oooh fun

They'd killed some rats.

Some miscellaneous enemy of the gang, caught snooping around the back corners of the chief shipping warehouse. Doubtless with recording devices and cameras - in an attempt to collect evidence to bust Geese Howard's long standing rule of the underworld. Of course, Howard Connection employees would never tolerate any interlopers in their operation. They were loyal men, who eagerly and ruthlessly defended the honour of their boss and his organization.

So while they pulled their monthly shipment of Columbian cocaine from within a truck full of mattresses, they had their eyes peeled for any prying eyes.

There.

A glint in the corner. The reflection off a camera lens.

Firearms discharged. The smell of gunpowder hung in the air, and the two rats were dragged out from their corner to mocked and spit upon. It was all vicious celebration until they began searching the bodies looking for valuables. Lenny took the skinny one's golden watch. Gumbo had seized the blonde one's leather wallet.

When he lifted it in his hand, he'd been terribly excited. It was weighty. Filled with cash? Hopefully. But it seemed just a bit too heavy for that. Regardless, he flipped open the impeccably cared for leather. Whatever he saw there caused his expression to freeze. He stared down at it, motionless.

'And even if it's fake - I don't give a shit, okay? I got it for fucking free. Fuck off Henry. It's a good find and you're just jealous.'

'Yeah, sure man. Go pawn it off and buy a real one - hahaha~ Oy, Gumbo what've we got?'

'Gumbo? Hey man. Are we going out for drinks or what?'

Lenny, who was busy defending the legitimacy of his new Rolex, wandered over, eager to see what sort of haul the rats had brought in. Normally when they killed someone trying to infiltrate the gang, all that person's possessions were free for the taking. That was a gang rule - and typically Lenny's division spent whatever 'rat money' they got their hands on at the local pub.

"Hey - Gumbo? What's wrong?"

Gumbo didn't reply. He simply turned around, and held up what he believed was the blond man's 'wallet'. It wasn't a wallet. It was a case. A case for a badge.

The badge of a CIA agent.

SPECIAL AGENT

US CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE AGENCY

INTERNAL AFFAIRS

KEVIN RIAN

It glimmered in the shoddy lamplight, that CIA badge. It was the poison in the rat, and they had eaten it right up. Killing a police officer was bad enough. Usually a gang had to go underground for a month or two before the case blew over and attention was focused elsewhere. As such, Geese had demanded that they be exceedingly careful when interacting with police. It was better to get arrested, or shed millions of dollars in bribes, then kill somebody in the ST Police department. Howard Connection could probably take on ST in an all out war. He had shown his power numerous times, and as a result they had reached a sort of tentative brinksmanship with the police. They just didn't bother each other, but Geese Howard knew they were looking for any excuse to come after him.

And this might just be it.

A dead CIA agent.

They had just killed a CIA agent. A man who came from the Feds. A man with the backing of the American political machine behind him. A person who was part of that Agency, who didn't take kindly to people killing their own. They'd call in the fucking army to kill you. South Town Police - paid off or otherwise - would be fast on their heels, ready to shoot you in the head and laugh. Once the Feds came down on you, you might as well dig your own grave, because as expansive as Geese Howard's network was, and no matter how many lawyers he had on payroll - there was no matching the might of the Federal machine.

And Lenny's crew knew that. The gaiety was gone. Everyone wore an expression of deep worry. Dread settled in the hearts of every man standing in that room, because they knew they had just stirred the beast.

After a long moment of heavy silence, Lenny spoke up. He turned toward his crew. His voice was quiet and deadly serious.

"Sweep for witnesses. Don't leave a stone unturned."

Twenty men picked up their rifles and filed out of the building.

"Gumbo… get me on the phone with the boss."

"Yes Sir."

Can we do a chapter a day? Let's see