g**g Wars

Chapter 1

Clover court was usually a thickly crowded area, bustling with people looking to make friends with their neighbors or navigating their way to a party. The people were friendly and outgoing, sharing their food, money, and time. But that was during the day. The buzz and joy of the lane simmer down once the clock hits twelve, for everyone knew that it was around this time that the members of the gangs nearby came out to have their share of fun.

Andrew adjusted his cap as he walked down the lane, keeping an eye out for anyone nearby who was not a resident of the area. The alley was silent but not empty. At two in the morning, the common folks were asleep. The ones peddling drugs, however, were not. Andrew needed to stay away from them. But having just come out of a house where a g**g member had just died raises suspicion.

He carefully avoided the puddles of water that decorated the road, the only proof of the previous night's rain. He touched his pocket, feeling the paper that sat in snugly. He had gotten the info he needed, and now, he had to get out of here.

"Andrew, they're everywhere." Michael's voice was heard through the earbud. Andrew didn't need Michael to tell him he was being followed. He had already seen the shadows. Clearly, the ones following have no intention of hiding themselves.

"They're fully armed," Michael added.

's**t,' Andrew thought. 'I gotta get out of here.'

Andrew was strong, no doubt. After years of running away from authority and training in multiple martial arts, he was certainly a force to be reckoned with. But even this amount of force would be inefficient against a large group such as this.

"Call me," Andrew whispered.

"Call you? Are you insane? You'll just gather attention." Michael replied, urgency clear in his voice.

"That's the point. Just do it."

A sigh was heard from the other side. "You're going to get yourself killed."

Andrew ignored the last part as he kept walking, never slowing down. He only had to wait two seconds before his phone rang, the ringtone echoing throughout the alley. He picked up the phone, and in his loudest voice, he answered, "Hey, buddy, wassup!"

Silence reigned again. The multiple people onlooking in confusion. Andrew let out a fake laugh, leading the act on.

"Yeah, I'm in this super dark alley, and it's so cool, like it's amazing, bro. You should totally check this place out." He continued in a loud, obnoxious voice.

He could imagine the look on their faces. To them, Andrew would just seem like an i***t, shouting in a silent lane known for the presence of d**g dealers and g**g members. Simple, a foolish man, garnering unwanted attention, looking to get himself killed. It would be the last thing an actual g**g member would do. And whilst ignorant tourists were the perfect victim, they were not what these people were here for. Andrew hoped that those following him would think the same. That this was just an ignorant tourist, none of their concern. He kept up the act, speaking in loud voices, but not loud enough to wake the residents. But even if they did wake up, they knew better than to walk out in the night.

Andrew knew his plan succeeded, when he heard footsteps retreat, the voices getting lower by the moment. Still, he didn't risk it. He continued his chats to his 'friend' till he reached Aurora avenue, a busy road. He cut the call and turned right, to where he was had parked his car. Getting in, he put the key in, started the ignition, and drove to the main house.

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The main house was located far from civilization. Deep in a forest, away from the eyes of the authority. In other words, the Naperville police department, NPD. Unlike the other gangs that ruled certain areas of Illinois, White Rose, the g**g Andrew is a part of, wasn't one that had bought the nearby police departments to avoid getting caught. This was simply because this was the only g**g that had nothing the police could hold against them. This little fact made Andrew highly proud to be part of this small organization. It's what they liked to call themselves. They were more of an organization than a g**g.

The house was highly secured. White Rose had their team of snipers on looking the building, with two armed men patrolling every entrance. Andrew entered through the main door, greeting the patrollers with a nod. The door lead to the hall where the members had either fallen asleep drunk or were awake, talking in hushed whispers. The ones awake acknowledged Andrew, who was about to greet them back when a man ran towards him, screaming.

"I can't believe that worked!"

"Thank you for your assistance, Michael," Andrew said, his face devoid of any visible emotions.

Michael puffed up his chest, breathing in, "Always. Good work out there. Got anything good?"

"More than good," Andrew replied, "Where's Grant?"

"Boss is in his office," Michael pointed towards a door on the opposite side of the hall. "He's with that police guy."

Andrew nodded, before walking towards the door, and opening it.

"I'm telling you, our g**g has nothing to do with this." Andrew heard it before he saw it. He recognized the voice as Grant's. Inside the room sat Grant and the police guy. Grant was on his foot, his hand on the table, as though he had slammed it.

"He was a member of your gang." The man in the police suit said, calmly.

"Yes, but why would we kill him?" Grant asked, his eyes shining with annoyance.

"You're supposed to be answering that question."

Andrew cleared his throat, intending to get their attention. Grant looked up, his face lighting up.

"Oh good, Andrew, you're back." He said.

The police officer turned around in his seat before standing up and extending a hand to Andrew.

"You must be Andrew Russo, the second in command? I'm Jackson Matthews, Nashville Police Department. Nice to meet you."

Andrew accepted the handshaking, only humming in response.

"Not a man of many words, is he?" Jackson asked.

"Please tell me you got something good from the house" Grant pleaded, ignoring Jackson.

Andrew nodded, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket and resting it on the table. "This was in the house, right where his body was found. I'm guessing they entered after the body was taken out and left it so that the police couldn't find it."

Grant and Jackson looked down onto the paper, their eyes widening.

On the paper was written:

Sorry, we don't spare traitors.

You made a big mistake with this one, White Rose, we don't spare people who send in spies either.

We're coming for you :)

-B

"The Beasts," Jackson muttered.

"Of course," Grant said, leaning back on his chair, crossing his arm. He turned to Jackson, "The beasts were the ones who killed Nate. Not us. This should be proof enough."

Jackson sighed, "They say they don't spare traitors. So Nate was one?"

Andrew shook his head, "We didn't send anyone to spy on The Beasts."

"Then what did they mean by a traitor?"

Grant shrugged, "I don't know, I wasn't even aware that Nate had joined The Beasts."

Jackson gave him a look, "What a wonderful leader." Grant glared at the officer.

"It's a misunderstanding then," Andrew said.

Grant nodded, "We didn't send him as a spy. If they are coming for us due to this, then we better get it sorted out with them, We won't be able to survive a fight with the biggest g**g in America."

"I'm sure you can win if you tried," Jackson rested his head on his hand, his elbow on the table.

Andrew shook his head, "Too many casualties. This fight isn't going to end with just a few deaths. It'll be war. White rose promises safety to the highest degree possible for a g**g. We'll prevent any possibilities of mass death."

"Then you guys better talk to their leader as soon as possible."

"No one asked for your advice," Grant muttered, receiving a glare from Jackson.

Andrew pulled up a chair and sat down opposite Grant and beside Jackson, "There's a problem."

The two men looked at Andrew, eyebrows raised.

"Nate wasn't working for us. And if The Beasts killed him, then he wasn't working for them either."

A look of realization spread on the two faces. Jackson spoke up, "Are you suggesting he was working for a third party?"

Andrew nodded, "It's a possibility."

"Then this goes farther than a simple fight between the gangs, If an outside g**g is related, then it's bad for both The Beasts and us. Information about our g**g is compromised. Find out all the information Nate has access to, and tell me if any of them is anything major."

"Will do," Andrew replied.

"When did Nate join your g**g?" Jackson asked. Andrew stood and walked to the shelf that held his bag. He fished for his tablet, taking it out and switching it on. It has all the records of all the members of the White Rose g**g, throughout history. It held all information on every single member, ranging from the joining date to all accomplishments and failures.

Scrolling past a few names, he ended up on the name he was looking for. "Nathaniel Richards." He started, "Joined on 12 June 2015, managed to defeat Thomson in a duel, fastest assignment to the g**g ever."

"Impressive," Grant muttered.

"2015," Jackson said, "Did anything special happen that year?"

Andrew looked at Grant, who sighed.

"Quite a lot."

Jackson raised his brow.

"It was the year of the great d**g bust. Multiple gangs across the USA were busted for the possession of drugs. It was the largest amount of drugs ever found in possession in a single country. Led to the disbanding of the then biggest gangs, except of course."

"Why haven't I heard about it then?"

"Because," Grant smirked, "The incident was so big, Victor f*****g Giordano came out of his little hiding spot in Italy. Bought the police, and buried the entire incident six feet deep."

"Victor? Who's that?"

"Victor Vincent Giordano. The Head and founder of The Giordano g**g. The biggest distributor of drugs in the world. Most gangs in the country get the drugs from them before selling it to the smaller gangs."

"They're still the biggest?"

"They have a lot of money and power. Though he was a bit late because by then, almost all gangs had disappeared. Either they ran away and hid, or they were arrested."

"How did you guys survive then?"

"We don't sell or buy drugs," Andrew answered. Jackon crossed his arm. Andrew guessed the officer was trying to figure out whether to believe it or not.

"Well, seeing as I've been here a while and have seen nothing related to drugs, I'll choose to believe it," Jackson said, uncrossing his arm.

"It was also the year Victor gave us a visit."

"Victor came here?" Jackon leaned forward. Grant and Andrew nodded.

"He wanted an alliance to form between The Giordano and White rose. We were the only ones who weren't in trouble then. I suppose he wanted no survivors." Grant replied.

"Then maybe Victor sent Nate since you guys refused," Jackson suggested.

Andrew shrugged, "Again, it's a possibility."

"Why would Victor send a spy to both us and The Beasts?" Grant asked.

"Maybe he just wanted to keep an eye on you guys."

"Could be. But if it really is Victor then there's not a lot we can do. Compared to him, we're ants. Let's focus on the current problem. We need to start negotiations." Grant said.

"That's your job." Jackson grinned.

Grant clicked his tongue, "Why are you still here? You've got your answer. The beasts are responsible for the murder."

"Oh hell no," Jackson shook his head, "If you're suggesting I go arrest the leader of Beasts. I'll have you know that if I do that, I'll be killed."

"All the more reason to do just that."

Jackson sighed, "I just wanna see this through. Besides, if all goes wrong, I can always arrest you. At the very least, I can expect this g**g to not buy off the police."

Grant stared blankly at Jackson for a while before getting up, "You know what? If you're so eager, then feel free to stay."

Jackson blinked, "That was surprisingly fast."

"Maybe from the fight, or by my own hands. Either way, you'll die, and that's a day I can't wait for."

Jackson rolled his eyes.

Just then, Michael slammed the door open, bending down, trying to catch air. Grant rubbed his forehead, "Michael, what did I say about knocking?"

"Sorry boss," He said, panting, "But we caught a guy snooping around the building."

Grant threw his head back, groaning, "Great. Absolutely f*****g great."