23. America – A Horse With No Name

"And this is our final party trick." I said to my lone, bald, and Asian audience, who dutifully relayed word for word what I just said and explained what he was seeing to his boss on the other side of the phone call in rapid-fire Cantonese…or something.

"The driver," here I motioned to one of my men, who sat behind the wheel of a modified taxi, "protected by a reinforced divider presses the cigarette lighter," which was his cue to do just that, "and as you can see," here I closed the passenger door and opened the right back door, "the goods for the customer drop out of the bottom of the passenger seat, easily within reach of the person in the back, who then pays his fare and leaves like a regular passenger."

Two weeks Ekin Tzu had let me stew before he finally arranged this meeting on the parking lot of the Gotham Airport Hotel. On one hand, we had more than enough time to modify our fleet of taxis, which we intended to steadily increase in size to cover more ground, and to actually get our men used to the procedures of a dealer and a proper taxi driver. On the other hand, those two weeks had made me antsy.

Two weeks of absolute silence on all fronts, nothing from my new business partner, and nothing from the East End, not even a call for a hit. It had gotten me worried.

Watching the modifications getting done on the cars according to my ideas, which, sad to say, I was still a little bit proud of were the only thing that had kept me entertained for the first couple of days.

A magnet attached to the driver's key looking like a cheap company pendant would unlock a hidden spring either under the bench in the back or in the floor under the trunk, which in turn would open the lids just enough for the person to get a proper grip and open it without fuss. No visible latches, grips, strings, or anything that would hint at anything illicit.

I had taken up quarter in an unused office of our workshop, which had made my daily commute north to my apartment superfluous. I had even set up a little gym area, with used equipment and machines, where I could push myself to the brink of exhaustion whenever the restlessness became too much, which was more often than not.

That had been just the first week. By the second week, I had one of my tech-savvy guys remove the limiter on the treadmill and had to reinforce my second bunching bag.

Two fucking weeks I had watched my men work and trained like a loon because I had decided for myself, that I would stay put so as not to risk the possibility of getting tangled up in something crazy while my first business hadn't even started yet.

And yet, I still had too much time to think…to second-guess myself. Yes, I was part-owner of a business now, yes, I would have a steady income now, yes, I had men at my disposal. But these revelations only made me see the true perspective, the gap to the big players.

Even my own family acted in spheres I only now began to truly understand.

Bookmaking, loansharking, and extortion. Dozens of businesses, clubs and bars, garbage disposal, and so on. The way operations regularly changed hands between the Five Families according to some backroom dealings was further proof of the staggering web that existed beneath the surface.

Regrets and doubt.

Truth be told, I wasn't just in my gym whenever I felt restless. More and more…feelings of regret began to surface, and whenever this was the case, I worked myself to the point where I was just too damn tired to further think about it. I just couldn't let these thoughts distract me.

Particularly now, face to face with the representative of Mr. Tzu, who just nodded his head to whatever his boss just said to him on the phone, while I tried to wait patiently for a conclusion to this little presentation.

I stood straight when the man, whose name was still a mystery, finally put the phone away and turned his blank gaze on me.

"You will hear from us in a week." He said matter-of-factly and I couldn't help but stare dumbly when he turned and simply walked to his car.

I exhaled from my nose and watched the retreating figure with rising agitation. What have I gotten myself into?

What did I leave behind?

Did I just throw away a run on the fast lane in a decently sized organization and instead steered myself into a dead-end?

I had proven myself as a valuable pawn with brawn in spades. Now I had to prove that I had the brains, too.

And that little tidbit got me scared shitless.

I wasn't stupid, but I could easily admit, that I wasn't some scheming genius, that could worm his way to the top and manage it from there. I had the sinking feeling, that at some point I would simply lose track of stuff, get overwhelmed by multiple issues that would force me to multitask, and little by little things would start to crumble around me.

Fuck…what exactly did I actually archive? Was my deal regarding the most disgusting business of my family still intact, or was it buried like my chances of ever going back on my actions?

I reckoned I would get at least some answers by the end of next week when the next 30k was due for Tomasso.

"That's the fourth time I see you, buddy." I mumbled under my breath; eyes still glued to the cheap binoculars.

It had been a day after my meeting at the Airport Hotel when I finally broke and went out again. A desperate effort not to get insane and to actually make some progress in my 'master plan'.

Full steam ahead, go big or go home, or whatever the hell I had told myself at the time to get back on track.

And that's how I had started to go looking for the Shan Triad, to confirm their known spots, to find their potential routes and hideouts.

Necessary prep work, since I knew, that I was going to take them out as soon as Mr. Tzu gave me the green light. A step closer to full control of Gotham's Chinatown and its nearby dock area.

Incidentally, I was also taking note of individuals, that seemed to be some way up in the hierarchy. People, that would be of interest when it was time to act, people, that might squeal essential information when in our custody.

People, like the guy I was currently observing. A man, whose whole appearance might be best described as a weird mix of 'smart-casual' and oily child predator, washed-out jeans and jacket with a pudgy face and slicked back black hair, that failed to hide the bald spot.

Despite his less than intimidating outfit, the men around him always acted with the utmost deference, even going so far as to hold up doors, given the one time I managed to follow them to a back entrance of a dry cleaner in Chinatown.

The Shan Triad… hadn't been exactly hiding this week, in fact, they were blatantly obvious in their dealing to everybody who knew where to look or had the network like my Dockyard Dogs.

No doubt, with the King Snake and his second-in-command gone and open season on his remaining Ghost Dragons, the power vacuum left behind was eager to be filled again and the Shan Triad answered the call without hesitation.

That something was going on today was therefore no surprise. All-day the streets around this particular dock were swarming with members, the fact, that they were here was no surprise given that it was their spot for the bigger shipments, but the sheer volume of men seemingly patrolling the area spoke of something bigger.

The freighter flying under the flag of Laos, a country of the Golden Triangle, that's been docking here since morning was another bell ringing through our community and the reason why I was currently crouched on a three-story warehouse in my new and probably most favored outfit for my nightly outings.

Old black motorcycle pants from a thrift shop, a thick toasty black sweater under my trusty body armor, all topped off by my forest green balaclava. A single machete and three knives on my back coupled with my revolver in a holster at my side covered the offensive.

Gone was the elaborate outfit with the protective but unwieldy helmet, gone were the thoughts about doing my stunts in a snazzy suit (for now).

Cheap, forgettable, and somewhat pragmatic but also most importantly easily replaceable. You could only scrub so much blood out of your leather jacket before it became tiresome.

The lack of helmet…, well if someone actually got me in the head and I bite the dust,…that just meant no more worries, right? To be honest, actual visibility and hearing were a nice bonus, too.

Talking about visibility, the buddy in my sights was uncharacteristically nervous, given the way he hovered in front of the gangway leading up to the freighter and kept on checking his reflection in their car's window.

"Who's on…"

tap..tap..tap..tap..tap

I had barely lowered the binoculars and turned before my vision was blocked by something silvery.

Next…

Pain exploded in a shower of stars, and I felt something give on the left side of my face.

Only by the thinnest threads of consciousness did I feel myself launched from my crouched position until a disorientating weightlessness threatened to compete with my agony.

The feeling, however, only flickered for a couple of heartbeats as my pain was only replaced with even more pain from my right thigh accompanied by a dull metallic crunch.

The impact from whatever I fell on gave me a brief moment of vertigo as the sheer force neatly flipped me over.

"Urgh…" I wheezed out after what felt like an eternity as my body finally came to a rest and my right undamaged eye could start giving me hints on what the hell just happened.

I fell…no

I got hit by… something…and fell off the roof into what looked like a service alley between the warehouse I was on only seconds ago and another one.

cough

Groaning in agony as the cough shook my head, I didn't even dare to touch my face as it was surely a pure mess.

I blinked and my gaze slid over a big dumpster with a noticeable indention on one side, which probably marked the spot of my unfortunate landing and the reason for my wrecked leg.

Breathing through my mouth as blood clocked the pulp that was once my nose my gaze slid further and up the warehouse…when I had to squint with my good eye.

'Monkey?!'

I hit my head, that was a hallucination…a hallucination that just jumped from the roof to a ledge on the other warehouse from where it descended further until it eventually landed in the alley nearby.

My gaze unblinkingly on the grinning…silver…monkey.

A costume, my addled brain dimly supplied.

"Still alive." The figure stated with a heavy Asian accent as he confidently drew closer until he finally crouched threateningly above my broken form.

"Good." His hand unhurriedly reached down for my mask. "Tell…"

I had aimed for the throat…

I got him with the vicious sucker punch somewhere around the ear, I reckoned.

The reaction was instant…and unpleasant as he crumpled like a puppet without strings…

Right on top of me.

I couldn't help but groan as a fresh wave of pain rippled through me as his shoulder landed right on my face and flattened my nose even further.

Blinking through new tears my hands blindly reached up until I found a proper grip on his chin and the back of his head.

No more surprises tonight.