The Black

Gabriel's cold blue eyes stared out the window of the massive truck, listening to the radio playing low over the dull roar of the engine as it powered down the road. He watched the people walking along through the dimly light streets, going about their lives. Everyone was, for the most part, happy with how things were right now. People had started to forget how things were just 15 years ago on these very streets. But now, with his company providing security for the majority of the down town area, people here were happy. They didn't have to worry about a gang war breaking out in the middle of the street. They didn't have to worry about getting mugged or raped int he allies. The police here had a much easier time on their hands, so they were able to deal with regular "civilian" issues, as anyone in the major gangs knew that pulling a stupid stunt on LIDI turf was tantamount to suicide for the offending party. The outlaying areas outside Gabriel's neutral zone were a little different. The gangs were prevalent, but for the last 10 years, there had only been minor border skirmishes that Lockwood had put down with brutal force. But besides those small offenses, the ten years had gone by without much of a hitch. Gabriel knew that the gangs were just biding their time, preparing for the onslaught. Gabriel had yet to see who it was going to be that pushed outward from their positions to try and take control and who was going to keep their territory, building their strength in their established realm of control. Everything was up in the air at the moment and it was going to be pure chaos in the beginning to see how it all played out. Gabriel was definitely not looking forward to it.

The official cease-fire would be ending any day now, really. There was no formal date set for when the gangs could "let loose" again, but it would be happening soon. Gabriel knew it would. There would be street violence again along the borders as each gang fought to take over the others, pushing outward and ever expanding. It was what had been agreed upon when the truce had been put into place. After the ten years was over, the gangs would openly war once more, fighting to see where hey could push their boundaries too before Lockwood could reign them all in once more. Once the wars started again, Lockwood new he'd be hard pressed to control everything, so his primary concern for the beginning was enforcing the fact that the civilian population was not to be harmed through the fighting. He knew that such a rule would be tough to uphold, but he was set upon it. If these gangs were going to tear into each other once again there would undoubtedly be "collateral damage" on the population, but Gabriel was going to make sure that was kept to a minimum, even if he had to cal in the British military to do it. He knew that those boys were just chomping at the bit for a reason to come in and take over what he was doing. Parliament was just loath to formally declare martial law due to the ramifications it would have. Gabriel knew that was the primary reasn why LIDI had been given the contract for this whole operation all those years ago. But ow it was all going to change and he was unsure of which direction it would go.

Truth be told, Gabriel had been collecting his resources for this time as well. he wasn't going to sit idly by while the gangs built their power and forces. The last ten years had been spent handpicking the finest contractors in his company and putting them through vigorous training at his facilities. he'd been stockpiling weapons and equipment for his men. The new fleet of armored vehicles had been procured and armed. And most recently were his helicopters, of which he was very proud of. He'd been building his entire branch carefully, brick by brick solidifying the wall that would stand between the civilian population and the fighting of the gangs. He knew his men were ready, from his standard patrol squads, to his "black ops" teams. if things got hairy, he'd be able to handle them.

For tonight, though, he had arranged a meeting for all the "Pack Leaders" surrounding his neutral zone. He wanted to have a chance to get everyone settled into one location, talk to them all at once and let them know how he was going to handle things. Let them all know the terms and conditions he was going to uphold for their "struggles" and what they could expect of him at any given time. At least int he beginning. There was no telling how things would unfold later down the road, but that bridge would get burnt when he got to it. But, he had made sure that all the leaders knew that this "summit meeting" was on neutral grounds. No hostilities would be tolerated within his "home". He had strict consequences in store for anyone who violated those terms. It would be understood from the beginning that anyone could walk through his territory without fear of being hurt/assailed/abducted or worse. He wanted them to know how he'd handle civilian casualties and collateral damage. if these gangs were going to fight, he was going to make sure they knew it was on his terms. Dante, one of Gabriel's personal guards, brought him from his thoughts with a quick pat on the shoulder as the armored truck arrived at it's location.



On the street outside of the Hawksmoor Guildhall, Gabriel's convoy pulled to a halt, the three large armored vehicles rumbling at an idle as they sat there. The front and rear vehicles were armed with light machine guns in the turret mounts, but were currently unmanned. In a quick procession, 4 armed men disembarked from back of the two grey trucks, fanning out slowly as they scanned the area carefully. They didn't keep their weapons at the ready, but everyone was still carefully watching their surroundings looking for hints of trouble. They wore the typical dress of LIDI London personnel; Tan tactical pants, a black polo shirt with the LIDI logo embroidered on both sleeves, and tan ballistic body armor across their torsos adorned with assorted pouches and magazine holders. After a moment, the rear doors to the black armored truck popped open and two armed guards exited from their seats. These two guards were known to be Lockwood's personal guards; Dante carrying his signature M249 SPW and Travis, with his custom M4 carbine. Both men were former special forces in Iraq and Afghanistan before coming to work for Lockwood, personally recruited by Gabriel himself. They were only two members of Mr. Lockwood's team of personal guards, though. With a nod from Travis, Gabriel emerged from the truck as well, not even looking around as he stepped out of the vehicle and onto the street. He watched as his men took up positions around him and headed toward the door. As they entered the building, the three trucks roared off down the street once more and two of the armed guards posted themselves on each side of the building entrance.

Inside, Gabriel was greeted by the owner of the restaurant, who looked only slightly troubled about the presence of the armed personnel in his restaurant as they fanned out and took up positions around the establishment. The patrons of the business had all stopped what they were doing to look at the goings on, but no one seemed too worried about it. They knew how the men were and their reputation. The owner lead Gabriel back to the Private dinning room which had been reserved for the night. The massive table had seating for 18 people around it, enough for each leader to bring two other people with him/her if they wanted to. As they walked into the room, an armed guard took up a position in each corner, Dante and Travis taking their corners at the head of the table, behind the seat Gabriel walked over to. A quick discussion with the owner and quick nod saw the man off to his other duties as Gabriel sat down. The leaders would be arriving shortly, and Gabriel wanted to be ready for them as they arrived.

-removed cause no longer needed-

Lord Charles Westing - The Black - Westminster Palace, The House of Lords

"And therefore, fellow countrymen, I call for a rally against the powers of the perceived democracy we live in! The House of Commons are voting for near martial law and military rule, to consolidate their power. They may be conservatives, but they are going to be the end of our United Kingdom! I ask you, knights of England, to take up the sword and defy their wicked attack on our country! Let us show them, that the Watchdog has not fallen asleep!" Charles bellowed ecstatically, and nodded appreciatively to the members, who applauded his speech vigorously.
"Thank you Lord Westing, for your... inspiring speech." The Lord Speaker said, looking up again. "Very well, any others who would like to speak before the vote?" she asked. No other lords seemed to have anything else to say, so the voting commenced.

"The vote has been cast, 613 vote for a veto, 176 vote against the veto." The Lord Speaker declared. "The vote has been cast, we will oppose the House of Commons in their pursuit of a martial law. For now the declaration of any kind of martial law will be postponed for six months, then we shall reconsider their bill." The Lord Speaker said, dismissing the meeting.

"Well spoken sir. I'm sure the postponing of the Bill of Militant Protection will give a room for us to breathe." Charles' secretary said, trailing behind him. "Yes James, and more importantly, it'll keep my only rival on the streets. If they got the bill through, Gabriel and his forces would be removed and instead there'd be corrupt military leaders instead. Those would only help to tip the balances of the criminal gangs. Besides... I want to crush LIDI myself. Those pesky politicians aren't going to get their chance to mess with my plans." Charles said, walking towards his car. A large american Chrysler, the car windows toned until they've reached a mirror-like state. His chauffeur stood by, holding his sixpence in his hand, the cool wind making the elder man look like a stoic 15th century statuette.
"Alright Mark. Take me to the Hawksmoore guildhall." Charles said, and took his seat in the back. The insides of the car, was luxurious indeed. Redwood panels framed the car, end smooth black leather made sure that comfort wasn't a need. The car had cost him a small fortune, but it was well worth the investment, as it was a clear signal of the prestige and money he had.

While the large car drove through the streets, Lord Westing couldn't help but take up his laptop, and go through his personal newsfeed. The newsfeed divided itself up into categories, politics, economics, organizational and personal. Slowly he went through the top feed, mostly economic and political, which was understandable, now that the House of Lords had thrown a veto against the House of Common's bill.
Of course the news of the veto made it clear that something was going on in the parliament, but the public wouldn't be able to figure it out, and neither would the media... if they knew what would be good for them.
A little down the list, he came over something that made his heart skip a beat. A group of no less than 50 LYFL grunts would be standing guard outside the Hawksmoore guildhall. The grunts had already entered The Black throughout the early hours of the day, and now they would be gathering a pair of streets away, at one of the local pubs.

And as the car came within a short distance of the Hawksmoore guildhall, Charles began to see the signs f LYFL on the streets. The easily recognisable dark purple shirts they wore, became ever more evident in the streets, until the car finally sped down, and eventually parked in front of Hawksmoore. James made sure to quickly look around, before he opened the door for Charles.
"Don't go too far away, I want to be able to make a quick exit, should the plebs inside try anything." Charles said, patting James on the shoulder before the old man entered the car and drove off, leaving Charles outside the building.
He drew in a deep breath, and looked at the building. It seemed like a nice establishment, not too overtly fancy, but neither a dunghole. It was ideal.

When he entered, he was shocked to see the quantity of guards and bodyguards littered in the room. Years in the security business gave him an eye for bodyguards, the small signs of nervousness and the sense of anticipation.
He quickly signaled for a waiter, who seemed to be only a little nervous. "I'd like you to serve some refreshments to the bodyguards in here, just send any bill to IHS Ltd. okay?" he said in a hushed tone. The waiter just nodded, and hurriedly went to the guards in the establishment, asking them if they wanted any refreshments. But the waiter of course also helped Charles in identifying the guards. The number he ended on was quite shocking when this was supposed to be a peace conference of sorts.

Charles shook it off, and went for the door, which obviously lead to the private section of the establishment. Making sure to comb his fingers through his hair and check his suit one last time, he opened the door, and walked in.
It seemed that some of the high profiled criminals from London's underground was assembled already, most of them seated, with Gabriel at the head of the table.
For a moment, Charles face involuntarily drew into a grim mask, as he scanned his only real rival. Gabriel had changed slightly since the press took a picture of him last time, but still he looked very much like he had back in the days.
Charles looked away from Gabriel and over to the other criminals. Some of them seemed like nothing but Criminals in nice suits and dresses, except maybe for the jewel queen, whose name he really couldn't recall. She looked very much like the role she tried to play, but the rest where stereotypes like himself.
"Good afternoon." he stated, and pulled a chair over, so that he could sit opposite Gabriel. "Anything interesting going on?" he asked casually and placed his coat over the back of the chair and let his silver topped cane rest up on the side.
He slumped down in the chair and let his shoulders sink, and looked wearily at the criminals around him. One in particular intriguing him. "Nice suit." he complimented Tristram, and smiled heartily.

Regina couldn’t help a small smile that crossed her face. “You’re picking up the tab tonight? Well then, why don’t we indulge? Just in the spirit of the moment?” She leaned back in her chair a bit, signaling one of the nearby waiters.
“I’d like the Chteau Mouton Rothschild Pauillac, from ’86; if you don’t mind. Thank you so much.” She turned back to the table and settled in her chair as if she hadn’t just ordered a $600 dollar bottle of wine on someone else’s tab. While she generally didn’t indulge, it was fun every once and a while.

“Gabriel, just what is it you hope to accomplish tonight? None of us here got where we are by being all that willing to follow rules. I mean, you did get us all here at one time, congratulations, but . . . you can’t think that peace keeping in a time of conflict is going to be as easy as maintaining a peace that’s already in place.”

Regina swiveled in her seat and smiled wryly over at Sir Lord Charles Westing. The over dressed Lord always seemed so stiff when he had to deal with those that had earned their money the old fashioned way.
“So then, Sir Lord. How goes the grocery business? I know that it must be so hard to answer to shareholders for what you do. Oh wait, no I don’t.” Her street drawl had thickened as she spoke, not bothering to hide her origins. She had clawed her way up through sheer hard work, she really didn’t have much respect for those that had their start handed to them on a platter.

Settling back in her chair, Regina sipped her wine, thanking the server who had appeared at her shoulder to pour a discreet glass.
“Tell me, do you plan on playing nice with the babysitter?” A wave of her hand indicated Gabriel sitting silently at the head of the table.

Gabriel had hardly finished his last little statement when Charles Westing walked through the door into the room, wearing his ostentatious demeanor like a flamboyant coat. Until the Charles’s face fell upon Gabriel in his seat. Gabriel’s face lips pulled into broad, smug smile as the look on the man’s face changed. Charles seemed to think that there was a competition between the two of them for some reason. Perhaps it was because LIDI had been able to pull in most of the best contractors world over through better pay, benefits, and training. Perhaps it was that Charles thought he should be the one sitting where Gabriel was now. There were a lot of reasons why the man could resent Gabriel. Personally, Gabriel didn’t give two shits about it. The political maneuvering that the man was on about would only lead to emergency declarations if Gabriel were unable to keep his hold on the realm. Gabriel would move on to other contracts without losing a night of sleep while the Royal Marines were called into to clean up after him. Gabriel simply smiled at the man’s grim look as he walked over to the table with his idle banter, “Charles, how good of you to join us. Late, but still not the last one here it seems.”

Regina’s voice brought the “master of the table” from his thoughts on the new arrival, drawing his eyes to the woman for a moment and a sly smile replacing the contented one that had rested there a moment ago. He listened to her order and chuckled for a moment, letting the rest fill their orders as well,” Indeed. After all, what kind of a host would I be if I invited you all here and made you pick u your own bill. That’s simply rude. But… if you’re going to try and set a precedent, you should orders something with a little more clout.” He grinned, turning to the waiter with a simply shrug, ordering a bottle of the Château Pétrus 1982, simply the most expensive wine in the building at a price tag of 6500 pound sterling per bottle, if they had more than one. The waiter looked to Gabriel for a moment before nodding and setting off to fill the drink orders.

Ms. Smith’s voice stirred the air once more as she voiced her question about the meetings purpose. Gabriel sighed slightly, settling back against the chair comfortably once more,” This meeting is for one simple reason: To establish some simple rules for things to come. To let you all know the things that I will not tolerate. Things that will draw my direct and undivided attention to your… businesses with dire consequences. I don’t care if you all fall upon yourselves like slavering wolves to tear each other’s throats out. Hell, the more you fight each other, the less I have to worry about you all. But there will be some guidelines for the whole thing if you want to keep me from marching my men into your territory and kicking your asses so far off the isle, you’ll be digging desert sand out of the crack of your ass for the next fifty years worrying about some African warlord stealing your most recent supply of food.“ He sighed slightly, letting his eyes wander the table slowly,” But… I will wait just a few moments longer before I begin. Try to give our last “guest” another moment or two to arrive.”

With that, Gabriel’s attention was drawn over to the waiter who approached with his bottle of wine. Gabe smiled politely to the man as he uncorked the bottle carefully and poured a glass. Gabe took the glass with a thank you before taking a moment to draw in a long breath of the liquid as he swirled it in the glass for a second. Another simple, content smile graced his features before he took a small drink, tasting the deep crimson wine. A shallow nod was his sign of approval before he took a nice long draw for the glass again, letting the others go back to conversing. Gabriel looked to the door once more and to his watch, curious to see how long Lady Reece would make him wait. Regina’s comment about a “babysitter” drew a barely perceptible glare from the man for a split second before he went back to his drink, disregarding the comment quickly. He wasn’t about to start taking off handed comments to heart any time soon.

"My dear Sir Lord, if you think that the rest of us don't work for our livings, you are sadly mistaken. We've all had to fight for what is ours, we weren't handed a company or two along with the car keys when we turned 16." Regina grinned and leaned to the side, gesturing gracefully with the wine glass in her hand. "Do you even know what it's like to get your hands dirty? I mean really, truly, done a days hard labor dirty? Or are you above all that?" She grinned a bit mockingly. "You might want to try it sometimes. But you'd have to leave the suit behind."

"And I appreciate the offer for the ancient piss water. But I have my own suppliers, thank you very much."

Regina laughed lightly and mockingly. "You think that your hands are the least bit clean, Sir Lord? What must that be like? I prefer to acknowledge the dirty things I've done in the past; all the lines I've had to cross. Makes the present luxuries all the more pleasant." She sipped her wine and smiled as if she didn't have a care in the world. Then she caught the rest of the insult and made a mocking little sad face. "Ohh. You called me tasteless. That hurts, it really does." Her eyes widened and she grinned. "Better be careful, you may end up an unrepentant criminal just like the rest of us. Won't Daddy be upset then?"

She looked up as the last Gang Lord's arrival was heralded by the throaty roar of a motorcycle engine. "Ah, there we go. We can get things started now." She raised her own glass in return as Reece walked in. "Lovely to see you, my dear." She tilted her head back to Gabriel. "And what does our host have to say then, hmm?"