The Commission

[Armalite_]

SUMMARY:
 It is the year of 1946 and New York City's crime rates have been the highest in decades. The as the years go by, the city is overrun by the Five Organized crime Families; Bianchi, Lambardi, Marino, Romano, and Moretti. The Five Families each have their own connections in order to remain "untouchable" by the authorities and for this purpose have allied together to form the strong bond held called The Commission. Each one of the families has their own system of heirachy which is in order of the associates, soldiers, captain, consigliere, the underboss, and the don (KING). But there has been talk of which family is ultimately superior and is entitled to run the city. The Commission is beginning to crumble. Vendettas, arsons, murders, drug trafficking and extortion has caused massive friction between the families as they battle eacther in the struggle for control over the entire city. As New York's finest has run clean out of leads and are facing the struggle to take down the familes for good, furs and humans alike work on both sides. Police have sent in spies, wire taps, and are still searching for loop holes around the legal system to finally make an arrest on the Dons of New York City. As the good citizens of New York scramble for fear that the city is no longer safe, most choose to stay and struggle with the pressure of the crime syndicates. It is up to you to help decide what happens in this epic struggle for control over the city.


PLEASE READ OOC AND CHARACTER THREAD BEFORE POSTING: http://www.thefurryforum.com/forums/index.php?topic=9106.0

Spike glanced up at the rear view mirror of the car as smoke from the cigar seepped out of the small crack at the top of the window. Spike was sure he was being followed as he pulled over to the side of the narrow road between cars, only to have the other car stop maybe three or four cars behind. Spike sat quietly, low in his seat as he reached between the seats to grip the .38 Special laying on the floor. He stuffed it into the right pocket of his over coat as he glanced back at the mirror for any change of the pursuing car. The driver was a shadow, eyes pierecing through the fog of the sewer grates. He suspected the Marino family to stay within their territory but didn't seem to know better by now. "...Scum." Spike muttered to himself. He sat in his car and looked out the passenger window at the bakery owner closing up for the night. Spike opened the door of his car, trying to act inconspicuous to his follower. As he approached the glass door, he knocked after the baker turned away. The baker turned around. "We're closed, come back tomorrow." The baker gestured. Spike knocked again, slower this time. The baker turned around again. Spike tilted up his black pinstripe hat, his eyes buring a liquid gold. The owner gasped and rushed over to unlock the door. "Mr. Gambino...I...I had no id-" Spike hushed him. "Alfred, I need your help." Spike said with a tone of seriousness. "I'm being followed." Alfred peered over Spike's shoulder at the idling car down the lane. He nodded.

[KittKat chunky~]

Kistrev whistled through the night, dockside fog rolling up onto the pier, the sound echoed back and forth amongst the general background noise of the dock. Harsh whistles, the groan of cranes and loaders, and the general hubbub of workers doing they're job. The sound of heavy footsteps on the pier alerted Kistrev to Ditch and Jake arriving on the dockside, Kistrev quickly took one last drag and then threw away the catnip roll-up out into the dark rolling waters of the dock, spray caught the air every so often, coating the pier in a thin film of sea water. He turned to face the other two, Ditch was a large built wolf of dark grey fur. Jake in the contrary was short thin and pale, and most obviously, human. Kistrev embraced Ditch in only the way a younger brother could, even if he was not brother by birth. He nodded to Jake his flat cap shadowing his whiskered face, Jake on the other hand was not like an older brother, but someone who simply acknowledged Kistrev as someone not to stab in the back, hopefully. Kistrev shivered ever so slightly, a cool sea breeze blowing the sea spray in his face, he hugged himself the canvas jacket though tough and waterproof due to the waxy coating was not particularly warm. His three quarter length jeans also lacked something in the warmth area, as sea spray whipped across his fur, droplets forming and sliding off the peak of his flat-cap...

"So! hows little Kistrev feeling about his first day working on the docks?" Kistrev looked back at Ditch and smiled weakly. "well, hopefully, good?" The other two laughed and turned back to the pier "right! you're going to be working with us on pier fourteen for tonight, we're unloading a small barge. Should be easy enough for a beginner!" The two led the way towards a smaller pier, one black with the tar used to waterproof it, to were a long low coal barge was slowly turning into the break water, the dull thud of its motor heard distinctly through the quiet dock. Another noise alongside the low groan of dock winches and the long blow of a foghorn, its mournfull note echoed across the bay, the grey morose fog curling over the dark sloshing waters...

[Armalite_]

"Be careful Mr. Gambino." Alfred whispered to Spike, leading him out the back door of the bakery. "Thank you, Alfred." Spike said back before turning down the alleyway back into the street behind the pursuing car. Spike walked quickly but was careful not to run or take his time, his black loafers, sloshing through puddles on his way back to his car. He lifted the flap to his right pocket, slipping his hand inside around the weapon. He returned to the street, peering aroudn the corner. The car was still in idle, its driver perfectly still, fixed on the small bakery. The lights shut off in the small business and Alfred walked through the door, the small bell rang overhead as the door swung open and closed. Spike watched as his follower, a lion, stepped out of the car and approached the baker walking away. "You! Stop!" The figure yelled to the human heading home from a day's work. Alfred whipped around. "Where did that man go!? Where is he!?" The lion yelled again, covering space along the sidewalk towards him. The streets were quiet when Alfred replied. "I don't know who you're talking about." Alfred said innocently. Spike's pursuer pulled onto Alfred's shirt below the neck and held out a knife to Alfred's stomach. "Tell me." Alfred gasped, overwhelmed with fear.

There was a brief silence, broken by the sound of a hammer cocking back against the back of the lion's head. Spike stood behind the follower, now frozen. "I'm right here." Spike said before he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gun echoed through the street and the flash from the muzzle lit up Alfred's expression as his face was sprayed with blood. The lagre body of the lion dropped to the floor. Alfred stood frozen, covered with his assailant's blood. "You okay?" Spike asked Alfred. Alfred looked up at Spike. "Yes." He replied quietly. "Good. Help me get the body into my car." Spike said, pocketing the gun and grabbing the legs.

[KittKat chunky~]

Kistrev jumped back as the next crate of coal slammed down onto the pier, coal tumbled out over the sides and skidded over the black tar coated jetty and Kistrev scampered after them. It was his job to help get as much of the loose coal as possible and save money, as well as help guide in the crane with the coal crates. He threw them back onto the black pile of sooty coal, glistening in the night reflected from the muffled moon from the thick sea fog that had gained the consistency of pea soup. Kistrev muttered something as he hugged his sides, sea spray glistening on his canvas jacket, keeping his flatcap low against the whipping salty assault. The next crate smashed down onto the pier with a lot more force, one of the wooden bars smashed under the impact, spilling coal out into the dark foaming sea. Kistrev could hear the crane driver swearing. And then the sharp crack of a small automatic pistol and a splash One of the Romano officers had shot the driver and pulled him out the crane, to be replaced by a more competent fur. Everyone looked everywhere else but at this ordeal, better to not have seen, to not have known. But Kistrev's eyes where drawn to this act of violence, like a moth drawn to a flame. He was only brought back when a particularly large sea spray caught him in the face drenching him, his wax coated canvas jacket overcome with salty water, his fur sopping wet. Glistening as he swore and Ditch chuckled, a fog horn sounding across the bay, the siren of mourning...

[Armalite_]

Spike handed Alfred a rag as he drove. "Sorry about the mess." He said as Alfred wiped down his face. "Thank you for saving my life." Alfred replied. Spike tried to force a smile, instead, he kept his eyes on the road, a stern look set upon his face. "...Don't mention it." He stopped outside Alfred's house. "Have a good night, Mr. Gambino." Alfred said as he stepped out. "You too." Spike replied before he took off down the road, the body thumping around in the back of the trunk as the car swerved around corners.

The car pulled up to the gates at the Lombardi Compound in the heart of Brooklyn. A soldier approached Spike's car, a flash light in hand. As Spike was temporarily blinded, the soldier lowered the torch and waved him through. Spike slowly drove behind the main building, and stopped next to one of the garbage trucks. He shut off the engine and stepped out where he was greeted by a fur on break, having a smoke, sitting next to the cellar doors. "Spike...Back so soon?" The was a low growl of a laugh. "Glad to see me, Frankie, you darn fool?" Spike replied chuckling as Frankie stood up, giving him a hug. Frankie was certainly a large fellow, a cutthroat tiger, who seemed to always liked drinking himself happy after a long day's work of chopping up bodies to accommodate the garbage bags. Spike always wondered how he kept his vest and sleeves perfectly clean and white without getting a speck of blood on them. "Listen, Frank, I got a little job for ya." Spike said scratching his nose. Frankie crossed his arms. Without saying a word, Frank was already on his way over to the trunk of Spike's car. He pulled up the hatch, the hinges creaking as it opened. Frankie took one look at the body. "...Good shot." Frank complimented with a laugh before pulling the body out of the trunk and over one of his massive shoulders.

[KittKat chunky~]

"HEYOOO!" *the loud cry of the dockmaster was punctuated by the dock-blower, a large horn that sounded the midnight break. This was then overcome by the large tramp of boots on wooden piers as everyone moved off to the dock huts for a quick smoke, game of cards or to fall asleep for half an hour. Kistrev walked with Ditch and another Wolf shovering slightly, the sea fog was making work cold and slow, sea spray making the piers treacherous underfoot. He stamped his bare paws, attempting to beat some warmth back into them, his flatcap was soaked and it dripped down onto his whiskers. He paid little attention to the conversation between Ditch and the other wolf, though he did catch a few words, all of which where obscure and about delivering something. A package of some kind. Kistrev was too tired and wet to care much, and was glad for the warm, if rather must and dank dockshed. The dark interior was lit dimly with old fashioned storm lanterns, the room hit Kistrev both with warmth, noise and smell as he entered. All the workers where sitting round low tables or crates, setting down to relax for half an hour before the night shift began again. Kistrev settled down in a corner with two of the other younger furs, Denhil and Ostrel. Both where Foxes and Ospreys respectively and they met Kistrev with a tired greeting, Kistrev returned the greeting halfheartedly as he pulled out a catnip roll-up from the waterproof pocket on his jacket. The only place that had seemed to stay dry on him, lighting it with difficulty from a damp box of matches he took a long drag, he yawned widely, his whiskers bristling as he sat down onto a large crate. The sound of chatter, laughter and Denhil and Ostrel talking washed over him. His life it seemed could only get better...

[Armalite_]

 Spike walked around to the front of the main building in the compound. It wasn't a large place, but you could still get lost. He walked in through the doors lined with brass and into the house. He greeted the guards standing outside the office, telling jokes, and making comments on the weather we'd been having lately. "Is Angelo free?" Spike asked. One of the guards stopped laughing to answer his question. "Nah, the boss is seeing someone right now. He should be done any minute now." Spike looked down the hall to see Angelo's wife in the kitchen. She was an old lady, very sweet and caring. She always tried to give Spike the food she'd made for dinner hours earlier and Spike began to wonder why she wasn't asleep yet. "Spike! My boy!" She cried. "Where have you been!?" She rushed over in her bunny slippers to give him a hug and two kisses on the face. "Good evening, Andria." Spike said back smiling. "Spike, whya you getting so tall?" Spike looked down at her and laughed. "It's all the food you keep giving me." He replied. Andria laughed. "Oh Spike, never too slow with the jokes." She said. "Want some cookies? I just made them?" Spike made a face. "Um, no thanks." She scowled. "Fine. How bout you two?" She asked the two guards. They nodded. She smiled and looked back at Spike, pressuring him with her old face. Spike sighed. "Fine." She laughed.

Spike walked in through the doors of Angelo's office, chewing on his large cookie like a child. Angelo looked at him like he was crazy. Spike looked at him as he sat down in the leather chair. "Oh, Andria made cookies." The don sighed. "So it would seem." He laughed. "How are you doing, Spike?" He asked, lighting a cigar. "I'm doin' just fine." Spike said. "So what brings you here at this time of night?" Angelo asked. "I was followed by some punk all the way from Jersey."Spike replied, pulling off his hat, and slicking back his hair. Angelo's expression turned to anger. "WHAT!? What happpened!?" He demanded. "I capped him...Frankie's dealing with him now." Spike replied, trying to calm him down. "Well wha'd he look like?" The don asked. "Dunno, uhh,  he was a lion, big guy, real shady, low toned, carried this." Spike said, throwing a knife down on the large desk. Angelo picked up the weapon and inspected it. "Spike...the man you killed was the Romano's son Jimmy...Do you know what that means?" Spike knew exactly what that meant. They'd be all over this. It could turn into a war if they wern't careful. "The last thing I need is a vendetta against me for the murder of a don's son, especially the Romanos." Angelo said again. "What the monkey was he doing following you anyway!?" Angelo broke the cigar in half, tobacco rained down on the desk. "Go home, Spike. I'll deal with this." Angelo said. "Okay, good night, Angelo." Spikes said, standing up.

[KittKat chunky~]

"OK! you Romano fleabags! up and at em! we've still got six hours till dawn, and these loads arent gonna shift themsels you know!" The dockmaster was bending his fury across the workers backs, like a well experienced metal smith. He also seemed to be looking exceptionally at the three younger furs, including Kistrev. The dockmaster was an otter, an otter with a mean reputation on this stretch of the piers. He loomed over the younger furs like a wolf over a small rabbit... "AND WHAT DO YOU SORRY EXCUSES FOR WORKERS THINK YA' L DOIN?!" the three jumped up immediatly, Kistrev hastily stamping a catnip-smoke underfoot as they rushed back out into the whipping salty assault of sea spray under the stern, if twitching eye of the dockmaster.

"You know the Don's son dont ya? yer, the lion, big guy.... Romano through and through... yeah, well i gotta say hes more of a little pussycat!"
The group walking ahead of Kistrev and his mates where a mix of humans and furs, the one on the right hand side seemed to be sharing a joke with the others... suddenly and officer of the Romano took three paces towards the group from where he'd been interogating others and with the fleshy thunk the fur who had made the joke was on the pier on all fours gasping in pain at his broken arm, the officer standing over him, crowbar in hand...
"i think both i, and all youre comrades will swear they saw you slip on the wet pier and break your arm, i also think you will take the next week off, expect a pay cut... and to never make jokes about the Romano don again..." the officer spat on the diminshed worker before stepping back into the shadows...

Kistrev looked over at Ostrel, "i suppose thats what you get if you mess with the romano's eh?" he chuckled pulling his flatcap down over his eyes against the sea spray... leaving the joker to crawlk to his feet and explain to his fiance that he had slipped over on the pier, and that they may not be able to get quite enough to pay for the marriage... a small world in the heart of new york...

[Armalite_]

The drive home wasn't slow. Spike couldn't wait to put his feet up. His teeth clenched the cigar as his hands gripped the wheel. There was very little traffic in the city this time of night as people knew it was dangerous and knew better than to be wandering the streets. Who knew what goons or thugs would be lurking in the shadows. A certain type of goon or thug that would put a bullet between your eyes for looking at him differently or showing the slightest bit of fear and they wouldn't lose a wink of sleep over it either. A sinister grin crossed Spike's face.

Spike slowed to a stop outside the twelve story apartment at 1224 86th Street and cut the engine to the Ford. He sighed and opened the glove box, pulling out a gold ring and sliding it down his finger of his right hand before he stepped out of the car. He walked in through the revolving doors and past the desk to the elevators. The door slid open, he stepped in before pressing the number 7. The doors closed, and the familiar music began to play as white noise in the back of Spike's head. He fell into a trance, his gold eyes staring blankly in the blurry reflection about himself cast on the brass door as he revised the events of the day in his memory. The door slid open to reviele a long longway complete with red carpet. He walked to the the apartment of the Gambino residence and inserted the key in the door. The door opened and the smell of home welcomed him. The apartment was dark and he knew better to wake the wife and kids. Instead, he quietly manouvered his way around furniture and into the master bathroom. He took a quick shower before getting dressed for bed, sliding in beside Mrs. Gambino, giving her a kiss before drifting off to sleep.

[Scautty]

I wobbled my throbbing head... Big hit last night.

An intensifying heat rested in my neck, slowly feeling a crisp under my sweat. No matter the burn, I remained Stalvos E. Vismund. Under such an identity, I stood across the motherload - Cygnus Tyler. He was known for his legal thievery. My scam? Learn from the master, of course. It was a matter of beating around the bush. Nothing could be spoiled.

"I believe your proposal is as important to get me out of work?" He stood, crossly under his black umbrella. He couldn't seem less defenseless. "Ha, quite important." I pulled out a cigar, pointing it to him. He shyed away, allowing my lightin of it and taking in the smoke myself. "I've got a good deal under this belt, good sir." I continued puffing. "Well hurry it up, it's boiling!" His mouth was running off edge, into a good breaking point of mine.

"The Unison's got their leader under wraps, I hear. Completely idiotic. No power under the comrades. I'm here to tell you this..." I ejected the cigar from my mouth, "... because the duty you're under can kill this jerk and see this group fall from the top down."
"How do you say it will work this way?"
"If you haven't realized, anyone and everyone will have a good view of their leaders' insides from the rear. Merely because of what they can pay." He scoffed, "... So with a team you've got, taking care of this guy will be a breeze. Once done, the peons won't have pay. And without pay..."
"... Chaos." He looked away, pondering. "Bingo. So. You up to it?" I returned the cigar to my mouth. "Slight risk don't you think? They've got a tight family, but I'd say they could make a good strike back in hand. Who is their leader?" I smiled. "His name is Selba Oliander." I looked at him.
"Hm..." He continued thinking. "He's been a thorn in their side since the beginning. He's got a record, but..."
"A record? ... No no no. I don't want police on me." He closed his umbrella.
"Afraid of the Po-Cops, eh? Fine with me. You've got a reputation to uphold, I assume?" "Quite the reputation! One that doesn't need to be dirtied by such a snivelling group that can't handle such a problem!" Haha. The act is over.

"Well it's about time we wrapped things up then. I reccomend you don't see what may happen next..."

I stabbed the cigar into his eye. His bloodcurdling scream hinged him back, grasping his face. In this time, I jumped into my car and managed a break for home. A shot was fired, going through the back tire, but still treaded on to my broken down apartment.
~~~
Cygnus Tyler was found dead earlier today. Beaten to death, the coot.

The Unison actually had a strong pact under their leader, so my plan was to use such power to kill off a man that had taken the innocent's money. Under my disguised name, my meeting with him was to persuade him to kill the leader of The Unison - but the name I gave was not the leader. After secretly recording the conversation beyond telling the name of this "leader," I provided this recording to The Unison. To their ears, they believed he insulted them on a continuous failed hit - on Selba Oliander. That was bait enough to kill him, a man insulting the group already under such fire. As for the role I played... Undetected suspect of the killing.

I reached for my whiskey flask, downing it as I overheard the news talk about Tyler's oh so tragic death. Can't wait to see his banking activity fall onto the praisers ears.

This was my job - Undercover for no one, but the community. I will not be known, just to find ways to rid those stealing fingers through trickery and tactic. I am Escaut Gerseman, mercenary hitman.

[KittKat chunky~]

Ditch greeted Kistrev with a warm embracing hug, as his younger half brother almost literally collapsed into his arms... "i suppose tonight was a long night for you little brother!" He laughed loudly and Kistrev gave a weak smile, they walked off towards the dockside apartments.... Ditch lived on the sixth floor, but since Kistrev had come of age he'd been given his own apartment, on the 5th floor... he fumbled with the keys, sleep beckoning, turning his arms to sacks  of mud, the keys tiny slithering eels, he pushed the door open roughly. Stepping into the small apartment, a smell of catnip, slivovica and burnt haddock met him with a warm sweet embrace. Throwing himself onto the couch which also served as his bed he snored almost as soon as his head hit the pillow...

Morning light, pallid, and filtered through his crappy venetian blinds slowly crawled across the room.. objects came into focus, a small stove and sink, old TV that used to be Ditches and a couch upon which a feline lay sprawled. He was still wearing his heavy wax coated, canvas jacket and flatcap as well as his damp three quarter lengths, as the sunlight made its way up towards his face he groaned, rolling over and holding up a hand as if to defend himself from the poking, stabbing light... He slid off the couch and made his way to the shower, cold water, cold... VERY cold... it was like a slap to the face, and Kistrev shook his head as he dried himself, pulling on his work clothes again... and with a jangle of fumbled keys he stepped out into the cold musty stairwell, the cracked concrete a map of some nonexistent, all sprawling streets and alleys.... it was his day off, some time to go to town and pick up some stuff from the market before it all got sold, and then most likely sleep...

The front door to the flat was old, and wouldn't have presented a problem even to Kistrev to pop the lock, however no one did... because this was Romano residence, and popping the lock could mean someone popping your head.... Kistrev didnt realise the significance of being a part of the Romano, the only significance he knew was that of his older half-brother Ditch, and the fact that he still had to walk several blocks the morning downtown market. Groaning he set into a walk, as the slow, lazy sunlight woke the city ....

[Armalite_]

"Spike, I need you to pick up a gallon of milk and some cannoli for tonight." Spike lowered the newspaper from his face and removed his reading glasses as he sat at the breakfast table. His two children sat staring between them, their mouths stuffed with toast. "Why do you need a gallon of milk?" Spike's wife, Eve, turned around from the stove. "Just buy a gallon." She said. Spike raised the newspaper back to his face. "...I'll buy half a gallon." Eve's red and white tail flicked twice without her turning around to give him the death stare. "...I'll buy a gallon." Spike said. Daniel, Spike's youngest son, giggled as he sat in his high chair. Spike smiled and went back to reading old news about the Commission in the paper, the Yankees, and the weather. Spike took a final sip from his coffee and looked at his watch. "Oh, I gotta go. Have a good day at school, kids." He said as he stood up, giving Eve a peck on the cheeck before leaving. "Bye bye, daddy."  Jake, his older son, waved.

Spike walked out the doors of his apartment and over to his car. The streets were alive with people trying to get to work, vedors trying to make a living, even those trying to influence the word of God. He got into the Ford and started the engine. He pulled into the street and began his way over to the market to buy the groceries for the wife. He sighed as he waited in the stop and go traffic.

[KittKat chunky~]

Kistrev walked down the street, the sound of slow moving traffic filling the air, along with said slow moving traffic's fumes... the morning light was still pallid and weak as it dragged itself over the sky scraper. Kistrev walked past a street vendor, brushing away his show of fruits, and also palming the poor sod's wallet... he turned the corner onto one of the larger main roads, this was maple street, leading straight to the downtown market it was a-bustle with with drivers, pedestrians and Kistrev... He jumped out in front of a ford and walked across the road, the traffic so slow it was no more dangerous to do this than cross on the zebra crossing. He walked over to the other side in the direction of the market... it was a vast sea of stalls, all topped with a coloured top to stop the rain, so the whole outdoor market was a sea of blue and white, and red and white stripes, as well as every other colour imaginable....

[Armalite_]

Spike slammed on the brakes as a cat jumped out in front of his car. "Whoa! Jeez! What are ya? Nuts!?" He yelled out the window. He shook his head and returned to the traffic. After tapping away at the steering wheel with his thumbs, he decided to pull over and park to explore the rest of the market on foot. He shut off the engine and stepped out, re-adjusting his hat as he looked both way before crossing. As he walked past countless stands of fruits and vegetables he walked past a puppet show being displayed. Then to his surprise he spotted someone from the corner of his eye. "...Romano..." Spike said, clenching his teeth. The don sat amongst the adults, watching the puppets fight and argue eachother. Spike stood in the crowd next to the stand. "No guards." Spike said to himself. This was his chance to finally take out one of the most wanted on the Lombardi list. Spike stopped to think as he watched the don laughed with the children. There would be countless witnesses and then he wondered if he'd found out that Spike had killed his son. He seemed oblivious to the fact, still, having his son follow him meant there was something Spike should be worried about.

Spike rushed past, the lion escaping from view as he walked further in the opposite direction. What would Angelo do? He asked himself over and over in his head. Not focusing on where he was going, be bumped into the same cat that jumped in front of his Ford. "...You..."

[KittKat chunky~]

Kistrv ambled along through the stalls, he had already picked up what little shopping he required and had stopped trying to light up some nip... the rollup caught and burnt a dark green flame before settling down, he turned to walk back down the line of stalls and bumped straight into a fox wearing a dark suit.... normally he would have simply attempted to palm the losers wallet but he had already recognised him and exclaimed...

"You"

... "me?" Kistrev had taken a step back from the stranger and was already working out the posibilities, over that stall and under..... there! hed seen his chance for escape but he did not take it yet, hed hear out the stranger, he may not even know Kistrev for who he was.... you got some wierd folk in New york city...