We have a brand new story today, one that's been a long time coming. I had gotten to a place where I wanted to expand and try something different - and I ended up picking a setting/genre and ships that I'm not familiar with and ships I've never written before, so this was a challenging project. Three rewrites and four years later, here we are. The Lion King is one of my favorite Disney movies, and I'm hoping my homage to it does it justice.
Just be aware, this story is different than others I've posted so far. (It's a historical Mafia AU. I went a little darker and grittier with it.) But it should be a good time!
- K. Chandler
The year was X927. The end of the Alvaraz War had ushered in an age of prosperity and new industries. Electricity lit up the nation as the first interstate highways stretched to connect booming cities from one coast to the other.
And a love of drink had become Fiore's the greatest crime.
But Fiore was a land of opportunity, a land of bright lights, dancing, and a roaring party that never ended.
A glass of wine or a flagon of whisky could always be found if you knew where to look. Natsu Dragneel and his business associates—or more correctly, his family—they made it their business to know.
But at the moment, Natsu couldn't even think of drinking. No, siree! Cars were enough of a rattling deathtrap, even without Erza behind the wheel.
A sharp turn threw Natsu across the back seat. "You didn't tell me we'd be driving," he groaned.
"Aw, I thought most fellas would be happy to ride around with a couple of pretty young things," Cana called from the front passenger seat.
"Most fellas haven't had to endure her crazy driving," he muttered.
Erza tucked a loose strand of her short, red hair behind her ear. "Would you have tagged along if I had told you the truth?" she asked, even though they both knew the answer.
Erza had approached him in the speakeasy last night, an eager glint in her eyes.
"Just got a new job," she had said.
"Yeah?" Natsu tilted back on the hind legs of his chair, not wanting to seem too interested. After a moment of rocking and waiting, he let the chair fall forward with a clatter. "You gonna… tell me? Or you just here to torture me?"
Erza grinned. "Suspected Phantomlord activity in Lower Villavista."
Natsu whistled. "They're getting bold! These jokers think they can move in on our turf, huh?"
"We are going to check it out tomorrow. Make sure we have an understanding, see?"
"Aw, you guys get all the fun!" Natsu itched to go. A rival family was way more fun than his weekly visit to the boxing arena. "Teach 'em a lesson for me, eh?"
"You know, you're welcome to come with us if you want," Erza said, almost as if she'd read his mind.
Natsu gave her a lopsided grin. "I don't know… You know, I got a crew of my own now." He jerked his thumb at the table behind him where two of his subordinates were sitting.
Don Makarov had recently promoted him to the rank of Caporegime (or just Capo for short). The past few months had taught Natsu that being in charge of his own crew wasn't all it was cracked up to be. All they ever did was swing by the family's boxing joints and bookie operations to collect their cut of the dough or drop off more of the merchandise. Bor-ing.
"Look who's high and mighty after his promotion," Erza teased. "Shame. I was looking forward to working with you again."
Natsu steepled his fingers, pretending to be pensive. "Well, hold up. If you need an extra person, I'm sure I could spare the time for you."
Romeo and the others could handle the usual rounds. They'd manage fine without him for a night or two.
"Slotting us into your busy day sounds like a tall order." Her voice dipped in a way that would have sounded coy coming from anyone else. "I'm sure the three of us have it covered."
"Aw, Erza. Are you going to make me beg?" Natsu asked. "What time are you leaving?"
Erza tapped her wrist. "Be here at six tomorrow."
When he had arrived at the scheduled time, Erza screeched her fordor to halt next to the curb and all but manhandled him into the car.
As always, she was an absolute bearcat… A loveable one, most days. Just not right now.
Erza sped through Magnolia City traffic, weaving between the narrow lanes. A cacophony of horns blared in their wake.
Natsu shut his eyes, swallowing hard. He hated cars.
Finally, the engine went silent, but it still felt like they were still moving.
Natsu heard the car door open. He opened one eye. Erza had extended a hand to him.
He waved her off, staggering out of the jalopy. "I'm fine. Just need a minute."
Normally, Natsu would get his feet under him as soon as the vehicle came to a standstill. Except when Erza was driving, it took a little bit longer for his stomach to settle.
"Let's go! Gray's waiting." Cana waved at them from up the block. She had a rolled-up newspaper under her arm. The larger papers were the perfect size to hide a Tommy gun in broad daylight.
"Fine. Then, let's get a move on." Erza prodded him in the back, like she just expected him to follow.
Natsu swiped her hand away. "Now, wait just a minute! Who made you the boss?"
Erza crossed her arms over her chest. "My crew, my rules."
Cana laughed, shaking her head. "You two… It's good to have you back, Natsu! The other two won't admit it, but we missed you."
Natsu couldn't help but return her grin as he fell into place. He had missed them too.
They rounded the corner and crossed the street to meet up with Gray. His distinct, white suit made him easy to spot, even in the haze of dusk.
Of course, the average person wouldn't have noticed him at all. A newshound by day, Gray had surveillance down to an art. He probably spent the day pretending to read the morning paper at some café with a good view of the building.
With shops closing up for the night and the streets emptying, Gray waited for them on the sidewalk, hat pulled low over his forehead to obscure his face.
"About time." Gray clapped Natsu on the shoulder and they exchanged greetings.
Erza frowned at the cigarette in Gray's hand. "I liked your newspaper disguise better. Smoking's a filthy habit."
Natsu nudged Erza in the side. "Relax, will ya? It's not even lit."
Gray grinned, tucking the cigarette away. "Come on. You know me better than that, boss. But I guess there was no foolin' Natsu."
"What can I say? The nose knows," Natsu said.
Cana nodded at the clothing store across the way. "Is this the joint?"
"The very same," Gray said.
"What are we waiting for? I say we give 'em the bum's rush and light the place up!" Natsu said, punching his fist to his palm.
"Hold it." Erza grabbed Natsu by the collar. "Not here."
Erza ushered them into a tight alleyway between buildings where they'd be able to talk. A ragged boy scowled at them from a darkened corner. A street urchin? Homeless, by the look of him.
Natsu remembered what that was like. After Igneel left, he survived on his wits and the charity of others.
While this era of industrialization had brought lucrative opportunities for Natsu and his associates, the economic boom didn't shine its hope into all corners of society. Not everyone could take advantage of the business like they had.
The ragged boy balled his fists and shifted his weight to his toes. It was a stance that Natsu knew all too well. He'd picked some poor fights in his time too.
But that was before he found Makarov and the family. He'd been one of the lucky ones.
Gray gave the kid a sympathetic look, starting to usher their group away. "Occupied… C'mon, let's see if there's—"
Natsu held up a hand to stop them. He crouched slightly to be on eye-level with the boy.
"Here." Natsu flipped open his billfold and thumbed out a couple of bills. "Things are about to get ugly, see? And you ain't gonna want to be around for that. So why don'tcha take this and go find somewhere else to sit for the night?"
The boy's eyes widened. He'd probably never seen that much cash in one place. He glanced at Natsu again, his expression guarded. "I wasn't born yesterday, Charlie. You ain't going to pin me for stealing."
"Don't worry, kid. There's no trick here. I'm just paying you give up this spot, that's all."
"You mean it?" The boy sucked in a breath. He snatched away the cash and darted toward the street. He paused as he reached the street, likely realizing just how much Natsu had handed him.
Natsu grinned, waving at him.
"Thank you, mister! You're a saint!" the boy shouted, his grimy face glowing.
"Yeah, yeah, sure. Now, go on. Get outta here, kid," Natsu said. "Scram!"
The boy nodded, darting out of sight.
Gray snickered. "Saint Natsu."
"What? It was just a couple of clams."
"You know he's just going to use that to get a can on, right?" Cana asked. "He's off to buy hootch, he is."
"Just 'cause you're a booze-soaked bum doesn't mean everyone else is," Natsu said, eying the flask Cana had taken out.
Cana took a long swig. "It steadies my hands."
"Then how 'bout you send a bit of that my way?" Gray asked, nodding towards Cana's flask. "I could use a sip myself."
"Sorry, what?" Cana drained her flask with three big gulps. She shook her empty flask next to her ear, heaving a melodramatic sigh. "Why is the hootch always gone…?"
"I don't know why you bother, Gray," Natsu said. "You know Cana never shares."
"Nothing personal, pal. You know I love ya," Cana said with a wide grin. "I just—"
"You just love your hootch more," Gray said.
"It's the one thing in my life I've ever been able to count on," Cana said theatrically.
"So, what's the story with this place?" Natsu asked.
Erza was frowning, her gaze on Sol's. "Rumor has it that Phantomlord is using it as a fence, but that doesn't make sense."
"Are we sure it was Phantomlord?" Cana asked. "Maybe the reports were wrong."
"I saw the fella running the place. Sol. Definitely Phantomlord," Gray said. "And I recognized a couple others. Even if the rest aren't proper made men, they're at least associates. I'm positive."
"Whatever's going on in there, they're up to something." Erza's frown deepened. "Any ideas?"
"This sounds crazy, but…" Gray paused. "I think they're rumrunning."
"Smack in the middle of our turf?" Natsu said. "Even Phantomlord ain't got the stones for that."
"Like hell, they don't! I've been watching that door all afternoon, Natsu. I know what I saw."
Natsu pointed at an old woman who had just come out of the store. She leaned on her cane as she hobbled down the street. "Come on, Gray. Does that look like someone who's here to get blotto?"
"You never know," Cana said flippantly. "My grandma drank 'til the day she died."
"Now we know where you get it from," Gray said.
Erza frowned at two men in suits exiting the building.
"You have that look on your face. What are you thinking?" Natsu asked.
"I want to take a look around," Erza said.
"You and me? Slip in the back. Get introduced," Natsu suggested. He scowled at the knowing grin that passed between Cana and Gray. "I meant, introduced to them, you numbskulls," he clarified.
"That's… not a terrible idea," Erza said.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Natsu huffed.
"It wasn't quite what I had in mind, but it'll do," Erza said. "Gray, Cana—"
"We'll go in around the front. These suckers shouldn't be hard to take out," Cana said.
"No. I don't want them calling for reinforcements," Erza said, shaking her head. "Just give us some cover. Keep them busy long enough for us to poke around."
Gray nodded. "We can manage that."
Cana unfurled her newspaper, slinging out her Tommy gun, clicking the large drum magazine in place. "Party in the front, business in the back! What are we waiting for?"
"For them to actually close." Gray pointed at the little tan placard on the door. "Put that down."
Cana grumbled as Gray forced her to sit.
At long last, the sign in the door flipped over.
Closed.
"That's us," Gray said, drawing his piece. "Let's go."
Cana hoisted her Tommy gun in both hands. "I love the smell of fresh lead in the morning!"
Cana fired first, before they were all the way across the street. Bullets cut across the display windows in front of Sol's, sending a cascade of glass onto the concrete.
A few of the passersby stood to gawk, but most ran. Anyone with half a brain cleared out when Mafia families had scores to settle.
All the better. That meant fewer witnesses, and no innocent people caught up in this.
Erza waved for Natsu to follow. "All right, Natsu. Our turn."
"I'm getting all fired up now!" Natsu said with a grin.
Broken glass crunched under Natsu's shoes as he crossed the now-deserted street. He caught a glimpse of his friends through the damaged storefront. Cana was waving her Tommy gun around, her boisterous voice carrying as she slung insults and taunts. Gray toppled a rack of clothing, sending it to the floor with a with a clatter. The front of the store filled with Phantomlord soldatos, drawn from the back by all the commotion.
With the rival family distracted, Natsu and Erza shuffled around the building towards the back. When they reached the corner, Erza stopped short.
"What's the matter? Everything jake?" Natsu craned to see over her shoulder.
A delivery truck idled behind the building, the rumble of the engine muffled by the rhythm of the gunfire at the front of the store. There was no driver, but Natsu doubted he was far.
Weapon at the ready, Natsu edged towards tail of the delivery truck, ignoring Erza's swipe at his shoulder. They weren't going to learn anything by standing around.
The doors of the truck's cargo area were open. Inside, Natsu found stacks of wooden crates—maybe a dozen or so.
Natsu climbed into the cargo area to take a closer look. This was probably the only time he'd ever voluntarily get into a vehicle.
He lifted the lid on the nearest crate. Glass bottles? Natsu let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. Were they really—
Something prodded Natsu below his left shoulder blade.
"Step away from the merchandise, buddy," growled a voice. "Hands up, back up slowly."
Natsu froze. He swore under his breath, but he did as he was told. He took a step back, then another, his hands raised above his head.
Why hadn't the Phantomlord enforcer shot him yet? Was Natsu more valuable alive then dead? Or maybe this merchandise was fragile enough that the rival mobster didn't want to risk damaging these bottles.
Natsu had a pretty good idea what these bottles contained.
He whirled, drawing his piece. A blur of scarlet streaked by before he could squeeze the trigger.
Erza had Natsu's attacker pinned to the ground.
"Don't even think about it," she hissed, a knife at the man's throat.
"Only you'd bring a knife to a gun-fight…" Natsu muttered. "Are you loony? I could have shot you!"
They both knew it wasn't true. He'd never been fast enough to rival her speed.
Erza wrenched the gun out of her opponent's hand, tossing it aside. "Think carefully. One move and you're finished," she said. "You'll answer my questions?"
The Phantomlord soldato nodded just the tiniest bit. But as soon as Erza eased up to let him speak, the fella started to holler for help.
"Wrong answer." Erza rammed her knife into the fleshy part between the man's neck and chin, silencing him. She sighed, wiping off her blade before she stood. "You know, I really wanted to go easy on him."
"It's probably better than what the Phantomlord Don would do to him. Or what they'd have done to us, for that matter," Natsu said.
"Is that what I think it is?" Erza asked.
Natsu lifted the lid to show her the bottles. Erza stabbed the cork stopper with her knife, prying it out with a twist.
She sniffed at the bottle.
"Well?"
"I think it's hootch."
"I know that."
Erza ran a finger over the paper label glued to the side of the dark glass. "Not your typical top shelf liquor. Recognize the brand?"
Natsu took the bottle from her, holding it up to the waning light. He couldn't see jack. But it certainly smelled like alcohol. Something fruity. Beyond that, he couldn't tell.
Was this some sort of fancy foreign import? Or a special recipe that Phantomlord wanted to corner the market with?
There was only one way to find out.
Natsu took a swig. It was foul, both bitter and sickly sweet at the same time. The flavor was strong, but it lacked burn of good hootch.
"Natsu!" Erza hit him in the arm.
Natsu spat the mouthful back out, shuddering.
"Eugh! That's straight up coffin varnish. Nobody in their right mind would pass it off as top shelf." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Don't look at me like that. I wasn't actually gonna drink it."
"Why would anyone bother selling such poor quality liquor? I doubt it's worth anything. Definitely not worth the risk of getting caught with it."
"Maybe they're getting stiffed," Natsu said. "Middle man siphoning the good stuff and replacing it with this?"
"Maybe," Erza said. "We should get rid of it. Makarov won't want this rotgut floating around on his streets. Can you handle that? I want to take a look around inside."
"Will you be all right by yourself?" Natsu asked.
Erza's mouth twitched in amusement. "Who do you think you're talking to? I'll be just fine."
Natsu went through the crates, smashing every single bottle of the so-called liquor. They couldn't risk this stuff being passed around on their turf, even on accident. It wasn't just bad for business, it was dangerous.
People had gone blind from a batch of bad hootch. Some had even died!
Once every bottle had been smashed, and the truck's cargo area glistened with spilled liquor, Natsu sloshed his way out of the truck and headed inside Sol's. The back entrance opened next to a door with OFFICE painted on the window in block letters.
Erza was silhouetted in the glass as she introduced herself to the proprietor… with her fists.
"You think you can operate on our turf, huh?" Erza boomed, brandishing her knife. "Who do you think you are, you mug?"
Natsu didn't stop to help. When Erza was in bearcat mode, it was best to steer clear. He headed toward the front of the store to see if Gray and Cana needed any help.
He could hear them as he drew nearer, the persistent drumming of Cana's Chicago typewriter broken-up by the occasional shot from Gray. They were shouting to one another, calling back and forth. Natsu couldn't make out what they were saying, but it sounded like they were bantering.
The front of the store was a disaster. Racks had been overturned. Clothes hangers were strewn about. Long johns and ladies' Sunday best littered the floor, bloodied and trampled. The air was thick with smoke and powder.
Despite this, Cana wore a broad grin. "Oh, no you don't!" She fired at the edge of the counter where a pair of Phantomlord soldatos had taken refuge.
Gray had tucked himself in a corner. With a clean, practiced movement, he took his shot, grazing his target across the cheek. He cursed under his breath and adjusted, this time, killing the other man cleanly with a bullet to the brain.
Gray was known for being one of the best shots in the family. Natsu had seen him bump off five guys with five slugs and not a shot wasted. On easy jobs like this, Gray liked to make a game of it to keep things interesting.
Natsu snorted. Show-off. There were plenty of places to put lead into someone that would stop them from moving. Why make things hard? Dead was dead.
"Nice shootin'! How many—eep!" Cana ducked hastily to avoid being hit.
"Worry less about my aim and more theirs," Gray shouted back.
Natsu didn't see any of the Phantomlord higher ups. Plenty of soldatos, but they were average Joe's where Mafia was concerned. These two were going to be just fine.
Gray and Cana may have looked like they were having all the fun, but the real action in a place like this took place in the back, where coppers and G-men weren't as likely to nose around.
Natsu continued his sweep down the hall. He passed an employee bathroom and an unremarkable office supply closet.
The last door opened into some sort of storeroom.
Jackpot!
Racks of dark suits lined the walls. Carousels of dresses, skirts and shirts were littered about the storeroom, waiting to be pushed out onto the shop floor.
Great copper drums lined the wall, tops connected with copper piping. A less experienced person would have assumed he was looking at part of the building's plumbing, but Natsu traced the pipes to a set of oak barrels.
Amid the jungle of clothing, Phantomlord soldatos siphoned liquid from the oak barrels and transferred it to tall, glass bottles. Each bottle was corked at a machine and carefully loaded in a wooden crate, just like the ones he'd seen in the back of the truck outside.
"Come on, get a move on! And don't get none of that grit in there!" The Phantomlord Capo waved at his subordinates. The man had long, two-tone hair pulled back in a ponytail and a black stripe tattooed across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. Natsu only knew him by reputation, but no doubt, this was Capo Totomaru, one of Phantomlord's top dogs.
Phantomlord wasn't just rumrunning. They were operating their own barrelhouse.
Erza needed to know about this.
Natsu shifted, sending a mess of garments and racks clattering to the ground. He froze, cursing under his breath.
Every pair of eyes in the room turned in his direction.
"We've been found!" Totomaru shouted.
What do you think of gangster Natsu? I'm sort of imagining him with a slight New York accent. For the Dubbies out there, that's like Firo from Baccano who shares the same English VA.
Next time, in The Godfather's Heir, things heat up: "Come on, come on!" Natsu fanned the flames as he edged Erza out of the room. He followed, grabbing the remaining bottles of liquor and a wad of papers.
Stop back for the next installment, or just follow me, Karine of R011ingThunder.