Money Money

Howard Connection was perhaps the only publicly traded company whose headquarters were in the literal slums of a city. It'd been a great point of contention among Howard Connection's legitimate business partners. However, despite their complaints, Geese Howard was obstinate. HCon's headquarters - oftentimes affectionately named 'Geese Tower' insisted they would maintain their executive building between a violent homeless camp and a meth-house. Their 'official' reason was they were proving their ability as a security company, and could comfortably defend themselves from any undesirables. Their unofficial reason was they had an uncanny number of drug lords, arms traffickers and high profile money launderers gracing their hallways to negotiate deals with the American underworld. The last thing those esteemed guests appreciated was a police station next door.

It hadn't always been like this.

Five years ago, nearly all illicit trade of any volume was processed top-to-bottom by the NESTS Cartel. As a result, there was no room for small players to take a bite of the pie. NESTS didn't even need to kill anyone. They simply starved their competition out of existence.

But the moment NESTS fell, factions splintered and suddenly there was a mad scramble to occupy market share. It took two years for Geese to establish his dominance over the North American Territory (with the help of his psychopath brother-in-law). Likewise his neighbors down south were similarly organizing themselves, although they had more time - as Nest's collapse began in Brazil and radiated outwards. Eventually all the cards had shuffled out, all the documents were signed, and North and South America were united in their own illegal version of NAFTA. The agreement - and corresponding peace - was three years old, and this dead CIA agent was threatening to bust it apart.

Because the US Government was bearing down on you was amongst the worst possible things for this sort of business. It was imperative that HCon sweep this under the rug as soon as they could. If news of this got out, not only would he be in trouble with the law - but it was very likely he'd find himself boycotted by his business partners.

And that's was why, when Billy Kane got a call from SouthTown's police department indicating they had found evidence of a murder in the Boss's main import warehouse - he called for an emergency meeting with Geese and their operation's manager, Mr. Big.

The three men sat around the table and stared down the Police representative Billy had brought in. The air was filled with tension, and there was no noise save the low drone of the cityscape and a car alarm sounding in the distance. The Officer cleared his throat and clasped his hands behind his back - doing his best to make steady eye-contact and hide his nervousness. His voice came out nasally.

"- almost certain there was at least one murder, although we're uncertain who the victim was… We have no DNA trace 'cause the place had been washed in ammonia, but there was cocaine powder in the building insulation, and the location has long been suspected as Gees-... your primary warehouse. Sir."

A long silence. Bad news, to say the least - and this man wasn't lying. Nobody lied to Geese Howard, especially if they were being paid 200 grand a year for nothing - and especially if Geese Howard knew where your kids went to school.

Billy adjusted his cuff-links and tapped his iconic staff against the conference table. He gave the Officer the most severe stink-eye he could muster and spat out the question like a threat. Big rolled his eyes beneath his sunglasses.

"Ha! Victim is uncertain, sure. But what's the word goin' round? Who ya think the John Doe is?"

Hesitation. The officer shuffled his feet and scratched his nose. After a long silence, he shrugged.

"Some rumor through the grapevine. CIA Agent may've been involved. We got a call from way up top. Nothing past that."

Suddenly the air turned sour. This time, Mr. Big spoke up.

"The Department? What are they saying about the case? You know better than to chase us. We send your department six million dollars a year, and this is what it buys? Don't fuck with me."

The officer glanced at Mr. Big. He was obviously nervous, but was doing his best to remain calm.

"Sir. Believe me, I know. But we have a new Sheriff. He's some cowboy from Texas, and he's made it his life's purpose to take down HCon. You know SouthTown Police doesn't want to tangle with your organization, but we need to follow orders. I'll be sure to personally inform you every step of the way - but I'm not at liberty to stop the investigation. Only the Sheriff can do that."

Big huffed and was about to say something more when Geese growled something under his breath. The room went silent as they waited for the kingpin's verdict.

Geese Howard was a well controlled man. His emotions never ran away with him, and that consistency and reliability made him a key business partner and master negotiator. Recently, his policy had been relatively peaceful - but despite the lack of violence, he was well feared and respected. As far as SouthTown was concerned, Geese Howard's authority - although less legitimate - was as good as the Mayor's. When he wanted something done, it got fucking done.

So when he spoke, ears were peeled.

"Big. We're getting rid of that Sheriff. Get me on the phone with the Mayor."

Mr. Big stood and left the room to carry out orders.

"Billy. Burn down that fucking warehouse. I want you to oversee the whole thing. You can even call Yagami to melt that building down for you - Kagura owes me a favor. I don't care. I want no trace of that place, and no trace back to us. Understood?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good. Everyone Dismissed."

The plot thickenms