Unlucky Gangsters (HC part 12)
By JS2007
The elegant forty something lady sat opposite Professor Nakimura, alternately glaring at Helen and then across at the old man, as the late August sunshine flooded into his office. He was attempting to explain how things had gotten out of hand in an unsanctioned fight at one of the Universities many Dojos. Fuso’s aunt seemed angry with the world, and how lucky Helen and Nakimura were, that her secret husband in Japan had warned them of her visit. The Professor had already gone through the facts that accidental deaths were not unusual given the nature of the brutality that often took place in unsanctioned fights at the Triad operated University, but the woman was not convinced as she had seen at least two different smart phone recordings of what appeared to be Helen executing an already severely injured opponent. While Helen kept her head bowed in submission, she was also following every twitch of the woman’s two body guards. The heavier set ‘muscle’ would be her second target, the mid-thirties hatchet faced woman would be priority, and she had the small snub nosed Browning 22 she had slipped from its stocking garter holster aimed at the bitch. The beautiful mature women cleared the professor’s desk with a sweep of an expensively manicured hand, sending the desk phone, his open laptop and a gilt framed picture of Nakimura’s daughter cascading to the floor to emphasis her anger.
‘I can assure you Mrs Rai that it was an accident as far as the University is concerned. Miss Chung, an assistant coach, had been challenged by a student and was forced to defend herself.’ The old man smiled. ’The fact that she is now collecting a sizable bounty is a pure coincidence, and proof for the kill has already been supplied to the organisations who put up the blood price for her death, so I am not sure what interest the wife of Baron Rai of the Honshu Yakuza has concerning the death of a Tokyo based assassin, who has met her death here in Shanghai.’ The old man sighed.’ It may interest you to know I have already had visits from gentlemen from Tokyo and Bangkok, who demanded similar proof to yourself, and though I understand the interest of your brothers Asoka Clan, as it appears the unfortunate assassin had a sizable bounty on her head from your brother as well as from the Thai Tongs, but I do not understand your concerns. Proof of the woman’s identity was necessary for both bounties to be paid, even if unfortunately the full price for the Yen bounty was only payable for an abduction and not on proof of death, so Miss Chung is mainly wealthy in dollars, but has been given the protection of your brother’s organisation, as I am sure you must be aware. We provided photographic evidence as well as the films of the fight and of course DNA from both her body and the scene of the killing to both Triad and Yakuza.’
Helen kept a straight face, both teams of gangsters had brought in their own forensic specialists who had swabbed the scene to check for prints- which they found, the fakes from Akiko’s altered finger tips- and also blood and hair for DNA samples- which they also found, her own, from Helen’s liberally sprinkled blood and planted platinum dyed hair.
‘As I have already explained,’ continued the professor,’ the body itself was stripped of useful content and then incinerated so as to avoid any unwelcome questions, the University has already arranged for the real Akiko, who is a Japanese American, to start the course in October, so even if some rumours surface, they can easily be denied, as we will produce an ‘Akiko’ for them to meet. As I say, this type of thing is not unusual here, and the Principles office is used to handling such things’.
‘I am well aware that my brother’s clan have extended protection to Ms Chung, ‘she nodded and smiled at Helen,’ and my nephew is now a regular guest at your campus to visit her. But you are sure it could not have been this girl?’ the woman pushed across her phone that had a picture of a teen Japanese girl, emerging dripping wet and glistening from a hot tub, pouting at the camera, in a skimpy green bikini. The woman casually touched the old man’s hand as she slid it across for him to look at. ‘This is Mayu, who also has a bounty on her head. She was tricked into a mistake, and had to flee.’ And then she whipped round to look straight at Helen, ‘Are you sure this is not the woman you killed, thinking it was this Arimi person?’ Helen shook her head, while the professor sighed and withdrew his hand, but both realised they had been lucky to have been warned about this lady in advance by Mayu herself, and had taken the suppressors which effectively blocked the slight flushing, increased pulse, iris widening and nervous reaction that would have told the highly skilled kunoichi ninja Siren ‘Abbess’ they were both lying. With a nod of her head she dismissed the two thugs, who relaxed immediately and walked to the door of the small interview room as ordered by their Clan Hatchiman’s wife. The woman leaned back in her chair and silently looked the two of them up and down, expensive cloths, premier perfume, family heirloom jewellery, and of an indeterminate age from thirty to fifty, as the work she had had done was so good it blended perfectly with her flawless skin.
‘That gun you have under the table would not have saved you as Coco has on body armour and your angle would not allow a head shot, and actually Mr Momo is incredibly fast, so targeting her first would have been a mistake.’ She smiled and adjusted her dress jacket and flicked casually at her hair, ‘shit’, thought Helen she was good, as without even thinking Helen had relaxed her concentration and caught herself half way to putting her gun back in its thigh holster. ‘But as you have not murdered Mayu I will conclude our meeting now’, and then before Helen could break from her trance she leaned across and stroked the tall Afro Asian auburn haired woman’s cheek.
‘I think I can see what my nephew sees in you, but eventually my brother will discover what you two have done and kill you all,’ her face split into a grin,’ and tell Mayu I still love her,’ she hissed into Helen’s ear, and then she added as an afterthought. ‘And it’s an honour to meet the woman who killed the heads of the Wu Lang Toa, you must tell me how you did it sometime’.
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Then…
The skanky looking Chinese girl slipped into the Bangkok slum bar by the backdoor and greeted the Thai owner with a smile and gestured towards the pot of rice and gruel stewing in the family pot, he nodded back but pointed to the bar area and then at the overflowing sink. She smiled at the man who had been her patron these last months, and as she knew it made him happy, pulled her skimpy top tight, showing off her growing breast, and then carelessly scratched an imaginary itch on her firm naked ass.
‘Clean then eat’, he said in his broken Cantonese. The Chinese girl, in the filthy stained ‘jean cut out’ mini skirt, with the skimpiest of dirty black string knickers, and an even dirtier red top, smiled and wiped her hand across her obviously unwashed face, ran her fingers through her matted shoulder length black greasy hair before blowing her nose loudly into her fingers and then wiping them off on her jeans. Everything about the young women from Guandong was dirty, especially her skin, and that was all completely intentional as she had spent hours grinding the grung into her pores, changing her whole skin tone. Some filthy plasters and a couple of nasty scabby sores were all that remained on view of some very high quality tattoos, and repeated pen stabbings into her arms and thighs had left dark wounds that would leave no casual observer in any doubt as to her habit. Arimi’s last reserve of funds had gone into a nose job and some eye surgery, but she couldn’t afford a good job or extensive work, but it was just enough to mean even those who knew her would have to look twice, and she was confident no one would think of looking for her here, and certainly not twice. Her injured and scarred true appearance for now working in her favour
‘Yes, but want food first’, she answered the bar owner and rubbed her round belly, ’Baby hungry’. The man sighed and scooped a big bowl of rice and spiced pork for her and grabbed a set of dirty chopsticks from out of the washing sink and let her eat.
‘Extra money tonight maybe?,’ she asked hopefully, eating the muck with pretended relish. Thank goodness she actually spent all her extra cash on real food and an ever so private anti-natal clinic. She looked to the man and his son, who spoke together in Thai, her growing understanding of which she had kept secret.
‘Slap! Slap!’, she mimed the action of slapping. ‘Earn money tonight maybe?’ The woman the bar owner called ‘Sally’ was very popular with the bars patrons who had nick named her ‘Iron Chest’ as the bar ran a very profitable side-line in vicious women vs women ‘Tit Fights’. The rules were simple and the gambling on the fighters prodigious. The two fighters sat opposite each other on chairs and exchanged slaps, bites, gouges and crushes to each other’s bare chests until one could no longer go on, and literally fell off her chair. Reviving a fighter by tipping a beer over their head was normal, and even the looser would get more money than they would usually earn in a week in exchange for a pair of bruised, bright red, sagging and bleeding breasts. ‘Sally’ could pick up a month’s money in a night and regularly pitted her blossoming and now filling 34 inchers against the usually much smaller tits of the competition. They agreed to let her stay, but as there was something big on tonight, all they wanted her for was cleaning and bar work.
She had wandered in six months ago and earned pocket money by cleaning and bar work, even though the limit of her Thai was ‘Yes’, while servicing customers, but then had managed to get invited down to the dusty basement bar and witnessed her first fight. Ng, a thirty something, dark haired Vietnamese Chinese women had slapped into oblivion a small titted Thai, and by the simple stratagem of spitting on the victor as she celebrated, got her first fight. It was Sally’s first and Ng’s last, as she ripped the teats out of the vicious Champion to claim her crown, leaving the older women wailing hysterically at the state of her ruined chest, and winning the bar owner a fortune as all the bets had been on the veteran vixen. However it seemed that tonight there would be no desperate husband who was putting up his wife, or cocky teen who thought her tits must be stronger than the pregnant Chinese sow, but the bar owner did have a job for her, serving drinks down in the basement, as he had a real grudge fight arranged for that evening.
Muay Thai was a religion in Bangkok, both sanctioned and underground, and as everyone knew two of the cities youthful female fighters had just met and beaten each other into the ER, in a drawn fight that had not satisfied either camp. Their mothers were both unfortunately not available due to prison sentences to continue the duel, but each had a grandmother more than eager to fight for the family honour, and especially as it was they who had trained their youthful granddaughters, and had had to carry them injured and unconscious from the ring. The whole central area of the stiflingly hot underground room had been cleared, and the patrons were seated around the walls of the small florescent lighted bar-room. At one end of the bar itself a naked dark haired 60 something Thai woman, Granny Doa, having her fists tapped in rough, course, black tape, and a red ribbon wound round her long pigtail that brushed her naked sweaty rump. She was glaring at a late fifties mature MILF, a bit shorter than herself, Granny Kulap, heavier built than her foe, but equally naked, who already had her fists tapped and a blue ribbon wound into her slightly shorter hair. ‘Red’ and ‘Blue’ were continually cursing and insulting each other, while their husbands prepared them for the fight, and then to Sally’s surprise they both rose at the same time and started to perform the prayers, bows and pre-fight ritual so characteristic of the Muay Thai, but striking Sally as faintly ridiculous as being performed by two naked matrons. And then with a last low bow, while kneeling on the dirty wooden floor, both women spring to their bare hard feet and with a scream charged at each other.
At the last second the older women snapped out a gutting kick and her younger late fifties opponent ran her hairy crotch straight on to the hard flat foot. Mrs Kulap gurgled and holding herself staggered back while the red ribboned fighter let out a hoarse laugh.
‘You are as simple to read as your granddaughter was.’ She screamed at the other mature battler, and then pushing her shorter heavier foe back to the wall and proceeded to knee lift left and right boney knees into the hanging guts of the blue ribboned bitch, and taking a vicious knee full into her trimmed ‘salt and pepper’ coloured cunt hairs. Mrs Kulap grunted and gasped and the attack on her she guts but freed herself from the trap by clinching her taller enemy and smashing a head butt into the older vixen. Mrs Doa had manged to jerk her head to one side at the last second but the blow had bloodied her nose and blackened her left eye, and she had freed herself from the grasps of the strong younger women by sticking a thumb into Mrs Kulaps right eye in exchange. As the red fighter staggered back away from the wall holding her battered face, her blue opponent bent at the knee holding her injured sex, but then with a bellow set off after the taller women, intent on revenge. A heavy black wrapped right fist smashed into the trimmed vee of grey hair that covered Mrs Doa’s groin, eliciting a wail from the veteran brawler as her clit was crushed, and then Kulap hit an even heavier left hook into the dead centre of the taller women’s lower belly. The red fighter groaned and covered up as her blue ribboned foe now fired a barrage of lefts and rights into the body and then at the head of the retreating Mrs Doa as she padded bear foot back round the small bar to the cheers of her enemies family and the groans and encouragement from her own relations. Each family was separated on opposite walls of the small room so as to minimize the risk of impromptu knife fights interrupting the main event,
‘I am going to cunt you old bitch’, screamed Kulap, ’just like my granddaughter cut the sex out of that mongrel bitch of a granddaughter of yours’. The late fifties heavy weight had found a telling insult to the other matriarch, as her girl had had an American backpacker for her absent father, and with a snarl she retaliated. Her response to the insult was not in words but with elbows, the hard hitting extra weapon in a Thai fighter’s arsenal. A right elbow swung high busting the lips and cutting open the right eye brow of the blue lioness, stopping her dead in her tracks, and as the smaller woman cover up Mrs Doa crashed down her left elbow into the top of the right sagging breast of Kuplap, and like a true bitch fighter she dragged the crushing elbow down the heavier woman’s brutalised bosom. Kulap wailed and then screamed as the reddened mammary which she was trying to comfort in her two tapped fists as tears welled in her eyes, was further traumatised, as swivelling on her left foot the sixty plus veteran cat, planted a vicious dirty Teep Kick foot thrust full into the tit. Mrs Kulap fell backwards screaming, and would have hit the floor if she had not been propped up by the bar. The older fighter was quickly upon the shorter woman, and showing she knew this was a fight with only the bare minimum of rules, grabbed the other grandmother by her hair and smashed her face repeatedly into the hard wood of the bar-top until the younger matriarchs legs gave way and she slipped out of her grasp to the floor.
Mrs Doa stomped repeatedly on the prostrate naked body of her foe until the bars owner, the rather lax referee for the fight, intervened, and the blue fighter was helped back to her feet by her protesting family and carried back to their corner of the small room to be towelled off, and her face and crippled breast tended too. Granny Doa all the time raining more and more extreme insults and threats at the other old women, while parading her own sweaty bloody mature nakedness to all the males present, and roaring challenges to any female present who wanted to put their body on the line against her, cupping her large heavy tits in her black wrapped fists for emphasis and rubbing her grey haired dripping cunt. She was beckoned over by her family to take a large draft of the local spirits they had brought along themselves, and then the bar owner, whose oldest son was running the bets on the fight, finally decided he had manged to get as much new money out of the crowed as possible, and pulled Mrs Kulap back to her her feet and pushed her back to the centre of the room. Realising the second round was about to start Mrs Doa had jumped up and rushed across the stained floor to meet her, and both old lionesses were quickly engaged in a vicious slutting match in the centre of the dance floor.
The two black haired but greying battlers hugged each other tight with their left arms while plowing in vicious punches into each other lower body and side with their rights, in a duel of attrition which lasted nearly ten minutes. Their nude tit crushed together, with Mrs Kulap’s crippled left mammary being ground down by her older foes fitter and much less damaged right teat. Knees were also repeated fired up into the hairy cunts of the opposing matriarch, as each granny tried to split the clit of her enemy and destroy the other veteran cats will to fight, by shredding her sex. They also showed this was a real underground fistfight, as they exchanged butts and bites to each other faces and necks, and twice the smaller but heavier younger woman managed to bite and tear at her foes left ear. However it was Mrs Kulap’s extra weight and heavier punching that finally proved too much for her older lighter opponent. The late fifties battler had finally managed to power the taller woman to the bar, and then rammed her back into it, Granny Doa groaned and let her grip on the stronger woman slip for a second, but that was all it took for the other grandmother to pull back just enough for her to lower her head and snap her already bloody teeth fast onto the sixty plus lionesses right teat. As the red fighter screamed, and tried to get her thumbs into the eyes of her enemy, Mrs Kulap shook the tit in her teeth like a dog with a bone, and ground down hard, shredding and tearing, before wrenching backwards to let a jet of blood and gore gush out as she removed the sucker from Granny Doa’s teat.
‘Eye for an Eye, Tit for a Tit bitch!!!’, screamed the late fifties cat as the other matriarch wailed and fell to her knees. The bar owner this time was in fairly quickly to stop the younger women stomping too many times on her hysterical foe, and Sally had the suspicion that perhaps the owners money was on the older woman who had started very much under the odds.
Having been wiped down by their respective corners and re-greased so they glowed in the harsh light of the cellar, the two matriarchs came to scratch, their injuries roughly stopped with gauze and cotton wool. Insult flowed freely between the Red and Blue Queens and their families until with a shout the bar owner signalled the fight could recommence, as betting had dried up. Doa was a bit slower getting our from her side of the small room while her younger opponent raced on her bare feet across the boards to jump up with a vicious flying knee aimed at the face of her older foe. Luckily Kulap had not quiet timed her leaping attack right and the red queen managed to block most of the heavy blow, taking the hard knee to her shoulder. As the smaller amazon landed deftly beside her enemy Doa swiftly turned and smacked a had right hook behind the ear of the other grandmother. The blue ribbons streamed out as the late 50s battler shook from the blow, and her 60 something opponent followed this up the right with two lefts into the face of the other veteran Mia Thai fighter. Grandma Kulap was now seeing stars and staggered back, and with the extra room her taller older foe crushed her sex with a straight heel kick into the trimmed vee of her greying pubic triangle.
‘You are now finished bitch,’ screamed the taller amazon, and clinching the heavier nude sweaty, bloody and oiled body of the other veteran matriarch close to her, bruised and bitten tit to tit, challenging the smaller groggy fighter to the Thai dance of death. Mrs Kulap yelled back a challenge but was too slow in getting her knees pumping, Grandma Doa’s hard gutting knees were already striking like pistons onto the lower body guts and sex, of her enemy, scoring four or five to one against the blows of the smaller heavier Asian, doing their job of womb wrecking the younger matriarch. The smaller women tried to free herself, and block the relentless attacks of the red ribboned veteran with her own knees, but the screaming Mrs Doa was like a whirlwind, the older fighters knee strikes being quicker and wickedly low on her now blowing and destressed opponent. Hard knees shredded the protective muscles around tubes and womb and ovaries, and the 50 plus ladies well used bull clit was caught repeatedly and left bruised battered and torn. Eventually sheer exhaustion stopped the older veteran as she ran out of steam, her legs and knees now dripping from the blood from her enemy’s sex that had oozed out between her sweaty thighs as her organs were ruptured. As Doa staggered back to lean on the bar and her family cheered, Mrs Kulap just swayed, somehow still on her feet, standing in a small puddle of her own crimson. Blood also flowed freely from her mouth as she had bitten through her own tong in the agony of her destruction. The sweaty gleaming 60 plus grandmother raised her arms in victory and flaunted her drenched glowing battered nakedness to the other family who were now weeping for their defeated Blue Queen while the red ribboned warrioress sauntered around the room mocking her enemies. The older fighter now having regained her wind grabbed Mrs Kulpas left arm, and holding her in place swung a massive kick into the blue-black distended lower stomach of her foe. The other grandmother croaked and bent forward, but three more gut kicks thudded into the engorged swollen belly until with a gurgle a spray of crimson erupted from the smaller heavier Thai matriarchs mouth, and a Niagara of gore pored from between her legs as she slowly slipped to her knees, head bowed, ass in the air, in the centre of the basement, face down in a pool of her own blood.
An hour after the vicious brawl had finished, and the blood had been mostly cleaned from the floor, walls, ceiling, tables and chairs of the basement bar, Sally was nearly ready to head home. Then the door was roughly pushed open and the bar owner’s wife was pushed in ahead of five very smartly dressed men and a very frightened young woman, who appeared to be as heavily pregnant as she herself. Sally continued her mopping, but had instantly recognised the leader of the Bangkok Oros branch of the Triads, and his four heavily tattooed from head to foot, ‘captains’.
‘Thank you for the loan of your facilities ‘Uncle’, we need a bit of privacy, and one of my men has come here and seen your shows, and thought this might be what we need.’ Sally looked round, making sure not to make eye contact with the men, one of whom she recognised as a brute she had stabbed in the hand a few weeks ago for trying to get too personal with her. The woman was terrified as they dragged her to the bar and hoisted her up to place her atop one of the old high bar stalls, balancing it precariously on the dirty and pitted, wooden bar. Then one of the men produced a thick roll of black tape which he wound round her legs, pinning her in place, and then to cheers from his drunken comrades ripped off her simple black dress, leaving her in nothing but her black sheer knickers and bra. To further cheers he ripped off the bra, leaving the sobbing heavily pregnant brunette head bowed weeping, and pleading with them to let her down.
‘Your brother has run out and left you, but your family owe me a life for the death of my cousin, so now you will be paying back his blood debt to us with some entertainment.’ And that was when Sally realised that one of the gang was standing right behind her with his gun in her back. Two others quickly advanced on her and similarly dragged her up onto another tall stall tottering on the stained, beer soaked bar, and without formality her old t-shirt was ripped off of her, leaving her similarly bare breasted, facing the sobbing Thai girl, in just her worn stained blue mini-skirt, and now knickerless too of course. The old bar owner tried to object, as did his son and wife who rushed to his aid when two of the thugs started to beat him, and then all three were unceremoniously thrown back up the stairs to the main bar leaving just the five Triad and the two sweating half naked young women in the basement.
‘This Chinese bitch is called Iron Chest,’ sneered the drunken Tong leader in Thai that Sally just about understood,’ and she is the bars champion. If you win, you and your unborn scum will have a little bit longer to live. Lose and you will fall off the bar, and save me the need to have an accident arranged for you, and as you can see the Chinese girl is also six months along, so if you win, you will have saved St Josephine’s the need to feed another drug addicted new-born.’ The men all roared with laughter at the thought of the two heavily pregnant women fighting for the lives of their unborn children.
However Gin wasn’t laughing; her eyes were cold and calculating.
She had only ‘cleared a room’ for real once, but before everything in her life went wrong she had been a National Assault Shooting Championships finalist. Three drunken marines on Okinawa had decided that grabbing the teen Japanese ‘idol’ that Arimi was guarding for the weekend from a disco party would be fun, and the girls silver haired companion would be the desert, having brutalised the too pretty oriental doll. Her College, who had arranged her extra moonlighting work for a 20% cut, had wisely made sure that with her known temper and anger management issues not to allowed her to carry a weapon, but the Glock17 Gin had deftly lifted from the back pocket of the most drunken man, had blown holes through his friends before she had blown his brains out with his own gun, and left the military police with an open and shut case of a drunken shooting and suicide, saved the Idol from a scandal, and the USMC the expense for yet another rape cover up.
While the other woman sobbed, Gin swayed on the unbalanced stool and the legs slipped out from under her, and she fell towards the tallest of the muscle. Laughing, he grabbed the skank druggie Chinese woman, playfully groping her left breast , while she deftly slipped his Sig Sauer out of his waist band, flick off the safety, cocked, and shot him through the heart. The noise was slightly dampened by the man’s gut, but the next shots, as she unloaded all of the seventeen 9mm Luger rounds in the extended mag, into the five gang members, reverberated deafeningly in the enclosed basement. Her legs being tapped to the chair hampered her style, but Arimi had been the top student in assault shooting in the prefecture, and when Gin possessed her, there was never going to be mercy for the gangsters. The men were all drunk and drugged up, only one even managed to get his gun out, and the knife thrown by the last to die thudded into the bar, and came in very useful in cutting herself free. This was just in time to catch the other young woman who had been screaming at the top of her voice the whole time, and had finally fainted, from crashing off of the bar. The heads of the men who were to be her executioners had exploded one after the other, fountaining blood across her bare chest, as Gin made sure each already bullet riddled gangster was definitely not going to be able to have an open coffin funeral.
More than useful was the month’s drugs takings three of the men had brought to hand over to the Boss, tourist dollars from three dozen similar bars, for drugs, prostitution, and protection, and as a bonus stolen ready to reuse credit cards. Enough easily to purchase a new ID and airline tickets out for herself and the Thai girl.
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Now…
As the well-dressed Japanese woman walked out of the small office her two guards took station, one in front and one behind their mistress, but then she stopped and diverted to the rest room, which Coco cleared of students, before Mrs Rei entered. It was only then that her control broke down and she bent over sobbing. The picture on Nakimura’s desk, which he had hid in plain site from her husband’s two lieutenants, was of Mayu, she knew her eyes, even behind the surgical face guard, the way she bent her head and coquettishly blew the photographer a kiss from her hospital bed. Now she waited patiently for the call form her young lover, as she knew the old man had memorised her number when she had passed her phone across to him to look at. Three minutes later, before Coco could come in to check, she had calmly exited the rest room straightening her designer couture, the phone now safely crushed under a black stiletto heel, disassembled, and flushed down three different toilets. She could risk a real natural smile, her young lover and apprentice was alive and safe. She had already got back at her husband by arranging for the death of his favourite son, so next on her list for revenge was the Chinese bitch who had arranged for Mayu’s destruction, and as an added bonus rob her brother of his lover.
Helen meanwhile smiled to herself, unaware of the Siren Abbess’s plans for vengeance. Why did the woman think she had not realised Hatchet Face was wearing armour, and in expert hands like hers the ‘two two’ was quiet capable of knee capping both bodyguards quickly, which would slow them down enough for her to adjust for eye socket shots with the Browning as finishers. Did she think Gin was just some lucky amateur?