Gangs Aren't My Style (A Black Death Novel)

Chapter 2 - The Beginning of the End

Daniil gave the signal for his men to advance and take their positions around the building, the mission already having been completely planned out even though the information leak had only been received twenty-four hours before. The information had been obtained by a spy in a gang located relatively near the Chicago base, Black Death having placed spies in numerous gangs around the country so that they could receive intel about their enemies' plans and as such, not be caught unaware. Acknowledging the fact that other gangs could place spies in Black Death themselves, only those in charge such as Daniil, his boss and leader of the gang, James, and the Kyle, the second in command, would be aware of the 'master' plan. The members themselves were only told the pieces that were required for their specific job. This tactic also proved useful when members were captured by either the police or enemy gangs; although their sworn loyalty should keep them from talking, upon the prospect of treacherously, their words would not contain enough knowledge of the current happenings to completely jeopardize the gang as a whole or its members, instead only creating a minor setback.

Daniil once again stopped to lean around the corner of a building, hidden in the deep shadows that characterized the dilapidated section of town in which this enemy gang had staked it claim. He was once again surprised not to see any guards patrolling the territory or guarding the outside of the decrepit compound that the Galmer Gang called their center of operations, doubt creeping into his mind that this disorganized gang could have anything to hold over their heads. Regardless, Daniil's eyes expertly swept over the surrounding area, taking in every detail of the building he and his team would soon be invading.

The building itself was a firetrap, no noticeable forms of escape in the event of a fire visible. The exterior door was made only of wood, two large, glass windows set on either side of it. The windows themselves were cloudy from dirt, almost to the point of creating a frosted glass effect, but the inside of the warehouse was still perceptible to eyes with sharp vision. Behind the glass, rival gang members could be made out sitting around an elongated table playing poker. Their chairs were pulled up carelessly and set at odd angles, cigars hanging from their mouths as they grumbled or shouted over the outcome of a certain hand.

Pulling back slightly, he turned to his men, motioning them to lean in. "They have no guards monitoring the front of the building and, seeing as there is only one other entrance, a side door connected to the kitchen that leads out into the alley around back where the garbage disposal is placed, it is very unlikely that any guards are even monitoring the area. At the most, there might be one guard around back, but I'm sure you men will be able to subdue him until we can get in as well as find and recover the leaked information or material. The only men I can spot inside the building are a total of eleven men sitting around a poker table just inside the front entrance and they appear to be very unprepared, proving that they do not suspect we have any idea of what they currently hold against us. The plan is simple, three of you go around back and enter through the side door and take care of anyone in the back of the warehouse. The rest of you will be attacking from the front with me and only once the bottom level has been cleared will we search the second. Understood?"

Nods spread throughout the mass of men clustered around him. Knowing his men were ready, Daniil quickly sent out the order for his men to attack. Leading the procession of the six remaining men, he swung his machine gun around from where it had rested on his back, holding it out in front of him as he quickly fell into the easy rhythm that seemed to come naturally to him on missions.

Barging through the front door, the startled shouts of men and rustling of bodies met his ears. The sound of a door smashing open sounded through the almost bare space as the men around the table threw down their cards and reached for their guns, others cowering in fear or remaining immobile in shock. Releasing a round of bullets from his gun, Daniil watched in satisfaction as the cowards dashed and ducked for cover, attempting to hide behind their brave comrades only for their human shields to slump over, clutching their wounds before the blood soaked its way out in a hemisphere and they collapsed to the floor, their guns clattering to the concrete beside them.