Captain Uni — Roleplayer Guild

10:37 PM; December 23rd
Rose Blossom Tea House; New York CityISSUE #17
AN ECHO OF THE PAST

The Beretta under my coat shifted nervously, the hot lead in the clip burning a hole through the kevlar vest under my shirt and into my flesh. I took a sip from the cup of tea I had ordered, eyes scanning the room over for the men. Micro told me a group of the Xuè Shǎn triad would be meeting here tonight. Ever since I effectively toppled the Maggia pecking order other groups of crooks have stepped in to try and fill the hole in the criminal underworld I had created, and since I got back to New York I've been making sure organized crime was weak. 

It hasn't been easy for me since I came back into town, what with Osborn showing off his Goblins to pick off any vigilantes, but I've ducked under the radar pretty effectively for the most part. Another guy is trying to step into the underworld too, calling himself the Octopus. And I thought that Dave picked a stupid codename. Spider-Woman seems to be keeping him busy thankfully, but one of these days I'm going to have to gun after him myself.

I blink a few times to clear my head of all these thoughts. I need to focus, lest the Xuè Shǎn slip in without me noticing. Dave said they all had tattoos on their necks, red lightning bolts. Guess they're fans of the Flash or something. I keep my eye peeled for them, already twitching to pull out my guns and start shooting at the first sign of trouble. But no triad have walked through the door yet. It's just me and the customers...

At least until a familiar face walks through the door.

I haven't seen him in nearly half a year. He's cleaned up and walks with a limp, but I know who he is. Judging by the way he falters when he sees my sitting there, he remembers too. The assassin from Roscoe Street Station. I had Micro look into the guy as best he could from my vague descriptions. All we got was a name: Billy Russo. I had been waiting for the day our paths would cross again. The charming smile he put on when talking to the host falls. I give him a shark's grin to make up for it. I'm not sure if he's part of why I'm here tonight, but if he is, I'm gonna deal with him.

As if on cue, the triad walk in not long after he does. He stands as they begin to head to the back room of the tea house. He exchanges a few words with one of the guys, and points me out. I already know what he's saying. I stand up and pull one of my Berettas from its holster, firing off a shot at the man Russo was speaking to. The man falls to the ground as a squirt of blood flies into the air, and the customers are already screaming and running as I shout, "GET OUT OF HERE!"

Bullets fly through the air, destroying tea cups and pots and chairs and tables as they fail to hit me. I leap out of the way and behind a pillar for cover. The civilians are running and there's a group of seven guys on the other side of the room who want to see me dead. Hm. Me versus a bunch of guys in a heated gun fight where I'm outnumbered and outgunned? This isn't ringing any bells at all. Whatever. No time for jokes. Time to act.

I fire blindly from cover to encourage the guys to dive into their own. The teahouse is a cacophony of gunshots and property damage. I roll out of my cover and behind a booth, peeking around it to see that the scumbags are all hiding as well. Chancing it, I run out of cover and fire, managing to make one of them scramble out to try and get a good shot; he goes down with a couple of shots to the torso. I slide behind a tea cart, bullets striking it and causing a porcelain pot of ginseng to shatter on the floor.

I push the cart forward with one arm while using the other to fire in the general direction of the triad. I hear one shout in pain, guess I got lucky. Before long I'm not too far from them but my Beretta is out. I reload it and pull the other Beretta from its holster, and with two guns in hands I run towards the group's cover. One of them rises to get a shot as I jump onto the booth, and as I leap into the air I put him down with a few well placed shots. While going down I fire off another couple of rounds, putting down two of the triad. Three left.

I pull myself to my feet as they do the same. One of them rushes at me with a haymaker. I duck out of the way and stick the pistol to his head as he runs past me, putting him down with a *BANG!*. I rush towards the other one, who raises his pistol to try and get a shot off. I bat it out of the way with one of mine while pointing the other one at his gut and firing once, twice, three times, before leveling the other Beretta at his head and firing.

I suddenly remember Russo when I feel a bullet strike my left arm. I twist around in a crouch, firing off a round that hits Russo in the gun arm. He picks himself up and throws himself at me before I can react, and I drop my Berettas as the two of us fall to the ground. We begin to struggle, grappling each other and trying to subdue the other. Sometimes I manage to claw his face a bit, other times he gets a few good punches to my head.

I finally throw a kick around that catches him in the jaw, dislocating it and disorienting him enough for me to get on top and punch him a few times to make sure he's out for the count. "Billy! Long time no see, pal." I pull him off the ground and drag him over to a window. "Now last time, I went easy on you, but you still didn't learn your lesson. So now I'm gonna make sure you never forget, because I'm about to give you something to remember me by..." I punch the window out and grab a jagged piece of glass...

*Ssssss-shhhhhlcht!*

Russo screams as I cut into his face. It doesn't sound like he's giving it his all. So I put a bit more punch into it. That gets him going.

By the time I'm done his pretty face resembles a Jigsaw puzzle with the pieces in the wrong places more than anything else. I toss the blood-covered glass shard away, before leaning down and grabbing his head so that we can look eye to eye. "If I ever see you around again, Russo, I will fucking gut you and hang you by your own intestines. Do you understand me?" I'll have to take that groan as a 'yes'. I drop his head. "Good."

I leave the blood-soaked tea house behind with a spring in my step, satisfied with a job well done.
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The Artist Formerly Known As Simple Unicycle

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