I do not own the Resident Evil movies or their characters.

Rules

Daniel watched in silence as their targets stood around in the warehouse, smoking crack, cleaning guns, trading money, and one even injecting heroine. Daniel hated drugs. His father had ODed on Heroine when Daniel was young.

"Your move Daniel," one of Daniel's two co-leaders' voices whispered in his ear from the earpiece communicator.

"Richard, first shot's yours," Daniel whispered.

After several seconds of silence, one who was almost finished putting his pistol back together suddenly got painted red as the head of the guy beside him suddenly burst like a water balloon. Daniel squeezed off the next round, dropping the guy that got painted, his suppressor and subsonic rounds not giving away his position at all, except for the face that the bullet exploded out of the back of the guy's head. A third member got tagged in the face before any of the others had even begun to react to the fact that they were dying. A moment later, the rest of the shooters in Daniel's gang opened fire. He had brought a grand total of fifteen shooters, as usual. His gang was about fifty strong, but the fifteen he had brought this time were his best shots. Daniel squeezed off a second round, the bullet drilling through one guy's head as he finished assembling his AK47, then punched into the next guy's groin, dropping him to the ground where Daniel took pity on him and finished him off. Suddenly, someone threw the cover off of a wooden crate, revealing RPGs, hand grenades, and a claymore mine. However, as all but five of their targets rushed the crate for RPGs, someone from Daniel's shooters, he'd bet money on it being the co-leader he had brought, put a bullet in one of the grenades, the entire crate erupting into a massive fireball and hail of shrapnel, slaughtering all of the remaining targets, even the five that hadn't gone for an explosive.

"Main force will arrive in forty five," Daniel's co-leader warned. "Blues in four hundred.

"Secondary positions," Daniel said.

He stood, sprinting to the right and dropping off of the roof to a lower one, then to the ground in an alleyway. Then, he sprinted up the wall of the next building for three steps before jumping to a fire escape and scrambling up it, dropping into the prone on the roof of that building, sighting in on the warehouse again as his co-leader reached the warehouse's roof, opening a skylight and setting a speaker beside it, then moved to a different skylight, opening it and pulling the belt of grenades he was carrying off, nodding to Daniel. Daniel quickly scanned the rest of his shooters, seeing they were all in position. A moment later, a dozen vehicles screeched to a stop around the warehouse, nearly fifty well-armed men sprinting into the warehouse, looking around as Daniel connected his phone to the bluetooth speaker Michael had placed.

"Hello gentlemen," Daniel said, the targets all spinning and looking around, all taking cover. "Unfortunately for all of you, a rival hired us against you. You have approximately five minutes until the police show up. We'll be gone by then, and you can either be dead, or you can accept the terms. The terms are as follows. You're to surrender all arms and ammunition, cease all trade operations, and meet for further negotiations with a representative of your rival group."

"We'll never accept the terms!" the leader of their targets shouted. "Kill them all!"

Their targets opened fire, peppering the buildings around the warehouse with bullets. Daniel's co-leader tossed two grenades into the ranks of the targets and took out almost half of them instantly. The rest were instantly sent into a panic and Daniel and his shooters opened fire, dropping them rapidly. Finally, the leader raised his hands, signaling surrender.

"We'll meet!" the leader said. "We accept the terms!"

"Throw all of your weapons into the corner of the warehouse and walk outside, past the vehicles, and into the alleyway marked with the red 'X,'" Daniel instructed. "You have a minute and a half before you all go to jail."

The remaining targets quickly hurled their weapons away and Daniel disconnected his phone from the speaker as his co-leader grabbed it. Daniel dialed their client.

"They're enroute to the meet up," Daniel said, doing a quick headcount. "Twelve unwounded, including the leader. Expect concealed handguns."

He hung up and put his phone away, he and the rest of his shooters moving into position, arriving just as the targets were all halfway through the winding alleyway, far enough away from the police to keep from being arrested. Just in time, too, because a moment later, the warehouse was flooded with Raccoon City Police. Daniel knelt on the side of a building, doing a quick cursory search of the targets.

"I count at least five handguns," Daniel said quietly. "Michael, do your thing."

Michael, his co-leader, got into position and sighted in, dropping one of the men with a handgun, Daniel dropping a second, and Richard a third.

"Drop the handguns or we keep dropping you," Cameron, another of Daniel's shooters, called out before switching to a different spot.

The targets all pulled a handgun from somewhere on their bodies and tossed them aside.

"Continue along the alleyway," Daniel said. "You'll be picked up at the end."

The targets continued, running this time, and Daniel and his shooters followed on the rooftops. Finally, they reached the end of the alleyway and a dozen blacked out SUVs pulled up, one of the doors opening and men armed with M4s stepped out, aiming at them. Daniel's targets all piled in instantly and each of the armed men that had gotten out set a briefcase down before getting back in. Daniel and his shooters climbed quickly to the street and grabbed the briefcases before scattering into the alleyways, all finding a manhole and dropping into the sewer. A few minutes later, they climbed out in a back alley behind their gang's hangout. They all walked inside and dropped the briefcases on a table where Daniel's other co-leader, Gabriel, Daniel's non-related twin, was working on a laptop.

"Another successful job, I assume," Gabriel said.

"Is it ever not?" Daniel asked, setting his rifle in a rack and pulling the gloves he was wearing off, setting them and the headset down on the table before opening the twelve briefcases, doing a quick scan of the money. "We didn't even get any marked bills. I'm almost disappointed."

"You're disappointed they followed the rules?" Gabriel asked.

"A little," Daniel said. "I've been itching to get payed to take that group out. Or for an excuse."

"They have been getting pretty ambitious lately," Gabriel agreed. "A grand says they're after the Dragon Bloods."

"Then they're going to get slaughtered," Daniel said. "I'm going to go change and wash the sewer off."

"Thank God," Gabriel said. "I was afraid I'd have to smell you all day."

Daniel chuckled, walking to his room in the hangout and grabbing a fresh set of clothes, then walking to the bathroom and stripping, scrubbing himself clean before getting dressed in his new clothes and walking back to the main area. As he arrived, The others were walking in as well.

"Yo Daniel, can we do the thing?" Michael asked.

"You know how much I hate going there," Daniel said.

"Hey, they know the rules as much as anyone, probably more since they're one of the business gangs," Michael said.

"Fine," Daniel sighed. "I know you won't drop this until I agree anyway, so sure. We can go. Gabriel, you coming?"

"Which thing are we doing?" Gabriel asked, setting the last of the money back in its briefcase and closing it.

"Crusty Rusty's," Daniel said.

"Oh Jesus," Gabriel sighed, shutting his computer and standing, grabbing his jacket. "Why don't we ever go anywhere nice?"

"You know you love Crusty Rusty's," Michael smirked.

"The name describes it perfectly," Gabriel said, the three of them walking out of the hangout together.

Michael was wearing a black v-neck tee-shirt, a black belt with a silver rectangle buckle, and dark jeans with a dark trench coat with white fir around the edge of the hood and around the bottom and ends of the sleeves. Daniel had told him a million times that it was a stupid coat, but it did suit Michael, so Michael ignored him. Daniel was currently wearing a black shirt with three-quarter sleeves, black jeans, and black steel-toed work boots. Gabriel, being the gang's tech guy and brains, was dressed to show it, wearing a pair of blue trousers, a white teeshirt, and a blue suit jacket with a Chinese high collar where it was clasped around his neck.

"I don't see how you can comfortably wear that thing," Daniel said as they walked from one back alley to the next.

"I don't see how you can say that every time you see me in it," Gabriel said. "You would do well to dress nicely once in a while."

"Not when we're going to Crusty Rusty's," Daniel snorted.

"Ah let him ruin his multiple thousand dollar suit," Michael chuckled. "We'll just throw on something else whenever we need to."

"I don't think you can talk about expensive clothes," Daniel said. "Your coat alone is ten grand."

Michael shrugged. "Fire proof and bullet resistant is expensive."

Daniel shook his head, reaching up and brushing his bangs to the right. He and Gabriel both had black hair that they kept to the right, and looked completely identical, despite not having any relation at all, at least by blood. Gabriel's family had adopted Daniel after Daniel's parents had died. Michael, on the other hand, kept his slightly lighter black hair about the same length but parted it in the middle, leaving it otherwise messy. All three were well built, with a decent median between bulk and lean muscle. Michael had the most bulk, though not by a whole lot, and was also the most toned, making his muscles stick out perfectly. Daniel was the most average for muscle tone and size. Gabriel had mostly lean muscle, and was the least toned, but was no less deadly a fighter than the other two. All three had been trained to shoot, fight bare handed, and fight with knives for years. Daniela and Gabriel both kept a tanto on them, Gabriel's concealed under his left sleeve in an arm-sheath on the back of his forearm. Daniel kept his own in the side of his boot. Michael used a folding pocket knife with a six-inch scimitar-style blade.

Daniel was pulled out of his thoughts as they reached Crusty Rusty's. He pushed the door open, wincing as the sound of an air drill pounded into his head. he looked around the auto shop before spotting Rusty, the shop's overweight, grease-stained owner. Rusty walked over, spitting a mouthful of dip spot into a mug jug on the way past.

"Whataya want?" Rusty asked, disgruntled as ever.

"We're here for a wax job," Michael said.

"Wow," Rusty said, rolling his eyes. "I'd have never guessed you, of all people, would be here for a fuckin' wax job, again."

"I like quality work," Michael shrugged.

"I don't know about quality," Gabriel said. "Cheap, maybe."

"I'm sure you don't need me to tell you where to go," Rusty said.

"Nope," Michael said. "We've got this. Thanks."

The three of them walked through the shop to one of the big six-foot Craftsman tool boxes on wheels, pulling the third drawer down open until it clicked. Then, Michael pushed the tool box toward the wall, the wall behind it swinging out of he way into a doorway. The three of them walked through, Michael closing the door behind them and followed the spiral stairway down about three stories before stopping as they reached a big soundproof metal door. Daniel opened it and they all walked into the room on the other side, Daniel pushing the door closed before looking around. Along the sides of the room were small rounded alcoves with round tables, wrap-around benches, and prostitutes fucking clients at all of them, sometimes in groups. Michael made a beeline for the bar, where the bartender took one look at him and set a bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter along with a key for one of the rentable private rooms that were another level down. Michael snatched up both instantly and was out of the room in seconds. Just as Daniel and Gabriel reached the bar, a man walked out of the stairway, grumbling angrily about being kicked out.

"The usual?" the bartender asked.

"Yeah," Daniel said, the bartender pouring him a glass of jack and coke, then looked to Gabriel.

"I'll take the usual too," Gabriel said.

The bartender smirked, shaking his head and dropping a key on the bar. "You going to actually sleep with the prostitute this time?"

"Probably not," Gabriel said. "See you in a bit."

He walked away with the key and Daniel sighed.

"Why do you bother coming?" the bartender asked. "You've never once done anything but drink here. Why bother coming?"

"You think I should let Michael come here alone?" Daniel asked. "This might be neutral ground, but when Michael loses his temper, he loses his temper."

"Fair enough," the bartender nodded.

Daniel turned his seat around, looking around the room slowly. He could easily identify members of at least five of the city's gangs, wether by their face or their gang's symbol tattooed onto them. Anywhere besides Crusty Rusty's, as well as a handful of other places, so many different gang members in one place would cause a fight in seconds. If not for the rules. Daniel's rules. He had worked hard to get the gangs to agree to the organization he had made. It was damn-near civil now. Not civil as in scheduled gang wars and designated shootout zones, but civil as in there was a specific task, or set of tasks, for each gang. For example, the gang that owned Crusty Rusty's was responsible for prostitution. They were also what was known as a business gang. Gangs that sold one of several specified services to the other gangs in exchange for immunity from other gangs attacking them, and also in exchange for not being allowed to attack other gangs. There was also a messenger gang, which alternated based on which gang was currently the weakest, and anyone who attacked a member of the messenger gang was then free game for anyone who wanted them.

The rules were pretty simple. Don't attack the messenger gang. Don't attack business gangs like Crusty Rusty's or the gang that ran a hospital Hotel Artemis style. Don't tell the police anything about the organization style and structure of the gangs. And the most important one in Daniel's eyes, one which Crusty Rusty's had always been completely innocent of but that other gangs had been wiped out for in the past, no sex slaves. Prostitution was fine if they were willing, which there were a surprising number of women that were happy to do, but if anyone forced a woman to be a prostitute, the gang responsible would be completely wiped out and their money, weapons, ammo, and anything else they had of value, generally meaning drugs, would be split evenly among the remaining gangs.

"You inspecting to make sure we're not breaking any rules?" the bartender asked.

"Yeah," Daniel said. "I'm suspicious that way."

"Fair enough," the bartender said.

After about another hour and a half, Gabriel and Michael both returned and Daniel stood.

"Ready to go?" Daniel asked as they turned in their room keys and all three payed.

"Yeah," Gabriel said.

"Almost," Michael said. "How much to buy her?"

"We're not a prostitution gang, Michael," Daniel said. "We're gang-war-for-hire. We can't own prostitutes."

"Not as a prostitute," Michael said. "I want her to be mine."

"That's slavery," Daniel said.

"I'll sell the contract to you for twenty grand," the bartender said.

"Got it," Michael said. "I'll be back later."

"Whatever you say," the bartender said.

Daniel and the others turned, walking toward the door only for Daniel to stop as one of the women in the room began to shout.

"Get your fucking hands off of me you fucking pig!" a blonde wearing a shite lingerie set said, pushing a member of a gang Daniel's had been hired to fight about a month ago away.

"Don't be like that," the man said as his two fellow gang members moved around behind her. "We rescued you from that fire. You owe us."

"You started that fire!" she snapped. "Get the fuck away from me! I'm not a fucking prostitute!"

"That's good, because we ain't payin ya," one of the other two said as they grabbed her arms.

"Dammit," Daniel sighed. "We were doing well too. We almost went a full month without getting into a fight at Crusty Rusty's." He turned to the men, drawing his knife. "Hey assholes, I think I heard her say to leave her alone."

"You mind your own fucking business!" the first man said, in the process of pulling her panties down while pinning her legs so she couldn't kick him.

"Actually, I think you should probably mind your surroundings," Daniel said, the three looking around for the first time, noticing every gang member in the room was on their feet around the alcove the three had the girl trapped in. "See, you may be too drunk, or maybe too stupid to remember, but sexual slavery is against the rules. So I'll say it one more time. Let her go."

The three of them released her and she quickly pulled her panties back up, scrambling over the table and running to Daniel, stepping around behind him.

"Thank you," she said. "I don't suppose you have some clothes I can borrow? They've been forcing me to wear this all week."

"We have some back at our place," Daniel said. "It's a bit of a walk, but no one will bother you there."

"Thanks," she said.

"Are we free to go now?" one of the three asked.

"Actually no," Daniel said. "You three broke one of the rules. So you're going to get punished."

"The hell we are!" one of the three shouted, grabbing a beer bottle and breaking it, lunging at Daniel, only for Michael to step forward, catching the man's hand and taking the bottle, driving it into the back of his head. The next lunged at Michael and Michael punched downward, hitting the man in the head and bouncing it off the ground before slamming his foot into his face, flipping him backward into the third.

"Sick 'em," Michael said, the other gang members all swarming forward instantly, beginning to beat the men.

Finally, Daniel called them all off and they backed away. Daniel walked forward and knelt in front of the one who had been the most active in trying to rape the blonde, grabbing him by his broken nose.

"Now, you're going to go back to your gang, you're going to explain to them why you're both in this condition, and you're going to tell them that they have two days to comply with the rules, or else they'll receive the alternative punishment alone with you," Daniel said. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes!" the man shouted as Daniel began to squeeze his nose.

"Good," Daniel said, releasing him. "Then you may both leave."

Both scrambled to their feet and hobbled out of the room. Daniel turned back to the blonde and she hugged him, Daniel wrapping an arm around her as well while holding his other hand out to Michael, who passed him his coat.

"Here," Daniel said. "It's probably too big, but it'll at least cover you."

"Thank you," she smiled, stepping back and pulling the coat on. "So, can we go?"

"Yeah," Daniel said, glancing at the bartender. "Sorry for the mess."

"They had it coming," the bartender said. "Take care of yourselves."

"Will do," Daniel said, walking out of the room and up the stairs with the blonde, Michael and Gabriel following.

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