket, Mark penned a message for his comrade.

Our business has been concluded. How fares your mission? Do you require any assistance?

As Daniela finished another quick hit-and-run attack on a Big Gang storefront and her gang drove off, she felt something. Reaching into her pockets, she found herself smiling. It was Mark, the man from the bank. Quietly, as her gang was distracted looking for targets, she scribbled down the following hastily.

"We're okay for now. But as you may or may not be able to tell, the police are starting to come in. Fortunately, they're not as much in force as I expected--something tells me they're distracted elsewhere. Do keep an eye on them though. Our sweep is going well, we've done a huge chunk of damage to them already with our gang's hit squads. So far, most of the bigwigs have fled, and those who haven't are dead. Our mission is going well. Certainly, your efforts are helping out as whatever resistance was there before has begun to collapse if it hasn't already. Without their leader, it seems they're easily divided. "

Mark gave the message one last scan over to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Satisfied that everything was going according to plan, the assassin rolled the parchment back up and placed back into the folds of his pocket. Mark bolted from shadow to shadow as he began gaining ground on his companions. They were somewhat slowed by the fact that they were carrying a prisoner from their raids.

Darting ahead of the group, Mark lead them through some narrow alleyways and into familiar streets. By now they were not far from their safe haven as familiar street lights began coming into view.

All that was left was for the Gauntlet to get Big down stairs and began questioning on everything he knew about the underworld of New Dornalia. Then they could wash their hands of the whole mess and be done with it. Mark began compiling a list of questions mentally as they avoided the lights in the street and crept back to their establishment.

Mark gave the message one last scan over to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Satisfied that everything was going according to plan, the assassin rolled the parchment back up and placed back into the folds of his pocket. Mark bolted from shadow to shadow as he began gaining ground on his companions. They were somewhat slowed by the fact that they were carrying a prisoner from their raids.

Darting ahead of the group, Mark lead them through some narrow alleyways and into familiar streets. By now they were not far from their safe haven as familiar street lights began coming into view.

All that was left was for the Gauntlet to get Big down stairs and began questioning on everything he knew about the underworld of New Dornalia. Then they could wash their hands of the whole mess and be done with it. Mark began compiling a list of questions mentally as they avoided the lights in the street and crept back to their establishment.

As Big was being dragged along by his new captors from street to street, town to town, he was made uneasy. Around here, you captured leaders for ransom or for killing them later. Something told him that judging by the nature of these bastards, it was likely the latter. He shrugged and sighed, muttering as they entered Mark's establishment, "Do whatever you want to me. Don't expect you boys to play fair anyway."

---------

As that occurred, Daniela and her girls had pretty much cleaned up the Big Gang and their seconds in the Aztlan Rangers. It was a nasty fight, one that nearly brought in the LAPD's heavies and made Compton and South Central roar into the night. But it was worth it to Daniela. There was no more Mr. Big as far as she was concerned and no more danger here in Compton. That part of LA was her fiefdom now, and she would be free to, like Malbrouck in the old song (to invoke a little Faulkner) pillage as she pleased. But she was dead tired, and the police were getting antsy.

Already, some of her agents had called, saying cop cars had begun patrolling, investigating several cases of arson and murder and already taken in three of her troops. Evidently, they had an inkling that the usual violence of South Central wasn't so usual tonight. Inevitably, they'd figure out what was up. Thus, Daniela instructed her girls this simple command.

"Keep it down, and if you don't gotta do nothin' more tonight, get to bed. They're out."

-----------

As Daniela marshaled her girls home from a phone booth, she then got a call from Kwok.

"Mike, what's happenin'?"

Kwok simply replied, "Just doing my part. Get to a TV and look at the news. LAPD CRASH is awful busy tonight."

Daniela smiled proudly. Kwok had used the old "Snitch on the neighbors 'cause you're jealous trick" that was a part of any good Dornalian's playbook. She then frowned a little. What happened when CRASH ran out of enemies up North?

(Apologies for the long delay. My internet has been down for some time and it is only now coming back.)

The entire Gauntlet and their prize finally made it back to their holdings and ushered their prisoner downstairs. Once Big was in a hollowed cave beneath Checks'n'Cash, the iron door was closed and sealed shut. The crime boss was plopped into a stiff wooden chair then strapped down with course leather straps.

Darkness engulfed the room preventing anyone from seeing a breath in front of their face yet each member seemed to have the room memorized and knew exactly where to move. Eventually, a small spark peeled the pitch black air away from a small corner in the room. It was soon fed and grew to reveal a small lantern in Mark's hand. Mark moved silently to a wooden table that stood in front of Big which was illuminated by the lamp's arrival.

Setting the lantern in the middle of the table, Mark took a seat across from Big. He spoke no word as he pulled a piece of parchment paper and a quill. The writing was fairly indecipherable as the assassin scribbled some archaic symbols that were soon translated over to Daniela's identical scroll.

We have Big in our possession. If you would like to talk one last time, you are welcome speak with him. Otherwise, we shall dispose of this filth. You know where to find us.

Finished writing, Mark rolled the parchment up and returned it to his cloak. His hands returned to the table with another item. A rolled up side of leather.

"Mr. Big, I am pleased that you could join us. I would like to ask you a few questions though and depending on how you respond, this little meeting will go quickly with very little pain. If not, well then I will have to resort to some techniques I brought from home."

At the same time, Mark unraveled the leather cloth to reveal a row of sharp instruments barely visible in the dim light. Some were simple knives and scalpels, but further down; the instruments became more intricate and apparently painful.

"Now you said that we do not play fair. Well that would be correct. We were told that you were not a very intelligent man but from just that quick assessment, I can see that they underestimated you. My companions and I are not from your little world and therefore are not accustomed to your rules of gangs. Where we come from, those died out long ago.

So allow me to begin with my first questions, what is it that your group specialized in for the sale in 'less than savory markets'? Also, who are your contacts? You must have had someone move your merchandise or provide you with potential consumers."

At the same time, Mark unraveled the leather cloth to reveal a row of sharp instruments barely visible in the dim light. Some were simple knives and scalpels, but further down; the instruments became more intricate and apparently painful.

"Now you said that we do not play fair. Well that would be correct. We were told that you were not a very intelligent man but from just that quick assessment, I can see that they underestimated you. My companions and I are not from your little world and therefore are not accustomed to your rules of gangs. Where we come from, those died out long ago.

So allow me to begin with my first questions, what is it that your group specialized in for the sale in 'less than savory markets'? Also, who are your contacts? You must have had someone move your merchandise or provide you with potential consumers."

Big then looked at the men with a frown, then a look of surprise. He was almost laughing. All this mess, all this violence--so that a bunch of MMORPG knockoffs could get some info on his rackets!? The ganglord couldn't help it. He smiled, amused. Then, he leaned his head back and replied, "You shoulda paid one of those snitches that works the bars, or bribed a man in LAPD. Cause it shoulda been obvious by now you didn't need to go this far. I know you do the whole, 'we're different' sthick--but really. Come on."

He then grew serious and said simply, "Just how much is that pussy paying you? I'd like to know; you couldn't have done this much without her deciding you were worth keeping in her reverse harem."

It was obvious that Big was in no mood for discussion, civil or violent. In fact, one could say he thought this was a joke.

------------------

Daniela, meanwhile, got back to her restaurant, dropped off by Violeta. Violeta would ensure the car was "detoxed," as Daniela liked to refer to the procedure. Everything from re-sprays, to changing the license plates, to nanite alteration of the electronics and et cetera. Daniela then felt the paper wiggle, and saw Mark's message. Smiling, she sauntered over to his shop, and wrote on the parchment.

"I'm out front. Can you send a man to let me in?"

Mark smiled back at Big as the gang lord leaned back in his smugness though his smile was neither one of amusement or very pleasant. The assassin stood up from his seat and walked around the table slowly. When Mark reached the edge of the table facing Big, he eased himself down on the corner.

He reached out and grabbed a hold of Big's right hand and turned the palm upward. Mark ran his fingers over the man's hand and studied them intently. His eyes scanned every line, bump, and callous. "It looks as if you have been out of the game for a long time. Your hands have gotten soft."

Mark allowed several of Big's fingers to slip through his grip. "I may ask questions that I already know the answer to simply to test your willingness to cooperate. Judging your cooperation, I can make this a quick and painless process."

Big's middle finger stopped in between Mark's thumb and index fingers. "Sarcasm, asking your own questions, or not cooperating in any form is, oh, so unwise."

Mark quickly snapped his thumb and index fingers to dislocate Big's middle finger. He let Big's hand fall from his grasp and returned to his seat. "Each time you refuse to cooperate or I deem your answer unsuitable, the level of pain will increase. So we shall begin again until I receive answer the answer I want."

He felt a slight vibration coming from his cloak's pocket and didn't need to look and see that Daniela had arrived. There were plenty of his men there to report she was waiting outside. Mark nodded. "Allow her in."

He then turned back to the crime boss before him. "What is it you specialize in selling and who are your contacts?"

Mark smiled back at Big as the gang lord leaned back in his smugness though his smile was neither one of amusement or very pleasant. The assassin stood up from his seat and walked around the table slowly. When Mark reached the edge of the table facing Big, he eased himself down on the corner.

He reached out and grabbed a hold of Big's right hand and turned the palm upward. Mark ran his fingers over the man's hand and studied them intently. His eyes scanned every line, bump, and callous. "It looks as if you have been out of the game for a long time. Your hands have gotten soft."

Mark allowed several of Big's fingers to slip through his grip. "I may ask questions that I already know the answer to simply to test your willingness to cooperate. Judging your cooperation, I can make this a quick and painless process."

Big's middle finger stopped in between Mark's thumb and index fingers. "Sarcasm, asking your own questions, or not cooperating in any form is, oh, so unwise."

Mark quickly snapped his thumb and index fingers to dislocate Big's middle finger. He let Big's hand fall from his grasp and returned to his seat. "Each time you refuse to cooperate or I deem your answer unsuitable, the level of pain will increase. So we shall begin again until I receive answer the answer I want."

He felt a slight vibration coming from his cloak's pocket and didn't need to look and see that Daniela had arrived. There were plenty of his men there to report she was waiting outside. Mark nodded. "Allow her in."

He then turned back to the crime boss before him. "What is it you specialize in selling and who are your contacts?"

Big let out a pained whimper, attempting not to scream. He didn't want to lose his exterior in front of this group, especially since he wanted them to know he was still a big shot in command of himself, at least. The finger smarted and more than that, it hurt badly. Not that he said a thing.

Big instead said, "Your name Socrates, by any chance? Trying to see what I don't know and do? Well, I do know I pimp prostitutes and push crack and guns under the counter. And I also work protection..."

As Daniela walked in to witness the procedure, he hardened and said, "Against people like her."

Daniela smiled with a sick glee, and said, "I'm flattered. Though I wonder about why you just don't call me a butcher. I did wipe out your gang, you know."

At that, Big frowned, and erupted in rage.

With seething anger, he said, "You damn fuzzball. Go to hell."

He then spat at Daniela, the attempt going far short of target. The catgirl glared at Big and said to Mark, "Do with him whatever you like" in a curt manner, before going up to Big and kicking him in the groin and departing. She needed a nice long catnap....

Big meanwhile, said, "Ugh...my contacts...fuck. Gimme a minute."

Mark ignored Big's remarks concerning his manners and reasons for questioning. Instead, he simply made a note of the markets that Big controlled and specialized in. It was about at that time that Daniela made her way down the stairs.

A few of the Gauntlet members passed the world along to Mark that his friend had arrived but it was hardly necessary. He sat back and watched the exchange between the two contenders while allowing a small smile of approval to creep onto his face.

None of Mark's associates made any move to help Big to his seat when he keeled over from the blow to the groin though more than a few laughed. As Daniela left, a few of the men escorted her back out of the building to make sure no one had followed her and so that she would return safely to her place.

Mark continued on with the questioning as if nothing had happened. "Your contacts and who you work protection for."

Mark ignored Big's remarks concerning his manners and reasons for questioning. Instead, he simply made a note of the markets that Big controlled and specialized in. It was about at that time that Daniela made her way down the stairs.

A few of the Gauntlet members passed the world along to Mark that his friend had arrived but it was hardly necessary. He sat back and watched the exchange between the two contenders while allowing a small smile of approval to creep onto his face.

None of Mark's associates made any move to help Big to his seat when he keeled over from the blow to the groin though more than a few laughed. As Daniela left, a few of the men escorted her back out of the building to make sure no one had followed her and so that she would return safely to her place.

Mark continued on with the questioning as if nothing had happened. "Your contacts and who you work protection for."

Big mumbled, realizing he was at the mercy of these psychos, "Ugh...." He paused, and thought what he could do. He couldn't do anything to resist them, and he wasn't the type to talk--usually. Folks like him tried to keep their mouths shut. However, he had spilled his guts already, and besides, he was scared as hell right now and in pain. He found himself, as such, beginning to spill his guts.

"Fucking Italian Mafia and the Al-Juhziz Syndicate. Those rats sold me out.....for chicken change. They were supposed to help me, but they didn't send their Goddamn soldiers, cause they didn't think I was fucking good enough.....because some of my associates got ambitious....shit. What's a man's word worth nowadays!?" He then mumbled, "Fucking wops. They can go back to New Jersey and suck themselves. At least the Irish down on the docks don't fuck with me much. And your fuzzball probably pegged them too."

He then mumbled and said, "And they don't fuck with the shops, dope dealers and hustlers I hit up for protection. I need them."

Big then glared at the group and shouted, "And now your damn fuzzball took that shit away!"

There seemed very little else of importance that Big could offer. It was slightly disappointing that someone who had required so much effort, was worth so little value. Still, the assassin reminded himself that starting small was the key when opening new markets on other worlds. Too much of the Gauntlet spreading quickly was not always a good thing.

Now came the thoughts on what to do with the buffoon. Mark could simply kill him, torture him endlessly, bring him into the folds of the Gauntlet, or just let him go. Since the man knew so much about Mark and his friends now, it was impossible to let Big wander back out into the world he was accustomed to. He could easily run to the authorities and ruin everything that Mark had worked to establish here. Torturing Big, while fascinating to some, served no purpose for Mark. There was simply no need for it here.

In the end, Mark leaned forward and touched his fingers in a steeple in front of his face. "Mr. Big, I only have one question left for you. Is there anything else you could possibly tell me that would convince me that you should be spared pain? Anything that might bring mercy into the hearts of your captors?"

There seemed very little else of importance that Big could offer. It was slightly disappointing that someone who had required so much effort, was worth so little value. Still, the assassin reminded himself that starting small was the key when opening new markets on other worlds. Too much of the Gauntlet spreading quickly was not always a good thing.

Now came the thoughts on what to do with the buffoon. Mark could simply kill him, torture him endlessly, bring him into the folds of the Gauntlet, or just let him go. Since the man knew so much about Mark and his friends now, it was impossible to let Big wander back out into the world he was accustomed to. He could easily run to the authorities and ruin everything that Mark had worked to establish here. Torturing Big, while fascinating to some, served no purpose for Mark. There was simply no need for it here.

In the end, Mark leaned forward and touched his fingers in a steeple in front of his face. "Mr. Big, I only have one question left for you. Is there anything else you could possibly tell me that would convince me that you should be spared pain? Anything that might bring mercy into the hearts of your captors?"

It was with that question that Big then grew shocked, his eyes wider than fine china plates. He sputtered as he replied, "You sick shit.....you can't kill me. I know where all the good shit is. It's just in other people's hands. Al-Juhziz, they got people all over LA County and Orange County for example. Inglewood, the docks at San Pedro, people at the Airport, Westminster....even gots people in Hollywood that run blackmail. And until recently, they had us as people selling narcotics." He evidently didn't know about the Triad usage of the LAPD on the Inglewood site.

He then began panicking and spoke.

"The trouble is that LA County and Orange Counties are small swimming pools--rich pools, but small ones. Your fuzzball and her Triad playmates are but two players in this here swimming pool! Russkies, Yakuzas, gangstas and shits of all sorts are playing for the big time here. Hell, Al-Juhziz even has trouble holding onto the big time. And how do you think the underworld's gonna react when they learn your furball's gone Otto von Bismarck on the whole of the City of Compton!? So go on, kill me. It's not like you candyass fantasy novel rejects, your Chinaman houseboys, and your damn furball will do any better!" He then spat at Mark, out of panic and anger.

You can't kill me. The mere thought that a gang lord would utter such nonsense spoke volumes to Mark and his men. Matters of crime were greatly different here on this world than on Mythrandir. Death continuously hung in the balance when crime syndicates went to war in the streets of the great cities.

Mark reclined as he scarcely heard Big's pleas and reasoning behind why he should live. It was time that the underworld here was shaken up. As the last of Big's protests were aired, along with dribbles of spit, Mark turned to the man with a small smile.

"Mr. Big, overall I must say you have been very cooperative. It was that in mind that I have decided to forgo anymore pain in your life. Yes, your death shall be quick."

He nodded to one of his associates still lurking in the dark. The man pulled a dagger from his belt side and held it to Big's throat. Mark turned to head up the stairs for a bath and some rest. "Life is full of pain, Mr. Big. You should thank me that I am ending your suffering before it could be prolonged. Worry no more about this life but look to what lays beyond."

You can't kill me. The mere thought that a gang lord would utter such nonsense spoke volumes to Mark and his men. Matters of crime were greatly different here on this world than on Mythrandir. Death continuously hung in the balance when crime syndicates went to war in the streets of the great cities.

Mark reclined as he scarcely heard Big's pleas and reasoning behind why he should live. It was time that the underworld here was shaken up. As the last of Big's protests were aired, along with dribbles of spit, Mark turned to the man with a small smile.

"Mr. Big, overall I must say you have been very cooperative. It was that in mind that I have decided to forgo anymore pain in your life. Yes, your death shall be quick."

He nodded to one of his associates still lurking in the dark. The man pulled a dagger from his belt side and held it to Big's throat. Mark turned to head up the stairs for a bath and some rest. "Life is full of pain, Mr. Big. You should thank me that I am ending your suffering before it could be prolonged. Worry no more about this life but look to what lays beyond."

Big then realized that his pleading, which was inevitably not going to work, screamed, "You asshole! Go to hell!" as a final, desperate taunt of sorts, before the executioner finished him off.

-------------------

The next day's sunrise brought a groggy head for Daniela, a pick-me-up of coffee, vodka and Espresso Shots, and a look on the morning news.

"Police today are investigating a possible connection between a string of armed robberies, arsons, and murders last night that took place in the City of Compton. We now go to Tom Hedley for details.

Tom here. Compton's been known throughout Los Angeles as a place where you don't go unless you're tough, a social worker, or a cop who's seen it all. However, the fair city of Compton, which was otherwise quiet until recently, exploded in what LAPD and LAFD officials are calling the events another unfortunate case of gang violence gone amok--in fact, some of the bloodiest in years. So far, thousands of dollars in property damage has occurred, and the death toll is ten.

(Cuts to scenes of firefighters and cops investigating scenes of battle).

The events occurred last night, between seven o'clock and five o'clock in the morning. LAPD officers described scenes of chaos, with numerous fires, shootings, and attacks--all happening in a staggered, yet seemingly organized order.

"This has the work of gangs all over it," said Officer Ray Jones.

Eyewitnesses say it was inevitable.

"Those damn thugs....they had it coming......you could smell it in the air, like some kinda war was gonna happen...then BAM! Damn neckers charge in likea bat outta hell."

Police are currently investigating the manner, but are currently unable to ascertain any leads--local citizens, as usual, have proven uncooperative. As always, citizens are encouraged to call the CRASH hotline at 1-800-CRIMESTO-

Daniela then turned off the TV, and then put on some decent clothes before going downstairs to manage her restaurant. Greeting her employees as they fired up the grills, she wandered about, making sure they had enough supplies to feed a hungry populace. After all, these were her people, and she was their Queen now, pretty much.

Still, she wondered what would happen now? First was to rebuild. Then, to expand out. Inevitably, the unification of Compton meant she was now a power to be reckoned with. Now, however, she recognized that the Mafia and the Al-Juhziz Organization, as damaged as Kwok had made them with his diversions, would inevitably try again. And, there were the Yakuzas and Russians, eager to wiat for a moment of weakness.

Ah well. At least all she had to worry for now was how to make the huevos rancheros. Any fool could fry eggs and put salsa on them, but it took that something to make them worth paying money for. And for that, she used her paper to contact Mark again.

"I want to talk to you. I've breakfast ready at the restaurant."

Traditionally in Mythrandir, merchants lived in their place of business. When Mark went to bed that evening, he did not venture far from the sight of the gruesome execution. A small private room had been set off for him to use.

As dawn approached, Mark awoke refreshed and ready to start a new day. Successful executions and assassinations had a tendency of providing a wondrous nights sleep. He soaked in the warm shower water and allowed it to relax the tense muscles in his shoulders and back. Once finished, he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed to the mirror for a shave.

It was straight blade work the entire way through as he removed the last bits of stubble from his face. Running some water, Mark removed the dabs of lather still on his face. He smiled into the clear complexion on the other side and headed back into his room as the reports on last nights activities began drifting over the speakers.

Mark had managed to retrofit an orb to pick up the broadcasting networks and feed them through a holographic screen. It was just as well since the screen could move with him. He paid the reports little heed as he walked past. All that interested him was when the talk of the surge in violence would die down. There was a body to dispose of though that was already being taken care of.

Still, the assassin knew there would be many more nights like that to come. Yes it was true they had taken a large chunk of the competition out of one city, but as a brother in one chapel of the Gauntlet he would not be satisfied with just one city.

Mark felt that little mental tug which informed him that he had a message from Daniela. He moved quickly to the drawer and pulled the piece of parchment from its resting place.

"I want to talk to you. I've breakfast ready at the restaurant."

The man smiled and grabbed his quill. "I love a woman that has the same time table as I do. I shall be there momentarily."

Mark rolled the parchment up and set it aside on his bed. He moved to his closet and grabbed a few pieces of local clothing. Dressing out in jeans and a black coat, he headed out for the streets of Compton.

A few moments later, he passed through the door of Daniela's diner.

Mark rolled the parchment up and set it aside on his bed. He moved to his closet and grabbed a few pieces of local clothing. Dressing out in jeans and a black coat, he headed out for the streets of Compton.

A few moments later, he passed through the door of Daniela's diner.

One of her waitresses noticed Mark's presence, and then whispered to her boss, "Señora, he's here." Daniela waited in the back with her plates of food, aforementioned eggs with salsa, scrambled for her, over easy for him. It was almost kinda romantic, in a slightly gushy, Hollywood sort of way. She motioned for the waitress who spotted him to seat him in a booth out of the way, and then when she was satisified Daniela then picked the plates up, and sauntered out of the kitchen to where Mark was.

Plopping the plates down professionally, she sat down and said folding her hands with a smile, "Another local specialty. We call them huevos rancheros. Really nothing more elaborate than fried eggs with a slightly chunky and moderately spiced tomato and onion based hot sauce on top. But I guarantee you it's the thought that counts. Not to mention the practice you get from cooking it repeatedly for lots of hungry folks."

She then leaned back and said, looking about before speaking, "But, speaking of thoughts....where do we go from here? I think you and me both know Compton's ours. That's going to be bound to anger some people, dontcha think?" She then began nibbling at her eggs.

Mark gladly accepted the plate and gave his thanks. Eliminating a mark had always awoken a hunger inside that he did not usually feel and today his stomach roared with it. He dipped his fork into the eggs and took a bite to test the taste. Surprisingly, for foreign food, it was quite good.

"It's delicious."

He could tell something was on Daniela's mind but there was no sense in rushing the matter. Whatever it was, it could wait. Mark allowed the woman to eat her own breakfast while the enjoyed the simple normalcy of having a meal together. If any knew of what had occurred the night before, it would indeed look peculiar to see two professional killers eating breakfast together.

"But, speaking of thoughts....where do we go from here? I think you and me both know Compton's ours. That's going to be bound to anger some people, dontcha think?"

Mark smiled as he put his fork to the side. "Perhaps, but it hardly concerns me. I learned a lot from your friend last night amidst the perpetual state of fear he was in til the very end. Your world is not use to the sort of tactics and brutality that we are. There is a goal before the Gauntlet and one quite attainable. You do not have to seek it with us but make no mistake. You are free to stay here happy and content with controlling this one city.

We on the other hand will be moving on. Now that we have established ourselves on this world, more will come to expand our influence. Eventually, the rest of these crime lords will fall or join with us. But we will take over the underworld of this planet, or fail in the attempt. No matter what, I have no intention of sitting content with just one victory."

Mark smiled as he put his fork to the side. "Perhaps, but it hardly concerns me. I learned a lot from your friend last night amidst the perpetual state of fear he was in til the very end. Your world is not use to the sort of tactics and brutality that we are. There is a goal before the Gauntlet and one quite attainable. You do not have to seek it with us but make no mistake. You are free to stay here happy and content with controlling this one city.

We on the other hand will be moving on. Now that we have established ourselves on this world, more will come to expand our influence. Eventually, the rest of these crime lords will fall or join with us. But we will take over the underworld of this planet, or fail in the attempt. No matter what, I have no intention of sitting content with just one victory."

As Daniela nibbled her plate, she responded with a raise of her eyebrows and a simple, muted, "Wasn't chickening out on you. I'm still all in, frankly--I'm just being realistic about the situation outside our little city, is all. New tactics or not, people will get irritated. You know that. Kwok knows that, I know that. Doesn't mean we're going to quit now. We can't--if I quit, if Kwok does, then I won't get to keep my gains."

It was obvious she found Mark's comment a little unnerving. In fact, it seemed to Daniela that she was being reminded that she was acting like a small-time thug--something that she was trying not to be. The Compton Job had certainly catapulted her into the big time now, and now she had to remind herself of that.

Pointedly, she said, wiping her mouth, "Besides--I joined under the understanding I'd be part of something bigger. Running a suburb of Los Angeles out of a small restaurant is a start, but not enough. I'm thinking...."

She then leaned back and thought, and then came up with an idea.

"You got me thinking now. I think it's time I called in my associates. If I'm gonna play it big, we're gonna need to really get people to fall in and invest." Nibbling some more, she said, "To begin, I get the neechans, other people like me, from all over California, and band them together with Kwok's triads. The man knows people, as do I. We put enough heads together, do that voodoo like you do, and who knows? We'd have North America, or even Earth by Christmas."

"Point here, is that I'm still in this gig; I'm just formulating a plan to figure out where to go now. Ya dig?" Daniela smiled as she ate her food.

"I understand perfectly."

Mark continued on with his breakfast as Daniela elaborated on her ideas. It was good that she was willing to stay the course and expand further. Anything was possible with his associates but Mark was wise enough to take help when it was offered. If nothing else, it made matters easier for him and his men.

"The more we have aiding our cause, or at least submitting to our will, the greater our chances of success. My concern is keeping all parties involved in their proper place. Make no mistake, I am here to further my organization's influence but by helping us you also help yourself. You will be far wealthier and more powerful than ever before.

The problem with gaining power, is keeping it. Once loyal servants may one day try to assert power for themselves. Perhaps even your own colleagues may try to turn against you one day. As we expand, we must be cautious who is kept close to us. Trust few, and keep fewer close to you."

Mark dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "Now as for where we go from here, I recommend expanding out into surrounding cities to create a stronger base before striking out against other crime organizations you have here on this world."

Mark dabbed the corners of his mouth with a napkin. "Now as for where we go from here, I recommend expanding out into surrounding cities to create a stronger base before striking out against other crime organizations you have here on this world."

Daniela knew Mark's point, frankly. And he was right. She had a trusted bodyguard and people who reported to her directly for a reason. And, she often spoke to street snitches for a reason. She was keenly aware of the fact that in an organization built to make money illegally, there were always people who would sell one another out or gain, either to LAPD CRASH or to rival gangs. Thus, she kept her people under watch, and nodded in agreement as he admonished her to be careful.

Daniela nodded and said at the end of his speech, "Right. Hence, my push to unite the gangs in the area." Nibbling some more food, she said, "I'm gonna call a meeting tonight of the neechans. We get them together, we get Kwok's people together....." She then washed it down with a glass of orange juice, letting Mark to figure her point out.

"Sounds like a solid idea, my dear. The more blades in our little army, the better. We will have to strike at another organization some day soon and I believe it will require more force than finesse this time."

Mark scooped up the last of his breakfast and chased it with a cup of coffee. It was just the meal he needed after a fulfilling night. Only killing a making love to a woman worked on his appetite in such a way.

"Once we begin more expanding, I will have more associates coming here to set up outposts in outlying areas. You will meet them all in time but that is later. Did you want me to come to your meeting? You know, in case there are a few unbelievers in the crowd."

OOC: I had a better post, until my compy messed up.

IC:

Daniela nodded in assent, replying, "I'd come. And bring your friends. These meets tend to get a little rowdy."

She then wiped her mouth and moved to clean up their plates, saying, "I'll see you at the meeting, then. Keep in touch." Daniela gave a smile to her confidante, and then left.

--------------

Some time later

With the appropriate phone calls made, a meeting was arranged in the desert outside of Los Angeles. San Bernardino County was littered with the remnants of war, centuries of it. It had experienced raiders, gata tribes, Dornalian soldiers and other folks in an epic clash over this no-mans-land, in sweltering weather.

Now, Mark and his team would be asked to come to a deslolate spot in the middle of this waste. A tent was pitched, with guards equipped with night-vision to keep away nosy people. Most were catgirls like Daniela, but a few of the fabled Elven Assasins were there too. Armed to the teeth, they had night vision goggles, sniper rifles, plasma weapons, et cetera. And, they greeted guests with a nod and a pat-down--although Daniela let the Gauntlet men through without issue.

The meeting space was sparse. Around a card table sat seven women, dressed in clothing that, if not similar to Daniela's in the letter of the law, then it was similar in concept. It was rugged everyday wear, often looking worn and purchased at low cost at some discount department store or thrift store. The only thing about it was that many were emblazoned with gang symbols and gang colors.

Daniela then whipped out a gavel and said, "Alright, you lot. Let's get this meeting started," banging the gavel. "Roll call."

The names were announced, and read like a veritable list of thugs. There were some from Daniela's Abogados de Ley Jacinta. From Fresno, Lucinda Moreno's Grupo Original showed its hand, pumping their tattooed fists in air with chants of how they were the progenitors of the Abogados.

Naturally, she was shouted down with cries of "halfbreed" and "bitch!"--she did look a bit more human than the rest, her cat ears less pronounced and with no tail, she was even more human looking than the others, who already looked like ordinary folks--and the meeting was returned to order with a bang of a gavel.

From Bakersfield, Francesca Maria-chibi's Bakersfield Marauders band of the Abogados gave an orderly assent. As did the Easterlies band, led by Juanita Daniela-chibi out of Riverside, California. And the Abogados del Norte band led by Daniela's cousin, Luisa Jacinta-chibi.

To round off the list, the Central Rangers out of San Luis Obispo and the Santa Ynez Valley raised their hands in assent, led by Kylie Flor-chibi. The powerful 14th Street Gang based out of San Francisco and covering the Sacramento area, was represented by a relatively well dressed, haughty Marciela Jacinta-chibi. The two looked at each other somewhat guardedly, for Daniela knew that the two competed over the Imperial Valley and its minor gangs and major assets.

The other groups seemed a bit more orderly in organization. Though each of the Abogados groupings each claimed to represent the franchises under their command, the other groups from Northern and Central California showed somewhat more unity, despite what seemed to be the larger numbers of the Abogados de Ley Jacinta. Perhaps Daniela's forceful move would change all that.

Roll call was finished, and Daniela then said, "Right. We gots to get to business. I'm here to offer you a proposition. As some of you may--"

Murmurs of "Come on!" and "What!?" erupted, before the gavel banged and Daniela said, "Man, shut the fuck up! I'm talkin' here!" She then said, "As I was saying before I was interrupted, I have a proposition. I just took over the entirety of Compton, and have established the dominance of the Abogados in the LA Area." Brushing off more catcalls (no pun intended) she then said, "I know, I know. But here's the point. I'm thinking bigger than Los Angeles, and hell, even California. I've called you all here, because I think we can all agree that we're all looking for ways to make money, and to get shit done. Well, I met a group that could get shit done. And it's the Velvet Gauntlet. Some friends from Mythrandir. They've got ships, they've got experienced assasins who can help us fuck up anybody that opposes us--"

Now, Daniela got confused replies, and she banged her gavel until Marcela said, "My dear Daniela, taking over Compton, a town full of unwashed thugs, is all well and good. But we in 14th Street--and I'm sure your comrades--are asking what is the point here?"

Daniela said, speaking above catcalls and using her gavel to continually restore order, "The point here is that my conquest was just part one of a bigger expansion plan. That is, I intend to expand my already nascent space-based ops and use California as a base to build myself into something bigger.

Now, I could easily say 'fuck y'all' and shoot every one of you as part of it. But right now, I know that's not right--it wastes money, resources, and ain't useful. So I think it's better that we team up, and use our resources to establish our dominance of California and forge a bigger place for ourselves in the wider universe."

The others murmured, and Luisa said, "Wait, wait. Daniela, are you saying that you're just offering us an opportunity to enter into the opportunity of a lifetime?"

Daniela nodded.

"The fuck didn't you say so, girl?" Luisa said.

"I did say that, Louie. Okay? Try to pay attention." She then said, "As my cousin just said, I intend to give you all the opportunity of a lifetime. As a man once said, 'join me, and you will become more powerful than you will ever imagine.'"

Kylie said, skeptically, "But how do we do this?"

Daniela said, smiling, "We pool together our space-based resources, we pool together our ops, and we coordinate intel and merchandise and transport. When one of us gets hit, we all get hit. Ya dig?"

Lucinda replied, "But hold on. What makes you think that we'd agree long enough to do this?"

"The money involved, and the chance to bash the heads of all those cabrones that have opposed us. Don't any of you guys have trouble with competition in your turf?" Daniela proudly said.

The others muttered, "Yeah, yeah." They all knew what she was talking about. They competed with one another, with the Triads, with the Yakuza, and all the major gangs. All with varying degrees of success.

"So why not join up? You'd have the money to rule supreme without competition. And it eliminates one source of it." Daniela pointed out.

The others nodded and murmured thoughtfully. Daniela then said, pointing to Mark, "Y'all don't believe me, ask him. He's the one who proposed the idea, and helped me with taking out my competition. Mark, my man, tell these girls about the benefits of joining our arrangement."

Looking more like desert bandits than the wealthy businessmen that Mark and his associates tended to be disguised as, they showed up to the appointed desert tent wrapped in cloth with capes snapping in the desert wind. Cloth wrapped around their head to keep the sand and wind out of their faces.

Four figures stepped out of the car to view the new landscape before them. One was undoubtedly Mark in the same pitch black outfit that he wore on the night of the raid. Standing beside him was a short but burly figure with a long fiery red beard. Burly arms crossed his barrel chest as the dwarf stared at the gathered crooks. Behind Bunklebrum and Mark were two other human figures dressed similarly in black.

Once pass the guards, the four figures revealed their faces by moving the cloth head wrappings to the side. It appeared as if New Dornalia had no shortage of the odds and ends of different races. Mark had to gently squeeze the shoulder of his dwarven comrade at the sight of an elf considering that Bunklebrum would rather split the creature in two than be in the same room as one.

The moment passed though and the members from the Gauntlet where inside the tent and stood off in the back to allow Daniela to speak and have her time in the light. Standing in the back did not prevent them from observing the others though. It looked as if unity was still a ways off here with racial slurs and mistrust still evident on many of their faces. Mark had to wonder how many of them would have to be killed before the Gauntlet could go forward with its mission. If nothing else, at least they would prove to be useful idiots until it was time to cut them loose.

There was little to expect from complacent criminals as it seemed most of the gathered were. They were happy with their lot in the city though still complained once and a while about competition. Still, it seemed that few were willing to do anything about it or had the ability to. If that was the case, then it would be prudent to cut them out now. So many possibilities at the confusion of such a matter tickled at Mark's mind that he nearly missed the end of Daniela's speech.

Mark and his associates moved through the crowd and stood up by Daniela. "We have infiltrated countless worlds across the galaxy just like yours in order to establish more of our influence. Everything from simple drugs and prostitution to weapon smuggling and political influence is our merchandise of choice. We do not seek to simply make a claim on a small piece of land and set up shop. We aim to control and overthrow.

Those that wish to join with us will be made an authority of their own interests and share in the benefits that flow to the Velvet Gauntlet. Any who try to oppose are swiftly dealt with. We in the Gauntlet do not believe in making deals or affording multiple chances. You will have one opportunity to decide. Should you choose to stay independent, then that is your right. You will never see me or my associates again as long as you stay out of our way though do not doubt we will have eyes upon you.

The rest will be cut down without mercy. Prisoners do not interest us and there is no reason to keep an unwilling partner alive. If you do not desire to partake in an empire that will span worlds and stars, then I suggest you leave quietly and never raise your voice to us else your tongue will be cut out."

Mark fished to the side of his cloak and produced a burlap sack and tossed it on the table while his eyes never left the rest of the crowd. "For those of you that believe I am bluffing, feel free to ask your friend how serious I am."

Mark and his associates moved through the crowd and stood up by Daniela. "We have infiltrated countless worlds across the galaxy just like yours in order to establish more of our influence. Everything from simple drugs and prostitution to weapon smuggling and political influence is our merchandise of choice. We do not seek to simply make a claim on a small piece of land and set up shop. We aim to control and overthrow.

Those that wish to join with us will be made an authority of their own interests and share in the benefits that flow to the Velvet Gauntlet. Any who try to oppose are swiftly dealt with. We in the Gauntlet do not believe in making deals or affording multiple chances. You will have one opportunity to decide. Should you choose to stay independent, then that is your right. You will never see me or my associates again as long as you stay out of our way though do not doubt we will have eyes upon you.

The rest will be cut down without mercy. Prisoners do not interest us and there is no reason to keep an unwilling partner alive. If you do not desire to partake in an empire that will span worlds and stars, then I suggest you leave quietly and never raise your voice to us else your tongue will be cut out."

Mark fished to the side of his cloak and produced a burlap sack and tossed it on the table while his eyes never left the rest of the crowd. "For those of you that believe I am bluffing, feel free to ask your friend how serious I am."

The lot of them looked at one another and then looked at Mark's entourage with a mix of skepticism and amazement that someone could be so ambitious. For a moment, they thought he was bluffing. A dwarf, a bunch of fantasy creatures.....the group, as Daniela thought of them at first, looked like some sort of crude cyberpunk-fantasy hybrid out of a dime-store novel, with egos to match. Some of them began to giggle, especially Marciela. It was too much, almost too much to be true.

Marciela was the first one to break the awkward mood, as she said haughtily, "Oh my. It seems the Middle Ages has lost their conquering hero." She then pointed to the opening of the tent, and with a note of jocular sarcasm said, "Little boy, Sherwood Forest is that way."

Daniela then slammed her gavel down and said, "Alright, alright, shut the fuck up!" She then glared at Marciela, and said, "Mark said, y'all don't believe him, ask me about it. Well, lemme put it this way. Any of you guys see what happen to the Rusty Bucket Bar and Grill down in Compton?"

Luisa replied, "Yeah, all over the news. It was a Goddamn massacre. The feature of every bloody picture website on the HoloNet. Why?"

"Well, that happened to be Mark's work. His crew went down there with a full wrecking crew--the same one in front of you guys. Cleaned the fucking place out. Dissappeared Mr. Big. Didn't do the usual run-and-gun like y'all do. He just went in there, no survivors." He then lept at Marciela and went "BAM!" The crowd lept back, and the bodyguards reached for their pieces, before Daniela backed off and waved them down.

She then got up and dusted herself up, saying as she got up and spoke with pride, "Anywho, as I was saying, that's but one example of the Velvet Gauntlet's handiwork. And, there's no evidence the police can find. If they can do that to them, imagine what they could do to you if you fuck with us. In contrast, I've gained from the Velvet's assistance. I own Compton, and one of the most secure bases in Los Angeles--a city that, as y'all know, is a fucking knife fight in a swimming pool in this business. And y'all know that us gatas have been on the edge for some time in the LA area."

They nodded and looked at one another. The mention of the Rusty Bucket Massacre caused them all to take notice--if that was the Gauntlet's work...then these motherfuckers were serious indeed about their killing power and their capacities.

Then, to top it all off, she decided to add a little embellishment.

"And, they're even good enough to take on the Mafia and the big gangs from out East. They helped in that, you know."

Luisa then said, with a sarcastic smile, "That's a damn lie, and you know it."

But, as Daniela stiffened up, Luisa said, "But, you had me at the Rusty Bucket Massacre, and the fact you stayed strong even against those other gangstas. I'm in, cuz."

The others sighed, and then began saying, "I'm in." Eventually, everybody but 14th Street agreed to join in on the deal. Marciela got up, and said, "Thanks, but no thanks. I still don't trust them."

She then left the tent, her guards following. Daniela then poked at the head of the Elven assasins, and said, pulling out her huge wad of cash, "Hermie, here's an extra few hundred bucks. Trail her, don't do anything. If she does do anything, tell me." At that, the German Elf nodded. The man then nodded, and then motioned to two of his compatriots, ordering them in German to follow. Daniela then walked up to Mark and passed him a scrap of paper, saying, "I just sent a couple of trackers. She acts, they'll know."

If Mark was offended by the comments of some of the gangsters, the man did not show it on his stoic features. The entire showing was a simple matter of studying the hand he had been dealt to see who was worth the effort of bringing into the Gauntlet and who would need to be eliminated. By their combined reactions, most of the gathered appeared to be buying into the idea of something greater than just controlling one street or one world.

Still, there were those that held little faith and could not be trusted. Mark did not bother to defend himself against the verbal attacks of someone who deemed inferior to himself and the others. Though that did not prevent thoughts of tearing her heart from flowing through his mind. He could feel the dwarf at his side bristle at the remarks and could well imagine his axe cleaving the woman's skull. But all held their composure despite what worked in their minds.

When the woman finally left, it was clear that Marciela was going to have to be dealt with. Mark quickly read the note from Daniela and was grateful that the woman was already moving in the right direction, but Mark's plan was deeper than simply spying on criminal leader that was not willing to join. There was after all, an unsolved massacre still plaguing the authorities of Compton. No reason why Mark could not help them solve the case.

Waving over one of his human counterparts, Mark picked up the burlap sac and handed it to the man. "Make sure our friend receives Mr. Big's head. Perhaps that will help her realize just how serious we are."

He turned his attention back to Daniela and said with a smile, "A decent enough start I would wager. We have enough on board that we can begin laying down the basics for expansion."

When Daniela realized what was in the bag, she raised an eyebrow and said, "Shoot. That was in the bag? Why didn't you say so?" Not particularly annoyed by that development, however, she seemed nonetheless a bit miffed that the grisly trophy wasn't in the open for her to use. She then nodded at his assessment, and added, "That's putting it simply. We have enough resources to ensure that California and the West Coast comply with our wishes."

Turning to the rest of the group, she said, asking them, "So, what now?"

Luisa said, "Well, inevitably, there comes spreading the word of our new alliance across Cali and the West. I don't imagine a lot of folks would be happy."

Daniela replied, "Then we can contest their protests, yes? We've the skills and manpower."

The others nodded.

"Also, what of space-based assets? We gots to consolidate and move our goods, since we're thinking space based now." Daniela noted this and began strutting about. "Well?"

Kylie replied, "We can get our contractors moving together. I mean, if we have all of our people working together, we can actually do something respectable with our crews, like, moving onto other planets, or other parts of Earth to begin inserting people, selling product, etc. Though if I'm correct, you had a pretty big crew yourself."

"Still do, neechan. No need to use the past tense." Daniela said, smiling. "So that's what we do then. Move in, start pushing, co-opting local people with product and cash, and shoot if they don't agree. We could even do what Cortez did and even use a little divide and conquer."

The others nodded and agreed. It all seemed rather common-sense. Kylie then asked Mark, "Mark--that was the name, wasn't it?--what do you think?"

Mark stood back and listened as the final gathered began to discuss their own ideas and voice their concerns. He held his tongue as he listened to their conversations. Eventually he was called out and only then did he step forward.

"First I am wondering why anyone needs to know about this little alliance. The way I see it is that the less the world knows of us, the greater our advantage. Sure there are some that would think twice before troubling any of you but what is to prevent others from joining together to challenge us?

Keep them separated and that will allow us to easily pick them off one at a time. By the time they realize that this is a unified effort, they will either be serving us or dead.

With regards to your space enterprising, I believe it is time we start moving people into position so that we may begin smuggling a greater quantity of goods. Paying bribes without end can spell the death of any solid business. We need to be able to move from planet to planet without any hindrance or checks.

Thoughts?"

Mark stood back and listened as the final gathered began to discuss their own ideas and voice their concerns. He held his tongue as he listened to their conversations. Eventually he was called out and only then did he step forward.

"First I am wondering why anyone needs to know about this little alliance. The way I see it is that the less the world knows of us, the greater our advantage. Sure there are some that would think twice before troubling any of you but what is to prevent others from joining together to challenge us?

Keep them separated and that will allow us to easily pick them off one at a time. By the time they realize that this is a unified effort, they will either be serving us or dead.

With regards to your space enterprising, I believe it is time we start moving people into position so that we may begin smuggling a greater quantity of goods. Paying bribes without end can spell the death of any solid business. We need to be able to move from planet to planet without any hindrance or checks.

Thoughts?"

The meeting was abuzz with ideas, and Kylie replied, "You know, you've a point. I mean, what's to stop the Triads and Yakuzas from joining forces? Or worse yet, the cops from getting their grubby mitts into things? If we're too open about this, we might be in worse shit than before!"

The others, including Daniela, nodded. She then declared, "Okay, we should probably for now focus on infiltration and movement. Anybody asks about this, we can say it was so y'all could witness the reunification of the Ley Jacinta into one big Fundacion. Otherwise, we're all officially the same feuding cats we were before. Now, we keep this on the DL. We only let trust people within our Fundaciones know. We quickly begin moving people offworld and into other cities, blend in with other communities of gatas and go to all sorts of places, and begin quietly dealing elsewhere on the DL. Remember the submariners' creed. Run silent, run deep! Don't do nothing that brings in the cops, don't do nothing that gets the other gangs into the action. You get under fire, call for help, we'll move in. Ya dig?"

They all nodded thusly....

The nodding of their heads was all the verification that Mark needed to see that the gathered were willing to do what was necessary and follow his ideas. They did not necessarily need to be loyal to him, but as long as they held to the idea that had only just begun to blossom in their minds, then there was little for Mark to fear. Satisfied with the results, Mark was ready to move on and put their plans into motion. Talk was the bane of action and Mark was a man of action.

"If there is nothing else, then I recommend adjourning so that we may see to our respective groups. The time has come for you to take hold of this world and to rise above more than what you have been all these years. With our help, it is time to show this world a better class of criminals."

The nodding of their heads was all the verification that Mark needed to see that the gathered were willing to do what was necessary and follow his ideas. They did not necessarily need to be loyal to him, but as long as they held to the idea that had only just begun to blossom in their minds, then there was little for Mark to fear. Satisfied with the results, Mark was ready to move on and put their plans into motion. Talk was the bane of action and Mark was a man of action.

"If there is nothing else, then I recommend adjourning so that we may see to our respective groups. The time has come for you to take hold of this world and to rise above more than what you have been all these years. With our help, it is time to show this world a better class of criminals."

The women nodded, and began to break camp. Nodding and swearing various oaths, they commenced to perform unique handshakes and other such rituals, before going off to their respective autos to drive into the night. The German Elves stayed behind, to ensure the nascent spirit of sisterhood stayed that way.

As the others sped off, Daniela spoke to Mark, saying simply, "Now, we need to deal with our rogue spear, Marciela. Being that she's been here, she knows too much--she could call down our rivals, or even call down the cops." She then observantly noted, "I see what you did there with the head thing--giving her the head, so its in her possession--that's a start."

Stroking her chin, she smiled as she said, "But I think we have an opportunity here to easily dispatch her--or at the very least, cause trouble for her group. The head would make a good springboard for accusations that she was the one who really killed Mr. Big, by loaning out a hit squad that did it. Now, we just seal the deal by planting fake evidence that someone hired her to do it, and call the good folks at Internal Security's Anti-Smuggling Unit. They'll be all over her quickly, and they're generally not going to believe her easily....." She then began going, "Hmm...." as she poindered how to make this work.

It was pleasing to Mark to see that he had chosen a worthy partner as they were beginning to think more and more in sync with one another. There were still holes to fill in her thought process but she had the basics of Mark's own ideas already laid out. He simply stepped up to place a hand on her shoulder to stop her pacing.

"A very well thought out plan. If I may off some more suggestions?"

Mark waited for Daniela's permission then went ahead with his own musings. "I recommend that we supply a few eye witnesses. No one that can be traced to any gang of course. Recruit a few people off the street and offer to reward them handsomely for their cooperation. We'll have them refute everything that Marceila says once the authorities begin questioning witnesses and suspects.

To eliminate Marceila's own support, we can dispose of any of her collaborators so that it will be her word against the voice of many. Hopefully your local authorities will side with several eye witnesses over the one criminal."

It was pleasing to Mark to see that he had chosen a worthy partner as they were beginning to think more and more in sync with one another. There were still holes to fill in her thought process but she had the basics of Mark's own ideas already laid out. He simply stepped up to place a hand on her shoulder to stop her pacing.

"A very well thought out plan. If I may off some more suggestions?"

Mark waited for Daniela's permission then went ahead with his own musings. "I recommend that we supply a few eye witnesses. No one that can be traced to any gang of course. Recruit a few people off the street and offer to reward them handsomely for their cooperation. We'll have them refute everything that Marceila says once the authorities begin questioning witnesses and suspects.

To eliminate Marceila's own support, we can dispose of any of her collaborators so that it will be her word against the voice of many. Hopefully your local authorities will side with several eye witnesses over the one criminal."

At the last part, Daniela quickly replied, "Done. Though I would recommend eliminating those collaborators through things that anybody who isn't too perceptive can dub 'unfortunate accidents.' Things like a hit-and-run, et cetera. I'll let you use your imagination. As for the eyewitnesses, no problemo. That'll be taken care of soon."

She then looked at her watch and said, "Well, I'm off. I gotta rest and open the restaurant tomorrow. Weekends are usually the worst." She then pulled out a wad of cash and threw it at one of the Elves, who responded with a simple, "Danke." Daniela then smiled and said, "Well, didja need anything else? I gotta get back to LA, and sleep--restaurant opens early on weekends, we get a big rush then."

"Untimely accidents for many of her companions should not be a problem. What ever keeps the focus off of our existence, the better. It is still too early for the entire world to know that outsiders are here stirring up the locals into a frenzy."

Mark gathered up the rest of his entourage before heading to the edge of the tent. There he stopped to look at Daniela one last time. "I cannot think of anything else for now. But if you ever need anything, just remember that I am but a quill away. Good night m'Lady. We'll speak more at a later time."

OOC: Almost forgot about this thread amongst the piles of work I had.

IC:

Daniela then did a curtsy, and smiled, simply saying, "Always a pleasure to work with you." She then got back up, and then waved as she walked off, and said, "Vaya con dios, Mark. We've much to do in these next few days."

--------------------

The next morning saw Daniela making her rounds. Leaving the restaurant in the care of an assistant, she drove about the suburb of Compton. An otherwise wretched piece of suburbia, it hadn't changed much on the surface--the town had an inner city rough look to it, and the recent spate of shootings caused by the sudden war had only confirmed its reputation as a place where Gentlemen didn't go.

But, Daniela reigned over this spot now, and had used enough influence to win a new confederation. Now, as she and her ever reliable assistant Violeta drove away from a payphone, having negotiated the first of many transfers the new confederation was to make, the gang boss leaned back a bit as she took a drag off of one of her cigarettes.

There was now the matter of recruiting the fake eyewitnesses, and planting the evidence in San Francisco. As it was, she only knew a few people, and most were Wong's contacts in Chinatown. Well, it didn't matter. She had someone she could have the evidence planted on up there.

Calling her people, she began to put these things in motion....by now, she mused, Marciela would have recieved the grisly reminder not to interfere. Well, no matter--it would be her death warrant anyway. As she called people to go to San Francisco and round up sympathetic people at the watering hole Big had run for eyewitnesses, and even going so far as to use her own forgers to make fake reports and such....she couldn't help but wonder if this really was going to work.

-----------

San Francisco

Marciela, meanwhile, was sitting in her townhouse, sipping coffee and prepping herself for another day out on the town. Unlike Daniela, she certainly had some benefit of class--namely, middle class digs, good clothing, and a small florists' shop. But, as far as she was concerned, having been born into this lifestyle, she wasn't going to leave it. Let them call her Princess. THey'd have to mean it eventually.

As she left the house, she opened the door and saw the burlap sack from the meeting lodged in her flowerbox. Taking it inside, she noticed it had a strange smell....opening it up, she quickly realized what its grisly contents were. Promptly recoiling, she then realized that this could only be trouble. A scare tactic, perhaps? She then shrugged, and then moved to put the grisly thing where it couldn't be seen or smelt. It was going to be hell if the cops found this.

"Shit," she said...."What now, what now....those fucks wanna play...well, I can play too."

------

Of course, the elf hired by Daniela to shadow Marciela reported on events, and then Daniela wrote Mark, saying, "She got the head. Now, we need to get evidence to her. We are gathering the eyewitnesses and such. Care to plant the fake evidence to seal the deal?"

bump

In the usual occurrence of Gauntlet fronts, Mark was working at a legitimate business so to keep up the appearance that he was nothing more than a simple banker making a risky business venture into Compton. The assassin sat himself behind his desk while going over paper work and making mindless chatter with his secretaries. While filling out requests for vacation and checking the banking logs, Mark felt the familiar tug on his consciousness when a message from Daniela arrived.

Rolling to his desk drawer, Mark pulled the rolled parchment out and read the new message. "She got the head. Now, we need to get evidence to her. We are gathering the eyewitnesses and such. Care to plant the fake evidence to seal the deal?"

Mark pulled out his quill and began to write. It wouldn't be long before Mark's flowing script would appear on Daniela's end.

"I have one better than that. The headless body is on its way to the flower shop. Hopefully my man can sneak it into the refrigeration unit without being detected. If all else fails, a few choice weapons will appear in her household that would fit weapon patterns used by my own men. Anything else for finer touches?"

(Sorry, I had this all planned out but forgot it over the week.)

"I have one better than that. The headless body is on its way to the flower shop. Hopefully my man can sneak it into the refrigeration unit without being detected. If all else fails, a few choice weapons will appear in her household that would fit weapon patterns used by my own men. Anything else for finer touches?"



Daniela wrote back, "Nope. I got the rest taken care of. I had that elf up there following things, so I'm gonna have him call the feds on her once things get into motion."

----------

The Flower Shop itself, the "Secret Garden Florists' Company, LLC" was a simple hole in the wall. Specializing in bouquets of all sorts, people of all sorts could be seen coming in and out. Young men and women eager to impress that special someone, funeral parishoners eager to pay respects, wedding planners frantically ordering masses of roses en masse, the list went on.

However, the flower shop itself was unusual, mainly for the presence of several Elven men that worked the shop and several rough looking gatas. Speaking only to themselves in German, and daring to Open Carry their arms in a city that frowned on such a thing, the Secret Garden clearly was more than meets the eye. Mark's man would have to sneak carefully to make the plant--not that it wasn't feasible. After all, there were plenty of ways to access the shop--the rear service entrance, the front, and the side alleys, not to mention the roof and the second floor, which hosted a tarot-readers'.

A van, painted up as a local nursery, arrived at the back of the floral shop with a last minute delivery. The two delivery men watched the store for hours waiting for other vans to make their deliveries so as to better sneak in their package. Delivering a body afterall was no small feat.

When several other nursery vans arrived, the Gauntlet crew moved in to fall in line. As their turn came up, the men disembarked from their van and moved to the back in order to unload crates with tickets marked for soil and fertilizer. Upon inspection, all the tickets looked legitimate from nurseries in the area along with a few exotic flowers for the front windows.

They made minimal chatter with the others as they unloaded everything into the back of the shop. Once finished, they closed the van doors and drove off with a wave.

Out of sight, the man in the passenger seat picked up a cell phone and texted a series of letters that appeared to be gibberish but when Mark read them over his own phone; it simply translated into a job completed. Mark promptly passed the word on to Daniela that everything was set.

(Let me know if anything here needs to be changed.)

Daniela nodded when she got the message, and promptly began to set things in motion.
---------

The elf mercenary in question walked into the flowershop, and then walked up to the counter. Greeted by another one of his ilk, he asked in German, "Good day, sir.....I'd like to buy some fertilizer, a fifty pound sack's worth. I have a garden to maintain."

The elf looked at him, and went, "Lucky you, Mr. Gardener. We got us a new shipment of fertilizer in back." He then called out, "Heinrich! Check the back! Get our man a fifty pound sack!"

A reply of "Do it yourself, Gustav! I'm busy!"

"Fucking lazybones! Quit pleasuring thyself and get the fertilizer! With all due speed!"

A sullen clerk then led the mercenary into the back, whereupon the mercenary smelled the air.

"The hell is that?"

"It's shit. Fertilizer. What did you expect?" Heinrich replied.

"No, I know the smell of shit. And that's not shit."

The MErcenary looked about, until he got close to the source. A crate marked "Planting Soil" had some flies buzzing about it...more than usual.....

----------------------

Before long, the little shop was raided by the San Francisco Police Department. Our friend the Mercenary had fled when he knew where the body was placed, and in a feigned panic, dialed the number of the SFPD. Before long, the police were all over the place. An expert at decieving, being a Freigauneren agent, he quickly told the police all he saw.

And before long, ISB was brought in, the Mercenary released after being questioned about what he saw. Calling Daniela, she smiled. Now, it was time for part 2.

"No, no no....this isn't good...they find that shit, they'll trace it to my house....we gotta get it out of my place, now!"

Marciela was pacing back and forth now, using a nearby payphone. The word that ISB had suddenly descended on the rival's flowershop, and now had it covered in and out with agents, combing it with all sorts of agents as they searched the little shop and detained the staff. She was about to go in to work, but now, she opted to stay out. Things were too hot.

"Look, as it is, ISB finds that body....they find that package....they'll link it to me. I didn't do shit, you know that! Yes, yes....well, explain that....no! No shit, it was that fucking scag and her boytoy. Yes. Well, look, stop screaming at me, start doing damage control. Get me my lawyer!"

She then hung up, as she sighed. An SFPD car drove by, and then she ducked into an alley. Too close. What was Daniela up to?

--------------

"Okay, you got the story straight?"

The Elf on the other line nodded and merely muttered, in a Saxon German accent, "Yes, I do, Frau Daniela. Though....if I may...what of my fee? This is not usually what my people do, you know I will charge extra." He looked around, the payphone surrounded by people of all sorts. He figured it would be best to avoid the landlines or the private lines for now.

Daniela sighed and went, "You and your code, Gustav. Fuck." She then pulled out the money, and quickly counted it, leaning on the payphone and turning in to avoid suspicion. "I've enough for you, plus the extra 'fine' for Code Violations. Happy?"

"We are satisfied" came the stoic, simple voice. "And this is the story you have told the others?"

"Yes, Gustav. You were hired by Marciela along with another team of gatas to kill Mr. Big. We had a similar idea brewing at the time, but my gatas were too slow, and you got there first. Comprende?"

"Jawohl," was the reply. "We will turn in evidence when you give the signal."

While Daniela had her people working and Marceila was occupied with dodging the local authorities, it was the perfect time for Mark and his men to move in and plant the last bit of evidence that would seal Marceila's fate. There was no pity or remorse with Mark, there was only business for the Gauntlet and this was tying up loose ends. Let the rest of the gangs and criminals out there know that the Gauntlet was a force to recon with and all that opposed them would surely be destroyed.

Mark had a man watching Marciela's house all day waiting for the appropriate time to make the last drop. She had to leave some time in patience was abundant with the Gauntlet. Once she was gone and out of sight, a shadow slipped to her doorstep and deftly turned the locks. The shadow conducted a quick scan of the house to make sure that he was alone and that no one would interfere.

With everything cleared, he went to work planting weapons that would match all markings in Big's tavern along with plans that would show how Marciela wanted her mercenaries to conduct the raid along with the appropriate times to follow through with the plan. Standing back to admire his work, the shadow was pleased with the layout providing the illusion that Marciela had been storing weapons and planning this attack for some time.

As silent as he came, he left after locking the doors and leaving no sign that he had been there. Once on his way back to the rally point, the man passed a message along that was targeted for Mark.

It wasn't long before Mark received the message. He pulled the parchment from his desk drawer and wrote a note for Daniela.

"All is ready at Marciela's house. Weapons have been planted along with plans to higher mercenaries to kill Big. Our prey has stumbled into the web, you need only finish her off."

It wasn't long before Mark received the message. He pulled the parchment from his desk drawer and wrote a note for Daniela.

"All is ready at Marciela's house. Weapons have been planted along with plans to higher mercenaries to kill Big. Our prey has stumbled into the web, you need only finish her off."

Marciela's house

By now Marciela arrived back at her house, holding an emergency meeting with her staff as she unlocked the door. Packing her things frantically the moment she got in into a duffel bag she swiped from a nearby closet, she muttered to them, "THis is ridiculous."

One of the others said, "No kidding, coz," in a nonchalant manner. She was met with a simple reply from Marciela, who merely continued with, "We have to flee town. Each of you, get yourselves somewhere safe. Mexico, Nova Louisiana, regular Louisiana, Brazil, Burma, whatever. We have to lay low for a while, if SFPD is after us, imagine what Internal Security will do."

The woman and her staff were naturally being watched, of course. It was only a matter of time before either SFPD came to pay a visit. Or worse--some spy from the enemy. Or Internal Security could just bust in, tear gas and all.

Then, a knock. Everyone went bone-white, as Marciela had them all pull out cans of soda and some hors d'oeuvres to make it look like a social. She then ran up to the door, shouting, "Coming!"

The woman opened the door to see an ordinary Girl Scout, who said, "Ma'am, I'm here to sell--"

Marciela said, "I'm a little busy, little lady. Can I talk later?"

"But ma'am, I'm selling cookies for my troop...."

"Not now!" A slam of the door terminated the conversation.

The Girl Scout sullenly walked off, and bumped into our old friend, the Mercenary/False Witness. As he burshed himself off, he then asked the Scout, "Excuse me, miss, how much are the cookies?"

"Six dollars a box, sir."

"Okay." He then pulled out a large wad of cash, and the Girl Scout's eyes widened. The Mercenary/False Witness then said, smiling, "Miss, I will buy all of your cookies, and pay double--if you tell me what was the last house you stopped at."

The Girl Scout stopped for a moment, and pointed at Marciela's, saying, "That one. The lady there was kinda mean. She slammed the door in my face, seemed to be in a hurry."

The Mercenary nodded and replied, "Thank you, Fraulein." He then took the candy, made the exchange, and made the Girl Scout no less than several hundred dollars richer as he walked near Marciela's house. Peering through the windows, he could see she was in a panic. And, he didn't even need the x-ray scope to tell that much. It would seem his story had alerted the proper authorities, and scared the right people. Now, all he needed to do was to inform the authorities about the cache of guns that would likely be planted in the house.

Of course, he could also be rather sneaky about it. He then pulled out his cell phone, coughed, and then called the SFPD. Speaking in an American accent, he said, "Yeah, hi, I'd like to report a domestic disturbance....yeah, this is 345 Sycamore. Yeah. Some bitch just went nuts and shit. Yeah. I mean, she's flipping out with her friends, and it looks like it's gonna get violent."

Then, seeing that Marciela was waving was likely one of the planted guns in a state of panic, he then said, "Yup. Looks like it will be violent. Thank you. Bye."

---------------

"Jesus.....what the fuck!?"

Marciela placed the M1911A1, stained with Big's blood, onto the table. Muttering, "Fuckfuckfuckfuck!" as she walked away from it facepalming, she said, "We gotta get rid of this. SFPD finds this...we're all gonna die. As it is, they're already gonna ask me about what happened at the shop...."

"Want us to burn those docs too?"

"Shit, they're no--"

A loud knocking could then be heard.

"POLICE! Open up! We just wanna talk!"

Marciela then ran up to the front, and motioned for one of her people to hide the gun. Opening it up, two policemen said, "We recieved a domestic disturbance call?"

"Nothing's wrong....sir....why?" Marciela said nervously.

"Well, miss, here in San Francisco we take such things seriuously. Now, let's go and see what's up."

The policemen opened the door, and let themselves in, saying, "Anybody asks, we have probable cause. I mean, why should a wife be afraid of...."

Looking at the room full of ladies, the man said, "....er, I mean, why should friends fight?" The cop next to him said, "You're fine, Jim. Just try to mediate."

As "Jim" tried to mediate, the other one began to walk around, to check for details in the story as he too tried to get the factions to end their presumed quarrel. As Marciela and the others tried to mediate via the cops' aegis, the Other Cop sat down, and then asked, "Mind if I have a drink?"

"Sure," one of the others said. Opening the door to the fridge, there wasn't much but some sodas, and the cop took one. But, as he did so, he noticed something off about the fridge. He saw, for a brief glimpse in the vegetable drawer, something black. Well, he'd get to the bottom of it, and if anyone asked, probable cause was key.

"Ma'am, can I ask you to open up the refrigerator again? I wanted to have some Swiss cheese."

The Woman frowned and said, "Okay....." Suspicious, she stood in front of the refrigerator as she got a slice of cheese. Still, the cop got a glimpse of "it" in the fridge, and he knew what "it" was. It was a gun. And by the looks of it through the frosted glass, it seemed used.

"YOu can also take out the gun from the veg drawer," he said. "I know you're hiding it."

The woman sighed, and took it out. Placing it on the table, he then said, "Not bad, not bad.....you ladies have a tax stamp on this? Also, looks like you need to clean it."

Marciela gulped and tried to take the gun, but the cop said, "No. We're gonna have a little chat about this. And in fact, I'm invoking probable cause. Something tells me this isn't just a quarrel over paying the bills here, ladies." He motioned to Jim and said, "Jimmy, check the house, and call for back up."

Pulling out his own service revolver, he then smiled and said, "Now, start talking. Where did you ladies get this?"

No one answered, predicably.

"Come on ladies, it's fairly obvious that this firearm--which should have been acquired via the very simple route of paying a tax stamp, filling out a few forms and running a check and waiting a week to get any size gun you want--was an accessory to something, be it murder, robbery, or even smuggling without tax."

Marciela replied, "That's a gun I keep for self-defense, I paid the stamp, I have the forms. YOu, however, do not have a warrant."

"First of all, I saw that gun stashed in the vegetable drawer--highly suspect, considering that I was called her on a domestic disturbance call and all I've been hearing from you ladies are evasive stories being told to my partner here. For all I know, you could have stashed the damn thing when you were about to get physical--which, if true, makes me wonder why you'd even stash it in the first place, considering that I wasn't necessarily gonna take it from you if all it was gonna take was some mediation unless I had a reason to...like the lack of tax, or use in a crime. In other words, probable cause founded on a lot of shit I've been seeing--and where I come from, that's as good as a warrant."

"Boss, you're not gonna believe this. We have a bonanza!" said Jim, as he ran up to the Other Cop's side.

Marciela stiffened up, and the cop said, "What is it, Jim?"

"Guns! Lots of them! Found a big stash of guns in the basement, stashes everywhere else too. And a few folders of stuff too in the management's home office and tucked away in a desk somewhere. Seems that there's a murder-for-hire scheme here!"

The Other Cop grinned.

"So it was about some bills after all.....you ladies are in SO much trouble."

-------------------

The Mercenary, meanwhile, smiled as he then watched no less than six SFPD squad cars and three Internal Security black cars pull up to the house, to search it up and down and finish what the men started. "Thank God for a liberal interpretation of Probable Cause," the man said, as he giggled. Walking off, he turned a corner and called Daniela, saying simply, "We've hit the jackpot."

Daniela smiled. Mark had done his job, now, she began sending her mercs and fake "eyewitnesses" to snitch on Marciela....and seal her fate.