Divergence Point: Founding of the NYA
Divergence Point: Bratva's Betrayal
Lloyd Kumar sat in his office, debating whether or not to break Omnia Venena's staunch neutrality. Hector stood to take all of New York in one fell swoop. If that happened, the cartel would grow dangerously powerful. Worse, they'd likely think they were invincible and try to conquer other areas.
They were, however, paying rather nicely. He picked up the phone, trying to decide who to call. If he reached out to Mastermind, Alpha Wolf, the Vipers, and the UCC they'd be able to push Los Sicarios as well as their other allies out of New York. If he didn't, Omnia Venena would lure three of them into a trap and destroy them.
We work for money, not ideals. But if Los Sicarios gets their way, we may not have much of a source of income in the long term. Is the risk worth it?
After a few minutes wrestling with the problem, he punches in a number.
Hector, Toni Leone, Lloyd Kumar, and Nikolai Zolnerowich are sitting down arounda table, playing a game of Texas Hold 'em, with Lloyd dealing. Hector and Nikolai are clearly up for the night, with Toni losing pretty badly. The door opened, rather loudly, and the Ace of Spades walked in.
"It's about goddamn time," Nikolai says, turning to face the clown, who is taking his own seat. He and Hector start tucking away their winnings, while Lloyd puts away the cards and Toni looks slightly miffed that he wouldn't be able to recoup his losses until later. "So," he continues, "Is the war over?"
"The Wolves have been pushed out of New York, as have the Appalachian Vipers. Those two still have operations in the Northeast, but it'll be a while until they can try shit again," Lloyd says.
"And those Cicada traitors?" Hector asked, venomous rage burning in his voice.
"Taken care of," Toni replies, "We pushed them out of New York as well, and their operations are severely weakened within the states. The UCC also backed out peaceably, seeing they were against very long odds. You're lucky we were helping you, clown."
"Now we just need to split New York three ways, and everything's in order," Hector says, smiling.
"Three ways?" Ace says, voice shrill, "There's five of us here!"
"As for us, we don't control territory outside of Philadelphia," Lloyd says, "And as for you, well..."
On que, Toni, Hector, Nikolai, and Lloyd draw their sidearms. All are pointed directly at the Ace of Spades. The clown's eyes grow wide behind his mask, only just now grasping how easily he had been played.
Four gunshots ring out. Four bullets hit Ace in the head. As he hits the floor, everyone else holsters their guns and continues to negotiate.
Alpha Wolf stumbles into his safehouse, moving gingerly like a whipped cur. He starts making himself a quick meal; he's on the run, and you can't run hungry for long. Just as he starts to eat, he stiffens as he feels a gun at his back. "You don't want to do this," he says, putting as much of the force and strength that won him his following into his voice as he could, "You probably work for one of the cartels, right? A hired killer. Are you sure you can pull that trigger? Are you sure you can bring the human race down even more? Join us, son. Join the Wolves, and help me save humanity from the depredations of other criminals."
"Nice speech, mate," the sardonic voice says behind him, "You're wrong on several counts, though. For one, those cartel blokes aren't my employer. For two, boss wants me to escort you to meet him. For three," the man leans in, whispering almost in his ear, "I could pull the trigger and put you to sleep, boy, and not feel a damn thing."
* * *
Alpha Wolf walks into the meeting room, seeing two men he didn't know.
"Ah. Alpha," one of the men says, "You may call me Mastermind, and this man here is Jedediah Greer. We represent Cicada and the Appalachian Vipers, respectively."
"To get straight to the point, Los Sicarios beat us. We need to find a way to beat them," Jedidiah says, "So we need to work together. Gather our strength. Deal?"
The three talked for several hours, hashing out their plans of action. Finally satisfied, they shared a drink and went home.
Saitou Tachibana slipped into the Leone's mansion. They weren't at war, they weren't on alert. Easy to just enter, posing as a hired guard, even with his Ninjato and submachine gun openly worn. He walks confidently through the halls, meeting questions with a quick glare. Eventually, he found where he was going.
Toni Leone's room was guarded by several men. Saitou motions with his submachine gun for them to step aside. Then they react with confusion, he guns them down. This, naturally, triggers an alarm. Goddamnit, I got careless, too. Time to finish this. He gets ready to slam down the door and pump the Leone leader full of lead, but before he can do so it flies open, slamming him in the face. He drops his submachine gun momentarily, and doesn't have time to pick him up before his target comes in swinging.
Ducking, weaving, and throwing some of his own punches, Saitou plays it safe, making the man overconfident. Fighting and infiltration revolved around the same core principles; you needed to lure your enemy into position. Toni, thinking his opponent is far less skilled than he actually is, gives a little less thought to technique and tries to take him down.
"Even if you succeeded, you would be dead soon," he taunts, "Did you really think you could murder the head of the Leones and get away with it? The Twins would hunt you down before you..."
"They're dead," Saitou says, acting strained. Patton certainly should have gotten rid of those two incompetents by now.
"John and Nick will send..."
"They're dead," Saitou says once again. Omni was hitting one now, and Slava was getting the other. Seeing an opening, Saitou grabs a Shuriken. One of the razor blades flashes along his palm, slicing deep into Toni's neck.
Time to get out
Leaving the crime lord to bleed out, Saitou climbed out the window and snuck out of the compound. Within the day, the rest of the Leones had fallen.
New York was now controlled by Los Sicarios and the Bratva alone.
Patton Trask aimed carefully, centering the man in the small window in front of him. He was playing with his daughter, the very image of a doting parent. The man was his target, however. Jedidiah Greer was the secret leader of the Vipers - something he was very, very bad at hiding.
He looked at his watch. Twelve o'clock. In five minutes every single ranking member of the Vipers, including Alejandro, would be dead. Patton waits, going through his ritual. He slows his breathing, slows his heartbeat. Lines the target up perfectly in his sights, compensates for drop and wind. He holds his breath and, between heartbeats, fires a shot. The .50 caliber bullet tears through the window, grazing the girl's neck as her father lifted her. Jedidaih Greer's last vision was the force of the .50 cal's passing nearly severing his daughter's head just before it strikes him in the left eye, tearing into his brain.
An FBI agent sits in his DC office, trying to make sense of what's happening. Two of the crime syndicates operating the northeast were wiped out in as many weeks; the hacking organization known as Cicada also had interests in the area, but they had exited the entire hemisphere. As far as anyone could tell, a similar cleaning house was happening in the various countries north and south of the border.
Now it would seem like it was the Wolves' turn. Hypocritical cultists had it coming, the agent thought, As far as I'm concerned, assholes can kill each other off. It had already started, anyway.
Former senator Jefferson Tala had been found, sniped with what appeared to be a custom caliber. The very next day, a torrent was unleashed on the web connecting him to the Wolves. Within a few days, the woman known as Le Coyote was found, sniped in the knees and arms then carved up with a knife. The same day, the crackhead Le Renard's body turned up, beaten and mangled so as to be unrecognizable.
The man who ran the cult - Alpha Wolf, he called himself - was nowhere to be found. The agent got a call.
"I think we've found Alpha Wolf," the voice said, sounded panicky and hoarse, "And that grey wolf that went missing a few weeks back." The agent heard several people retching in the background.
"Is it that bad?"
"It's probably best if you wait until after you see it to eat lunch. I'll text you the address."
"So," Lloyd says, looking at the two crime leaders across from him, "You two now control all the crime in the Americas between you. What's next, I wonder?"
Nikolai and Hector glare daggers at each other. All three men knew what was coming next.
"The Zolnerowich Bratva is now at war with Los Sicarios," Nikolai says.
Lloyd smiles. "And Omnia Venena is open to either side."
The Interpol pours over data along with most of the staff from several different country's internal police in their task center, trying to contain the outbreak of violence. This last month had seen one gigantic crime war between two organizations that controlled the Americas. Innocents were getting caught in the crossfire, and casualties were mounting.
There was nothing they could do. The two organizations had simply grown too powerful for anyone to touch them, save for each other.
Omni Key walks in to the abandoned warehouse, cautiously.
"Slava! I know this is a trap. Just come out already."
The large Russian man steps out, putting up a bare-knuckled guard. Omni Key smiles, and pulls out a knife. Slava does the same, and the two circle, waiting for each other to make the first move.
Simultaneously, forms a blur, they charge in and strike, each twisting to try and avoid the other's blow. Each slashed and stabbed several times, the knives so sharp and moving so quickly you could hear their moves slicing the air. Eventually, Slava lands a kick in the center of Omni Key's chest, and the two break apart. They continue circling wearily.
Patton Trask strolls into the Los Sicarios compound. He's set up a meeting with Hector; a meeting that will end in blood. He enters Hector's office, smiling coldly.
"Hector," he says, motioning to the guards flanking their boss, "Would you mind giving us some privacy?"
Hector motions to the guards, who walk the ten meter length of the room, close and bar the double doors, and return. "Whatever you want to say, you can say in front of these men."
"I see..." Patton stands near the door, considering something. Without warning, he draws his pistol and fires three shots, hitting one guard in the left eye, one in the right, and Hector in the throat. Seeing the balcony outside the room, he vaults out and spots a man driving a Mesa Jeep along the road a few meters in front of him. He takes a snap shot, hitting the driver square in the temple. The jeep takes a bit to roll to a stop, but Patton reaches it, throws the dead driver out of the car, jumps in, and starts driving.
Saitou Tachibana nods to Nikolai Zolnerowich's guards, walking in. The man was as vulnerable as he was going to be; Saitou did not expect to come out of this alive. He struck quickly, throwing two spikes at Nikolai's eyes. One hit its mark, while the other hit the throat.
Saitou barely felt the bullets riddling his body. He'd got the job done, he'd died a good death. And now the chaos would get worse, and his group's profits would soar. His family would be taken care of.