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Chapter 18

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Two Months Ago

The meeting of the families was never an easy thing. The Triads did not like the hoods, and the meatballs from Staten Island had always staked a claim in Chinatown. With this most recent rise in crime sprees and gang-related violence, pressure was coming down from all 4 families. The Downtown 9ers were the first ones to start war with the Triads. They came from Washington Heights, over 20 years ago now. Since then, the family has spun off into smaller sects of petty drug gangs. In wartime, they all call themselves collectively the 9ers. Any other time they were really small-time thugs trying to make a name for themselves. One of which used to be the Dec Dawgs before they were taken out.

The mob used to be a heavy influence with Hell's Kitchen just in the adjacent neighborhood. Steadily since the 90's they have been withdrawing from NYC and settling in Jersey. But that is not to say they did not still control many properties and businesses in Chinatown. The Mafia used Chinatown's ambiguous juxtaposition as a perfect cover for drug and gun trafficking. They would reside in Newark and Elizabeth, and watch over their interests indirectly, never having to worry about being pinched at the scene.

Back in the late 80's a vast wave of Russian immigrants came to Manhattan. They called themselves the Stoyevski family after their crime-boss, Demetri Stoyevski. Their criminal fraternity controlled all of the underground casinos and illegal gambling in the downtown area. They chose Chinatown, just like the Mafia as a front for their seedy businesses. All of a sudden nightclubs began popping up within the markets of Chinatown.

Chinatown had become overcrowded entering into the 2000's. Police did not waste time or manpower in keeping four gangs out of such a small part of downtown Manhattan. Soon law enforcer had little to no presence, and the simple people who lived under the Triad's long sovereign rule could not safely walk down the street. The 9er's and the Stoyevski Family made a warzone out of the old Chinese village. The Chinese families that had lived there for years did not leave, but hunkered-down, hiding in their homes.

Gangbangers and Drug-dealers rule the streets.

“And that is why fate placed you here, Philip Dresden-"

"Don't call me that."

"That is why you saved my only living grandson from our nightmares."

"No one can know who I really am."

"No one will ever know but me."

"Thank you, Sensei."

"I promised your Grandfather, just as he had foreseen."

"How could he possibly have known I would ever be here?"

"The power of the Flood should never be underestimated."

The old him would have said screw the power of the Flood. But he was not Philip anymore. He was Jack. And in a world full of darkness, Jack looked for hope. "I will bring this town back from the lost."

"Then you must make it known to your enemies, when the families meet tonight at the Slaughterhouse Hall."

"I will end this all tonight."

"Go forth. DarkFlood!"

Jack turned around. This was a new feeling. He was not being called Jack. He was not being called Philip. He was not being called Colonel. He was not being called Sir. He was being called something else entirely.

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Sensei continued, "If you do not do this right, you may change things more than you can control."

"They deserve to die."

"Do what you must."

"Thank you, Sensei."

"If I am not here in the future there is something you must know."

Jack had a inkling his master knew tragedy was coming.

"All that you seek is not here, but in temple."

"What?"

"There will come a day when I am not here-"

"Don't say that."

"If the time comes you will have questions beyond understanding. They will be found not here in New York City, but in the East."

"Where?"

"Flood technique is not just a family heirloom. It was once a religion. It is many things. But mainly an idea. The temple explains all."

"Where is the temple, Sensei?"

"Only it can tell you."

"Am I suppose to believe that bullshit?"

"Not right now, no."

"What am I suppose to do then?"

"Go out and rid this city of the wicked."

The strange old Chinese man led Jack to the slaughterhouse building, where they held their biggest meetings. The only time they would all be found in one location. All of the heads of the families. If a cop was here, he would be useless. Jack had to think about this carefully. It had to be either quick and big or quiet and hidden.

Jack stood still and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and teleported behind the 9er's King Pin. He grabbed the big man king pin and teleported back up into the rafters. He snapped the 350 lbs. Armani suit wearing gangsta’s neck and took his gun. Jack checked the clip of his silver .50 Desert Eagle. It was full. He loaded the chamber and had already turned back. He pulled out his other pistol.

Jack checked his watch as he held both pistols crossed over before him. It was time. Jack then closed his eyes and teleported once again. This time he materialized standing at the center of the meat table they were all sitting at. Jack began firing at the heads of the Stoyevski family right next to him on both sides. The bodyguards jumped in front of Demetri Stoyevski, but that did not save him. The bullets kept coming, putting them all down. He almost emptied the clips, straightened his arms out, and disappeared. They all continued shooting in his absence at the center of the table their bullets hit each other and dropped the remaining Stoyevskis and 9ers.

The Triads were not there. This was alarming. Jack reappeared with his back against the wall, only 2 more bullets in his guns. The Mafia Don got up and was walking towards Jack with his boys. They had bats, and clubs, guns, and knives. The Mafia Don himself was laughing.

"You did me a favor," he jested, "Whoever you are!?" He fired on Jack along with the rest of his crew. Two had automatic pistols, together they drilled apart the wall Jack was hiding behind.

Jack took a deep breath. He stood up and fired the two shoots. From each gun they sailed straight forward from his arms into their goomba faces. And then DarkFlood disappeared. The guns fell to the floor. The Mafia Don stood confused with his boys. They looked around and stayed alert.

Little did they know that Jack was sneaking around them in camouflage. He found a blade from the ground and tip-toed up against one of the remaining goons. He put the knife through the back of his throat, cutting his voice-box and keeping him from screaming. Jack grabbed the gun in the mobster's dying hand and began firing it on the rest of the gangsters. He killed them all before they could act, everyone except for the Mafia Don. He left him armless and crippled on the ground. The gangs would scramble after this. It would all be blamed on the Triads. Jack should have realized this before he started his assault.

Time moving forward is time spent not reliving your mistakes.

He gathered what little evidence he left. Luckily, most of them had drugs like cocaine on them, and identification. The police would have a field day with this one. DarkFlood left as if he was never there. An unseen presence watching, guarding the innocent, ridding the world of evil. He asked for no recognition or thanks, just for privacy and freedom to do what he must, to do what others could not.

Jack left the place without a hint he was there, or any trace back to him. He was in the clear. Now he focused on the Triads. What would happen to them now that all the heads of the other families were dead? He must find Sensei, before it was too late. Jack hurried back to his small apartment in Chinatown, NYC.

A war was coming, one in the streets. A day was near where DarkFlood will no longer go hidden in the shadow. He had stirred the cauldron, the tides were shifted beyond repair. The streets would flood with gangsters and criminals rioting their leaders' deaths. Rampaging through the Triads and Chinatown district; all because of what Jack did.