Thanks for all the encouragement to continue, you guys are (as Foggy would say) Awesome! :D
Thyncth: I'm still finding my way around with chapter lengths, hopefully there'll be some longer ones ahead to make up for the shorter ones :D
Trifectum: I honestly hadn't even noticed I was doing that. Well spotted, I'll try and keep a watch out on my grammar slips, they're pretty inevitable though ;)
Onwards we go... Still working on that popcorn? Lovely! Small warning for violence to stack next to the previous warning for language. Things will inevitably turn a little grim from here onwards...
"Nature abhors a vacuum, did you know that?"
The street was dark and quiet at this time of night. It was a struggling area of Hell's Kitchen, one that had been discreetly spiralling into decline over the last few years. Lined with bare trees, spindly branches stripped by winter, it looked even more bleak than usual. Just another long grey street hemmed in by a shambling array of grey high storey buildings. It skirted along the edge of the industrial district, sloping down towards the docks, any heyday of prosperity here had faded decades ago. The light snowfall did nothing to hide the occasional boarded up shop-front or the broken glass in the gutter.
Joseph Rafelli nodded idly, only half listening to his brother, his main attention was focused on the oncoming headlights. On scrutinising each of the few cars that drifted by. They were parked in a reasonably public spot, but if things really went south then the number of witnesses here could be relied upon, or forcibly made, to be zero. The few traders that still clung to the street were tough, survivors, learning to look the other way, to keep to themselves. Wasn't a shopkeeper on the block who didn't keep a bat or a gun to hand somewhere under the counter.
You got by here or you got out.
With one broad hand resting on the steering wheel, he kept his eyes focused forward. He was a wary, cautious man, as dark haired and olive skinned as his brother, but there the similarities ended. Of the two he had grown to be the quiet voice of authority, even though he was only two years the elder. He certainly wasn't stupid, he understood the risks they were taking being here tonight. But once in a while, he knew a calculated gamble was worth it for the potential gains that could be made. Especially given the opportunity that was presenting itself right now in Hell's Kitchen.
His brother kept up a low muttered running commentary. "Chop a tree down in the rainforest and there's a mad scramble of plants looking to fill that gap in the canopy. All reaching toward the new scrap of light. Soon enough one of them newcomers reaches above the rest, claiming all that sunlight, growing tall at the expense of the others who just wither back down to nothin'... Natural law ain't it?"
A car ghosted past, not slowing at all, but Joseph still watched it in silence all the way.
"Ain't it?" he felt a tap on his arm, his brother looking for at least a grunt of agreement in response.
Joseph flicked a look across to Anton, the younger man had a twitchy nervousness about him, which suited his wiry frame and thin face. One of life's worriers, a pacing, fretting, live-wire of energy. The polar opposite in most ways to himself. He didn't mind the constant chatter because when it came right down to it, Anton could be trusted, and such absolute loyalty was invaluable.
Anton sighed, an agitated huff of breath. Smoothing his wild curly hair backwards, he stretched out with a suppressed yawn, nodding impatiently over to where Joseph was maintaining his steady gaze.
"You sure they're coming?" he muttered, each word laced with disdain. The question had no real answer, but the tense wait was beginning to fray his nerves.
Joseph nodded once again, more firmly this time. "You know" he rumbled "you can always leave? I can handle this." The words were spoken slowly, with complete conviction, as if each had been weighed and considered before passing his lips. Which, in all likelihood they had.
Anton snorted softly, as if he'd leave his older brother alone to handle this deal. As imposing and resourceful as his brother was, there was no way he'd leave him tonight, not without direct back up. This deal was the chink of light in the proverbial canopy, the chance for their enterprise to steal a share of the sun and grow. Hell's Kitchen was a maelstrom at the moment, no one gang holding power over the rest and the Rafelli's needed to grab this opportunity with both fists.
Joseph watched him a moment, as if he knew exactly what was going through his little brothers head, then smirked silently before turning back to his patient study of the street.
"I'd what... sit in the car like some idiot whilst you go make the deal? Or maybe you think I wanna walk? Jesus... I'd freeze my ass off out there". Anton puffed out a breath, checking the condition of his gun for the fifth time, resigned to the wait. "Russians..." he spat the word out "what've we got in common with them anyway?"
Joseph clenched his hand around the steering wheel, expression suddenly serious, studying the dark 4x4 with tinted windows that had pulled up at the other end of the street. He threw his brother a pointed sidelong look. "We got at least one thing in common... come on... it's them. Alert the others and leave that gun here."
Anton grimaced but obeyed, immediately tucking his gun into the glovebox. Scrambling for his phone, he tapped out a single word.
Showtime...
Yaroslav switched off the ignition, nodding ahead slowly. "Sir? it's them" he glanced to the rear view mirror. There were four men in the large 4x4. Two in the front and two in the back, but he was looking for orders only from the slender man with greying hair sat right behind him.
Lev Gribkov looked up, tilting his head to one side, regarding the grey BMW parked ahead, even now he felt a thrill of apprehension. With a curt nod he motioned for his lieutenant to signal the others out of the car. Empires were not made by hesitating and doubting, they were seized by ambition and action. "Well then" he murmured, "let's see what these imitation mobsters have to say."
Joseph and Anton strode down the street shoulder to shoulder. A carefully contrived stride that spoke of casual confidence and purpose. True they had a handful of men scattered around the street looking on, but if there was an emergency then the actual ability of their men to intervene would be severely limited. They could only hope it wouldn't come to that.
On approaching the 4x4 they were discreetly checked for weapons. Patted down front and back as a precaution by the two guards stationed outside the car. The guards were armed, politely efficient and silent. Only leaning to speak to the driver of the car once they were fully satisfied. A single nod, a hushed conversation in rapid-fired Russian, then the rear door of the car opened out for them like an invitation. They were waved through to sit on two flip down seats, facing a middle-aged man who was peering back at them with a wary curiosity.
They were sat ever so slightly lower, the heavy doors locked around them as soon as they had climbed inside. All subtle little statements, reminders of who was really in charge of this discreet meeting.
"Sit... Sit..." Lev gestured idly over as they settled, exuding an air of calm, as if they were all old friends just meeting for a coffee. "I am hearing interesting things about you both" he smiled, pausing, the implication clear that investigations had been made about them both and found most favourable.
Anton, for once, kept his mouth firmly shut, looking to Joseph to lead the deal. His brother had insisted upon it, made it very clear he would be displeased if his brother screwed things up by running his mouth off. So Joseph was the one to lean forward, dipping his head in wary but polite acknowledgement, taking control of their side of the talk.
"Thank you, I guess we should welcome you the Kitchen huh? I understand your venture is... new?"
"As is yours." Lev smiled, his tone smooth and businesslike. "The Bratva are keen to reinstate a presence here, given our recent losses it is... prudent yes? So maybe, we are not so new, just the changing face of an old institution." Lev gestured lightly to the brothers "you can understand my curiosity at your... evident desire to talk?"
Joseph nodded slowly. It had taken weeks to arrange, to chase down the contacts, to set up the meeting point. But it would all be worth it if the deal worked out. "I have been thinking we could do some business together, a deal that would be mutually beneficial?" He linked his hands together, watching the other man closely for a reaction. Lev merely arched a pale brow in response, motioning for him to proceed.
"Simply put, we have the same thorn in our sides, maybe we might be able come to some agreement on how it could be handled? An agreement which... if seen through successfully, might encourage a continued and prosperous relationship between our" he waved a hand between them, "...respective ventures."
He kept his gaze steady, leaning forward slightly to emphasise his point. "I am thinking maybe we're all growing a little tired of freaks in suits taking the law into their own hands huh? If we were to...eliminate this distraction together, I'd see it as a good foundation stone to build a future working relationship on... don't you?"
Lev nodded thoughtfully, "so why do you not just handle this directly, why are you coming to me today?"
Joseph tilted his head to one side, "way I see it" he spread his hands, "we have the manpower but not the hardware" he looked over with a respectful nod, "and maybe you have the resources but not the manpower, not yet anyway if I understand things right. Between us maybe we can clear the field a little?"
"But why are you coming to us and not... say... the Yakuza?" Lev shrugged lightly. "No doubt they would consider such a deal to be of great interest too?"
"Perhaps, but you hear stories in the Kitchen, especially lately." Joseph shrugged casually, clearly not wishing to voice his reasons further than that.
Lev allowed a small smile, "You think we will just give you access to our weapons and resources because you ask so politely?"
Joseph shook his head slowly, "No... nothing like that. All I am asking for is a little cooperation. Perhaps a sharing of information, of sightings, perhaps some of your men can work alongside ours here and there until we have the devil good and dead."
Lev settled back on the leather seat, regarding the brothers for a long drawn out moment. "I think... maybe... your proposal has merit." He nodded curtly, extending a hand over to Joseph to seal the deal.
Anton grinned to his brother as they climbed back into their own car. "Open season now on those freaks huh? You got some plan on how we do this?"
They pulled smoothly away from the kerb, heading back towards the eastern district of Hell's Kitchen. Street-lights flickered past, lighting up the inside of the car in muted orange flashes. Joseph nodded distractedly as he drove. "Word is..." he stared ahead calmly, "you scream loud enough, someone will hear you in Hell's Kitchen. So... we make 'em scream... see who comes running eh?"
"Once it's done, you think the Russians'll hold to this truce?" Anton leant forward to pull his gun from the glove box, slipping it back into his shoulder holster, feeling comforted by the familiar weight.
"We'll find out... their numbers are weak after the Ranskahovs got blown to shit, they got their own share of rebuilding to do I reckon. So now might be a good time to be seen to be.. helpful. It would be remembered. Whatever... they've got supply chains and contacts that we just don't have." He shrugged thoughtfully, "not yet anyway. So we keep them sweet, use them as a step up into the big leagues. "
Anton huffed a breath, about to agree when his phoned buzzed. Flipping it open he listened a moment before looking over sharply. He placed a hand over the phone as his brother drove, relaying the information. "He's been sighted, thirty-seventh and ninth." Slamming a sharp right, the car accelerated hard in that direction.
With one hand slapped down onto the dashboard for balance, Anton snarled, "we're on our way."
When they arrived at the mouth of the alleyway, one of their men was already down, knocked out cold. A dark dressed man was cornered at the far end, swinging some kind of weapon around holding two others at bay. But only barely, even from here it looked like the guy had taken a mighty beating. His chest heaving and his feet unsteady. Their headlights distracted the vigilante long enough for a lucky punch to knock him to the floor.
"Hey... look at this?" Anton circled the prone man like a hyena. Kicking at the baseball bat that had dropped from his grip. "Since when did the devil wear fucking sports gear?"
The sports armour had been sprayed deep red, a pair of cheap Halloween horns stuck to a baseball helmet to complete the look. Crude... home-made... A wannabe hero who had tried to foil a robbery and damn near succeeded.
Anton kicked the man in the ribs hard, "we ought to pin a note on him, send a message to the others huh?"
Joseph peered at his brother, expression twisting into a rare menacing smile. "You want to leave a message?" He reached over lazily, pulling Anton's gun from the holster, pointing it down toward the prone man.
"No, please... n-no." The man feebly raised an arm, the words nothing more than a croak, blood bubbling at edge of his mouth.
The gun fired twice, blood pooling around him slowly across the snow speckled sidewalk, two shots direct to the heart.
He calmly handed the gun back, before waving his men to clear out.
"There's your message..."