Black Market Merchant

“Ke-ke-ke, circle around the block and press them back!” Crows Beak cackled to his forces. “Make sure they don’t double back and try to circle towards the way they came!”

A dozen of the Skull’s headed his orders and started running down the street. Crows Beak watched them go as another bullet struck the brick building corner he was using as cover. The bullets impact did nothing to make him flinch. The past two days head been on hellish battle after the next and as a result many had grown accustomed to the close brushes with death, Crows Beak being no exception.

It was clear neither side had anticipated the fighting to have gone on this long. In the days prior the two gangs had been fighting tooth and nail to remain one step ahead of the other. It was now the start of the third day and the sound of battle was already ringing in everyone’s ears.

The Skull had been pressing the Mad Dogs to keep moving in a lateral direct, away from the Main Street bridge that Crows Beak watched over. This was not good for the Mad Dogs under Hugo, because they originally were going to cross that bridge and circle behind the Skull fighting under Stitches and Steel Fist’s command and then with Ernest’s forces pressing into the city, crush the Skull.

This was all as Bone Dust predicted the flow of battle might go. Soon, Hugo’s forces would be pushed into sight of the stadiums high circular wall. If Hugo hadn’t figured out the Skulls plan yet, Bone Dust assumed they would go for the stadium to use its narrow passages and limited entryways to fend off the Skull. However, that was all a trap.

“Ke-ke-ke, lets see who my target is now.” Crows Beak cackled to himself.

He then peeked carefully around a chunk of missing brick to spy on the Mad Dogs scattered and hidden among the rubble. The Mad Dogs had taken over a warehouse building that once held display automobiles for a car dealership. From there they were funneling their exhausted forces to the streets behind. The road between Crows Beak and these Mad Dogs was littered with collapsed portions of buildings, smoke, and inconsistent gunfire. This area had also succumbed to numerous bombing from the air raids years ago and made for a harsh battle ground with many avenues of attack or counterattacks.

From his vantage point Crows Beak spotted a thickly statured man and recognized him right away as Hugo. The two of them had been playing a game of tag the entire battle. Each man would target the other, be it with guns or with troops, and only stop once the other retreated.

“Let’s see you block me this time.” Crows Beak sneered.

Crows Beak then quickly notched an arrow into his heavy compound bow, painted as black as the feathers on his cloak. His bow’s statistics exceeded that of any normal bow. His custom bow has a string test strength of 60 kilograms, capable of reaching arrow speeds of 130 meters per second and traveling twice the distance of any arrow due to the tight curve of the arrow’s feathers.

Pulling this dangerous black bow back tight near his cheek, Crows Beak stepped out from the corner and let it loose. Without checking to see if his arrow had reached its mark, he ducked back behind the brick walls cover knowing bullets would be chasing after him. Sure enough, a myriad of bullets from a machine guns riddled the ground and wall.

Crows Beak took another glance around the wall to see just as Hugo was lowering his weapon and raising his free hand to flick off Crows Beak, despite not knowing where he was hiding. Crows Beak clicked his tongue sharply with annoyance. “Damn that riot gantlet. He’s got too much of a fighter’s intuition to die easily. I’ll get you soon enough.”

In response to the shots fired on Crows Beak’s location the Skull, hidden behind windows and on rooftops, returned fire. The street once again broke out into dusty chaos and Crows Beak lost sight of Hugo amidst it all.

Turning away from watching the fight Crows Beak spoke to those left with him. “Spread out among the building where our forces are thin and don’t hold out on attacking. We need to keep them moving back.”

“Yes, boss.” The gangsters chanted before dispersing.

Crows Beak then flopped down onto all fours and started scurrying across the rubble strewn street and after the men he had sent out earlier. “Let’s try getting ahead of you this time, Hugo. Ke-ke-ke! If I can’t get you then, my last chance will be at the stadium.”

…

Hugo finished closing his riot gauntlet and flicking off Crows Beak before retreating inside the car warehouse. His riot gauntlet was a rare weapon of choice for most people. Acting doubly as a shield and weapon this arm strapped device could open as a circular shield to cover the user’s torso, head, and upper thighs stopping with ease small arms fire and handheld weapons. Upon opening it would also expose the serrated edge of the shield that could be used to cut anyone hit by it. Additionally, when closed the serrated edges formed a short sword fixed to the user’s forearm’s topside. The riot gauntlet was a popular unconventional tool used by riot police and National Guard forces.

Going deeper into the back of the car warehouse Hugo found his top subordinates were dishing out orders for reinforcements to be deployed in key places, dealing with the wounded, and dealing with the ammo situation. They had been pulled far away from their initial supply lines and with the battles getting harder pressed, resupplies were far and few between.

“Hugo! Over here.” One of the gangsters called to him from a crate. Before the gangster on the crate was a crude map of the city streets. As Hugo jogged over to join him the man continued speaking. “We are not going to make it to the Main Street bridge at this rate. We only have the stadium bridge to try and cross. The scouts just got back and say the rest of the bridges are indeed destroyed.”

“Seriously?” Hugo sighed heavily. “What is the Skull doing in that area? Its not far from where Ernest is invading from, and I doubt they left it unsupervised.”

“The scouts say that they think the bridge is only being guarded by a skeleton crew.” The subordinate replied. “The Skull apparently are only on the far side of the bridge, and none are watching over the stadium itself.”

“Is that so?” Hugo replied looking quizzically at the crude map. “Why would they do that?”

“So, what is our next move going to be?” The man asked.

“Give me a walkie-talkie. We should be in range of the barge’s signal, and I need to hear how the other fronts are faring.” Hugo ordered and the gangster handed him one from a backpack next to the crude map.

“This is Hugo calling Ernest, do you read me?” Hugo called.

Seconds passed and Ernest’s voice responded. “Ernest here. What do you want?”

“I need some information as to how far you’ve gone into the city, what areas are burning and what the enemy is doing.” Hugo replied promptly.

“What for? Are you guys finally going to show up over here?” Ernest scoffed.

Hugo hatted the young lieutenant’s attitude but replied anyhow. “Yes, what you tell me will determine my next move.”

“That so. About time.” Ernest sighed. “We started off pushing in several blocks from the docks, but we hit a stalemate and neither side can gain any ground. I’m just chilling right now waiting for the Skull to show up. It’s all been sniper fire for the last half day, so not much action.”

“What about the fire and their locations? I don’t really care what you are doing right now.” Hugo growled into the walkie-talkie.

“Geez, relax old dude. The fires have spread northward along the docks and two blocks deep into the city.” Ernest replied casually, but Hugo could tell the brat was smirking on the other side of the walkie-talkie. “We are scattered between blocks five and six to the west, covering two blocks north, and three blocks south. The Skull seem to have endured heavy casualties from my artillery. Yet we haven’t faired that much better thanks to, I presume, Stitches’ sniping team.”

“I see, so you haven’t passed the road leading to the stadium and the fires are still two blocks away from the gorge.” Hugo replied speaking aloud as he traced Ernest’s directions on the crude map with one finger. “Alright, we might be coming your way by the afternoon. Get ready to expect reinforcements from the northwest. We can still carry out the initial plan. Sit tight and be ready.”

“Finally, we can get this show on the road. I always wondered why Martinez keeps you in charge, you are just so slow. Over and out.” Ernest called back and the sound of the walkie-talkie clicking off told Hugo he probably turned it all the way off.

Hugo sighed and changed the walkie-talkie’s channel. “That kid is much too cocky. He’s going to get screwed one day.” Then into the walkie-talkie once again he called out, “This is Hugo calling Xander, do you read me?”

Almost immediately Xander replied. “I ready you. I was wondering when you were going to call.”

“We are going to be crossing the gorge soon at the stadium’s bridge. Not as far into downtown as planed but Ernest has a sizeable number of Skull that we can entrap, and the docks are burning smoothly too. We have sustained forty percent casualties, but deaths remain below twenty percent overall.” Hugo reported.

“Good. Things have been hard going here for us too, with similar casualties to boot. Even though we only needed to go five blocks, they were ready for us and put up a great fight.” Xander sighed. “Yet we finally reached the Skulls mall base and I’m looking through a window of some old law firm at Martinez and the Undertaker finally facing off in the parking lot around the building. The rest of the fighters have stopped, and we are waiting for them to stop trash talking each other and get this gang war over with already.”

Hugo could hear the distain in Xander’s voice, but he was glad to hear the battle was nearing a conclusion. “Understood. I’ll relay the news and get moving. Over and out.”

…

Xander heard the communication cutout on the walkie-talkie, and he returned his attention to the two prominent figures prepping to duel. He then nudged on of his special guards next to him and pointed at a couch in the law firms waiting room. “Hey, drag that couch over here and we can watch comfortably.”

As Xander waited for the special guard to bring the couch the two duelers were getting feisty. Their voices echoed across the parking lot and off the surrounding buildings walls. All eyes were watching expectantly as the two gang leaders decided the battle’s fate.

“It took you long enough to come out of your rat hole.” Martinez boomed.

“No, you were just taking too long to get here.” Undertaker quipped flashing a bright smile in contrast to his deep tan skin.

Martinez sneered and adjusted his obsidian Macuahuitl on his shoulder with anticipation. “If you would just fight like a leader, instead of the coward that you are, we could have settled this days ago. Not that it matters, in the end I will kill you.”

“Call me what you want, but I had more important things to deal with then to play with you.” Undertaker replied casually brushing back his natural white hair. The rising sunlight glinted off his ornate jewelry as he continued. “I had to clear a meeting with a client just to come and deal with you today.”

“Ha! Don’t act like you didn’t want to fight me.” Martinez laughed. He then slid the Macuahuitl off his shoulder and into both hands. “That smile and your eyes tell me that you have been wanting this fight to happen.”

Undertaker’s face remained frozen with his light, proud grin as it always did and yet the sadistic look in his eyes glowed like a forest fire. “I can’t lie about that.”

“Shall we make this an official Match Fight as well?” Martinez asked taking a cautious, but commanding step forward.

“Sure, why not. We will let our managers handle the details.” Undertaker responded by reaching down to his waist to unravel his favored weapon, a carbon fiber and nylon whip! Then in his free hand he pulled out a pure white Khepesh.

The Khepesh is an Egyptian sickle-shaped sword that has an inverted curved blade that begins curving part ways up the blade from the handle, much like a question mark. Originally designed from battle axes as a hacking weapon, this fifty-five-centimeter sword specializes in entrapping an opponent’s arm, weapon or shield making close range combat a challenge for most opponents.

“I can’t wait to hang that sword on my trophy wall.” Martinez announced taking a fighting stance.

“Your bones will make a nice foot stool for me. Try to die quickly for me while you are at it.” Undertaker countered as he started twirling the whip overhead.

Then the two charged, eager for slaughter.