Description: With Metro City being consumed by violence, Duke finds his criminal empire threatened by the potential reprisals from law enforcement and heroes alike. Placing the blame on Damnd, the current leader of Mad Gear, he quickly moves in to learn why the gangs are on a rampage... and how he is going to stop them.
Late one night in Metro City, trouble is afoot. In the chaos of Shadaloo's coup of this fine city, Damnd and his friends from Mad Gear have been profitting off the chaos in a variety of ways. Muggings, looting, home invasion, theft, burglary, profiteering, all of the things ruthless goons do in times of trouble. Tonight Damnd and company are hanging out beneath the bridge, as usual, with Damnd sitting on his typical 'throne', a half-burned upholstered chair. He's presently playing with a handheld video game he stole from some schmuck little kid, giggling to himself. His men are nearby, hanging out around a burning barrel to keep the night's chill away.
Of course, in the world of organized crime, not everything profits from chaos.
Amongst the court of the king of the slums, a well-dressed ambassador approaches with his herald. Dressed in his black and red suit ensemble, and with his brown-suited assistant with the eye-patch in tow, the great crime boss of Metro City approaches. His expression was tense, his eyes were burning.
Jacque, on the other hand, simply holds his briefcase in silence.
Approaching the Jamaican gang leader, Duke does not hesitate to call out. "Damnd!" The man rumbles with a fierce baritone, shuddering under the bridge. "Call away your men! We need to talk about this outbreak of violence on the streets!" Duke seemed to angry about something, but it wasn't quite clear what. After all, he asked for Mad Gear to bring chaos to the streets.
Wasn't this exactly what he wanted?
Damnd's men are startled by the shouting, all turning to stare at Duke. Damnd slowly looks up at Duke, before looking down at his game, hitting the pause button. He stands up and sets the game down where he was sitting, before he turns to his men. "Bros, take a walk." Damnd's hoods turn and with a little bit of irritation, they walk out of earshot. Damnd grins at Duke. "What can I do for de Duke?"
Duke scowls at the thugs, as Damnd finally calls them away. Damnd had his own way of running things. Duke could respect that. Duke, however, had his own way of running things as well. As it is clear, the gang lord looks around the slumlord's court. Disgusting. Low. And yet, as he plays away on the game, he was clearly content. That was the best kind of minion. Practical, effective, obedient, and above all, unambitious. Damnd was content of ruling the slums and streets of Metro City. And yet, as Duke glares back at the drug dealing thug, he speaks with careful, dark tones.
"I am here to talk about how you are doing a good job, Damnd."
Duke's tone was sincere, though his presence was still dark. Approaching Damnd with solemn intensity, he gazes at the man with a grim disposition. "You have been quite good at spreading chaos on the streets, and striking fear in the hearts of the people. You seem to living like a king yourself. And your tip on El Fuerte... well, I have seen that the wrestler has been taken care of. As far as Mad Gear is concerned, you have been bringing back to the hey days of the gang. -But-" Duke adds, as he snaps his fingers at his assistant. The one-eyed man reaches into his suit, and draws out a newspaper. Thumbing through, he hands the folded paper to Duke, who opens up the paper.
"I am not pleased with the news, Damnd."
"Attacking in broad daylight. Fear and violence on the streets. A -jailbreak- of all things. There is controlled chaos, and then there is this. Do you realize how hot you are becoming? What it will mean if the National Guard comes in? If Haggar is force to go on another rampage?" Duke's voice was rumbling throughout the bridge, his temper building to a boil. Rolling up the paper, he tosses it at Damnd's feet.
"You need to scale back, Damnd. Or I will make you scale back."
Damnd puts his hands on his hips, calm and composed as Duke gets angrier and angrier. He bobs his head along with Duke's words, used to dealing with bigger fish in the chain. You have to make them think they're in control. That you care about what they want - especially when the reality of the situation is that you don't. "I'm glad you heard about de riots. Mad Gear has been making a lot of money off dem - the cops are busy. But don't worry - whatever is goin' on in Metro, Mad Gear isn't de dudes wrecking de city. Dey're not Mad Gear - Hell, I t'ought it was de Southtown Syndicate. Whoever dey are, dey ain't my men - even if dey're keeping de cops busy while we rob dis town blind. Whoever is doing dis shit - and it's some crazy shit, I tell you - it ain't Mad Gear. Even under Belger we weren't dat nuts. Dis is some next level shit, like when Rolento took de city over."
At least in that regard, Duke is appeased.
As Damnd explains himself to Duke, the crime boss thunders towards the man, the Duke's temper in full force. "You better not be lying to me Damnd. Dead men lie to me." Damnd was useful. He was successful. He was a useful man. But if he was a traitor, Duke would bring down his entire ground game to oust a weak link like him. As he draws back a burning fist, hot with chi energy, Jacque clears his throat. "Monsieur." The man says in a flat, Creole accent.
Duke begrudgingly lowers his fist.
Duke struggles to restain himself. Rubbing his neck scar, he looks down at Damnd. "But suppose you were not working behind my back, and you weren't lying. It is vital to your health, as well as the health of Mad Gear AND the Syndicate, that we restrain these chaos. While it is good for Mad Gear now, with the cops distracted, we do not need a rise in chaos like with Sunshine City. Whenever someone wrecks the city, 'do-gooders' show up. Just like with Belger and Rolento and in Southtown City; if you make too much trouble, you draw in people whose desire is to solve them. They will come in, break up the gangs, arrest the whole lot, and we ALL will be back at square one, rotting in a jail cell." Duke rumbles, fury restrained as he paces around the court. "Tell me what you know about these men. Are they fighting with Mad Gear over turf? Who leads them? What do you know about these fools?!" Duke hurls a fist into a nearby concrete pillar.
Knocking the section crumbling to the ground.
Damnd, pleased that Duke is mollified, shrugs a shoulder at the line of questioning. "I'm not sure. Dey haven't been messin' wit' us, just de squares. And dey're organized. Dis isn't random. No, whoever be doin' dis...Dey smart. De question is, why are dey doin' it." He turns to face the water. "You make a good point, 'dough. We gotta stop dis. I just don't t'ink we have de manpower. Dese guys are definitely from out of town - I know de whole criminal network. Someone's shipping dese guys in. Dat means logistics. Dat means planning. Dat means money. You want should I grab a couple o' dem and find out where de money is comin' from? Dat's de first step, de way I see it, mon."
And once again, Damnd proves himself useful.
Identify a problem. Provide a number of solutions. Damnd was experienced working with higher-ups, that was for certain. After destroying the concrete pillar, the Don's temper was satiated, for the moment. Regaining his composure, he adjusts his collar.
"Smart thinking, Damnd."
"You grab a few of the lowlifes, then. Kidnap them, beat the truth out of them. Find out where the money is coming from. Who is organizing it. Why they are organizing it. What we need to do." As far as ground guys go, Damnd had the unique asset of being not only proactive, but having a long list of relevant successes. While Damnd was not Duke's direct subordinate by any means, he was a contractor well worth his salt. "As for manpower..." Duke pauses a moment, considering his options carefully.
"... What are Mad Gear's numbers, and what do you need?"
Damnd's mouth breaks into a big grin, showing off a couple gold teeth on that nasty yellow grill of his. He turns back to face Duke, crossing his arms over his barreled chest as he thinks, his hidden eyes glancing upwards. "Hrmmmm...I'd say I have, under my direct control, maybe t'irty enforcers. I could scrounge up some junkies as cannon fodder, but dey're hard to control. A lot of my operations aren't de bloody kind - we just sell de dope. But I gots some legbreakers. Tell you what - you get me, say, twenty good men...Ones dat can handle demselves in a fight...We could put a dent in dis t'ing. We'll need help from de pigs, but dat's no big deal. Once dey figure out we're not Mad Gear, dey'll probably t'ink we're not de big issue. I'll get de word out - Mad Gear does not approve of dese bastards. Dat should solve any friendly fire issues we be havin'."
Thirty Enforcers?
That was lacking. Then again, Damnd was running his own game. Self-management was within his scope. Junkies and thugs worked for him for a while. But an army of thugs like this. It makes sense to add in more power. Stroking his beard inquisitively, Duke listens carefully, mulling about the insight of the gang leader. And finally, he passes judgement on his insight.
"Good, good Damnd."
"I will give Edi. E a call; this is just his line of work. We give him some gangs to bust up, he will get the police force on the case." The gang lord's temper was well faded, a diabolical smirk slowly spreading across his face. "I have some of my associations in the higher-ups to provide assistance. I am coordinating with them with added support. I will discuss that in detail in a moment. But if you need some more enforcers..."
"I can get you your enforcers."
Duke passes a hand towards his assistant, who stares silently at the Mad Gear enforcer. "One-Eyed Jacque here can assist in getting you some Syndicate men. They should be tougher than your run of the mill Mad Gear men. And... there is one more front that we have not considered." Duke focuses on towards Damnd, a wicked grin. "The plan I mentioned before. Tell me, Damnd."
"... You are still endearing to those heroic types, aren't you?"
Damnd uncrosses his muscular arms as he smiles crookedly at Duke. "You know it. De Damnd mon keeps de good community relations. Some o' dem even t'ink I'd be willing to /talk/ about leaving crime. Can you fuckin' believe it? Dey t'ink I be a waterwalker, just like dem. What one dude t'inks, he t'inks everyone t'inks, I s'pose. Why, you want me to make contact with one o' dem? I t'ink I can get dem to play ball wit' us. I know dat hot blonde chick from de Delta Red." Mm, he'd really like to get into her pants. Of course, since she's not addicted to narcotics, it's unlikely that he'll ever get his chance.
Damnd did keep up good relations.
Duke's face contorts bitterly at the mention of Cammy, if in description not name. Duke's embarassing rollimg by the woman was a black mark for the gang lord. Naturally, he had taken steps to keep dangerous heros like that from meddling in his affairs. Safe crime paid off more than risky crime, in the long run.
"It will be more than that."
"I have a... few associates looking to bring in those hero types to break up those gangs. Similar to that Sunshine City thing. The trick is to funnel them towards those other gangs. Since you aren't behind any of it, I will see that Mad Gear is well protected." Duke says with a sinister air, implying that Damnd might not be as lucky under different circumstances. "Naturally, while the police might have no trouble identifying the right gangsters to hit... they might need a lovable rogue like yourself to help direct them to the right batch of troublemakers." Someone like Damnd seemed to the untrained eye as a goofy, harmless troublemaker on the street. But he and Duke knew all too well the truth behind that golden smile.
A ruthless drug lord that would do anything for the depraved pleasures of the street.
"Sure, I'll be de tour guide," Damnd replies, idly pulling a pre-rolled blunt out of the front pocket of his yellow vest. "You know, I t'ink I might jus' get a medal from Haggar for all dis!" He emits a bellowing laugh, slipping the blunt in his mouth and lighting it. He puffs on the fragrant (to some) marijuana, exhaling a cloud upwards, keeping it out of Duke's face since he doubts a tightass like Duke gets high. "You give me de support, I'll run dese dickheads out of de city. Dis is my town..." His mouth parts into another grin. "Well, our town."
The plan had come together.
As Damnd brings out his own smoke, the Don snaps a finger at his quiet assistant. Placing the briefcase on the ground beside him, Jacque reaches into his suit, and draws out a small box. Opening it, he brings out a precut cigar. Closing the box, he tucks it away as he places it in Duke's hand. Holding it out still, the Syndicate Boss lets it stay in place for Jacque to light it up with a Zippo lighter. Waiting, he speaks menacingly to his partner in crime. "You will rule the streets, Damnd. These will be your streets. But the city itself?"
"The City will be mine!"
Now lit, Duke takes a puff from the cigar. Blowing a cloud of smoke, Duke suddenly begins to unleash a deep, booming laugh. Duke had come with the intent to crush Damnd if he truly lost control of the gang. But the man had deflected the blame, and was now proving to once again be a loyal, competent, and above all, experienced lieutenant. Roaring with laughter, the wicked laughter thunders under the bridge, running through every crack a crevice. The laughter was spreading to the ears of the lowlifes of the bridge,
Heralding the Hellish Man's machinations that would soon come.
Log created on 01:47:51 08/08/2012 by Duke, and last modified on 05:29:00 08/08/2012.