It was a beautiful morning. One of the remaining tall structures in downtown provided a shining spire. The coming morning light would soon reveal the wretched decay of the building below the one remaining shining spire of reflected light. The rest of the once immaculate structure had crumbled over the last decade or so due to neglect. Nobody was willing to pay to demolish the wreck, though, so it slowly decayed over time.

The morning stillness was troubled by a loud thump and a cloud of debris blown high into the air of the WSFZ sky. Sirens and screams soon followed.

By noon, things had quieted down. Somebody had tried to bomb White Jasmine. They had not counted on the reinforced composite construction of the building. Added to the tough construction was the fact that they had closed blast shutters over the doors and windows when they closed up.

A good number of the people of the free zone were injured to different degrees. A few had died. Charity groups sent missions to the Zone with supplies and medical professionals.

The "I" of the old sign from the old spire was dislodged by the shockwave and fell into the deserted street and remained so even after the cleanup crews left.

---===+++===---

“Good morning, honored adversary,” said the Tong representative on the large screen.

“Good morning. To what do I owe the honor of your call?” replied Jeremiah as he sipped a steaming cup of jasmine green tea.

“My name is Kahn Huong. I represent an organization you might be aware of. Since we respect you and your group, I wanted to offer help in your time of conflict with the Soviets…”

“And, what, might I ask, would be the cost of this ‘Help’?” replied Jeremiah.

“We seem to have mislaid some merchandise recently. I understand that your organization might be able to restore it to us, for a nominal fee, of course…”

“I truly feel sorrow for your loss. I will be happy to keep an eye out for your property, but I am not aware of its location at this time. Maybe you should speak with one or more of the other groups in our area… I hear the Americans have many groups who might be willing to help you. I will ask our friends in the Skeleton Crew if you like. I have been working closely with them.” The wolfish smile on Jeremiah’s face was understated, but a very clear message. The Crew would be an ally. Attempts to divide and conquer would go poorly. It was a less-than-subtle message to stay out of this fight.

“Thank you, I will ask around elsewhere. I wish you well in your discussion with the Russians and their friends. They can be very ‘excitable’… If you change your mind about our offer, please give me a call. You have my number…”

“I have had your number for quite some time, Kahn. Have a pleasant and profitable day, my friend.” Said Jeremiah with an intense glare before cutting the connection abruptly. Looking over to one of the other displays, he could monitor the activity of his IT team as they cracked another layer of the Soviet network security.

Jeremiah had to hand it to them, their firewalls were pretty tough. Too bad he breached their airgapped systems a week ago. This was just a feint.  His own systems were intact as the soviet teams pillaged the honeypots he had left for them.

Progress reports from Grey kept coming in on a regular basis. The properties had been secured and all liquid assets were protected. The “Crew” and Bubba were in lockdown with heavy security in place. Everything was ready for a major siege. The enemy would pay dearly for the harm they had already done.

The next call was a video call that came through Jeremiah’s computer.

On the screen was a 40s-looking Japanese man with his glossy black hair swept back in a neat ponytail. He was wearing a kimono that gaped at the neck and upper chest. The opening in the kimono displayed elaborate tattoos in vibrant colors. “Good morning, honored adversary. I hear you have a problem with the Russians down there in WSFZ. We understand that there have been some... explosive events... Would you like to negotiate with us for a bit of backup?”

“I fear I must decline, Oyabun Isame. This is a private and personal dispute. The dishonorable actions of one of their family members have caused us to reconsider our peaceful stance about the other organizations here.”

“I understand that honorable dedication. We would welcome the opportunity to help, though. The Yakuza would stand with you against such barbaric people.”

“May I call you by your given name?”

“Of course. We have known each other for many years. You put on an excellent tea. Your bourbon is quite nice, too.”

“Haruto-san, in view of our shared history, I would hate to confuse any other parties by showing too much familiarity between us. You have enemies that would be provoked to do you harm if such an alliance came to be perceived. I thank you and your people for the offer. Once we have peace again, we must sit and enjoy part of my bourbon collection.”

“I thank you for the respect and consideration you show us. Since you have been a good friend and rival, I will have some forces available should you need them. We might ‘accidentally’ end up doing a few ‘training runs’ in the same area as your conflict. I hope you will forgive our intrusion if that happens.”

“Accidents happen, Haruto-san, but I would be cautious if I were you.”

“Understood. I look forward to our next meeting. I also look forward to helping you empty your liquor cabinet. Maybe we could even make some business deals at that time.

“Be well, and I wish you a fun battle with these miscreants. Farewell, Jeremiah-san!”

The call to Grey connected right away. “Grey, Haruto, and Kahn have already called today to offer help in our conflict. Who else are we expecting to chime in?”

“We have not heard from the American southerners yet. I expect Bubba to take a side soon. Lexi may waffle a bit, or even stay neutral.”

Jeremiah frowned. It would have been so easy to just blow the Russians up in their beds. Still, those who would offer help in a pinch would not be fond of the image that such extreme acts would engender. “What have we heard from the Cubans and the Cartels?”

“They see it as not their problem. If it costs them money, they are likely to be of a different mood, though.”

“Do us all a favor and reach out to our friends in the ‘clubs’. They may have an opinion.”

---===+++===---

Later in the same day, the phone on Jeremiah’s desk rang again, “Good afternoon. How may I help you?”

A distorted voice on the other end could be heard to say, “Beware. Contracts have been taken out,” and the line went dead.

After that, Bubba called. He was eloquent in his simplicity, “Them reds better have a hole dug so we can plant ‘em deep enough.”

“That’s okay, friend. We have a backhoe!”

“Happy huntin’, brother!” was all Jeremiah heard before the big man busted out laughing and hung up.