Chapter 8: Chapter: 8 Racketeering
Val after recovering from the injuries of the attack, Val tells the boys to gear up we are going racketeering the group drives in multiple cars that hold four people each.
The air was thick with the smell of sweat, sex, and blood. The brothel was a den of sin, a place where men come to indulge their darkest desires. But tonight, it became a battleground, a place of carnage.
Val's men had come for revenge, and they brought it with a vengeance. They moved with the precision of a well-oiled machine, cutting down anyone who stood in their way.
Val burst through the door of the brothel with a bang that echoed through the halls, and the girls working there stopped what they were doing and looked up. Val's eyes roamed around the room, and he took in the scene before him. The smell of cheap perfume and sweat hung in the air, and the sound of moans and grunts filled his ears.
Val's ego swelled at the sight of the girls' longing gazes and their desperate attempts to catch his attention.
The sound of gunfire filled the air, the smell of gunpowder mixing with the scent of perfume and sweat. The girls who worked at the brothel screamed and cried, trying to find a place to hide. The gangsters guarding the place were quick to respond, shooting back at Val and his boys, but it was no use. Val had come prepared, and his Tommy gun cut through them like butter.
As the bullets flew, the innocent bystanders ran for cover, trying to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. But there was no escaping the wrath of Val and his gang, who seemed to revel in the destruction they were causing. The walls shook with every shot fired, the windows shattered, and the mirrors shattered into a thousand pieces.
It was as if the world had gone mad, as if all sense and reason had fled. The girls who worked at the brothel huddled together, praying for the violence to end. But Val and his gang showed no signs of stopping. They were like a pack of wild animals, hungry for blood and destruction.
The gangster was screaming in pain and blood gushed from their eyes and ears, the girls start screaming and running around the room, some scrambling for their clothes. Two gangsters try to run out the back door to inform their boss but Val's men are already there.
Val's men cut down any of the rival gangsters who tried to escape and some of them are just trying to get away.
As the last of the rival gangsters fell, Val stood triumphantly over their bodies. He looked around the room, taking in the carnage with a cold, detached gaze. The brothel was now a wasteland, a place of death and destruction.
But the victory was short-lived. Val knew that this was just the beginning. The Ragen's Colts would not take this lying down, and they would come for him with everything they had. He had opened Pandora's box, and he knew that the consequences would be dire.
As he walked out of the brothel, Val felt a sense of foreboding wash over him. He knew that this was just the beginning of a long and bloody war. The streets of Chicago would run red with blood, and he was prepared to do whatever it takes to emerge victorious.
The raid on the brothel was just the first move in a deadly game of chess.
Val next moved started as they moved to a brewery that supplied pieces of their income, we breached the front and stormed inside.
Val surveyed the scene with a sharp eye, taking note of every detail. The brewery was a dimly-lit space, with only a few flickering lamps providing any sort of illumination. The walls were lined with barrels, stacked high and looming like sentinels guarding their precious contents. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, mixed with the tang of sweat and the acrid stench of gunpowder.
Val's men fanned out, their guns at the ready, but the workers didn't seem to notice. They went about their business with the easy confidence of those who had seen it all before. Some were stirring vats of boiling liquid, others were carrying sacks of grain or hauling heavy barrels across the room. They paid us no attention, their minds focused on their work.
But Val knew better. He knew that there was danger lurking in every shadow, that a single false move could mean the difference between life and death. He felt his heart racing, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and he knew that this was what he lived for - the thrill of the hunt, the challenge of the fight.
As we moved further into the brewery, the atmosphere became tenser. The workers began to cast sidelong glances our way, their eyes narrowing in suspicion. Some of them muttered to each other, their voices low and conspiratorial.
Val's men were on high alert, their fingers twitching on the triggers of their guns. They moved like shadows, slipping silently between the stacks of barrels and crates, scanning for any sign of danger.
Suddenly, a shout rang out, and all hell broke loose. The workers revealed themselves as armed guards, and the room erupted in a hail of gunfire. Val's men were quick to respond, ducking behind cover and returning fire with deadly accuracy. The sound of bullets ricocheting off metal filled the air, along with the screams of the wounded.
In the chaos, Val remained cool and collected. He barked orders to his men, directing their fire and coordinating their movements. He moved like a predator, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of weakness, any opening that he could exploit.
The enemy was fierce and relentless, and bullets flew past us like angry bees, seeking to sting us with death.
I heard someone shout "Boss!" and the next thing I knew, bullets were zipping by my head.
I felt a spray of hot blood hit my face, and I knew that one of my men had just fallen. The room was chaos, with bodies dropping like flies, and blood pooling on the floor. It was like a nightmare coming to life.
I raised my Tommy gun and started firing, the sound of the bullets echoing like thunder in the confined space. I felt a rage inside me, a burning anger that made me want to kill every last one of these bastards.
As I moved from cover to cover, taking out enemy after enemy, I couldn't help but think of all the lives that would be ruined by this senseless violence. The bullets kept coming, but I kept firing, determined to keep my men alive. And then, suddenly, it was over.
The enemy was defeated, lying dead or dying on the ground. The bodies were everywhere, their lifeless eyes staring up at me accusingly. The blood was thick and sticky, soaking into everything it touched.
The last target will be their casino which supplies a vast amount of money to them as they entered the casino.
As Val and his men walked through the casino, the air was thick with the smell of smoke and the clinking of coins. Val's eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail of the opulent surroundings. He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that this place, like so many others in Chicago, would soon be under his control.
The dealers at the tables all wore the same bored expressions, their movements mechanical as they went through the motions of dealing cards and taking bets. Val couldn't help but sneer at their lack of passion for the game. To him, gambling was all about control - the control he had over the money, the control he had over the people who came to his establishments
As Val and his men made their way deeper into the casino, the tension in the air was palpable. The patrons and employees all knew who he was and what he was capable of, and the fear on their faces was a testament to that. Val could sense their fear, and he revelled in it. It was a sign of his power and influence over them.
The screams and cries of the innocent filled the air as Val and his boys pulled out their guns, blazing. The sounds of the Tommy guns were deafening, as the bullets ripped through the walls and furniture, reducing everything to rubble. The guards tried to hide behind the slot machines, but there was nowhere to go. The Crimson Roses gang was unstoppable.
Val's twisted personality was on full display, as he took control of the situation. "This place is now under new management by the Crimson Roses," he bellowed, his voice filled with the self-assuredness of a man who knew he was in control.
The people in the casino trembled with fear, their eyes wide with terror as they watched the madness unfold before them. Val strode around the room like a king, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of resistance.
Val barges into Maxim's office, his eyes blazing with manic energy. Maxim looks up from his desk, sizing up Val's mood, and the situation at hand. "So, you want to know about Ragen's safe house, eh?" Maxim said, lighting up a cigar.
Val nods impatiently. "You better have something for me, Maxim. We need to hit them where it hurts."
Maxim leans back in his chair and takes a puff from his cigar, smoke swirling around his head like a halo. "I've got some information that might be useful. But we need to be careful. Ragen's gang is tough, and they won't go down without a fight."
Val grits his teeth. "I'm not afraid of a fight. You know that, Maxim."
Maxim chuckles, "I know you're not, Val. But sometimes a strategic retreat is the smartest move. We need to play this smart."
Val looks around the room, his eyes darting from object to object, unable to focus. "We can't let them get away with what they did. They attacked our guys first. We need to make them pay."
Maxim nods. "I agree, but we need to be patient. Strike when they least expect it. That's the key to winning."
Val sneers. "I don't have time for patience, Maxim. I want blood, and I want it now."
Maxim leans forward and looks Val in the eye. "Listen to me, Val. I've been in this game longer than you. I know how it works. You can't just charge in blindly. We need a plan. A good one. And we need to execute it flawlessly."
Val clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white. "Alright, fine. What's the plan?"
Maxim smiles. "I thought you'd never ask. We're going to hit them where it hurts. Ragen's safe house is heavily guarded, but we know how to get in. We'll take them by surprise and wipe them out. It won't be easy, but it will be worth it."
Then a young woman interrupted the talk by entering the room, Val sees that she is shaking in nervousness and perhaps fear she walks closer and then introduces herself "My name is Sally Molloy I'm a pianist" Val replies "A pianist Maxim is one of your clients?" Maxim replies "Yeah boss she lives in the area between our turf and the Ragen's colts".
Sally then speaks " Listen, l know what l owe, but l had a sprained wrist last month and couldn't hit a single key without wincing. I'm better now, and I've got some cash, but l can't give to you what l owe because... l took some money from the Ragen's colts and they want their share too. I've got a gig going later this month, and have your cash by then. Alright?"
Val looks at Sally with a gaze so sharp it could cut glass. He didn't trust anyone who owed him money, let alone someone who owed money to his rival gang. "You know how we operate, Sally," he says in a low, menacing tone. "You miss a payment, we come for you. And if you don't have the money, well..." He trails off, letting the implication hang in the air.
Sally nods, her face pale. "I understand," she says softly. "I'll get the money, I promise. Just give me some time."
Maxim looks at Val with a hint of concern. He knows that Val can be unpredictable, especially when it comes to money. "Val, let's not do anything rash," he says, trying to diffuse the tension. "Sally is a valuable asset to us. She brings in a lot of business."
Val scoffs. "I know what she brings in, Maxim. But business is business. And if she can't pay her debts, then she's useless to us."
Sally looks down at her feet, her shoulders shaking with fear. She knows that Val isn't one to be trifled with. But she also knows that she can't let him take everything from her. "Please, Val," she begs. "I'll get the money. Just give me some time."
Val's voice was low and menacing as he leaned in towards Sally, his eyes glinting with excitement. "You're in debt to the Ragen's colts? That's a dangerous place to be, my dear. But I have a proposition for you." Sally's eyes widened in surprise as she listened to Val's plan. "I'll release you from your debt if you tell me where their safe house is."
Sally hesitated for a moment, weighing her options. She knew the Ragen's colts were not to be trifled with, but the thought of being free from their grasp was too tempting to resist. "It's in South Loop," she finally said, pointing to the location on the map.
Val's lips twisted into a sly smile as he leaned back in his chair. "Excellent," he said. "Consider yourself debt-free from now on until you borrow."
As Sally left the room, Val turned to Maxim. "We're going to need more men for this one," he said, his voice dark with anticipation. "And we need to move fast."
Maxim nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I'll make the arrangements," he said. "But we need to be careful. The Ragen's colts won't go down without a fight."
Val chuckled, the sound sending shivers down Maxim's spine. "That's the plan," he said, his eyes glinting with malice. "But we'll be ready for them. We'll strike when they least expect it."
Maxim couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he watched Val, the man he had known for so long, become more and more consumed by his power. He knew that this battle would change everything, and he wasn't sure if they were ready for the consequences.
As Val began to make preparations for the attack, Maxim couldn't help but wonder if they were in over their heads. But he knew that it was too late to turn back now. The die had been cast, and there was no going back.
The tension in the room was palpable as Val and Maxim discussed their plans, their words laced with the weight of the impending battle. Every decision they made could mean the difference between victory and defeat. And as they finalized their strategy, they both knew that there would be no turning back.
The air was thick with anticipation as they made their final preparations, the sound of weapons being loaded and checked filled the room. Val's eyes glinted with fierce determination as he looked around at his men, ready to lead them into battle.
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