IC: Down in the Puyallups VI, Someone fracking attacked the Mall Office! Options

[Redjack]

Saturday, March 28th, 2071@00:14:06: The Mall Office, The Crime Mall, 136th Street East & 122nd Avenue East, Puyallup Barrens, Seattle Metroplex
Zion

He had just brought the plastic cup to his lips for a drink of what was generously labelled beer, when the first explosion went off. Instincts took him back to the Tir, back to the border. He spring from the stool, sending it towards the wall as he moved towards the middle of the room: Best place to be if someone was trying for some salsa using the walls to concentrate the impact. Of course, in this case, if was concussion and flash bangs. As the concussion grenade impacted with his chest, Zion thought, Why is it always the things that go boom?

Grenades went off on either side of him: Someone had supplied the Feifán de lóng some explosives since the last two skirmishes. The plan was working: The gangers were focusing on him, the new leader of the Fly-Boys. While the Chinese gangers focused on him, his own gang was flanking them using squad tactics. Another grenade, this one too close, this one rattling his brain, momentarily confusing him.

Shouts. Screams. More explosions.

3-B was in his face. She smacked him, yelling his name. The stim patch was nearly immediate, clearing his thoughts. The tactical display showed the smoke was working to confuse the gangers. His sniper picking off any moving out the front of the smoke while the flanking members hosed out those seeking to clear the area via the sides; several now active claymore mines began to deal with anyone in retreat. It was a slaughter, but what they had done to 3-B's half brother required a message. That message, "[i]Mess with the Fly-Boys and we wipe you out to the last member" was delivered in spades. At the end of the day, 32 men, women and teens were killed that day.[/i]

Smoke. Gunfire. Screams. Confusion. Head meet table...

Word had traveled fast and the next month was quiet, eerily so. The Fly-Boys claimed one block deep and eight long into their former rivals territory. Other gangs claimed space in the new void. A new gang rose from the ashes of the last. They called themselves the Firebirds and quickly negotiated a truce and swore fealty to the Fly-Boys.

3-B had become his constant companion and paramour. She was young for a gang's first old-lady. Only one girl challenged her position, so bold as to proposition Zion in her presence. Zion had to pull her off the woman, else 3-B would have killed her; the girl's nose and jaw would never be right again as it was.

The last year had changed Zion. He thought the military had hardened him. He thought being a shadowrunner had hardened him. None prepared him for the task of fighting day in day out to maintain an area of about sixty square blocks. He had to give up his cushy place in Puyallup City and stay with the gang, mostly full time. Night time was when most encroachments occurred. Successes had been good for recruitment. He'd over doubled the gang to a roster of 37, but last month one of his lieutenants had to execute a traitor who was supplying information to mafia about the gang.

He was supposed to go to the Mall Office to meet a mafia capo named Anthony "Tony The Jew" Gotti. Didn't he already go there...?

More yelling, but the gunfire was slowing down. He opened his eyes. Smoke. Looking around, some people were on the ground, crawling away. The smoke was too thick to make out exactly what was going on but, his head clearing, he is in the Mall Office. Someone just fracking attacked the Mall Office!

3-B was back at the safehouse, but six of the Fly-Boys, including a Tig, a lieutenant were scattered around the Mall; The biomonitor for one was off-line: Scooter had been near the Mall entrance, an area now a burning wreck smelling like a sick barbeque.

<<@Zion [Tig] Zion - You there? Your biomonitor is kinda spazzing out.>>