Story of Spike

INTRO: 1

It was a lazy Sunday morning the night after, if you know what I mean and the warm rays of the sun were having a 2

cathartic effect. Spike reached for his coffee - flat white, his usual and Beverly the middle aged motherly waitress 3

who had been serving him the same thing for what seemed like forever knew this all to well. It was an unusual relationship4

they had formed over the years, she provided the food, the coffee and a place to sit with not too many questions and in 5

return he solved her problems. You would be surprised how many “problems” a 24/7 diner located in the poorer area of the 6

Jersey could have. As far as he was concerned it was an amicable relationship, he had outgrown this place years ago, he 7

had the cash, the girls, the guns and the respect, but this place reminded him of his roots and one doesn’t forget where 8

they come from - for Spike this was the essence of respect, both earned and received….. This curious train of thought9

took him back to his early days when he was just starting out running errands, boosting cars and dealing a little weed 10

for beer money. Back then for reasons still unknown a wannabe mobster whose name is already lost to the annals of 11

failed gangsters loosed his dogs on him, perhaps he could sense the potential or felt threatened but whatever it 12

was, whilst the pain was temporary the lessons learned were permanent…. he decided then that it was better 13

to live on your feet than die on your knees and that he would kneel down for no one ever again. It was around 14

this time that Byakuran, Don of the Millefiore Family came to his aid - gave him protection, equipped him and 15

gave him time to train. In return Spike had taken the last job he would ever hold and had pledged his loyalty, 16

his muscle, his intellect and had become what he remains today, a loyal Soldier for the Millefiore Family…. the 17

laughter of children in the diner shocked Spike back to the present, he smiled, such innocence. He mentally checked 18

what he was packing, both butterfly knives, Glock in the shoulder holder and the beretta in the ankle holster. He had 19

other tools of trade of course spread out across his safe houses, this was just his standard work kit. He checked his 20

watch, it was already way past payback time, he finished his coffee, got up smiled at Beverly waving goodbye and strode21

out the door, it was time for the next fool to learn his lesson that it is stupid to fuck with the MF…22

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Spike yawned, stretched his arms and felt the unfamiliar weight of his chosen weapon for the evening, the Desert Eagle 24

0.50 cal semi automatic handgun weigh him down. It had been a long night already, profitable but long. A couple of boosts25

from the local lock up, a few bucks from a few jobs and his girls were all out working, yes all in all it was good night.26

As he reached for his coffee he caught the eye of the waitress and motioned for a refill – she smiled and started to make 27

her way over….yes she was very sweet and he made a mental note to remember to ask her out,….but another time. He 28

leaned back, exhaled slowly and reflected on the task at hand, some new crew was trying to set up, the Sicilian League29

or something like that. Trying to muscle in on the MF is not a smart move, so many have already tried and failed. 30

Yes tonight the Desert Eagle is just what the emergency department ordered, not the usual finesse of his Glock 19, 31

but the stopping power of the Desert Eagle. He didn’t mind wet work either, it was part of the job after all, but no,32

no blade tonight… although he had his trusty butterfly knives on hand just in case; he was ambidextrous and devastating 33

in a close quarters fight - but tonight was about making a point in public, about showing the pasta eaters they are owned 34

and that there is no room in this town for them. Sicilian League Associates will just have to learn the hard way…..become 35

a made man with the Sicilian League at your peril! Spike parked the bike and took of his lid, he had parked nose out for 36

an easy getaway if needed. It was a warm night so he had opted to take his bike, it was a chick magnet and he 37

always enjoyed the attention it got. A little self serving but hey, he was a man with normal appetites after all.38

He surveyed the road and immediate area, he was packing light tonight, just his Glock and trusty knives…. he was 39

hunting SL members and they were easy prey. He had pulled up near an Italian restaurant in San Pedro, for the life40

of him he couldn’t work out why they would eat pasta in LA, it was just terrible; there wasn’t a decent Italian 41

restaurant in this city, not after what he could get in Jersey at any rate. He unzipped his jacket, stowed his gloves,42

double checked his glock, switched off the safety then strode towards the Restaurant. He had called Byakuran earlier43

and confirmed the intelligence, marysson and maybe even cdkcdk would be there. There was also a rumour that a new 44

player was planning to be made, Johnny 2Gunz - he would learn soon enough…. But for tonight it didn’t matter, one or 45

two it was all the same, someone was going down and hopefully it would be the Don.This was a special order job tonight.46

It had taken a little longer than usual but as Spike lifted the French made M249 from the trunk of his ride he checked 47

the magazine and smiled with pride, it was worth the key of coke he had to quit to his Cuban contacts to get this baby….yes 48

750 rounds of lead a minute would make some kind of impact on the SL and that dingy little hotel where they hung out.49

Spike didn’t have any backup on this one, Byakuran had offered it, but he had declined – it was only the SL after all,50

a two bit outfit run by some slow learner called marysson, what kind of name was that anyway. He had rung his contact 51

earlier in the day, it cost him a few dollars and a night with his best girl but at least he knew he had a window when 52

the cops would be noticeably absent. Spike closed the trunk and threw his jacket over the gun to provide some semblance 53

of camouflage and walked the few metres to the hotel entrance. He knew where he was going and how to get there. 54

He had recce’d the building two days ago making certain he knew how to avoid the CCTV and also planted a back up gun 55

(serial numbers filed off of course) just in case near the lobby stairwell, he smiled as he remembered a motto from another56

time, another life, about being prepared. He quickly put aside those whimsical thoughts and concentrated on the job at57

hand. He strode purposively through the lobby towards the restaurant where he knew they would be; as he saw the 58

bodyguards out front light up in recognition he drew out his suppressed beretta and tapped both with a single round 59

to the forehead – the noise would come soon enough and he didn’t want to waste it by telegraphing his intentions. 60

He found the SL where he knew they would be, he called out to marysson who looked up, pasta sauce smeared all over 61

his face as if he had made a number of failed attempts to wipe his chin clean. Spike smiled wryly noticing the look 62

of sheer terror in his eyes and the new odour of urine in the air, pulled the trigger and unleashed hell....63

The effect was devastating. Spike took no notice initially of marysson who had slumped back against his chair frozen 64

with terror, rather he took out the two rent a thugs marysson had obviously hoped would provide him with some protection, 65

fat chance Spike thought, his wry smile had not yet faded. The tall thickset thug with the red face took the first few66

rounds in the chest, the next thirty were lost in the mist of blood and gore as the rounds tore into the remnants of67

his torso. With the range so close, most were in and out embedding into the wall behind him along with the blood 68

spatter…the body was thrown backwards over a nearby table by the impact as if pulled back by an invisible bungee 69

cord before slumping to the ground lifeless. Swinging to his left Spike eased off on the trigger steadying the gun70

for the next burst. The second bodyguard had dived to his right and was sheltering behind an upturned table. 71

He was returning fire, a magnum, probably a 357 from the sound – the shooter was obviously going at it blind as 72

the rounds went wide. Spike approached the shooter kicking chairs and debris out of the way noticing for the first time 73

the screams and sounds of women and other patrons escaping. 30 seconds down, 60 to go he estimated and then I’m out – 74

the restaurant was now almost empty, he walked past the figure of the matrie’d sobbing on the ground curled up into the75

fetal position, he stopped and re-engaged with the shooter – the upturned table provided no protection and76

disintergrated under the onslaught as he saw the top half of the shooters head disappear. He again eased off the 77

trigger and walked over to the table where marysson sat, quivering, pasta sauce still smeared over his face with the 78

stench of urine now even more overpowering. He turned and walked to the body of the first bodyguard drew his beretta 79

and put a single round between his already unseeing eyes, better safe than sorry. He walked back to marysson and squared 80

up, leveling his suppressed beretta between marysson’s eyes and repeated his mantra, his own code for life” no one fucks 81

with the MF and lives to tell the tale”….. It was at times like this that Spike often wondered what it was about wannabe 82

gangsters when they were faced with their own mortality. He and Byakuran had discussed this many times, as far as Spike was83

concerned, you live by the sword, you die by the sword; bluster bravado and bullshit seemed to be the creed of these 84

wannabes. Fuck em thought Spike, they aren’t worth the shit on their boots anyway, no honour and definitely no guts. 85

Byakuran had once said that he thought their big words made up for inadequacies elsewhere if you know what I mean; 86

they were all dead and buried now, except for Micky Two Fingers of course, but then Micky couldn’t move anything 87

below his neck, drooled constantly and needed a nurse to wipe his arse…. Through the haze of memories he vaguely 88

heard marysson pleading for his life, blubbering on about girls, drugs, cars, cash, anything, funny thought Spike marysson 89

always said he wasn’t into girls or drugs, I guess fear will do that to you. Spike reached into his pocket and 90

pulled out some fresh Kleenex and threw them to marryson, “here wipe away your tears little boy” he said and then double91

tapped him in the head watching with grim satisfaction as marysson slumped forward, lifleless. Turning quickly at the 92

sounds behind him, he noted more patrons leaving, still no sounds of sirens in the distance….. right time to go , Spike 93

threw his jacket back over the gun and walked casually from the carnage satisfied with the evenings work, as he walked past94

reception he opened fire again aiming above the counter, more for effect than any threat, he wanted staff to hang off on 95

calling the cops. He exited, turned right and jumped in his ride, time to dump and burn. He had another car waiting not far96

away, this one already wiped clean and ready for disposal, the faint smell of gasoline noticeable from the jerrycans in 97

the boot. As he pulled casually away from the curb, he dialed Byakuran and checked in, his usual fee would be paid of 98

course. His charge was always the same….. nothing, he had never asked for anything. Spike had a long memory and long ago99

he had sworn allegiance to the MF and that was worth more than cash….. 100

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The atempted murder:102

As Spike walked into the room, his heart sunk as he saw the blood covering the walls and he nearly vomited as he looked 103

down at the lifeless body laying at his feet.At first he didnt understand then he looked out the window and saw the 104

Sicilian League walking away and he quickly realized what had happened.Then he got down and rolled the lifeless body 105

over and to his horror he saw the face of Byakuran. 106

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Attempted murder Fails:108

Spike rolled the lifeless form of his Don over fearing the worst, struggling to contain the rage he looked up 109

at the fleeing SL members drawing his Glock preparing to make amends. Sighing with relief he felt the tension 110

in his shoulders go as he recognized the lifeless form of Joe Cachitano, Joe was a good kid with strong family 111

credentials and probably would have been made had he lived longer. Swearing softly he stood, took aim and loosed 112

a few rounds at the fleeing Sicilian League soldiers - none had any effect as they disappeared from site. So they 113

had tried to get Byakuran, and of course they had failed. Bitter sweet really, Joe was a good kid, but Byakuran is 114

the Don so the outcome was the right one. He knew the drill, they already had an agreed response to an attempted hit 115

well mapped out, he punched the number for Reborn into his mobile, those stupid fucks at the Sicilian League had messed 116

up and it was time to get angry…. 117

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The Revenge:119

Spike and Reborn were walking purposively, the look of death in their eyes. People moved deliberately out of their way,120

the confidence of two men, single minded in their purpose conveyed in their demeanor. Reborn and Spike weren’t new to 121

this, they had once been known as the Jersey Crew, a two man squad that had once run Byakuran’s Jersey operations – drugs, 122

girls, numbers, protection the whole box and dice. There was a certain familiarity, the knowledge of what the other was 123

thinking and a synchronicity of action that went without saying when they worked together. Spike was happy Reborn had 124

flown in, it was going to be like old times. He had picked him up from John F Kennedy a few hours earlier, called by his 125

safe house, kitted out and jumped in the ride they would use for this job. He had boosted it a couple of days ago, not 126

long after the attempted hit on Byakuran – he had changed the plates and had one of his rebirthing shops re-spray the 127

panels, so he was certain he would not attract any unwanted attention. Byakuran was safe and had avoided the SL easily 128

and was still in control of the MF. The counteroffensive was now well underway and Byakuran with Khaos911 and Elementvolcom 129

were in LA removing any residual SL threat there. It had taken a few days and he had had to splash some cash, but 130

eventually Spike had found where the SL soldiers had holed up. They had rented a place uptown in a dive on 147th Street 131

and hadn’t moved – they probably were waiting for the heat to die down. Spike and Reborn had decided to go in hard, under132

his jacket, Spike carried the M249 slung over his shoulder backed up his Glock, Berreta and trusty knives. Reborn was133

packing an AA-12 automatic shotgun loaded with a 20 shot magazine of titanium alloy heavy shot, this was a true masterpiece134

of pain, capable of 300 rounds per minute, it could thrown down a wall of lead if needed, Spike naturally assumed he also 135

had his preferred handgun, the Swiss made Spinx 3000. Reborn normally carried two as he was equally weighted and could fire136

simultaneously with both hands… They made their way silently to the third floor via the internal stairwell, they had 137

encountered no one so far and so collateral damage had remained at zero. Spike was not a murderer, sure he had tapped 138

any number of people, but he never hit innocents, women or children, that was his unwritten rule and he was happy for 139

it to stay that way. This building like many others of its age had an external fire exit out front so there was no need 140

to split up – the windows wouldn’t be an option. They were looking for apartment 312, this was where they would find the141

SL. A door opened ahead of them, 306 Spike guessed and a head peeked momentarily out, only to disappear immediately – this142

tenant obviously knew the drill, see no evil, hear no evil, tell no evil and live a longer life. They stopped in front 143

of 312, Spike bent over and pulled out his mini cam reflecting again about what you can buy at a surplus store and inserted 144

the optic fibre lens under the door, he saw three SL soldiers - one on the couch and two at a table playing cards, he 145

thought he could pick up what he thought were 4 voices via the mic, so perhaps there were four soldiers or maybe more. 146

He motioned this information to Reborn indicating numbers, positions and responsibility, who nodded in confirmation; the 147

occupants of the apartment remained still ignorant of the storm brewing just outside their door. Spike stood and took a 148

deep breath… the familiar tingles returned like a welcome friend, he smiled as he noted his senses heightening as the 149

adrenalin coursed through his veins, this was a high beyond anything a drug could provide… he looked over at Reborn and 150

nodded, this was an old drill and they both knew their roles. Spike stepped back stowing the mini cam cocking his weapon 151

exhaling silently, Reborn fluidly moved in and let go with 3 rounds - 2 for the hinges and the third for the lock. 152

The AA-12 disabled the door in short order, Reborn stepped back and Spike moved forward, as he did he leveled the M249 153

and kicked in what was left of the door entering the apartment going left, he heard rather than saw Reborn coming in behind 154

him going right… to be continued if peopel likes