Control (TBC)

Who: Jakob and Johnny
Where: Chinatown
When: Late

Chinatown never slept, this much was true. In fact, while the whole of the city somehow maintained a steady ebb and flow at any hour of the night? Chinatown thrived. Walking down the right street could lead you to the open air markets, where the paper lanterns hung low to give purchasers the best possible glimpses of fresh catches from the waterfront, or crates of vegetables brought in from beyond the city. It could take you to the slaughterhouses that fed a great deal of the city, and their steady stream of foot and bicycle traffic that led workers in and out. It could even land you among the laundry mills, bathing the streets in the smell of steam and soap, washing them with light that spilled from open doorways, the only way to vent enough heat from the laundries to keep the workers from passing out.

On this particular night? The crucial street in this ever-growing swath of town was a small one, barely wide enough to accomodate a car's width and glowing with the light from countless curio shops that ran either end. Furniture makers, art dealers, purveyors of antiques, and more... they were mostly fronts. What truly mattered in these shops was the back rooms, the basements, the second floors. It was where the Jade Lotus held their sway, ruling their neighborhood street by street behind a mask of legitimate business. And tonight, it was a stage that had been set by a man they seldom dealt with.

By day, the shop was a teahouse; a small eatery with an expansive back courtyard, and every bit of furnishing was finely crafted. After dark, though, it was a meeting place among the Lotus, watched over by one of their lieutenants, and he was a man who'd recognized the value of a favor to cash in. People called him Mr. Wu, and if he had more of a name? It wasn't known by the lower ranks of the Lotus. Wu didn't seem to be of any mind to share it tonight, either, as he sat in the second floor room of his teahouse, seated around a large table with his soldiers. He was the picture of unassuming nature, content and wordless as he reached for a mahjong tile among the others stacked on the table, lightly plucking it away and setting it with the others.

Behind him was a small gas stove, a kettle heating on a low flame as an attendant waited patiently, and Wu's only glance away from his game was to raise his cup to one side. He grunted softly in approval as it was refilled, plucking a pocket watch free to look at the time. His runner had been dispatched to fetch Arun Tang, and the boy needed a beating if this was how slow he chose to perform his task.

Johnny's brother had tried to keep him under house arrest. Johnny hadn't exactly been complaining either, even though his Father had seen fit to give him a black eye and then the silent treatment when the news had broken that Arun Tang had a price on his head. His brother had shoved him into their spare bedroom with a look of such disgust and had then preceded to spit on Johnny's shoes. "You bring nothing but shame to our name, do you know that?" he'd whispered - because the whole thing was touchy. It wouldn't do any good to the morale of their unit if they let Johnny be slaughtered. They had to protect their own. Even if their own were arrogant, foolish playboys.

That had been hours ago though, and aside from his sister nervously bringing him a bowl of dumplings he'd been left to his own devices and was bored as hell. It was around nightfall when he decided, screw it, the whole thing was probably overblown anyway, and trampled down the stairs of the Lucky White Laundry and found one of his boys leaning by the front door, smoking and looking nervous. It was a lot quieter than usual around the Lucky White. In the underworld stigma was pretty damn quick to rub off on a place.

"Johnny, man, shouldn't you be in hiding?" said Pau gruffly as Johnny approached, and Johnny didn't hesitate to slap the upside of his head. "No, fuckwit, I ain't gonna hide from no-one. I'm untouchable. You fuckin' moron." Johnny spat, swiping the cigarette from the man's mouth and slipping it between his own lips. Then, from just around the corner, where the laundry ended and alleyway began, a reedy voice whispered "Untouchable? I don't believe this is the case, Mister Tang," and suddenly shit was hazy. Pau was slumped with a bullet from a silencer in his gut, and Johnny had hands clamped over his eyes and mouth. He kicked out a couple times but things went dark. The last thing he thought was "Holy fucking shit, right outside my parent's place."

Of course, Johnny's brother and father had figured Johnny would get bored and sneak off outside. It was all just a matter of playing a careful waiting game. Johnny was not a boy who could do careful. This much was apparent. And a liability to one faction of Lotus? Was a liability to them all. But Johnny'd probably never be able to work any of that out. All he could really work out when he finally had the bag pulled from his head was that he was in a massive world of "oh, shit"

He wasn't alone at the table, not by half, and what was worse? Was that he was surrounded by familiar faces. Johnny's crew, the rag-tag handful of them, had been tucked into chairs all around the table, and the only face that wasn't a standard one among them was Wu, sitting impassively across from Johnny with a hand raised, fingers gently stroking the white wisp of beard on his chin. Wu was, in addition to Johnny, also the only one who didn't look absolutely terrified, and when the panic manifested in Johnny's eyes, the elder Lotus smiled thinly.

"Little boy," he purred in Mandarin, "You have found the gaze of devils. And you face them. Do not scream." Wu rose from the table, moving with a slow gait towards the door and smiling wider beyond Johnny, a look aimed past him at someone who lurked out of sight. He stepped from the room without another word, shutting the heavy door behind him and revealing that behind it? Stood Jakob. Jakob with a smile curled across his lips that would make most peoples' blood run cold. His hands were gloved, each glove curled tight around a revolver, and he wasted no time in stepping up behind Johnny, pushing one gun to the back of his head, and thumbing back the hammer with a satisfying click. "Hello, Johnny," Jakob growled, "Would you like to play a game?"

Johnny thought he might actually wet himself. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. "Not really," he said hoarsley, trying not to catch the eye of any of the other men sitting around the table. His throat was dry and clenching, "Look, man, my family... don't fucking kill me. You want whatever reward you got promised, whatever, they'll double it... just...yeah..." he trailed off. Everything was a white haze of terror and he couldn't think of much anything that wasn't oh shit I don't want to die.

"Let me frame the offer another way," Jakob told him, smiling viciously at the men who worked for Johnny as they stared at him in terror. "We can play, or I can put five bullets in your stomach and see to it that your last days in the hospital are filled with agony you cannot imagine. I can promise that your colostomy bag will be hooked up wrong, and that your death will be caused by your own shit seeping through your body, poisoning you." He chuckled throatily, idly counting the heads of the men gathered before him. "It's not about money, Arun Tang. It's about control. You acted as though you held the reins, and you must realize that you do not. So you can try to flee, and Wu's men will bleed you dry. You can refuse, and I will execute you myself. Or you can embrace the chance you've been offered. Now," he purred, his voice leveling off, "Which of your men do you trust most? And which do you trust least?"

"Max," said Johnny without even a breath of hesitation. Fuck it, you didn't mess with a guy who had a gun on you. Not if you were tied up and out of your depth. Not if he was singing about filling you with lead. That was retarded. "I trust Max the most. But there ain't one of 'em that I don't trust. All of 'em got my back." Max had been the first kid from the neighbourhood Johnny'd managed to get to follow him around. The boys knew Max was Johnny's top guy - wasn't no secrets with The Golden Boys. "Who are you man? Don't do this. You're gonna have my family on your head if you fuck wit us. My father's an important man in these parts, yeah?"

Jakob laughed richly as he crouched down on the balls of his feet, keeping his guns trained in their respective spots and leaning up on the back of Johnny's ear. "I have a secret for you," he whispered, "Your daddy's not here... time to show you what real control is." He chuckled more quietly, a wash of breath in Johnny's ear as Jakob stood tall and waved to Max with the pistol he'd stolen from the evidence lockers. "You there, Max," he said, waving for the unrestrained man to stand, "Fetch the kettle from the burner. Bring it over and pour it in Johnny's lap. He's been misusing his bits, and they must be filthy. Let's clean them up."

It was all about obedience through fear, and Jakob wondered if he'd have to kill this man to instill that fear in the others, watching Max with cold eyes for a drawn out moment. "Very good," he purred as the lanky Asian moved to the little stovetop, grabbing the kettle and walking towards Johnny, his face flush with sick uncertainty. "I, Johnny, am no one you'd wish to know," Jakob told him, stepping back enough to keep Max from surprising him as he moved closer, "I am someone who does not fear your father, or your friends, or their friends. And I've been looking forward to teaching you." He clicked his tongue as the kettle was raised, eyes flashing in response to the panic Max wore. "Or... you can set the kettle down, yes? And go to retrieve the revolver you took during your... exploits the other night. Which would you prefer Max to do?" he asked Johnny, thinking he knew the answer.

Johnny shook his head with disbelief, figuring that Max probably wouldn't do it - because hell if they got outta this and Max had dumped scalding water on his groin? Max'd be dead. Either way Max knew it was death - and Johnny's brand of death involved a heavier beating than just a bullet to the skull. But Johnny didn't exactly wanna have to prove that. The gun though... Jesus. Did they even still have the gun? He was pretty sure he'd ditched it down a sewer after they'd finished with the bitch. "I don't know what gun you mean, man. Only gun I got is my own, and that ain't here, otherwise I would'a shot that fuckass you sent to come get me!" Johnny yelped with the edge of panic pretty obvious in his voice.

Feigning consideration for a moment, Jakob put an expression on that seemed to ease Max's pain, a little smile and a nod of understanding as he waited and the Lotus goon did nothing. "Fair enough. Put the kettle down, Max." He waited until the tea pot had been set on the table before one gun lowered, barking out a shot that made every man but Jakob jump as he fired into the top of Max's foot, dropping him to the ground with a howl of pain. Jakob just smiled pleasantly, waiting for the howl to turn into choked groans before he clicked the pistol's hammer back again, aiming at the next man seated near Johnny. "Now then, you," he said pleasantly, "Pick up the kettle. Pour it into your boss' lap, and your friend's wound. Or? Find me the revolver I'm asking for. A .38 caliber revolver, police issue, just like this one." Just for a moment, Jakob dipped the gun up from Johnny's head to let them all see it, giving the implications a moment to sink in.

The fun was about to start...