It hadn't been long before Balalaika's men had come back from scouting. The reports were... Strange, but not surprising. The city, called Vale, was a sprawling metropolis, as it seemed, reaching areas yet unknown to Hotel Moscow. They were in some form of leisure district, going by the fact that the first thing her men had spotted was a restaurant, followed by several clubs.
Asking around until morning seemed to have lead Hotel Moscow to one specific club, though. A terrifying sight appeared on the streets at midday that day. Clad in full combat loads, their weapons slung on their backs, several dozen Soviet soldiers marched toward one specific underground-esque Club within the confines of the city of Vale. With a cigarette between her lips and a smile worth millions, their seeming leader held onto what looked to be a khaki jacket that bore the markings of an officer, as well as the red star emblazoned on one of the breast pockets.
She held it draped over her left shoulder with one hand, the other firmly grasping the grip of what seemed to be a sidearm. The Police only had a pair of officers present on the scene to watch the unfolding gathering. The men behind the blonde-haired female officer marched in step, humming a tune to maintain the cadenced march. They turned toward an old, abandoned industrial building from the old day's of Vale's expansion.
Ten men stopped at the door, holding position with their rifles now slung off their backs. Guards meant to keep anyone from intruding. Several of them moved farther back or set up heavier weapons from the looks of things. One of the Police officers looked to his buddy and asked, "Ya think we should, uh... Call this one in? Looks like they're goin' into the Xiongs' place."
"No. Remember our policy. No shooting means we're just watching it," The female cop replied, arms crossed to her chest, "Much as I fucking hate it..."
... Balalaika and her men walked down a series of old steps into the basement of the unassuming, seemingly abandoned building. Entering through a massive bulkhead at the bottom, however, they found the building to be anything but abandoned, its massive central hall housing a dance floor, decorations and such that looked straight out of an early '80s American Disco. And the tunes playing as the patrons gently danced were surprisingly soothing. The only things that were less soothing were the bullets holes marking some of the pillars and the door they'd come through. Balalaika made a note to ask about that.
The Guards of the place, men and women clad in black and red suits with bowler hats, stepped up to greet Balalaika and her men. One of them, a blonde woman with a spider tattoo on her hand, spoke, "Boss already said we should bring y'all to the back rooms," her accent heavily Southern American. So Texan or something, Bala thought. She continued, "He, his son and your two boys are waitin' there."
"By all means," Balalaika offered, smiling. They were about to step forward, but the Guards tensed.
The spider tattoo girl shook her head, arranging her suit on her slim frame, then said, "Only you and your Sergeant. We ain't here to play games. Four on four chat, you, him and your boys and us, the boss and his kid... Your boys can enjoy a complimentary drink or a dance if they wanna, though," and she flashed a grin. Cocky little bastard, this one, Balalaika thought.
Boris was inches short of speaking up, but Balalaika moved her arm to stop him. She smiled and told the girl, "If you and your boss try anything... This entire building comes crumbling down with you all in it, just as a good thing to know..." before pointing at the two men with anti-tank launchers in the back. RPG tubes with loaded basic warheads. The suited bodyguard narrowed her eyes behind her scarlet glasses, then sighed and nodded.
"No foul. Boss agreed to talk with y'all for a reason," She told them, then tilted her head, "Come along."
Balalaika, meanwhile, turned back to her men and ordered in clear-cut Russian, "Scatter around the floor in teams of two. Make sure we have the numbers advantage against his guards if things go sour. We have the superior firepower already," with a grin. "Davai!" She then barked. Boots clicked and, wordlessly, the men saluted and scattered in pairs around the establishment. She looked to Boris and said, "This should be fun..."
The man remained his stoic self, simply giving a nod to his boss as she turned on her heel and marched to follow little miss Spider and the other guard that would be joining them. Boris sighed, then followed, too, making sure his AKS-74u was loaded and ready to be unfolded, just in case the situation would turn ever more sour. As they entered the backroom areas, they found several booths with leather seats, lamps hanging above them and posters behind them. Sat at the one farthest back were Menshov and Sakharov, both men seemingly chatting. Untouched whiskey glasses sat on the table beside an ash tray.
The Spider Girl stopped beside a man with greying black hair, clad in a black vest, white shirt, red tie and black pants. His Asian features, like the almond eyes, were in full display. To the point Balalaika had almost made a slightly racially-charged quip about Chiang, but the man was absent. The girl whispered something to the man, who cocked his head back with the most 'resting bitch' of faces, then stood to his feet and approached Balalaika.
He towered about a head over her, but neither she, nor Boris(Who was around the man's height) cowered. Her smile simply grew as she said, "You must be Hei Xiong."
With a nod, the man replied in a gruff voice, "Senior. And you're... 'Balalaika'. These two men's captain."
"I am," She replied, then offered a hand to shake. The man looked at it for a moment as Balalaika shifted her cigarette to the opposite corner of her mouth, just so he wouldn't smell it. He nodded, then gripped and shook it, noting she was trying to play up as an equal of his. He turned and extended his hand toward the booth, Bala replying with a smile and stating, "My thanks for hearing us out."
"Business proposals mean more money for the place and for my son's school fund," He shot back. Balalaika let out a short laugh at the quip. Menshov and Sakharov got out of the booth, hands gripping the handguards of their rifles and keeping them pointed at the floor as they did so. Balalaika and the Sergeant scooted on in, with the blonde officer of the VDV Spetsnaz group noting the young man beside Senior Xiong.
Balalaika noted they were in a bit of a micro-Cold War now. Two guards of the Xiong family, whom she saw had visible guns poking out of their coats, versus two of their own with Kalashes at the ready. She didn't know what Senior Xiong or his son were packing, but it wasn't like she wanted to find out. They'd been through one helluva gunfight today and she wasn't fancying a second.
"Let's get straight to business, then," Balalaika started, "If you wish."
"By all means," Senior replied with a seemingly characteristic calm. His son, beside him, watched the exchange, probably here to learn how to do this kind of transactional action later on in life. Senior hummed and noted the stare his son had, then lifted a hand to show Balalaika, "One second, please. Son? Anything you wish to add to this conversation right now?"
"No..." The boy hummed, "I'm just a little surprised at how armed they are."
"We come from a very dangerous place, young man," Balalaika chuckled, "If you don't have any capability of self-defense there, you are dead... Much like it is in the outer areas of your Kingdoms, where the Law doesn't reach quite so well," and she turned her gaze back to Senior Xiong. She leaned back after putting out her current cig, then pulled out another one and asked, "Mind?" only to get a shake of the head from Xiong. She nodded, lit the cig and took a deep drag from it before staring, "Shall we get to business, then?"
"Yes," Senior Xiong answered, "I understand from your men that you all require a place to stay. A base of operations of sorts."
"Indeed," Balalaika replied, flicking some ash onto the tray gracefully, "We're very new to Vale. You could even say we arrived yesterday from our own little place of seclusion after it was destroyed..." and despite the anger bubbling up in her chest at the thought, she didn't show much of a change of emotions, holding that same cocky smile that she did when she entered. She continued, "Rather obviously, I and my men are still alive."
"I see," Xiong replied, then leaned forward, fingers interlaced on the table, "What can your men do, then? What would open me up to allowing you to stay in my club and operate from here?"
"We can offer more hired guns," Balalaika replied, then leaned forward as well, one hand wrapped around her waist and acting as support for the other, which held the cigarette. She blew the smoke down to avoid hitting either Xiong in the face, then added, "I have three platoons of well-trained and well-equipped veterans, armed with some of the finest implements of war available. We could prove to be quite a bolstering factor to your little party of..." she looked over to Spider Girl and chuckled, "Well... More 'stealthy' operatives."
The Spider frowned, gritting her teeth, but Senior Xiong hummed, seemingly thinking over the proposal. He told Bala, "Interesting thought... We did just recently lose about two dozen men to a rival gang's attempt to take this place. I'm sure you saw the bullet holes when you came in..." before leaning back into his chair, "One of my son's best friends died in that firefight."
Balalaika grinned. A nice little opportunity. She told him, "I'm going to hazard a guess you want that little gang dealt with, no?" which made the man pause. He nodded and Balalaika pressed on, "Then I have a proposal. I'm sure you'd like to see a demonstration of how I and my men operate. It'd be in your interest to know you hired skilled troops... And in ours to have a place to stay. So, let's call this a trial run. We'll kill the svoloch who hit your place. In exchange?"
"... I hire you as additional security to replace the losses," Xiong scratched his chin, "And if you fail?"
"You can throw us to the wind," She chuckled, "If we fail, it means we lost men. Something I won't let happen."
Play a little game. Risk some to gain a lot more. A steady temporary salary and a place to start their operations up from would give them a good base of power. And if possible, being inside Xiong's ranks meant she could easily take control of the operation in his son's stead, should Senior come down with a bad case of dying, though Balalaika wasn't gonna be the one to pull the trigger on that one. Instead, she raised a brow and asked, "What do you say, mister Xiong?" as she extended her hand, "We have a deal?"
The man almost looked at her hand like he was about to shake a deal with the Devil. Not exactly wrong, Bala thought proudly, but it was still better than a second raid wiping them out and leaving nothing. She could use the man for information and gain new targets to further expand their own business later down the line. And Xiong knew this was how it would work.
He nodded, then took Balalaika's hand and shook it, "Alright... The idiots are on Third Street, in an old laundromat's second floor. Good luck."
Balalaika's grin grew dangerous and Xiong's staff suddenly felt chills shoot up her spine. She told them, "Many thanks, but pray for your foes, not for us..." before standing up. She and her guards walked past Spider Girl, who sighed deeply and rubbed her eyes. This was gonna be easy, Balalaika thought. An easy takeover for Hotel Moscow's more experienced troops.
She looked to the Sergeant and said, "Prepare a scout team and have our usual breachers at the ready with a Saiga-12 and short Kalashes. I want to know every inch of that building before we go in. Worker rotation, guards, possible security detail and even the cheap cigarette brand the men inside are smoking. Nab a worker and ask them about it if you can. Make sure they don't see you."
"Tak Toychna, tavarisch Kapitan," He, Menshov and Sakharov replied. Entering the dance floor again, Balalaika lifted her hand, then brought it down. The soldiers rallied up with her at the bar, where she ordered a Vodka and started briefing the men of their plan to get hired and get a nice place to stay while they build up power. Hotel Moscow was rebirthed onto this place for a reason. They needed a way to ensure they could accomplish their mission.
Still, the fucking fact they were dealing with immortals, people with soul shielding and magical powers was a bit of a twist for them. They were going to adapt, though, damn everything else. They had guns, they had each-other and that was all that they'd even needed in order to form Hotel Moscow in Thailand. As Balalaika took a sip from the Vodka and nearly choked, she looked at the clear liquid in her glass, then sighed, a little disappointed.
They'd need to get Xiong to change the alcohol provider, at least. That was some of the cheapest, most acetone-tasting Vodka she'd ever had. Small, baby steps to making the place their own, she thought to herself, then set the glass down and continued briefing her men. All the while, Xiong and his guards stared on, part scared by the number of men present, part impressed that a girl like Balalaika could command the respect of so many men. Part of him wondered what she had them by the balls with and worried he'd become the same. Another part thought that maybe, just maybe, this was gonna be a good investment for Junior later on in his life. It was one hell of an operation in the making. 'Hotel Moscow' huh?
Moscow Calling...