"What in the fresh Hell happened to this place?" asked
Harry, looking at the drab concrete buildings that now stood in place
of the old Gothic-style buildings that had once housed St. Ignatius
Academy.
The surrounding
district was a far cry from the bustling suburb that it had once
been.
The storefronts were
smashed and ruined, the houses were boarded up, and the streets were
lined with stinking trash and debris.
Graffiti covered the
walls, and a few homeless people were scavenging through the
overflowing dumpsters.
Natasha and Olga,
who had come along for the ride, immediately went on the alert, and
drew their sidearms, ready for anything.
"It's been
getting worse ever since the gangs took over," sighed Father
Abel, as they walked through the main school building.
"The outside
looks like a ghost town," said Natasha, her voice grim.
"That's because
it is. The gangs have driven out most of the residents and
businesses. The school is still functioning, but we're barely hanging
on," said Catherine.
"Definitely not
the school I remember," said Aaron, inspecting a broken security
camera.
A gunshot rang out,
and the plaster splintered as a bullet struck the wall nearby.
"Everyone
down!" shouted Natasha, as she and Olga returned fire, their
shots ringing out in the empty hallways.
Harry, Catherine and
Father Abel ducked into a nearby classroom, while Aaron crouched
down, and drew a handgun from his ankle holster.
Aaron fired a shot
just as a door cracked open, and a scream of pain rang out.
The door opened
wider, and a gang member stumbled out, clutching his bleeding hand.
He tried to charge Natasha who was closest, only to be met with a
swift backhand to the face that sent him sprawling, Natasha's
titanium spikes had torn his cheek.
The shooting finally
stopped, and the hallway was silent once more.
The bodies of five
gang members lay in pools of blood, while the one Aaron had shot, was
sprawled on the floor, clutching his bleeding hand.
"Affiliation?"
asked Natasha, as she kicked the living gang member in the ribs,
eliciting a pained groan.
"Your Mama's,"
he spat, trying to crawl away, but Olga seized him by the hood of his
hoodie and sliced open his sleeve with her combat knife, revealing a
tattoo of a skull with a snake wrapped around it.
"Skull vipers.
They're a local gang that usually deals in meth, and have a turf war
with another gang called the Black Cobras," she said, as she
zip-tied the gang member's hands behind his back.
"What the hell
are they doing here? This is a school, not a drug den!" shouted
Catherine, her voice rising in anger.
"Probably
thought that they could use the school's chemistry labs to cook
meth," said Natasha.
"At this point,
we might as well close the school for good," sighed Father Abel.
"I've got a
better idea, but first, let's get out of here. The police should be
arriving soon," said Aaron, as he led the way out of the school
building, with Natasha and Olga covering their backs.
---
"All right, now
that we're back and safe here. Let's talk about what we can do to fix
this mess," said Aaron, as they sat down in the Temporary
Office.
"Aaron, we're a
game development company, not the police. How are we supposed to fix
this?" asked Harry.
"One word
Harry. Gentrification," said Aaron smirking.
Harry held his head
in his hands. "You're going to turn that dump back into a
high-end suburb, aren't you?" he asked, his voice resigned.
"No. I'm going
to turn it into a high-end school, Harry. A school that will never
fall to a bunch of gangsters high on meth," said Aaron, a gleam
in his eyes.
---
"Let me fill
you in on a little secret Aaron. Those gangsters have a certain state
senator backing them," said Congressman Michael DuPont, as he
looked over Aaron's proposal to rebuild St. Ignatius Academy.
"And why would
a respectable state senator back gangs peddling meth?" asked
Aaron.
"Money and
politics dear boy. Politicians don't actually want problems solved,
if that happens, how would they campaign?" chuckled Michael.
"You seem to be
doing fine, despite me solving problems," said Aaron with a
raised eyebrow.
"That's what
you think? Every 'problem' you solve creates a bunch of new ones for
me to ride on. But I digress, the bottom line is you can't expect the
police to roll up in SWAT gear and clear out the neighborhood, even
if you buy it up," said Michael.
"Hmm, building
my own private army is going to stretch the development timeline,"
said Aaron, tapping his chin thoughtfully.
"May I suggest
you let me bring in the DEA and National Guard instead? I like you,
kid. But going full medieval warlord is going to get us both killed,"
said Michael.
"I suppose that
would work as well," chuckled Aaron.
"By the way,
I'm an alumnus of St. Ignatius Academy as well. So pull out all the
stops, and make it a school that we can all be proud of," said
Michael, shaking Aaron's hand.
---
Gunshots rent the
air as the National Guard and DEA stormed the school district,
hunting down the gang members with ruthless efficiency.
Members of the
police forces stood red-faced, as they watched DEA agents and
National Guardsmen in full tactical gear escort dozens of gang
members out of the school district, zip-tied and hooded.
Large stacks of
white packets were loaded into armored trucks, while the gang members
were herded into police vans.
"All right,
area is cleared Mr. Zakhrov, your bulldozers can move in now,"
said a DEA agent, as he approached Aaron, who was standing next to
Natasha and Olga.
"Thank you,
Agent. I appreciate your help in this matter," said Aaron,
shaking the agent's hand.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
"Don't mention
it. Hope you can do the community here some good," said the
agent, as he walked away to supervise the cleanup operation.
"All right,
Harry, you can start the demolitions now," said Aaron into a
radio.
"On it, boss,"
replied Harry over the radio.
A fleet of
bulldozers and excavators rolled into the school district, their
engines roaring as they began to demolish the old buildings.
A large black SUV
with lights and sirens skidded to a halt, and a woman wearing a blue
pantsuit with a pearl necklace and sneakers leapt out, flanked by two
burly security guards.
Television broadcast
vans stopped behind her SUV, and cameramen and reporters circled
around like vultures.
"What the hell
is going on here?!" shouted Monica Goldberg, storming up to
Aaron, her voice shrill with anger.
"Nice to
finally meet you in person, Senator Goldberg. What's the problem?"
asked Aaron, unfazed by her outburst, or the flashes of cameras.
"What's the
problem? What's the problem?! Your bulldozers are tearing through a
vulnerable community, and you expect me to just stand by and watch?!"
shouted Monica, her face flushed with anger.
"Vulnerable
community? You mean this dump that was just cleared of drugs and
criminals? I've got permits to redevelop this area," said Aaron,
showing her the paperwork.
Monica snatched the
paperwork, glanced through it, and then held it up for the cameras.
"This filthy
colonizer is turning a minority neighborhood into a private
high-school for the rich! This is gentrification at its worst!"
she screamed.
"Senator
Goldberg, can you block it?" asked one of the reporters, shoving
a microphone in her face.
"Of course I
can! Mr. Zakhrov! Consider yourself served!" shouted Monica,
shoving a cease-and-desist order into Aaron's hands.
"Harry, pull
out for now," said Aaron into his radio.
"Goldberg eh?
No problem, boss. We're pulling out," replied Harry over the
radio.
"Let's go,"
said Aaron, but reporters swarmed around him, shoving microphones and
cameras in his face.
"Mr. Zakhrov,
can you confirm that you are planning to build a private high school
in a minority neighborhood?" shouted one of the reporters.
"Mr. Zakhrov,
what do you have to say to the allegations of an oppressive dress
code and mandatory makeup?" shouted another reporter.
"Natasha,
warning shots," ordered Aaron, swatting away a microphone that
was shoved in his face.
Natasha and Olga
stepped close around him, and fired warning shots into the air,
sending the reporters scattering.
The three of them
quickly got into Natasha's car, and they merged into the convoy of
bulldozers and excavators that were leaving the school district.
---
Aaron watched the
security feeds from the Temporary Office, as high pressure water jets
blasted the swarm of reporters and paparazzi that had gathered
outside the Sirius Software compound.
"Natasha, tear
gas," he ordered over the intercom.
He watched as tear
gas canisters exploded in the crowd, sending the reporters and
paparazzi fleeing in all directions, coughing and choking.
"Status report,
Natasha," he said into the intercom.
"About ten
reporters are still holding out sir, but the rest have fled,"
reported Natasha.
"Warn those ten
that they'll get napalm instead of tear gas if they don't clear out.
I don't explain myself to filth," said Aaron.
"With pleasure,
sir," replied Natasha, she switched on a loudspeaker, and
shouted: "This is your final warning! Clear out now, or we will
use napalm on you!"
The remaining
reporters scrambled away, leaving the compound in peace.
"Good girl,
Natasha. Now come back to the Temporary Office," ordered Aaron,
as he leaned back in his chair, satisfied.
"On my way,
sir," replied Natasha.
"We have a
problem Aaron, this cease-and-desist order includes a summons for a
full senate hearing," said Andre, as he entered the Temporary
Office.
"I'm not going
to a kangaroo court, Andre. Find a way to get this thing cancelled,"
said Aaron, his calm but icy voice sending a chill down Andre's
spine.
"I'll try, but
if it comes to it, you'll still have to go to the hearing," said
Andre, as Natasha re-entered the room.
"In that case,
I want you and Natasha to assemble a team of law-bunnies to go up
against Monica," said Aaron.
"Law-bunnies?"
asked Andre, raising an eyebrow.
"You know
exactly what I mean, Andre. And get them outfitted by The Feminine
Professional, it's time for Margaret to make her store debut,"
said Aaron, smirking.
"You are one
twisted bastard, you know that?" said Andre, shaking his head.
"Harry, have
your crews ready for a nighttime demolition operation, we're razing
the entire district to the ground and sealing it off," said
Aaron.
Harry grinned, "You
got it, boss. We'll have the whole place flattened by morning,"
he said.
"Wait, you're
ignoring the cease-and-desist?" asked Andre, his voice
incredulous.
"St. Ignatius
is going to be rebuilt, even if I have to do it over the bodies of
those vermin. Get me full legal ownership of that dump," said
Aaron.
"Come along,
Natasha. I've got a legal team to assemble," sighed Andre, as he
and Natasha left the Temporary Office.
---
Natasha shielded her
face from the turbulence generated by a massive twin rotor transport
helicopter as it landed in the compound's makeshift helipad.
The helicopter's
rotors slowed, and the door opened.
A tall, imposing man
with silver hair stepped out, followed by a young man, not much older
than Aaron.
"Friedrich,
it's been a while," said Aaron, as he walked up to the older
man.
"Indeed it has,
and I see that you've been ruffling all sorts of feathers,"
chuckled Friedrich, as he shook Aaron's hand.
The younger man
stepped forward. "It is a pleasure to meet you again, Herr
Zakhrov," he said, extending his hand.
"Same here,
Axel. I have high hopes for what you've got for me," said Aaron,
shaking his hand.
"I shall
endeavor not to disappoint you, Herr Zakhrov," said Axel,
signaling to the chopper pilot to open the cargo bay doors.
The pilot nodded,
and the cargo bay doors opened, revealing a wide, low-slung,
jet-black car composed almost entirely of flat surfaces and sharp
angles.
It was secured with
heavy-duty straps to the floor of the cargo bay, and had a sleek,
retro-futurist design.
"May I present
the Albrecht Automotive Streikk?mpfer. The first of its kind, fresh
off the assembly line," said Axel, handing Aaron an old-school
car key.
Aaron took the key,
and ran his fingers lovingly over the car's sleek surface.
He inserted the key
into the driver-side door lock, and the scissor door swung open with
a hiss of hydraulics.
He closed the door,
and turned the key in the ignition.
The car's engine
rumbled to life, its deep growl echoing in the cargo bay, its angular
LED headlights flashed on, looking like a pair of menacing glowing
eyes in the dark bay.
He shifted the car
into first gear, and the car rolled forward, like a monster emerging
from the depths of a dark cave.
"An excellent
machine, Axel. I look forward to seeing your enterprise grow,"
said Aaron, as he stepped out of the car.
"Thank you,
Herr Zakhrov. I could not have done it without your mentorship,"
said Axel, bowing slightly.
"Friedrich,
Axel, please make yourselves at home. I'll be back after the first
round of the senate hearing," said Aaron, getting back into the
car.
He flicked the
passenger door open. "Come on in, Natasha," he said.
Natasha nervously
climbed into the passenger seat, and Aaron closed the door.
He started the car,
and slowly drove it towards the security checkpoint.
"Checkpoint
Alpha, prepare to open the exit gate. Rapid response window
protocol," ordered Natasha, suppressing a shudder as Aaron
revved the engine.
"Copy that, Ms.
Parker, rapid response opening in 3, 2, 1," came the guard's
voice over the intercom.
The massive security
gates slid open in a flash. With a banshee-like wail, the
Streikk?mpfer shot out of the compound.
---
The sea of paparazzi
and reporters outside the senate building scrambled out of the way
like fish, as Aaron's car roared up to the entrance.
He got out, and
strode up the stairs, Natasha close behind him.
Olga met them at the
entrance with Margaret and Andre.
"Good to see
you all. Let's get this over with," said Aaron, as they entered
the senate building.
"Is everything
ready?" asked Aaron, once he and his team were inside the
antechamber.
"Yes, Master
Zakhrov. Your legal team is assembled, and they look fabulous,"
said Margaret, puffing out her chest proudly, gesturing to the group
of six sharply dressed female aides and paralegals.
Aaron looked them
over. They were all dressed in sleek black skirt-suits, the blazers
had notched lapels, and their blouses gleamed and shimmered.
Their shoes were
black leather pumps with gleaming 8 cm high titanium alloy stiletto
heels, similar to Natasha's and Olga's combat stilettos.
"You girls
comfortable? You'll need to answer that under oath," he asked.
"Mr. Zakhrov,
let me just say that this stuff would make every law firm bring back
the 1940s dress codes, and in a good way," said one of the
aides, a tall blonde with a confident smile.
"Natasha, Olga,
get these fine ladies to walk in cadence with you," said Aaron,
as he gestured to the law-bunnies.
"Yes, Master
Zakhrov," said Natasha, as she and Olga stepped forward, their
heels clicking on the marble floor.
"One, two,
three, four," chanted Natasha, as she and Olga led the
law-bunnies in a synchronized march.
"Excellent.
That will make a perfect entrance," said Aaron, as the
law-bunnies perfected the synchronized walking cadence.
"Mr. Zakhrov, I
don't know what you've done to these shoes, but this is the first
time I've been able to do this without twisting my ankle," said
one of the law-bunnies, a petite brunette with a neat bob.
"I'm glad that
you like them," chuckled Aaron, as the law-bunnies buzzed in
excitement. He turned to Andre, who was adjusting his tie.
"Are you ready?
I'm not giving Monica the time of day," he asked.
"Oh, yeah. I'm
ready. It's been a while since I've had a chance to go all out,"
chuckled Andre, picking up his briefcase.
"Good. I want
you to tear her a new one, and then some. Enter exactly thirty
seconds after me," said Aaron, as he walked towards the hearing
room.
