Black Market Merchant

“How do you suggest we engage the Mad Dogs shooting the windows? Plan F is a rather broad plan.” Stitches asked as she and Steel Fist got off from riding on the elevator cables using their automatic rope climbers. “I know what I would do, but why not hear your thoughts?”

“I’m surprised you even asked me, Stitches.” Steel Fist mused. “I’d suggest that we hit them from three angles at once. Your forces will spread out on the topmost floors or rooves of the block in between them and us along with half of my forces. Those from my men attacking from the rooves will start first and drop a little gift down for the Mad Dogs to pick up.”

“What kind of gift?” Stitches asked looking at him sideways curiously.

“Where’s the suspense in telling you right away?” Steel Fist retorted slyly. “Then once they get the gift, the rest of you will start shooting at anyone in the open. That is where I and the other half of my forces will come into the picture. Normally I attack using a streetlight pole, as you already know, but last month I found a new useful tool to use.”

“A new tool?” Stitches laughed. “Since when did you find anything new? We have picked clean every street, building and trash pile in downtown.”

“I didn’t find it here, but when Bone Flayer tried that little stunt of his and attacking the Mad Dogs during that annoying peace time, I found an armored truck. The kind of truck that delivers money to banks or ATMs.” Steel Fist revealed giving a grin. “Naturally, it was powerless and burned from the inside out, however, the back doors were still on it.”

“Don’t tell me you are going to be using it as a shield or something idiotic as that.” Stitches answered rolling her eyes.

“Awe, was it that obvious?” Steel Fist said in mock pity.

“Yes, it was obvious. Yet I’ll agree to your plan.” Stitches replied as they arrived at the backside of the building. “I can see how what you have in mind will work, especially with how few and spread out they are.”

As the two of them looked up and back at the building they say that all the windows on this side had already been busted out long ago by an aerial bombing. All that remained was the rusty window frames, wall insulation and scattered electrical wiring from the building’s infrastructure. Stilling on, dangling out of or near by the windows was the entirety of their two forces. Every one of the Finger’s and Feet were armed, loaded and ready to go. Each one was freshly painted and looking quite blood thirsty, so much in fact that they could be mistaken for some cannibal tribe!

Steel Fist took a huge gulp of air and shouted so forcefully that his voice reverberated off the buildings like a foghorn, “Get up you lazy piles of crap! Let’s go kill some stray dogs!”

…

The Mad Dogs from boat three were being led by Rile, a lanky, pale man that despite his looks was nearly as crafty as Xander but more inclined to fight. He had been steadily working his way up in the ranks of the gang only to get surpassed by Ernest. This fact irritated him to no end.

“This is my chance to shine.” Rile thought as he loaded a clip into his rifle. He had already wasted two clips into the windows already, but he was no where near running out. “All I need to do is get his lousy group to take out a bunch of Skull or maybe beat a Hand before Ernest can even lift a finger. Then the boss will see how I should be a lieutenant and not that kid.”

He was just about to enter the next intersection and like the ones before, this one was empty. Though it was the same, something felt off to him, but he couldn’t quite figure out what. At this moment half of the boat three gangsters had already gone through the intersection and he was traveling along with the middle of the group.

Then something caught his eye. Falling from the sky, reflecting alongside the windows, were dozens of fist sized balls. When they landed with a metallic ping and rolled into the street, it was then Rile knew what they were, grenades! However, it was too late for him to warn the others. They had fallen into a trap!

By what he saw unfold next, made him glad he wasn’t leading the way.

“BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!”

The street was instantly filled with smoke, shrapnel, and screams! Rile and several others threw themselves to the ground or up against the nearby building’s walls. Seconds later, before anyone could react to the explosions, gun fire erupted in a brilliant barrage of death from above.

Those that were alive from the blasts and staggering about, dulled by the noise and shock of the grenades, were soon riddled full of bloody holes and ripped limbs. Some tried to run but there was nowhere to go! The streets were perfectly clean. There was not one trash can, car, pole or even a street sign to hide behind. Even if they were trying to cling to the building’s sides in a desperate plea to find cover, bullets from the opposite building would rain down on them through the grenade smoke.

“What the H***!” Rile shouted as he grabbed at a dead man lying in front of him. Rile pushed the body up and tried using it as a shield. A bullet tore its way through the dead body and ricocheted off the butt of his own rile.

“Alright, screw this!” Rile shouted as he rolled over and aimed his gun at the corner display window nearest to him in the intersection.

Pulling the trigger, he blew out the entire window. Then without a word he ran, crouching low for the opening. Bullets whizzed past and around him, but he kept going and leapt through window to smash into a mannequin. Breathing heavily, he tossed off the mannequin and crawled further inside. His gambit worked and for now, he was safe.

Turning to the window he shouted for the others that might still be alive to make a break for it. Most of the nearby Mad Dogs still alive heard and saw what he had done already and were practically spilling through the window after him. At his calls, a few others from across the street saw his escape plan and did likewise. They busted out the closest windows with either their guns stocks or by shotting them.

There was one man, however, that was so disoriented and distraught that he tried running across the street towards Rile instead of the building next to him. Rile shouted and waved at the idiot to turn back, all to no avail. The man made it halfway before a bullet ended him, piercing right through his skull.

“How many of us are in here!?” Rile shouted in disgust looking away from the dead man bleeding on the road. He then glanced urgently around the dark lit room looking at the few men now with him.

“Help… me…” Someone called from the window.

Looking that way, Rile saw a wounded man crawling through the shattered glass of the display floor. Snarling agitatedly, Rile dashed out and grabbed the back of the mans shirt and dragged him into the building, only to be barely missed by a series of bullets.

“I said how many are there of us left?” Rile shouted.

“Uh, t-there is like, thirty of us in here.” Someone stammered back.

“Good. That will do for now.” Rile answered trying to calm himself. Despite the situation, Rile was a rather levelheaded man and wouldn’t let a few bullets muddle his mind. “Now here is what we do next…”

Rile started issuing orders for a few men to get up on the sides of the window they came through and try spotting where the shooters were at. Then for others to break the windows further back along the way they came and try finding anyone else still trapped on the streets. He told those remaining and a few that were wounded, to start clearing the room of everything. The room was full of shelves and faded advertising signs, and they had to start pushing them towards the windows after they confirmed no one was still outside.

“And then you two.” Rile lastly added looking at two blond, younger gangsters. “Go to the back and try to find the stairs. We need to probably fight back on equal floor levels if we want to get out of this. Hurry!”

“Rile!” Someone called behind him.

“What?” Rile shouted as he spun around to look at one man pointing out of the display window and down the street.

“What are we going to do about that!?”

Rile looked ahead in the street to see a wall of metal had appeared and was now marching in a line formation towards them. At its center was someone he knew and dreaded to see. Steel Fist!

…

Ernest’s cautious side immediately perked up as he heard the distant reverberations of gunfire coming at them through the empty city streets. It wasn’t like before when the gangsters were shooting out windows. This was warfare gunfire; quick, rapid, and numerous.

“Hurry it up guys and keep your eyes peeled for anything that looks suspicious. We don’t want to get flanked and get surrounded.” Ernest called out to those around him. “Get two guys to run ahead and see what happening!”

Everyone was on alert now as they marched urgently towards the sound of battle. They all were marching in near single file along the buildings rather than the open streets. All eyes were transfixed ahead and above of them. Then some movement caught their attention in the street ahead.

“Hold fire!” Ernest shouted as he saw a few men raising their guns. “That looks like one of our guys!”

Sure enough, an unarmed man that looked to still be in his teens, was running at them and waving his skinny tattooed arms overhead. As he got closer the tattooed teen gangster plodded to a stop and breathing heavily, he revealed what was going on ahead.

“An a-ambushed! Lots of explosions. They are on the rooves shooting at us. I-I was about to run back here, because there was no cover for us to find, when I saw a bunch of Skull appear in the road. They were carrying what look like metal shields or car doors, it was hard to tell.”

“Did you see who was leading them?” Ernest asked jogging up to the teen.

“Some big, tall guy with some kind of feathered hat?” The tattooed teen answered sitting on the ground to catch his breath.

“Feathered hat?” Ernest murmured in thought. Then a smile crept back onto his face. “Steel Fist, you came back for another round against me. This isn’t your normal area that you patrol, meaning there is likely more than one Hand here.” Quickly, he turned around and called out to those still coming up the road from behind him. “Go ahead and start burning a small part of the dock. Just enough to get the smoke rising.”

“Are you sure?” A man carrying a can of gas in one hand and a sniper styled gun in the other. “We haven’t confirmed yet that there’s three Hands here.”

Ernest stepped towards the man and looking at him uncomfortably close in the eye, took the gas can from his hand and spoke in a low, intimidating voice, “Then how about you start climbing that building right there and scope out the area ahead and confirm it for me. Hmm?”

“Y-yes s-air!” The man gulped and started running for a rickety looking fire escape that led to the roof’s top.

Ernest tossed the can to a nearby gang member and laughed as he watched the man running. “Everyone make sure you are loaded. Things are about to get exciting!”