"So Alex, please explain to us in detail about everything you did in Texas."

"We didn't go to Texas after Canada."

"Look, we don't give a shit about Russia. We want to know how you found Ms. Lebanovich."

"It doesn't matter. Siku died."

"Actually, she's alive Alex."

Texas, southern part of

Fishing dock on the coast of Texas

Yuri was upset. Securing a fucking deal, rebuilding his organization, managing income and making sure imports were on time and shipments weren't lost, it weighed heavily on Yuri.

But his boys, his team, he officially dubbed them his Chernyye mal'chiki, his black boys. Or they also went by Black team, which was stupid. Another tame they were given by the Chinese was Crimson Dragon. In the night, they unleashed their fire (shot the shit out of) upon the world (killed a poor fucker who decided to be dumb) and their fire (gunshots) illuminated their bodies, the dark red casting upon them (something a Chinese person would know how to fucking translate).

On such an occasion, Yuri and his black boys were securing the port of whatever for their drug operation. Claimed they were using it for fishing. Except, there was one small problem. Ms. Lebanovich owned the fucking dock... and she hired some gang bangers to guard it.

But they weren't terrifying. Sure they were armed with pistols, but Yuri had a pistol... and his boys had machine pistols. What is a machine pistol? Think of an assault rifle, but as a pistol.

As they rode in the SUV, heading towards the docks, they were going to meet Ms. Lebanovich. Why didn't she expect them? Well, sending emails and going by a different identity, not to mention offering offering forty million for a crap dock would hook anyone.

So as they made their way there, Yuri sighs heavily, smoke exhaling from his nostrils. He held his cigarette in front of him, but his attention was to Iosef.

"When we get there, let me speak. I'd rather keep the suka on edge, keeping our element of surprise."

Iosef nods his head and says, "And we'll just smoke and shit..."

And he hears Alex laugh. "What's so funny you fuck?"

"Oh, nothing comrade, just been-"

"Stop saying comrade you fuck!"

Yuri sighs and says, "Comrades, shut up. We have shit to do."

Three hours, forty five minutes, and fifteen seconds. That's how long the drive was. But when they made it, they saw Siku... Ms. Lebanovich in her usual black dress, along with two thugs.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

So when they stopped in front of the port, the spot where Siku and her boys were waiting, Yuri simply says, "Shut the fuck up. Don't even speak unless she asks your name. But be smart, don't give your real name up, got it?"

They simply nod, not really caring as they put their shades on, opening the doors and stepping out of the SUV. Yuri gets out and, closing the door behind him, he approaches Siku and says, "Ms. Lebanovich, we are here to-"

"I know why you're here. Show me the money and I'll give you the port."

"Ms. Lebanovich, first you have to show us the deed. No deed, no money."

Siku growls before taking out a roll of paper from... anyways, she hands it to Yuri and says, "There's your deed, now hand me the cash."

Yuri grabs the case from Alex before handing it to her, the light glinting off of his glasses. "As you can see, we have given exactly everything you asked."

Siku, as she stares at the money, she says, "Thank you, the port is yours, have a nice day."

"You're lying."

"Oh really? How so?"

"When we investigated the port, there were bullet holes all over, plus the blood splattered over the walls. You didn't buy the port, you killed everyone there, asshole."

"Band-aids don't fix bullet holes, you say sorry just for show..."

"You are a twisted shit. And don't sing Taylor Swift during an interrogation."

"Ha, interrogation, you couldn't interrogate squirrel into giving up nuts."

"Listen, Alex, you need to work with-"

"Alex is dead. My name is Ivan you fuck. You keep calling me Alex, I keep correcting, my name is Ivan, you keep getting wrong. I want to see you burn!"

"And how do you propose on doing that?"

"There's c4 underneath us, it's been counting down for days now. You have, oh I don't know, ten seconds left... nine... eight..."

"Ivan, you can't be serious. Is this all some fucking joke?"

"Three... two... one... boom..."

Exit prologue

First Person Point of View

The Crimson Dragon, or simply the Red Dragons, thanks to our Chinese comrades, which we've also been called the Black Dragon, but we couldn't use that since Mortal Kombat had that. Don't want to get sued for stealing franchise shit... okay, bad joke.

Anyways, there was four of them, deadly killers who didn't know how to show mercy. Well, times have changed. That team of four sure worked when no one was smart enough to shoot a gun, but that was back then. Now, every fuck who can scratch his balls can work a gun.

Oh, you're probably wondering who the fuck I am and why my sentences are absolutely perfect. Well, I'm not Russian. And I'm not Ukrainian either... nor am I Bulgarian.

I'm going to talk about Black... or the Red Dragons... or the Hammer of Nikolai... or the Sickle of Boris... stupid ass names. There's seven of us, four you've somewhat know about, but I'll introduce them again, except I'll actually give you some fucking information about them.

The creator, Yuri, does not count. He's a fucking prick so fuck him. And whatever information you heard before about Black, forget it. It's horse shit. What I am saying now is highly important so remember it well.

Vladimir- Vladimir was born in Volgograd. At the age of twenty, he killed someone. Stabbed the guy in the neck with a broken piece of glass. He spent a few good years in prison. At the age of twenty seven, he somehow got into gambling, worked up a debt, now he's in the fucking mafia. Idiot.

Iosef... Joseph- Joseph was born in Moscow. At the age of fifteen, he stole a car. I don't know how... but he did. Anyways, he didn't even get caught. At the age of nineteen, he joined a private military firm. He was deployed in Afghanistan for some reason. The mafia liked him because he was brutal so they invited him to the family.

Victor- Victor is a former sniper for the Russian military. He was born in some rural town that probably ends with ichy or grad. He was a hunter. At the age of twenty, he got his first kill when he was deployed in Georgia. He soon left after breaking his leg, to which the mafia pretty much bought his ass.

Alex- Alex was born, not in Russia, but in England. He was working for a local crime syndicate at the age of twenty... he killed a lot of people...only once has he told us how many he killed. But that's redundant, being he kills people for the mafia now. They call him Aleksandr, but he never argues... he's very strange. He likes to read... I get along with him better than the others.

And now, the three new bloods. That includes me you fucks.

Adam- Born in Hawaii, this son of a bitch is a true killer. He's killed sharks with a fucking knife, tortured people for cash, raped three girls, and dragged three girls to prostitution. He's a fucker and I am sick of him. 'Oh, where you from?' 'Honolulu eh.' He's a douchebag.

Ivan- Ivan is... well... the fuck is dead. Moving on.

Lee- Born in China, though he says Hong Kong, he worked for some Chinese crime lord. Well, shit got out of hand, Lee was shot, but the Russians found him and liked him. Or maybe it was because he used knives a lot...

Then there's me. My name is... well... Bob... no, I'm kidding. That would be dumb as hell. Three fucking Russians, an Englishman, an American, and a Chinese fuck... then a Canadian named Bob. What the fuck? Anyways, my name is Jack. I'm a fox... both literally and with the ladies. I was born in Toronto... I used to do construction, I know how to build bombs, I like to destroy shit... oh, you probably want to get into the story then. Asshole.

Okay, I'll give you guys a break from reading, just for a bit. Then you can continue on. Wouldn't want to bore you to death... pricks.