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Old Wizard
Administrator
Prince
Posts: 871
Try not. Do or do not. There is no try.
Re: The Priest
« Reply #4 on: July 14, 2005, 1109 PM »
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Quote from: I
Just after nightfall, a caravan of black sedans pulled up to an abandoned textile factory on the south side of town. The heads of the Szitovszky Crime Syndicate met there weekly to discuss business, to ensure the most profit.. The interior was clean, with open space to provide no shadows for would-be hitmen, and there were a dozen black chairs sitting around a table.
They all abided by an unwritten code; one bodyguard per person, no more. It was a sign of good faith and loyalty. As always, the last person to arrive was Christopher Szitovsky himself. The man liked to come into a room and have all eyes turn to him, just a little ego boost to remind everyone he was in charge.
One of the other heads, Mr. Li came up to Mr. Szitovszky with an urgent look on his face. Li was what the other gangsters called an import; He came from Hong Kong seeking riches in the untapped criminal resources of the western world. His brutal, merciless efficiency in various matters made him a dangerous man. People said the only thing stopping him from trying to take over the whole syndicate was his unwavering respect for authority. The general consensus was, though, that if something were to heppen, Li would run the whole show.
"Mister Stofsk." Only the most senior members of the syndicate could get away with calling him that. Anyone of a lower standing would be sorry they ever met the man.
"Yes Mr Li?" Szitovszky was in a good mood, he hadn't heard of the events the night before, an unfortunate detriment of sleeping until noon.
"I have been keeping eye on a troubling situation, I will require first speaking rights when the meeting starts."
"Very well."
Szitovszky opened the meeting with his usual cheerful manner. "Good evening everyone, I trust we're all well?"
There were a lot of uneasy agreements coming from the dozen or so assembled people. A confused look crossed Mr Szitivszky's face. "Mr Li? I understand you have some important news?"
"I do sir. Last night, someone apparently killed four of our men. Most notably Ezekiel Charleston. What I've heard from an informant in Police forensics, they were all killed by someone using his bare hands."
"Pardon me? Bare hands?" The underworld kingpin was visibly shaken.
"Yes sir. That and Ezekiel had a knife wound in the throat."
"Who the fuck would be stupid enough to touch our guys?" Mr Szitovszky was clearly growing angrier. Nothing like this had happened in a very long time. He ran clean rackets, and the police knew to keep away through a system of bribes and threats. Worse, Ezekiel had been with the Syndicate for over a decade. He was one of the first people to be recruited when Szitovszky first came over from Hungary after the USSR fell, he had been at the christenings of all four of Szitovsky's children. Now he was gone, this would not stand.
"The profilers think it might be a religious fanatic."
"...What?" Szitovszky was lost in rage.
Li hesitated for a moment. "One of the dead men had a cross carved into his cheek." The whole room shifted, not many had heard this part of the story.
"A cross in his cheek?"
"Yes." More murmers. Killings in this business were a part of life, when they were from an enemy. Brutal slayings like this were another matter.
One of the other heads, a fat bearded man, cleared his throat. "Any idea who he's working for, Mister Li?"
The chinaman shook his head. "Nothing yet, I contacted all of our informants as soon as I heard, but its too early for anything definite. It could be the Montoyas, the Fellinis, or just as easily it could be a loner." He shrugged. "We have made many enemies over the years." A series of smirks and manly chuckles went around the room. These were proud men. All had many achievements to their credit, both famous and infamous.
There came a bang at the door, half the bodyguards jumped, pointing their guns at the door, the other half were pointed at the other bodyguards. Mr Li's bodyguard, Mr Hong, went and opened the door. It was hard to see anything in the dim light, but when he looked down there was a barely breathing man on the doorstep. After checking to see if he was armed, he pulled him in. Two of the guards moved to help.
"Anyone know this man?" Hong didn't know what else to do.
"I do." One of the other heads, Mr Arturo stood up. "Max, what's wrong?" Arturo was concerned, moreso than one might think, considering this man appeared to be no more than a low level thug.
Max struggled to form words, his suit was soaked a dark shade of crimson. "P... pr... Priest." Max's chest sunk. He was dead.
There was a moment. Mr Arturo looked up, his eyes blazing. "He was my brother. He would have been at McDully's, the bar on Walnut street." All emotion was gone from his voice, he could have passed for Mr Li in his current state.
A moment passed.
Mr Szitovszky cleared his throat and stood up, he wanted to address the group with an air of authority. "I don't want to take any chances. Mr Li, call some of your friends from Hong Kong. I'll put them up somewhere nice, like the Imperial. We'll find this Priest and put his head will be on my wall." He looked at Mr. Arturo, who nodded approvingly. "Now," He settled back into his chair " is there any other business?"
There was silence.
"Very well, meeting adjourned."
Everyone got up and hurriedly left for their fortified homes. Except for Mr Arturo, who set out for McDully's.
Enjoy, or I'll pummel you.
Summary - Mike Nugent Picture/Text
Name: Mike Nugent
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