CHAPTER THREE: BROCKTON BAY’S GANGS

PRT Threat Assessment Office

Shikamaru spread three files across his desk.

Empire 88.

Azn Bad Boys.

The Merchants.

Each folder was overstuffed with arrest records, territory maps, and incident reports—enough paperwork to bury a lesser man. He lit a cigarette (his third this shift) and exhaled, watching the smoke coil toward the open window.

“This city runs on three things: hate, desperation, and sheer dumb luck.”

The Empire had numbers, discipline, and firepower. The ABB had Lung—or at least, they had him. Now? Now they had rage and no leash. The Merchants were a disorganized mess, but that could easily just be a ruse to keep people off their tail.  

Still, a single spark was all that was needed, and the whole thing would go up in flames.  

“Troublesome.”

. . . . .

PRT HQ – Cafeteria

The explosion rattled the windows.

Shikamaru didn’t even glance up from his coffee. Across the room, analysts scrambled for terminals, voices overlapping in frantic reports.

”—Empire and ABB clashing near Lord Street—”

”—civilian casualties reported—”

”—nearest response team is ten minutes out—”

He sighed, stubbing out his cigarette.

Then he got up.

. . . . .

Command Center

The scene on the monitors was chaotic. The Empire thugs exchanged gunfire with ABB members behind overturned cars. A stray shot had already shattered a storefront window.  

Reynolds was barking orders into a headset. "Containment perimeter around nearby streets! Redirect traffic—"  

Shikamaru leaned over his shoulder and tapped the screen. “Block this alley instead. That’ll funnel them toward the empty lot. No civilians, no collateral damage.”

Reynolds blinked. “What?”

“Just do it.”

To his credit, Reynolds hesitated only a second before relaying the order.

Eight minutes later, the fight fizzled out—no casualties, minimal damage.

 . . . . .

Director Piggot’s Office

Piggot studied him like a problem she couldn’t quite solve.

“Quick thinking today,” she said.

Shikamaru shrugged. “Basic tactics.”

“Basic tactics my analysts missed.” She tapped a pen against the desk. “You military?”

“Just lucky.”

Her gaze sharpened. “Luck doesn’t redirect gang fights, Nara.”

He met her eyes without flinching. “No. But laziness does. Less paperwork if they don’t wreck half the block.”

For the first time since he’d started here, Piggot looked almost amused.

“Dismissed.”

. . . . .

PRT Bulletin Board

The memo was stamped URGENT in red ink.

ABB ACTIVITY SPIKE – POSSIBLE RETALIATION FOR LUNG’S CAPTURE

Shikamaru read it twice.

Then he lit another cigarette.

“They’re not just angry. They’re scared.”

And scared men with nothing left to lose…?

“That’s when things get really troublesome.”