Please don't bite…
"All right ya'll," said Strike in a very stern, harsh voice. He had called a meeting with the Straight Kings at one of their underground hideouts. Everyone was as still as a painting, hanging on to his every word. This was their leader and they had hellified respect for him. Strike gave them much respect and demanded it back; if he heard so much as a stomach growling during a meeting, he would single the person out, feed them (food is a post-meeting treat), and proceed to kick the person's ass in front of the others. (Hey, most people learn best by example).
"I'm gonna be away on business for a couple of days, maybe a week or two, tops. I'll be venturing to Osaka, and just in case I need back up, be on stand-by. Just 'cause I'm gone, I don't want no slacking, a'ight? Ya'll need to maintain the operations at the docks in South Kogane. Ya'll know I can see everything, so don't fuck up!!" said Strike, pacing back and forth amidst the circle of his "family". "If any problems come up, handle it on your own! I know I've instilled something into your thick-ass skulls! DO NOT contact me unless it's an emergency. If I rush back to Tokyo on some bullshit, somebody dies!! Do I make myself clear?"
"HAI!" responded all the gang members.
"Good. Peace… I'm out," ended Strike, proceeding to light a blunt and walked away.
Outside Heat was sitting on the hood of his Acura, taking deep hits from his blunt. He didn't like to sit in on too many of Strike's meetings. Being around too many of those cutthroat individuals made him uneasy. Even though the Kings were also like a second family for him, he only trusted Strike. Besides, he really wasn't too keen on being up in all of Strike's business like that.
His concentration was broken when he sensed the presence of someone approaching. He looked over his shoulder to see a tall figure carrying a suitcase.
"You know, sometimes I hate it when you insist on staying outside during my meetings," said Strike, motioning for Heat to open the trunk so he could set his suitcase in it.
"Don't be that way," said Heat, slowly getting off the hood. "I feel like I have certain boundaries. Sometimes I don't wanna know who you're planning on killing beforehand. I'd rather just be surprised, just like in the movies."
"You have an interesting way of putting things…" frowned Strike. "Shit, you know our hideouts are like a second home for you…"
"Yeah… thanks…." said Heat, closing his trunk. "So you ready to holler at Hamm?"
"Yeah," said Strike, "let's make this shit quick. I'm eager to get to Osaka."
Thus the next journey began…
At the Burger Dog, Hamm was getting his dance on at the jukebox. His favorite song, "I luv hamburgers" was playing loudly. The restaurant was packed and conversations were lively. A handful of people were on the dance floor, moving and grooving.
Strike and Heat walked in, and upon seeing them, everybody shut up immediately.
"Carry on," said Strike, waving his hand casually, "I'm not here to kill anybody tonight."
Conversations started back.
"What's goin' on, Strike?" said Hamm warmly as he gave his boy some dap.
"Ain't nuttin', man," replied Strike. "Just wanted to come by and holla at ya for a second. Heard you got a little present for me."
"Oh yeah! And I gotta tell ya, it's very, very, very, very, very, VERY, very good," said Hamm, smiling from ear to ear and secretly handing Strike a rather fat Ziploc bag.
"Oh, shit…. I can smell it through the bag, baby!" cheesed Strike, quoting a line from his favorite movie. (Half-Baked, for those who are unaware…)
"Hey, I know you're gonna need some more grub after that," said Hamm, walking behind the counter. He talked to one of his employees and they immediately left, then came back with five large heaping bags of food.
"Diiiii-amn," said Heat, "you must be manager now or somethin'."
"Yeah…. two days ago," said Hamm.
"Well well, lookie who's comin' up in the world after 5 years," grinned Strike. "We're gonna celebrate when I get back!"
"A'ight. Thanks," glowed Hamm. "Bring me a souvenir!" He never bothered to ask questions. Strike wouldn't have had it any other way.
11 PM, Heat's Private Jet…
"We could've driven to Osaka, you know," said Heat. He was high as a kite and busy slaughtering a bag of Burger Dog and other assorted snacks.
"Yeah, we could. But I'm in a hurry. I like to start on my work immediately, you know," mused Strike, smoking yet another blunt, his 11th that night. "I have a lot of work to do back in Tokyo… and time is a luxury I can't afford."
"So what exactly do you have to do?"
"A li'l bit of e'ything, including my favorite… torture…" purred Strike. He turned up a large bottle of OE.
"Ooh… can I help?" Heat's face lit up.
"Oh, hell YEAH!" laughed Strike, Cold-Stone Steve Austin style. "I know you haven't got your char on in quite a minute, and we'll really be in the mood for Cajun soon…"
Upon arrival to one of Osaka's smaller airports, a rental car was already waiting for the two.
Twenty minutes later, they checked into a small hotel room and Strike immediately took to the roof on his cell phone.
"Hello? Yeah. I'm here. I'll be ready to start on this shit soon. Do you have my money?*" asked Strike. (*Japanese)
"Yes… I will be more than happy to deliver it to you," responded the voice on the other end.
"When do you want to meet me?"
"When the job has been finished…"
"…FUCK THAT. As many jobs as I've done for you and you're still comin' off on me with this fuck shit?!? Joke or no joke, have you forgotten who the fuck you're dealing with?! I know where you live. I know where you work. I know what school your kid goes to. I know where your wife goes to get her hair done. I know when and where you play golf every Saturday. And I also know about your mistresses. I'm sure your wife would be outraged if she found out you're fucking your secretary… Need I continue?" Strike's voice was dripping with violent and malicious intent. Anger rested on his face like it was a second home.
"… Very well... I'll have one of my men deliver it to you. Where are you?" The discomfort in the person's voice was painfully obvious.
"I'll meet them behind the furniture store… the usual spot. 30 minutes," growled Strike, "I've been very nice to you this far. DON'T get on my bad side… not now." He disconnected the call without so much as a goodbye.
When Strike got back to the room, Heat was on his hands and knees in front of the microwave, watching intently as a bag of popcorn spun around, weed smoke heavy on the air. A little drool dangled from his bottom lip, eagerly anticipating the buttery goodness.
Strike leaned against the door, trying to maintain his composure. What he wouldn't do for a camera right now.
"'Ey, Li'l Droolie," said Strike.
"Hunh?" Heat looked up at him.
"I, uh… need to go handle some business right quick," said Strike, carefully. "I'll be back in an hour."
"Need some help?" drawled Heat. Strike couldn't tell whether his eyes were opened or closed.
"Oh… uh…. Naw… I'll be back. Enjoy your popcorn," said Strike, and left quickly.
Strike's journey through the intricate sewer system came in handy, as usual. He'd gotten blueprints from a "friend" when he started frequenting Osaka on business. He would never drive to meet people who were delivering money to him; he didn't want to risk being followed. Sure, it was unpleasant, but it's always better to be safe than sorry.
He waited behind the furniture store for 10 minutes before a man dressed in a long black trench coat arrived with a large metal briefcase. The man handed it to him, and Strike immediately tried to open it to make sure the money was there…
"Hey! Why in the hell is this shit locked?" frowned Strike.
"You get the keys when the job is done," replied the man.
"Is this some kind of fucking joke?!" Strike yelled, clearly outraged.
"I'm only delivering the message…" The man was obviously growing afraid, trembling at the frightening volume of Strike's voice.
Strike threw the briefcase down and clutched the man's neck tightly. He pulled out a Chrome Desert Eagle and shoved the barrel painfully into the man's temple. "You know, your boss ain't never pulled no fuck shit like this before. I'm supposed to believe he's trippin' on me now?!"
"I'm just doing my job!!"
"Fuck your job! I couldn't give a fuck less about you. Now you either come up off the keys or I'll just search your lifeless body for them!"
"I don't have the keys, man, I SWEAR!"
Strike detected the smell of fresh piss and looked down at the man's pant leg. There was a trail of wetness seeping down…
"Muthafucka," he snarled, shoving the man to the ground, returning to English. "You tell your boss he's gonna hear about this. Believe that." He snatched up the briefcase and disappeared into the shadows.
Back in the hotel room, Strike was seething with anger. Even in all his years of lock picking, he couldn't get the briefcase open.
The bare aura of Strike's anger was so great that it blew Heat's high. He'd considered putting Fire power to the briefcase, but if it worked, the risk of burning the money was too great. Not only that, the metal it was made of was unlike anything either of them had seen. Heat didn't think that an adverse reaction was worth it.
"So what are you gonna do about this, essa?" asked Heat, still eating.
"Whadda you think?" fumed Strike, with a (Oh So Sexy!!!!) sneering grin seeping onto his face. He was sitting in an armchair with his arms crossed, his whole posture spelled 'I'm pissed'. The briefcase was sitting on a coffee table with Heat's laptop, and Heat was in an armchair across from Strike, surrounded by a circle of food.
Heat knew the implication of the look. "Man, what are you cooking up over there? Are you still gonna go through with the job?"
"Oh, yes… I'm gonna do this fuckin' job, alright. But now… I have a little side project to work on. This man has never pulled a stunt like this with me before. And by time I get through wit' him, I'm gonna make sure he never does it AGAIN."
I hope you all like this… Really! Please let me know! Oh, BTW, I'm aware that the Japanese don't have actual swear words (like the ones Strike abuses so much), but you can ascertain a lot from the tone of voice. Please review and make me smile!^_^.