Zheng showed up at Club
CRASS the very next night. His arrival was not without some commotion.
Apparently it was some sort of breach of protocol for him to show up in
whatever territory Phoebe’s minders had claimed for themselves, not even for a
casual visit.
Boar intervened with two
CRASS bouncers before things got too ugly. Michael arrived and informed
Phoebe’s pimps they could allow him to welcome whomever to his club or they
could take themselves and their pet elsewhere.
There was a flash of fear on Phoebe’s face when he made the threat, but
Michael was bluffing. Her pimps backed down.
Michael and Zheng headed
up to his office. Once out of the noise of the dance floor, Zheng spoke. “I now
see some of your interest in Tong affairs. Chonglin and Liang are two of Kun
Yuen’s favorites. Probably because they’ve staked out such prime territory. But
why have all the money little Phoebe makes go to them when it could be yours?”
“A fair bit of that money
has already been mine.” Michael poured a couple glasses of bourbon, cutting his
finger into one, and offering it to Zheng. He took it and drank.
“Ah, I see. If Phoebe was
yours, you’d get her for free.” Zheng paused. “I know you’ve been with my
sister. Does that include her?”
Michael considered his
answer carefully. “That will depend on her. If she seeks my bed of her own
accord, that’s her call. My plan is to give her the choice, something she
doesn’t have right now.”
“No, she doesn’t.” agreed
Zheng.
“You’ve mentioned Kun
Yuen’s name more than once now. I take it he’s the head of the Tong.”
“In name only. Kun Yuen
works for Zao. He’s a smuggler, mostly in human flesh but a fair bit of opium
as well.”
“How far does his
prostitution racket reach? I know he has Chinatown and more than few clubs here
on South Street. Where else?”
“Pretty much all of
downtown. The hotels, the clubs, right under the mayor’s nose. Most of the cops
here are bought off to look the other way. They arrest a few of our street
girls to give the appearance they’re doing their job, but mostly leave our
operations alone.”
“The black girls.” Added
Michael.
“Yeah, they don’t count
for much in the Tong hierarchy.”
“Forty years after Martin
Luther King,” lamented Michael, half-serious half-joking.
“In the underbelly of the
world, that sort of thing doesn’t count for much, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
“I’m curious. Why those
boundaries?”
Zheng gave Michael a
puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
“Why does the Tong not
advance north or further south or to the west?”
“Ah, well you should know
the answer to that. The north belongs to the Ninth and to the Los Angeles and
to other street gangs who run narcotics and prostitution. The old Italian
neighborhoods to the south are the Mob’s turf. And the west, well, that’s a
strange one.”
“How so?”
“No one controls it, that
we can tell. But we’ve tried. Everyone we’ve sent in to establish a foothold
has disappeared. Vanished without a trace. Just like aliens scooped them off
the planet or something. The girls, the pimps, the enforcers, the dealers, all
of them just gone. Word on the street says the mob has the same problem as do
the black and Latino gangs. No one goes west of the Schuylkill and lives long.”
“Strange.” Michael said
aloud. But he already had a theory. The Dark Brotherhood kept its neighborhoods
under a tight leash. “Especially given how rough those neighborhoods are. You’d
think mobsters like yourself would be having a field day.”
Zheng chuckled as if
enjoying a private joke. “We are what the law calls ‘organized crime.’ Over
there, there’s no organization. Just crime.” He paused. “Enough chit-chat. I
want to know how you plan to elevate me and free my sister?”
“I intend to kill Kun
Yuen.”
“Easier said than done. He
doesn’t poke his head out much. But even if you pull it off, there’s Zao to
consider and I’m hardly next in line for the throne.”
“Zao will not be a
problem.” Said Michael confidently. He was banking on the wizard falling to the
Brotherhood once he’d brought the Concilium on board with Michael. That was,
after all, what he feared the most. “As for the others in line, well we’ll just
have to kill them too. I’ve done it before.”
“So you really did just
walk in on the Ninth and slaughter them all.” Said Zheng with awe. “When I
heard the rumor, I didn’t believe it. No one is that good outside of the
movies. And, no offense, but you don’t look all that tough and intimidating.
It’s still hard for me to believe you’re a club owner and a major player here
on South Street. You look more to me like someone who’d be auditioning for N’Sync
than trying to turn Philadelphia’s organized crime cartels on their head.”
“You warned me not to
underestimate Zao. I’m telling you not to underestimate me or my operation.”
“If you want to do what
you did to the Ninth all over again, you’ll need to get the leadership of the
Tong together. That doesn’t happen often out of fear of someone doing precisely
what you’re proposing. We’ll need a reason.”
“I’m going to give you
one.”
“And what will that be?”
“And what will that be?”
“I don’t know yet.” Michael lied. He had already figured out an idea. But he didn’t want to propose anything specific until he knew Zheng was a blood thrall. “I’ll figure something out and I’ll be in touch.”
“This had better be worth my while.” warned Zheng.
---
Zheng and Michael met a second time the following night, giving him a chance to feed him his second taste. The purpose of the meeting was to work together on figuring out an angle they could use to get the Tong leadership together. The meeting was inconclusive, deliberately so, since Michael already knew what he was going to do.
The following night, Michael showed up at the Emperor’s Palace. As he had the first night he’d met Zheng, he summoned him from his guard duties. Once Zheng came outside, Michael offered him a beer, conveniently tainted with his third taste of vampire blood.
“Walk with me.” Michael motioned deeper down the alley.
“I’m growing impatient with your promises and your games, Mr. Allens.” Said Zheng coldly. “You promised an end to Kun Yuen and my family’s dishonor and in three meetings you haven’t offered me anything that will accomplish that.”
“Have faith.” Said Michael flatly. “Drink your beer and let’s take a walk.”
Zheng eyed the beer suspiciously. Michael scooped it back from his hand and took a swig. “Why the hell would I poison you?”
“Because this might be some twisted loyalty test that I’ve clearly failed over the last few nights.”
“You are too paranoid.” He handed the beer back to him.
“Comes with the territory.” Said Zheng. He took a swig. Michael paused for the blood to take hold.
“Is that why you carry such heavy firepower?”
“This?” He gestured to the AKM carbine on his belt. “I suppose so. These are new. Kun Yuen’s orders. He fears our enemies are getting more bold with all the chaos in the city recently.”
“Zao’s cowardice.” Michael mused in his mind. “Where did you get it?” He asked Zheng aloud. “That’s an AKM-74S, a standard issue Russian assault carbine. Not exactly standard street fare even for the Tong.”
“No, there was a recent arms shipment that came into Philadelphia from Russia. Kun Yuen purchased a portion of the shipment. He wanted to make sure the guards for his parlors and his person were well equipped for whatever might happen in the days and weeks to come.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Said Michael eagerly. “You wanted to know what I’m planning. Well, now I think I’ve figured it out. The arms dealer who sold those weapons is a Russian mobster named Konstanin Orlov. He was killed two weeks or so ago in a raid, but his manifests were not recovered. There are government agents who are very interested in knowing where those guns ended up.”
Zheng paused as if to think. “If ATF agents raid Tong operations looking for weapons around the time I’ve been seen in your company, Kun Yuen will think I am the one who sold him out.”
“Precisely.”
“He will have me killed. Not much of a plan.”
“Will he? On so specious a bit of evidence as a series of meetings with a local club owner? One who’s visited your sister numerous times. No, I don’t think so. But he will want to question you. And he will likely gather his leaders to determine a strategy against the Federal agents. For the sake of efficiency, it is likely those two events will be one and the same.”
“So you get to be my rescuer.” Said Zheng. “And Zao? If he questions me using his powers?”
“You will tell him a pale man put you up to it. Can you remember that?”
“I think so.” Zheng’s quick agreement was proof that Michael’s thrall bond had taken hold.
“Good. Because when this happens, it’s going to happen fast.” Warned Michael. “There’s not going to be much time for me to coach you on what to say. All I need from you is a where when the time comes.”
“Alright, I think I can manage that.”
“Good. I’ll let you go. Be ready. This could happen as early as tomorrow.”
“Alright. Let’s do this.” Zheng gave Michael a curt nod and headed back to the brothel.
Michael, in turn, pulled out his flip phone. “Yes, I’d like to speak to Damian Drake please.”
---
Michael’s prediction on it happening quick was spot on. The very next night, Drake arranged for ATF agents to hit three Tong properties in downtown Philadelphia, including the Emperor’s Palace; all fishing for Orlov’s weapons. In all three cases, they found some of them, enough for them to realize Michael’s “anonymous tip” was worth investigating further.
Kun Yuen did not hesitate. The day after the raids, word reached the Tong lord that one of his subordinates had been seen on numerous occasions consorting with a white man. They snatched Zheng from his apartment that afternoon and took him to a secret location to interrogate him. Too sudden and unexpected for Zheng to get his call out to Michael (who would have been asleep midday anyway), it fell to Ai’ma to give Michael the information he needed to find his new ally.
Michael geared up with his usual: katana, Beretta M93, Mac-10. Looking like a cross between Neo from the Matrix and Blade from his movies, Michael hid his arsenal under a long black trench coat. He also added two new items to his gear, a pair of sawed-off double barrel shotguns. Perfect for close-quarters wetwork.
Zheng was being held at the Shanghai Inn, an otherwise nondescript hotel in the center of Chinatown. Owned by the Tongs, it was well equipped for discretion and was frequently used for times when they wanted to keep things out from under prying eyes. Michael drove over in the Falcon, parking it in an alleyway behind the hotel. When he stepped out onto the street from the vehicle, he could hear the not-so-distant sound of flash bangs and breaching shotgun charges. The ATF were busy again tonight.
Michael walked over to the wall and began to climb it like a spider. Zheng would be on the top floor, held in a semi-secret penthouse the Tong’s reserved for their use. The building was tall for Chinatown, probably a good dozen stories. Michael slowly made his way to the top.
As he reached the top floor, he willed the shadows around him to cloak his presence, rendering him invisible to human eyes. He then began to scour the floor for a window he might use. The windows were mirrored, making it nearly impossible for him to see what was going on inside. While a nice artistic effect, it also made spying on the upper floor difficult. Still, Michael hoped the late spring air might encourage someone to leave something open, figuring that no one was crazy enough or capable of attempting entry that way. Sure enough, one of the lounge rooms had an open window wide enough for Michael to squeeze through.
It was not a quiet squeeze, but his powers of obfuscation prevented the four guards present in the room from noticing his entry. They kept to their game of cards, growling at one another in Chinese, making it easy for Michael to make his way behind them. A flash of steel and one strangled cry from one guard was the only sound as Michael dispatched the four before they even knew he was there.
The layout of the upper floor was similar in many ways to the floor where he’d visited Monroe recently: A large lounge area near the elevators and a long corridor that led to a back room. Here, the corridor was not so long and the elevators emptied directly into the lounge as opposed to being in an adjacent area, but it mattered little. Michael returned his katana to its scabbard and headed across the corridor to the main room. He cloaked himself once more and walked inside.
Zheng was tied to a chair at the end of a long table. He’d clearly taken a beating, but Michael’s keen vampire senses could detect he was still breathing, his blood pumping normally. Opposite him at the head of the table was a tall Chinese man in his early 40s, dressed in a suit that was slightly soiled on its sleeves from blood. Kun Yuen clearly liked to do his own dirty work.
Seated at the table were several other Chinese men. All were talking excitedly in their native language. Michael could make out none of it save the English phrase “pale one,” a slight variation on what Michael had instructed Zheng to share, but not an unwelcome one. In fact, Michael found it somewhat more sinister. Zao would get the reference either way; vampires were at the heart of what had happened to his people.
Michael walked over to one of the windows he’d checked earlier and sat down on the sill. Sitting within arms’ reach of the assembled Tongsmen, they never noticed his presence.
As their conversation seemed to lull, Michael stood up and called out with a dramatic flourish, “Gentlemen.” Yeah, it was something he was borrowing from another film, this time the Crow, but using popular tropes had its way of setting the stage for the terror he meant to inflict.
The sudden appearance of a trench coat wearing vampire in their midst shocked the assembled criminals. All spun to face him, several stumbling backwards over their chairs in alarm. Others drew their handguns and pointed the menacingly at Michael.
Of the group, only Kun Yuen seemed unfazed. “So, the pale one appears.” He said in English.
“You have something of mine.”
“You dare to break the truce. Zao will hear of this.”
“Zao’s time has come. The Brotherhood sends its regards.”
Kun Yuen’s eyes grew wide. “Kill him!”
Michael drew the shotguns as Kun Yuen’s order fell on the ears of his subordinates. The reports of a dozen handguns firing at him were drowned out by the echoing boom of the sawed off room-sweepers. One shot took out four Tongsmen, the next three. Michael then dropped the weapons and switched to his katana to mop up the rest.
Kun Yuen made for the door as Michael diced up the rest of the Tong leadership, desperately running from the monster he knew was far superior to even a pack of hardened well-armed human criminals. But the guards outside were already dead and he had nothing to even slow Michael down when he gave chase.
Kun Yuen hammered the elevator button but it simply would not ascend fast enough. Michael moved up behind him. “New management.” He whispered into Kun Yuen’s ear before ramming the katana through his back and out his chest. The Tongsman slumped to the floor.
Michael left the dead Tong leader where he fell and returned to the main room. He untied Zheng and splashed a bit of water on his face to revive him.
“My God, you did it.” Said Zheng when he came to himself. “You really did it.”
“Told you not to underestimate me.”
“You’re hit.” Said Zheng, fingering one of the holes in Michael’s t-shirt.
“It’s nothing.” It was, the wound beneath had already closed.
“You’re one of them. Like Zao with his powers.”
“Something like that. For now, we need to get you out of here. Others will have heard those gunshots.”
“How?”
“With my powers. Grab on.” After Zheng did so, Michael went to the window, opened it, and out he went, leaving a scene of carnage behind him.
---
A rapid knock came at the door of Mitch’s apartment not long after dawn. Mitch was expecting that, although not quite this early. He rubbed his eyes red to give the appearance of sleep and opened it.
Standing outside was Balthazar Murray. “Get dressed. Zao has need of you.”
“You guys kicked me out, remember?” Mitch grumbled through a faked half-awake daze. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Never mind any of that. Just get moving.”
Murray waited impatiently as Mitch got dressed and grabbed a quick iced coffee. Mitch’s theatrical training in college was paying off. He’d been awake all night, awake and ready after Michael told him what had happened at the Shanghai Inn the night before.
“Man, I work at a nightclub.” Grumbled Mitch as he wandered out to Murray’s car. “I just got off work about two hours ago.”
“This had better be worth my while.” warned Zheng.
---
Zheng and Michael met a second time the following night, giving him a chance to feed him his second taste. The purpose of the meeting was to work together on figuring out an angle they could use to get the Tong leadership together. The meeting was inconclusive, deliberately so, since Michael already knew what he was going to do.
The following night, Michael showed up at the Emperor’s Palace. As he had the first night he’d met Zheng, he summoned him from his guard duties. Once Zheng came outside, Michael offered him a beer, conveniently tainted with his third taste of vampire blood.
“Walk with me.” Michael motioned deeper down the alley.
“I’m growing impatient with your promises and your games, Mr. Allens.” Said Zheng coldly. “You promised an end to Kun Yuen and my family’s dishonor and in three meetings you haven’t offered me anything that will accomplish that.”
“Have faith.” Said Michael flatly. “Drink your beer and let’s take a walk.”
Zheng eyed the beer suspiciously. Michael scooped it back from his hand and took a swig. “Why the hell would I poison you?”
“Because this might be some twisted loyalty test that I’ve clearly failed over the last few nights.”
“You are too paranoid.” He handed the beer back to him.
“Comes with the territory.” Said Zheng. He took a swig. Michael paused for the blood to take hold.
“Is that why you carry such heavy firepower?”
“This?” He gestured to the AKM carbine on his belt. “I suppose so. These are new. Kun Yuen’s orders. He fears our enemies are getting more bold with all the chaos in the city recently.”
“Zao’s cowardice.” Michael mused in his mind. “Where did you get it?” He asked Zheng aloud. “That’s an AKM-74S, a standard issue Russian assault carbine. Not exactly standard street fare even for the Tong.”
“No, there was a recent arms shipment that came into Philadelphia from Russia. Kun Yuen purchased a portion of the shipment. He wanted to make sure the guards for his parlors and his person were well equipped for whatever might happen in the days and weeks to come.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” Said Michael eagerly. “You wanted to know what I’m planning. Well, now I think I’ve figured it out. The arms dealer who sold those weapons is a Russian mobster named Konstanin Orlov. He was killed two weeks or so ago in a raid, but his manifests were not recovered. There are government agents who are very interested in knowing where those guns ended up.”
Zheng paused as if to think. “If ATF agents raid Tong operations looking for weapons around the time I’ve been seen in your company, Kun Yuen will think I am the one who sold him out.”
“Precisely.”
“He will have me killed. Not much of a plan.”
“Will he? On so specious a bit of evidence as a series of meetings with a local club owner? One who’s visited your sister numerous times. No, I don’t think so. But he will want to question you. And he will likely gather his leaders to determine a strategy against the Federal agents. For the sake of efficiency, it is likely those two events will be one and the same.”
“So you get to be my rescuer.” Said Zheng. “And Zao? If he questions me using his powers?”
“You will tell him a pale man put you up to it. Can you remember that?”
“I think so.” Zheng’s quick agreement was proof that Michael’s thrall bond had taken hold.
“Good. Because when this happens, it’s going to happen fast.” Warned Michael. “There’s not going to be much time for me to coach you on what to say. All I need from you is a where when the time comes.”
“Alright, I think I can manage that.”
“Good. I’ll let you go. Be ready. This could happen as early as tomorrow.”
“Alright. Let’s do this.” Zheng gave Michael a curt nod and headed back to the brothel.
Michael, in turn, pulled out his flip phone. “Yes, I’d like to speak to Damian Drake please.”
---
Michael’s prediction on it happening quick was spot on. The very next night, Drake arranged for ATF agents to hit three Tong properties in downtown Philadelphia, including the Emperor’s Palace; all fishing for Orlov’s weapons. In all three cases, they found some of them, enough for them to realize Michael’s “anonymous tip” was worth investigating further.
Kun Yuen did not hesitate. The day after the raids, word reached the Tong lord that one of his subordinates had been seen on numerous occasions consorting with a white man. They snatched Zheng from his apartment that afternoon and took him to a secret location to interrogate him. Too sudden and unexpected for Zheng to get his call out to Michael (who would have been asleep midday anyway), it fell to Ai’ma to give Michael the information he needed to find his new ally.
Michael geared up with his usual: katana, Beretta M93, Mac-10. Looking like a cross between Neo from the Matrix and Blade from his movies, Michael hid his arsenal under a long black trench coat. He also added two new items to his gear, a pair of sawed-off double barrel shotguns. Perfect for close-quarters wetwork.
Zheng was being held at the Shanghai Inn, an otherwise nondescript hotel in the center of Chinatown. Owned by the Tongs, it was well equipped for discretion and was frequently used for times when they wanted to keep things out from under prying eyes. Michael drove over in the Falcon, parking it in an alleyway behind the hotel. When he stepped out onto the street from the vehicle, he could hear the not-so-distant sound of flash bangs and breaching shotgun charges. The ATF were busy again tonight.
Michael walked over to the wall and began to climb it like a spider. Zheng would be on the top floor, held in a semi-secret penthouse the Tong’s reserved for their use. The building was tall for Chinatown, probably a good dozen stories. Michael slowly made his way to the top.
As he reached the top floor, he willed the shadows around him to cloak his presence, rendering him invisible to human eyes. He then began to scour the floor for a window he might use. The windows were mirrored, making it nearly impossible for him to see what was going on inside. While a nice artistic effect, it also made spying on the upper floor difficult. Still, Michael hoped the late spring air might encourage someone to leave something open, figuring that no one was crazy enough or capable of attempting entry that way. Sure enough, one of the lounge rooms had an open window wide enough for Michael to squeeze through.
It was not a quiet squeeze, but his powers of obfuscation prevented the four guards present in the room from noticing his entry. They kept to their game of cards, growling at one another in Chinese, making it easy for Michael to make his way behind them. A flash of steel and one strangled cry from one guard was the only sound as Michael dispatched the four before they even knew he was there.
The layout of the upper floor was similar in many ways to the floor where he’d visited Monroe recently: A large lounge area near the elevators and a long corridor that led to a back room. Here, the corridor was not so long and the elevators emptied directly into the lounge as opposed to being in an adjacent area, but it mattered little. Michael returned his katana to its scabbard and headed across the corridor to the main room. He cloaked himself once more and walked inside.
Zheng was tied to a chair at the end of a long table. He’d clearly taken a beating, but Michael’s keen vampire senses could detect he was still breathing, his blood pumping normally. Opposite him at the head of the table was a tall Chinese man in his early 40s, dressed in a suit that was slightly soiled on its sleeves from blood. Kun Yuen clearly liked to do his own dirty work.
Seated at the table were several other Chinese men. All were talking excitedly in their native language. Michael could make out none of it save the English phrase “pale one,” a slight variation on what Michael had instructed Zheng to share, but not an unwelcome one. In fact, Michael found it somewhat more sinister. Zao would get the reference either way; vampires were at the heart of what had happened to his people.
Michael walked over to one of the windows he’d checked earlier and sat down on the sill. Sitting within arms’ reach of the assembled Tongsmen, they never noticed his presence.
As their conversation seemed to lull, Michael stood up and called out with a dramatic flourish, “Gentlemen.” Yeah, it was something he was borrowing from another film, this time the Crow, but using popular tropes had its way of setting the stage for the terror he meant to inflict.
The sudden appearance of a trench coat wearing vampire in their midst shocked the assembled criminals. All spun to face him, several stumbling backwards over their chairs in alarm. Others drew their handguns and pointed the menacingly at Michael.
Of the group, only Kun Yuen seemed unfazed. “So, the pale one appears.” He said in English.
“You have something of mine.”
“You dare to break the truce. Zao will hear of this.”
“Zao’s time has come. The Brotherhood sends its regards.”
Kun Yuen’s eyes grew wide. “Kill him!”
Michael drew the shotguns as Kun Yuen’s order fell on the ears of his subordinates. The reports of a dozen handguns firing at him were drowned out by the echoing boom of the sawed off room-sweepers. One shot took out four Tongsmen, the next three. Michael then dropped the weapons and switched to his katana to mop up the rest.
Kun Yuen made for the door as Michael diced up the rest of the Tong leadership, desperately running from the monster he knew was far superior to even a pack of hardened well-armed human criminals. But the guards outside were already dead and he had nothing to even slow Michael down when he gave chase.
Kun Yuen hammered the elevator button but it simply would not ascend fast enough. Michael moved up behind him. “New management.” He whispered into Kun Yuen’s ear before ramming the katana through his back and out his chest. The Tongsman slumped to the floor.
Michael left the dead Tong leader where he fell and returned to the main room. He untied Zheng and splashed a bit of water on his face to revive him.
“My God, you did it.” Said Zheng when he came to himself. “You really did it.”
“Told you not to underestimate me.”
“You’re hit.” Said Zheng, fingering one of the holes in Michael’s t-shirt.
“It’s nothing.” It was, the wound beneath had already closed.
“You’re one of them. Like Zao with his powers.”
“Something like that. For now, we need to get you out of here. Others will have heard those gunshots.”
“How?”
“With my powers. Grab on.” After Zheng did so, Michael went to the window, opened it, and out he went, leaving a scene of carnage behind him.
---
A rapid knock came at the door of Mitch’s apartment not long after dawn. Mitch was expecting that, although not quite this early. He rubbed his eyes red to give the appearance of sleep and opened it.
Standing outside was Balthazar Murray. “Get dressed. Zao has need of you.”
“You guys kicked me out, remember?” Mitch grumbled through a faked half-awake daze. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Never mind any of that. Just get moving.”
Murray waited impatiently as Mitch got dressed and grabbed a quick iced coffee. Mitch’s theatrical training in college was paying off. He’d been awake all night, awake and ready after Michael told him what had happened at the Shanghai Inn the night before.
“Man, I work at a nightclub.” Grumbled Mitch as he wandered out to Murray’s car. “I just got off work about two hours ago.”
“This can’t wait. Get in. I’ll brief you on the drive down.”
Mitch settled in to the passenger seat. He drew out his long-barreled .45 and checked chamber.
“You shouldn’t need that.” Said Murray as he put the car in gear and began driving.
“You woke me up at the butt crack of dawn when half the city is going insane and you think I won’t need a weapon?” replied Mitch incredulously.
“Everyone’s already dead where we’re going.”
“That’s not much comfort in world where magic is real.” Grumbled Mitch. “We could be walking in on Zombie Apocalypse the Beginning.”
“Alright, I’ll concede you that one.” Said Murray. “Given who we think is responsible for what’s happened.”
Mitch was surprised at that. “And what happened?” he asked, feigning ignorance.
“Over the last few nights, the ATF has been raiding criminal safe houses in Chinatown. Someone found out the Tong had bought some of that weapons cache the Feds have been tracking.”
“Orlov.” Said Mitch. “Our people have been looking into him.”
“Not surprising considering what happened at Studio Gothic last month.” Said Murray. “Tong leadership met last night to consider the issue and someone hit them…hard.”
“So what does this have to do with the Consilium?”
“Zao lives in Chinatown and uses the Tong for muscle when needed. He thinks this is an attack on him personally and wants us to check it out.”
“So he thinks the Brotherhood did this?”
“It’s not like them to be so direct. But given how well defended that meeting was, it’s impossible to imagine a normal human or even a group of them pulling off this hit. It had to be someone supernatural.”
“Maybe the Changelings got worried about Zao living so damn close.” Mitch proffered as an alternate solution.
“Maybe, but unlikely. They’ve been in hiding since the Gauntlet weakened, terrified the True Fae are coming to get them. Either way, we get to find out. We go in, we cast a few spells, and find out who really did this.”
“Simple enough.” Said Mitch.
The pair remained quiet for the rest of their journey. Murray drove them straight into downtown and on into Chinatown, pulling into the parking lot beneath the Shanghai Inn. The pair got out and headed into the elevator. Murray pulled out a special key and unlocked the penthouse floor.
“A gift from the Hierarch, I take.” Said Mitch.
“At this point, we’re likely to be the first ones to visit the floor since the carnage was discovered by the cleaning staff about two hours ago. The staff here are trained to discretion, so the first person they contacted was Zao. No one else has set foot on that floor since.”
“You’d think someone would have heard the gunfire.”
“The penthouse has soundproof walls and floors, making it impossible for the gun reports to be heard below. If any shots were audible outside the building, they were probably dismissed as more noise from the ATF raids.”
The elevator doors opened and Mitch almost immediately gagged. The smell of the dead was overwhelming. Lying right next to the door was a body, with four others encircling a table nearby, the cards and chips from their poker game still on the table untouched. All appeared to be cut down by a blade.
“Damn.” Swore Murray as he turned over the first corpse. “This is Kun Yuen, Zao’s relative and head of the Tong.”
“Ugh.” Said Mitch, looking into the face of the dead man. “How do we explain this? Five murders and probably more in the other room is not something we can just write off to the media and the police.”
“Gang war?” mused Murray. “Or maybe we can give the ATF another Waco-sized black eye over this one and pin it on them? Regardless, that’s not why we’re here. Our job is not to figure out a cover story, but to find out what really happened.” He marched forward with determination into the back room.
Like the lounge, this room was much the same, filled with the corpses of the dead Tong leaders. Murray stopped at Zheng’s chair, noting the cut ropes. “Someone was held here against their will and escaped.”
“Rescued perhaps.”
“He was the bait.” Inferred Murray. “Whoever did this used this prisoner to lure everyone here so he could kill them.”
“And yet spared the prisoner. Sentimentality?”
“No, pragmatism. He had still be useful.” Murray paused. “Zao uses the Tongs as muscle and bodyguards. Killing these leaders is an unfortunate setback, but they can rebuild and resume their role in time. But a traitor loyal to someone else makes that much more difficult. How is the Hierarch to know his Tongsmen are loyal if one of them answers to a secret master?”
“Good point. This attack was deliberately staged to rob Zao of his security, which only means one thing…”
“Someone’s gunning for him.”
“Three guesses who that would be.”
“I doubt the Noble brothers would so cavalierly dispense with the unofficial truce between our factions. This could be Mosley or some manner of false flag.”
“It’s not like you to be paranoid, Murray.”
“You are fully aware that most of the Consilium do not share Zao’s hesitancy against the Brotherhood. Something like this might force him to act. But we have to be sure this IS the Brotherhood’s work. Anything else might force us into reckless haste and error.”
“Occam’s Razor. The simplest solution is usually the correct one.” Argued Mitch. “Given even the little we know of the Brotherhood’s plans and goals, it makes sense with the chaotic hype and fear of the new millennium they’d be up to something big. Something they can’t afford Zao and our Consilium to interfere with.”
“So they choose war.” Murray nodded. “All options make sense. The question is which one. Assist me. We will look through the past and find out the truth here.”
Mitch channeled his focus on the spell Murray began to cast. His perceptions clouded and the room transformed, moving backwards through time to the point of the attack. He saw the Tongsmen gather. He heard them argue. He saw them torture their prisoner. Then he saw Michael enter and systematically slaughter them with shotgun and blade. He saw Michael chase Kun Yuen to the elevator and finish him. He heard what Michael said. “New management” and “The Brotherhood sends its regards.”
Murray broke the spell. “A vampire. That explains much. Nigh invulnerable to gunfire. Able to cloak their presence from human sight. Able to climb the walls of the hotel as a spider.”
“The Brotherhood has vampire allies.”
“I am no fool, James Mitchell. That was no vampire allied to the Brotherhood, but your own friend Michael Allens. So this was a game, a trick to bring Zao out against the Brotherhood openly. And you knew all along.”
“I did.”
“Time to learn where your loyalties truly lie. Will you continue this charade or allow me to deliver the truth to Zao?”
“Did you really need to ask that question? This is about more than loyalty. This is about stopping an atrocity. Whatever the Brotherhood is planning, thousands will suffer for it. We cannot stand idly by and let this happen.”
“They’re just mortals. Sleepers who are ignorant of the truth of reality. Our mission is more important than their lives.”
“I don’t see it that way.”
“Too bad.” Murray moved to leave.
Mitch drew his .45 and fired, killing Murray instantly. “A logical transaction,” he paraphrased to justify his action. “One life for thousands. God help me.”
---
Michael awoke and drove to Club CRASS. The club was already open and thriving when he arrived. He and Sarah stopped briefly at the bar to greet Boar, Paul, and Kathleen and then Michael made his way upstairs.
The office was dark when Michael entered. He flipped on the lights to see Mitch sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands.
“Zao wants to meet with you.” Said Mitch, his voice grave.
“There’s some good news.” Said Michael. “Does he suspect us of being behind the Tong attack?”
“No, I made sure of that. Required me to kill a man to silence him.”
“Hence, the dining on ashes. I know that wasn’t easy for you.”
“No, it wasn’t. But it was my call. My choice.” He stood up, “And I’m going to have to learn to live with it.” Mitch paused, as if readying to deliver a speech he’d spent the last twelve hours composing in his mind. “Whatever the Brotherhood is planning, it’s going to kill a lot more than just one guy. They worship a demonic spirit of murder and it is murder that this creature will crave above all else. They’ll slaughter thousands, tens of thousands, unless they’re stopped. And the only way we’ll stop them is if the Consilium of mages and the vampires unite against them. This isn’t just about you playing vampire politics anymore. This is about something far bigger.”
“Oh, it’s still about vampire politics. I’m going to win the throne by winning the kingdom.”
“You think your fellow bloodsuckers will care one whit about you or any of us being big damn heroes and saving the city?”
“No, but they will care that we defeated a threat greater than all of them and if we’re strong enough to do that, what can we do to them?”
“It’s always about the game for you.” Said Mitch with disgust.
“Not in the way you think.” Corrected Michael. “You’re right. Those people out there, mortals, sleepers, humans, whatever you want to call them. They don’t know it, but they are the prey of monsters far scarier than they are. Yet, they are also us and we were them at one time. Our families are still them, our friends, our lovers. The best way to protect them is to become the king of monsters. How else can I keep Boar safe or you or Becca or Sarah or anyone in a world filled with ravenous beasts unless I am the one holding their leash?”
“I suppose I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“It’s past time someone leashed the Noble brothers and their cult of murderers. Tell Zao I’ll meet with him. He can name the place and time.”
Next Chapter
Mitch settled in to the passenger seat. He drew out his long-barreled .45 and checked chamber.
“You shouldn’t need that.” Said Murray as he put the car in gear and began driving.
“You woke me up at the butt crack of dawn when half the city is going insane and you think I won’t need a weapon?” replied Mitch incredulously.
“Everyone’s already dead where we’re going.”
“That’s not much comfort in world where magic is real.” Grumbled Mitch. “We could be walking in on Zombie Apocalypse the Beginning.”
“Alright, I’ll concede you that one.” Said Murray. “Given who we think is responsible for what’s happened.”
Mitch was surprised at that. “And what happened?” he asked, feigning ignorance.
“Over the last few nights, the ATF has been raiding criminal safe houses in Chinatown. Someone found out the Tong had bought some of that weapons cache the Feds have been tracking.”
“Orlov.” Said Mitch. “Our people have been looking into him.”
“Not surprising considering what happened at Studio Gothic last month.” Said Murray. “Tong leadership met last night to consider the issue and someone hit them…hard.”
“So what does this have to do with the Consilium?”
“Zao lives in Chinatown and uses the Tong for muscle when needed. He thinks this is an attack on him personally and wants us to check it out.”
“So he thinks the Brotherhood did this?”
“It’s not like them to be so direct. But given how well defended that meeting was, it’s impossible to imagine a normal human or even a group of them pulling off this hit. It had to be someone supernatural.”
“Maybe the Changelings got worried about Zao living so damn close.” Mitch proffered as an alternate solution.
“Maybe, but unlikely. They’ve been in hiding since the Gauntlet weakened, terrified the True Fae are coming to get them. Either way, we get to find out. We go in, we cast a few spells, and find out who really did this.”
“Simple enough.” Said Mitch.
The pair remained quiet for the rest of their journey. Murray drove them straight into downtown and on into Chinatown, pulling into the parking lot beneath the Shanghai Inn. The pair got out and headed into the elevator. Murray pulled out a special key and unlocked the penthouse floor.
“A gift from the Hierarch, I take.” Said Mitch.
“At this point, we’re likely to be the first ones to visit the floor since the carnage was discovered by the cleaning staff about two hours ago. The staff here are trained to discretion, so the first person they contacted was Zao. No one else has set foot on that floor since.”
“You’d think someone would have heard the gunfire.”
“The penthouse has soundproof walls and floors, making it impossible for the gun reports to be heard below. If any shots were audible outside the building, they were probably dismissed as more noise from the ATF raids.”
The elevator doors opened and Mitch almost immediately gagged. The smell of the dead was overwhelming. Lying right next to the door was a body, with four others encircling a table nearby, the cards and chips from their poker game still on the table untouched. All appeared to be cut down by a blade.
“Damn.” Swore Murray as he turned over the first corpse. “This is Kun Yuen, Zao’s relative and head of the Tong.”
“Ugh.” Said Mitch, looking into the face of the dead man. “How do we explain this? Five murders and probably more in the other room is not something we can just write off to the media and the police.”
“Gang war?” mused Murray. “Or maybe we can give the ATF another Waco-sized black eye over this one and pin it on them? Regardless, that’s not why we’re here. Our job is not to figure out a cover story, but to find out what really happened.” He marched forward with determination into the back room.
Like the lounge, this room was much the same, filled with the corpses of the dead Tong leaders. Murray stopped at Zheng’s chair, noting the cut ropes. “Someone was held here against their will and escaped.”
“Rescued perhaps.”
“He was the bait.” Inferred Murray. “Whoever did this used this prisoner to lure everyone here so he could kill them.”
“And yet spared the prisoner. Sentimentality?”
“No, pragmatism. He had still be useful.” Murray paused. “Zao uses the Tongs as muscle and bodyguards. Killing these leaders is an unfortunate setback, but they can rebuild and resume their role in time. But a traitor loyal to someone else makes that much more difficult. How is the Hierarch to know his Tongsmen are loyal if one of them answers to a secret master?”
“Good point. This attack was deliberately staged to rob Zao of his security, which only means one thing…”
“Someone’s gunning for him.”
“Three guesses who that would be.”
“I doubt the Noble brothers would so cavalierly dispense with the unofficial truce between our factions. This could be Mosley or some manner of false flag.”
“It’s not like you to be paranoid, Murray.”
“You are fully aware that most of the Consilium do not share Zao’s hesitancy against the Brotherhood. Something like this might force him to act. But we have to be sure this IS the Brotherhood’s work. Anything else might force us into reckless haste and error.”
“Occam’s Razor. The simplest solution is usually the correct one.” Argued Mitch. “Given even the little we know of the Brotherhood’s plans and goals, it makes sense with the chaotic hype and fear of the new millennium they’d be up to something big. Something they can’t afford Zao and our Consilium to interfere with.”
“So they choose war.” Murray nodded. “All options make sense. The question is which one. Assist me. We will look through the past and find out the truth here.”
Mitch channeled his focus on the spell Murray began to cast. His perceptions clouded and the room transformed, moving backwards through time to the point of the attack. He saw the Tongsmen gather. He heard them argue. He saw them torture their prisoner. Then he saw Michael enter and systematically slaughter them with shotgun and blade. He saw Michael chase Kun Yuen to the elevator and finish him. He heard what Michael said. “New management” and “The Brotherhood sends its regards.”
Murray broke the spell. “A vampire. That explains much. Nigh invulnerable to gunfire. Able to cloak their presence from human sight. Able to climb the walls of the hotel as a spider.”
“The Brotherhood has vampire allies.”
“I am no fool, James Mitchell. That was no vampire allied to the Brotherhood, but your own friend Michael Allens. So this was a game, a trick to bring Zao out against the Brotherhood openly. And you knew all along.”
“I did.”
“Time to learn where your loyalties truly lie. Will you continue this charade or allow me to deliver the truth to Zao?”
“Did you really need to ask that question? This is about more than loyalty. This is about stopping an atrocity. Whatever the Brotherhood is planning, thousands will suffer for it. We cannot stand idly by and let this happen.”
“They’re just mortals. Sleepers who are ignorant of the truth of reality. Our mission is more important than their lives.”
“I don’t see it that way.”
“Too bad.” Murray moved to leave.
Mitch drew his .45 and fired, killing Murray instantly. “A logical transaction,” he paraphrased to justify his action. “One life for thousands. God help me.”
---
Michael awoke and drove to Club CRASS. The club was already open and thriving when he arrived. He and Sarah stopped briefly at the bar to greet Boar, Paul, and Kathleen and then Michael made his way upstairs.
The office was dark when Michael entered. He flipped on the lights to see Mitch sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands.
“Zao wants to meet with you.” Said Mitch, his voice grave.
“There’s some good news.” Said Michael. “Does he suspect us of being behind the Tong attack?”
“No, I made sure of that. Required me to kill a man to silence him.”
“Hence, the dining on ashes. I know that wasn’t easy for you.”
“No, it wasn’t. But it was my call. My choice.” He stood up, “And I’m going to have to learn to live with it.” Mitch paused, as if readying to deliver a speech he’d spent the last twelve hours composing in his mind. “Whatever the Brotherhood is planning, it’s going to kill a lot more than just one guy. They worship a demonic spirit of murder and it is murder that this creature will crave above all else. They’ll slaughter thousands, tens of thousands, unless they’re stopped. And the only way we’ll stop them is if the Consilium of mages and the vampires unite against them. This isn’t just about you playing vampire politics anymore. This is about something far bigger.”
“Oh, it’s still about vampire politics. I’m going to win the throne by winning the kingdom.”
“You think your fellow bloodsuckers will care one whit about you or any of us being big damn heroes and saving the city?”
“No, but they will care that we defeated a threat greater than all of them and if we’re strong enough to do that, what can we do to them?”
“It’s always about the game for you.” Said Mitch with disgust.
“Not in the way you think.” Corrected Michael. “You’re right. Those people out there, mortals, sleepers, humans, whatever you want to call them. They don’t know it, but they are the prey of monsters far scarier than they are. Yet, they are also us and we were them at one time. Our families are still them, our friends, our lovers. The best way to protect them is to become the king of monsters. How else can I keep Boar safe or you or Becca or Sarah or anyone in a world filled with ravenous beasts unless I am the one holding their leash?”
“I suppose I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“It’s past time someone leashed the Noble brothers and their cult of murderers. Tell Zao I’ll meet with him. He can name the place and time.”
Next Chapter
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