Chapter 37: Lock, Stock and Barrel
Balalaika walked through the doors of the lounge area and made for the empty seat across from Chang. The other prominent crime lords were already here waiting for her. They had all agreed several days ago to hold a summit at Club Prestige to discuss current events. Much had happened recently and many of the criminal leaders had a lot to get off their chests.
"Miss Balalaika," Chang greeted her. "You're late."
"Why don't you cut her some slack, Mister Chang?" The voice was Ronny's, the leader of the Italian mafia in Roanapur. The sarcasm in his voice was so potent, they could have bottled it up and sold it at the market. "Our Balalaika is a busy woman. Got her hands in a lot of pies, capeesh?"
"You should know a thing or two about sticking your fingers where they don't belong," Balalaika slighted him. Tomaso, Ronny's second-in-command, glared at her with a look of contempt, but Ronny himself remained composed.
"If we're about done with the unpleasantries," Chang interjected, "I'd like to get down to business."
"You're not the only one," agreed Four-Leaf, his hands resting on his shillelagh. "Why don't we get this out of the way so we can get back to our affairs?"
"'Affairs', he says," joked Abrego. "Yes, your mob must be very busy drinking themselves to death in that shithole you call a bar." The man in the flat cap and waistcoat beside Four-Leaf balled his hands into fists and leaned forward, but Four-Leaf placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped him from doing anything he might regret. As tumultuous as the conversation became, all of the criminal leaders here considered the lounge neutral ground for the duration of the meeting and none of them were permitted to bring weapons. Any violence would be punished harshly.
"As I was saying," Chang went on, his patience obviously waning at an alarming rate, "we ought to move this along. We've got a lot to discuss. No doubt you all have some concerns you'd like to get out on the table."
"Sure, we got concerns," Ronny jumped in, his annoyingly high-pitched voice cutting through them like a knife. "Every day of the fucking week, we got concerns. What's this I hear about your new pets, Chang?"
"What ever do you mean?" the Triad's leader asked coyly. He couldn't help but smirk.
"Don't play stupid with us, Chang," Abrego cut in. "We all know you leashed those fucking Interpol dogs. I don't know how you did it, but word on the street is they answer to you, now. What are you planning?!"
"Well, well," Chang began. "I'm impressed. And here I thought I'd kept everything under wraps. Yes, I cut a deal with the 216, and managed to keep them from cracking down on the rest of your operations, I might add. A 'thank you' here and there might be in order."
"'Thank yous' are for when somebody has done me a favour," Four-Leaf replied. "I don't thank the pickpockets in the street for trying to nick my wallet."
"I'd watch my tone if I were you, irlandskiy," Balalaika warned him. "Your spot on the map is precarious enough as it is."
"Perhaps you'd like to turn the clock back to when the Dead Men were at your door," Four-Leaf reminded her. The tension in the air increased considerably when he said that. "We earned our place, and then some. You'd do well not to forget that."
"That's enough," Chang told them sharply. "I can see that emotions are running a little high. Maybe we shouldn't have waited so long to hold another summit like this." Indeed, there had been several situations that would have called for communication and cooperation between the most powerful crime lords in Roanapur during the last couple of years. And yet, the last time all of them had come together like this was during the trouble with the Grey Fox team. Four-Leaf hadn't even been in the city at that time.
"Allow me to put your minds at ease," Chang went on. "The Task Force have been pacified and their mission here is no longer going ahead. And yes, they now also operate under my command. This arrangement was the only way to ensure they would no longer pose a threat to the status quo in Roanapur."
"We are not here to discuss the events of the past," Balalaika interrupted, saving Chang the trouble of deflecting any more accusations that he was playing some kind of a game to acquire more power. They had discussed the events with the 216 privately and she had no interest in questioning his intentions. "There are other issues that require our attention at this moment. You all know of the New Order, I'm sure." Everyone in the room was silent, but that was confirmation enough that they had heard of recent events.
"These are very small fish, Balalaika," Ronny told her. "I'd have thought you'd have more important things to do than worry about these fucking cocksuckers. They been after your guys or something?"
"Not quite," she told him, biting down on her cigar as if trying to distract herself from his grating voice. "But they have been moving about freely in our city. I don't know what it takes to cause a panic back in Italy, but I find that very concerning."
"I'll have to agree with Balalaika," Chang concurred. "Normally, I'd say let these poor fools hash out whatever petty feuds they have with whoever they have them with. Gang rivalries like that don't normally make the seven o'clock news, if you know what I mean. But the New Order are different. It's been months by now since they were first sighted in Roanapur."
"I'm still not seeing the problem," Four-Leaf weighed in.
Chang leaned forward and clasped his hands on the table, the cigarette he had been holding now in his mouth.
"Something reeks of shit, here," he told them all. "And I'm not talking about whatever it is you're drinking, Ronny. Think about it. This infamous New Order we've heard quite a bit about by now might have their own little revenge fantasies to see out here, but that doesn't change the fact that they keep disappearing into the night like Harry Houdini."
"Chang is right," Balalaika told them in an attempt to convince them this was bigger than it seemed. "Rival gang lords brutalise one another in the streets on a weekly basis, that's no secret. But they do their killing like the rest of us and they make no bones about it. These rats have been impossible to pin down. Which means…"
"Which means someone is helping them get around," Chang explained. "Someone who knows how to avoid being seen." All of them went on edge and started to look at one another as they realised why they were all really here this evening. They hadn't been called to discuss a common threat, they were here so they could figure out which one of them was helping the New Order under the nose of the rest of them. There was a traitor in their ranks. As Chang and Balalaika had said, in any other situation the New Order would not be an issue and they would be allowed to go about their business once they didn't step on any toes. But if one of the leading criminals of the city was helping them, and making a point of hiding this from the others, it was extremely likely there was a shift in the balance of power on the horizon.
"Hey, Balalaika," Ronny piped up after an extended silence. "You must have a few screws loose if you think it's me helping these crazy bastards move around."
"Actually, I had my sights set elsewhere," she assured him. "Alejandro is Colombian, and a former member of the cartel. Who better to assist him than his countrymen?"
Abrego hadn't said much during the meeting since the New Order had come up in conversation, but he looked poised to deny these accusations tooth and nail, now.
"Oye amigos, you're fucking crazy!" he exclaimed. "Maybe your memory doesn't work so good, but Alejandro ran a-fucking-way, dios mio! He's a dead man walking, the bosses back home want his head on a spike."
"I'm afraid I'll have to side with our sweaty Colombian friend, here," Chang said. "What reason would he have for helping a deserter? He might as well have Gustavo draw and quarter him before sending his remains back to South America. It would be an easier way to die."
"On any other day, I wouldn't argue with you," Balalaika told him. "Earlier this afternoon, I received a call from Lagoon Company. It seems they were the victim of a rather ferocious attack. An attack, they claim, was executed with the help of the cartel."
"Bullshit!" Abrego roared.
"Vehicles imported from back home armed with turrets, extra cartel enforcers in the streets, Abrego himself spotted frequenting establishments he so famously despises…such trivial information, but it all makes sense now."
Abrego stood to leave, as did Gustavo. Each of the criminal bosses were accompanied by two or three of their subordinates and all of them came to attention now. The crime lords themselves became nervous, too, as the situation threatened to break down.
"Sit down, Abrego," Chang said defiantly. "You're in an awful rush for someone who's got nothing to hide."
"I don't have to sit here and listen to this!" the Colombian spat.
"You're playing a very dangerous game, Abrego," Balalaika warned him. "Alejandro lead the attack on Lagoon Company earlier today, with a convoy of Colombian artillery at his back. You must have contacted your people in South America and asked them to send you reinforcements for a turf war of some sort. It would have been a ruse at first, a lie to convince your superiors to send you more people and equipment, but all those extra men would come in handy when you eventually did turn your sights on the rest of us. I don't know what kind of deal you cut with Alejandro, but it seems you saw fit to loan him some equipment so he could take the fight to Two-Hands of Lagoon Company. After that…you planned to seize power in Roanapur." Abrego was still standing, but he had become nervous and was fumbling with the bolo tie tucked under his shirt collar as Balalaika spoke. While the others in the room did not have sufficient information to work with, they were all looking at the Colombian man, waiting for him to deny the accusations. But there was no denial. He knew he had been caught.
"You're fucking loca, Fry-Face," he mumbled.
"Comrade-Sergeant," Balalaika said suddenly. "If you wouldn't mind doing the honours."
"Gladly, Kapitan." Boris walked over and grabbed the back of Abrego's shirt collar before launching a heavy punch into his stomach. Everyone in the room shot up out of their seats, all except for Balalaika herself.
"You crazy Ivan bitch!" Ronny shrieked. "What's the matter with you?!"
"This is highly irregular, Miss Balalaika," Chang concurred, maintaining his composure even in this situation. The others had to wonder what it would take for him to actually panic. "You know the rules. There is no violence here, we come on good faith."
"We're long passed formality, Chang," Balalaika told him, coming to her feet and taking the cigar in between her fingers. "This Colombian dog thought to elevate his position by striking a deal with Alejandro and his turncoat followers. If there's one thing I hate more than dishonesty…it's spineless, two-faced snakes."
Boris dragged Abrego into the adjacent room while the others all looked on in horror. Gustavo noticeably refused to intervene, despite the fact that his boss was the one at risk of being killed. He knew his place, it seemed, and would not do anything to upset Hotel Moscow, even if that meant standing idly by and watching as the current head of the Colombian cartel was beaten. The cartel's enforcers looked to him for guidance, but he waved his hand to instruct them to stand down.
"You've lost your marbles, Balalaika!" Four-Leaf told her.
"Don't worry," she replied. "You're new to this, so let me give you some advice; keep your appetite for power in check. You don't want to end up like Abrego, now, do you?" She confidently followed Boris into the other room, where Abrego had been placed on a small chair. Boris had obviously beaten him some more in the last few seconds. The others all looked on flabbergasted, but they, too, joined the others in the adjacent room so they could hear whatever explanation the Colombian man had to offer, if any.
"I'm guessing you never thought you'd see your life flash before your eyes in this city," Balalaika said sinisterly. She bent down and blew cigar smoke in his face. "Tell me what you see. All those wasted years going by in an instant all over again? It really must be something."
"You're one crazy bitch," Abrego growled. "You all know she's crazy! Put the rabid Russian dog out of her fucking misery before she barks up the wrong fucking tree!"
"Last chance," Balalaika told him as the other crime lords and their respective second-in-commands gathered around the seated Abrego. Balalaika stood up straight and popped the cigar back in her mouth. "You'll only make it worse for yourself, you piece of shit, so why not save us all the trouble and come clean?"
"Alright, alright," Abrego conceded. He turned to the side and spat to get rid of some of the blood in his mouth. It landed beside Ronny's foot and the Italian man pulled a face, more upset by the prospect of having his expensive leather shoes ruined than the revelation that Abrego had deceived them all. "You want the truth, Fry-Face? You and your filthy fucking Russian lapdogs have been walking all over the rest of us for too long. After you destroyed our headquarters in Venezuela three years ago, there was a lot of talk about revenge. But the bosses were scared to fucking piss in their own homes after what you did, so they let sleeping dogs lie."
"So you promised you could take the fight to Hotel Moscow," Chang said, putting the pieces together in his head. "Retaliation for what they did in Venezuela. A revenge story three years in the making. But what does Alejandro have to do with all this?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Balalaika asked gleefully. "He thought if he could give the New Order free reign to lay waste to my people, it would absolve him of any suspicion. Then, when the time was right, he would go in for the kill. It was quite the plan, in all honesty. But it's a pity you'll never see it come to fruition."
Boris took a step aside and Balalaika went to take his place behind Abrego.
"What fucking bullshit!" the Colombian man roared. "You think you can just walk all over us, you filthy Russian bitch?! You and your friends are going to get-!" His words were cut off abruptly and replaced by a high-pitched squeal. While he had been talking, Balalaika grabbed the back of his bolo tie and started to twist, choking him. In a few minutes, he would be dead, and Gustavo-who was standing by obediently for fear of meeting the same fate-would take over the Colombian cartel.