The Don of the North
All characters from Balto are copyright of Universal and Amblimation
Inspired by The Godfather by Mario Puzo
Chapter 1
Nome, Alaska, Late October, 1927
Balto had been waiting for this day, ever since she had been a pup; Balto had been waiting for his daughter, Aleu, to have her wedding day. The ceremony had happened in the yard of Balto’s mate’s, Jenna, house. With the ceremony over, the wedding dinner had been more in the main street than in the small and crowded yard. Everyone there was either in a tuxedo or a dress.
What had it been? Two years since she were a simple minded pup, and she had grown into a fine young female, even if she had looked more wolf than he did, sometimes. Her husband was a wolf, half grey half white and he was also a member of a nearby wolf pack that would be migrating east. Across the ocean, his daughter might never return.
This saddened Balto, even on such a happy day as this, the thought of never seeing his daughter again was unbearable. She looked so pretty in her white wedding dress, a symbol of her honor, an honor that had been protected by Balto with his never ending gaze. No male would dare touch her or anyone else of his family in any disrespectful way, not while Balto was the head of the family.
Three more of his offspring were here at Aleu’s wedding as well, Dingo, the oldest male and oldest of Balto’s children, the animal that he was named and his personality were very much the same, even though he had the coloring and appearance (except for the most of his head which is red) of his mother. He was usually alone, though he was occasionally found in the company of another female, he was in fact, talking with a young female husky that Balto didn’t recognize, probably another conquest of his, or at least she soon would be.
The second of Balto’s children too be found is Saba, she is the second oldest female next to Aleu; she had the same appearance as her mother, though she was shorter and had an even higher determination of both her parents combined. She was having a conversation between her mother, Dixie, Sylvie, and her boyfriend, Jason. A grey husky which Balto had much contempt for. It had been Saba’s determination to be with this male that had nearly had Saba killed. Balto had fixed everything in the end, but she had stayed with him.
Kodiak or Kodi as many called him was the youngest of all of Balto’s children, he had always lived at the bottom of his family but his father had always been there for him. Balto had taught him to run; he was the fastest of all of Balto’s children, but still not a match for his father’s speed. He worshipped his father, to Balto’s own disappointment.
Kodi was talking with a bunch of his friends, a brown husky named Kirby, a large grey husky named Ralph, and a light grey female husky named Dusty. The two males were apart of a small gang that ran a few gambling games in town, Kirby was at the head of this operation, while Ralph was more his second in command. Dusty on the other hand, was the daughter of a prominent head of an underworld empire. He too was at this wedding, showing his respects to Don Balto.
Oh yes, Balto is the head of a major organization that excels in making money by any means on both sides of the law, they also specialize in problem solving, their own problems being more to the point. Balto was such a wolf/dog, a problem solver, if someone had a problem they would come to him and it would be settled in a reasonable way. He was the supplier of every vice in all of Alaska, Washington, most of Oregon, Montana, Idaho, Hawaii, Western and Northern Canada. He was extremely wealthy but he never showed it, nor like it.
Everyone at this wedding was either an associate of his, an ally, a rival, or someone indebted to him in someway. Every gift that had been given to the married couple had been a show of respect that each person had to him. This is why he had been so disappointed at Kodi’s views of his father. He didn’t want his children to turn out like him. This was something he had been trying to solve, ever since he had learned of Jenna’s pregnancy. He had promised Jenna that he’d leave it all behind. That had been her only condolence to his actions. He had been forced into this business and now he had no real reason to stay in it, no need to endanger his family.
Boris walked over to Balto, which drew Balto’s attention away from the bride and groom. Boris or his full name Boris Goosenov was by every meaning of the word ‘old’. His life had started in his motherland of Russia years earlier, soon turned communist and civil war ravaged the land. Boris had to flee to America after assassinating a public official and had several murder/disappearance investigations starting to lead back to him. He came to America and stayed here. Not longer than a few months later, near Nome itself, he had befriended the young male wolf/husky pup and later taught him the ‘tricks of the trade’, as it were. This was to lift the young guy out of his poverty stricken lifestyle; it would be years before this would happen.
“Balto! Is it but a grand day as your Aleu is now wed” he spoke in a Russian accent, so this wasn't exactly how it came out, even after a few years in America.
“Yes Boris it is. Hard to imagine Aleu not being a pup anymore, without her need for her father” said Balto, a sliver of sadness in his voice.
“Don’t fret Fido, her mate will keep her safe” was Boris’ comfort to Balto’s sadness. “I hope he can” was the reply Balto gave. “Miss Aurora would like to speak to you” whispered Boris
“Oh, where is she?” asked Balto, not whispering like his elder. Boris was slightly annoyed at this but otherwise knew Balto liked to do these things to him. “She said she was heading towards the cemetery” replied Boris, no longer speaking as if it were a secret.
“She would. Very well, I shall see her” replied Balto, just starting to walk away before Boris spoke again. “Mr. Orteze wishes to speak to you too” Balto continued walking but shouted back to Boris “I’ll meet him after dinner on the boat”.
*******
Balto’s departure didn’t go unnoticed, but there was still plenty of time before the married couple would leave so he had plenty of time. The cemetery was nearby, about a few minutes walk, so Balto wouldn’t be long.
As he entered the cemetery, he came across who he had been looking for, Aurora or otherwise known as Donna (Feminine version of Don) Aurora, she was the head of the Sheppard crime family, despite the name, they were not sheep dogs, nor did she have any close family members. She was a grey and slightly black Siberian Husky/Alaskan Malamute mix, blue eyes which with her dress, plus she’s about two year’s younger than Balto.
She was inside a fenced off part of the cemetery, into which Balto entered. She turned slightly to see him walk up beside her. And he looked down at the names of the five tombstones: Bernard, Shelly, Sally, Crow, and Spencer. They all had the same date at which they died, February 3rd, 1925. Too many of the locals that night was known as the “Night of Blood”. They were Aurora’s family, at least they had been. Many had died that night, many more were saved. Bernard and Sally were the oldest of the five and were the parents of both Aurora and the children with the remaining tombstones.
“Do you think they would have been proud of me?” Aurora asked Balto. He had been an “acquaintance” of her parents and had known them for most of his life. “Of course they would be proud. Why would you even ask such a question?” asked Balto, “Because they didn’t want me to be this way, they wanted Crow or Spencer in my position, not me” replied Aurora slightly angry and sad at the same time.
Balto put his arm around her and tried to comfort her in a hug. “They loved you Aurora, that’s all that matters” said Balto, she hugged him like she used to hug her father, her head in his chest, sobbing.
“You know I still can’t forgive you for what you did” she said muffled by his tux. “I know, but then it’s a small price to pay to save you from yourself” was Balto’s reply. This however only angered Aurora; she broke off the hug and backed off a few feet.
“I had all of them! All of them! I was going to get my vengeance, Avenge my family and what do you do? You take it all away from me! You kill two of them and send the other away scot free. And you say that you were helping me!” Aurora shouted, tears leaving her eyes. Balto, with a little grin on his face, turned around and started to walk out of the cemetery, he had dealt with her like this before and it always gave him a smile, knowing she hadn't changed after all these years, she had yet to learn what he had: vengeance solves nothing.
“I should have killed you then!” She said to his back with contempt. Balto stopped outside of the fenced in area, turned his head to her and said “Now what would your father say about that?” Balto asked her rhetorically, yet with some slight humor. With that he headed back to Jenna’s house, leaving a crying Aurora behind. “Thank god she’s not thinking like her father, otherwise I’d be dead” thought Balto.
*******
Balto returned just in time to perform a final dance with his daughter before her departure. Everyone gathered around as Balto and Aleu joined together for their final dance, the musicians started to play the song and the two began to dance. It was a waltz; Balto had done once before at his and Jenna’s marriage, it was not long before other pairs joined on to the dance area. There were human pairs, canine pairs, and even a few mixtures of both. But Balto did not notice, he only saw his beautiful daughter, he knew would soon leave him and his lifestyle behind for good. This was very good in the Don’s mind but he was unhappy that she had to leave him forever, he was her father, he had never dreamed of something like this. No matter his pleas, she decided to go.
He now thus had to remember this day and his Aleu for the rest of his life, thus the purpose of his watchfulness on his daughter was nothing more than a father who would miss his child. He eventually handed over Aleu to her husband for one last time and went inside to weep a few tears of happiness and sorrow.
*******
The bride and groom eventually left and headed to docks, where from there they said their goodbyes to Balto and his family. They then departed. The ship eventually disappeared into the waning sunlight of the horizon beyond.
Because of the change from summer to winter, it created many changes this far north, the hours of light per day were shortening, less than ten hours and that was shortening by the days, along with colder days, snowfall, and subsequently longer nights. But these things were still a few weeks away from being noticeable and most up this far north were either built to live in this climate or were just use to it.
Giovanni Orteze was not one of these people; he was from San Francisco, but with the heritage of a Sicilian. The harsh conditions of the north were foreign to him and just like all human bodies; he was not built for climates below the freezing point like the canine’s are. He was about fifty-one years old and Consigliere to Don Lorenzo so thus his confident; his Don controlled the rest of the western coast that wasn’t under Balto’s control. The man’s age was starting to show with a few streaks of white hair and grey with what was left of his thinning hair. He was slightly over weight but was hidden under his coat. He was trying his best to stay warm in the cold air.
He walked onto Balto’s derelict boat on the outskirts of Nome; he heard voices coming from the Bow of the ship and naturally started to walk towards them. After a few steps however his passage to the bow was blocked by two polar bears coming out of the wheel house, one was tall with a red nose and very muscular, the other was less than half the others size but Orteze didn’t take this as a sign of weakness, he had known many ‘associates’ that were short but tough and very ferocious. They both were wearing tuxedos, so Orteze assumed they had been at the wedding of Balto’s daughter. He of course had only arrived yesterday and had not been invited.
“I’m here to see Don Balto” he calmly said to the pair, no less than a foot away. The tall one made some noises that Orteze thought were strange, the shorter polar bear however spoke English, although it had a slight British accent “He says you’ll have to wait while Balto is convening with Uncle Boris”. This confused Orteze since these were polar bears talking about from what he could tell was a goose, being their uncle. Not to mention the first name basis that they had with the Don. “It’s alright Luk, Muk let him in” he heard Balto say, the polar bears moved aside for Orteze to enter. Orteze walked the rest of the way up the boat and onto the bow.
He saw Balto standing next to the railing of the boat with his back to him; Balto was seemingly staring out onto the horizon. He also saw Boris standing close beside him; he was obviously here to comfort Balto for his daughter’s departure. This brought upon a thought that maybe the Don had a weakness in his defenses. This however was quickly brushed aside as the two turned around and business was now at hand. The polite handshakes were made between the three men and thus the meeting began. Orteze went right to the point, something he thought he could get away with, at least with these northern, Sicilian want-to-bees. “I would prefer that only the two of us could talk alone in a more, private place” Orteze said, a little uneasy at the distance he was from the town and his position between four men. “Muk and Luk have been at almost every meeting that I’ve had, they have never done anything that I haven’t told them too or advised them too, and that isn’t going to change now” Balto said simply “Boris here is a mixture of you Sicilians call a Consigliere, Capo Bastone and Capo Regime” Balto took a quick glance around before continuing. “And what is wrong with this place? It’s quite safe from the Police and frankly I’ve lived on this boat most of my life and find it suits my needs. So relax and tell me your proposal” Balto already knew what was coming and he had already decided the matter, but he knew Orteze was less informed than him and wanted to show him who was in charge up here.
“Don Balto, my Don Lorenzo wishes to expand his enterprises as far north as he can, respecting those owned by you and your associates of course. Don Lorenzo is most particularly interested in the liquor coming in from Canada. It is of course much quicker for the liquor to get from Canada to the more northern enterprises than it is to get it from Mexico or even distilleries from the south.” Orteze was about to continue when Balto spoke, “Why not make distilleries up more North? It would be much closer and faster than your current system” was Balto’s observation. “That is true but unfortunately my Don’s enemies are working faster than he and he doesn’t have much time too waste.” Responded Orteze, slightly stretching the truth. “Then why come to me for running liquor from Canada? Why not a smuggler closer to the border?” asked Balto. “That was our first thought but the men we approached were either leaving the business or were under somebody else’s payroll, or were just uninterested.” This response was a lie and Balto pounced on it. “You’re lying Mr. Orteze; no booze runner of any kind turns down a Mafioso chief, as you call them, and live a happy life, if they live at all” Balto said this very coolly and calmly.
“I apologize for my disrespect, but Don Lorenzo wished for me to test you, to make sure you are as smart about this business as he hoped.” Orteze was sincere. “I can understand that but just because I’m not a Sicilian like yourself, doesn’t mean that I’m unintelligent enough o have to be insulted by you testing me. Testing people around here, like that is something that gets you nowhere but a swim in the ocean” Balto was giving a warning in a very threatening way, both parties knew it too be a false threat, but it was a good warning never to do it again. He had gotten the answer he wanted and anymore lies would be only a further insult to Balto’s intelligence.
“Now that you’ve given me half a reason why your here, now tell what I’m too do about it” Balto left it in Orteze’s hands as how to approach him with his proposal. “Well, since at the moment, Canadian beer is cheaper; we of course need to get sources from Canada. You have the connections in Canada that we want, to share of course, and if we can’t get enough ourselves, then we may need some trucks, some discreet but reliable people, and absolute immunity from the cops and hoods in your territory. And in return you get compensation for your cooperation, which would be about a million dollars and about fifty percent of the profits” Orteze had put everything out on the table and now it was Balto’s turn to give the final verdict, as it were.
After a short moment, to look seemingly as if Balto was considering the proposal, he answered “As tempting as your offer is, I’ll have too decline your offer. You come here thinking that I’ve got connections all over, that I’ve absolute control. But the route however is too long and dangerous for my people to travel and protect. And you think that I’ve got gangs in Canada waiting for the go ahead to smuggle booze in, well that is a lie. I get my liquor from the same people as everyone else, if you can’t get them, then you might as well leave them alone. And Mexican product, though slightly more expensive, is much closer to your territory, so you should look at them for your shipment problems. Although I’m flattered that you think so highly of me, I’m afraid your bar was a little to high for me to jump” Balto was naturally humble. The meeting concluded with both parties giving their apologies that the deal hadn’t worked out. With that Orteze left and headed for Nome.
“Have his telegraph monitored” Balto ordered Boris, who understood entirely. He wanted to make sure he hadn’t given anything away. He had not mentioned that his actual power didn’t go beyond Alaska, to make his guest think he had more power than he actually had, this of course being almost entirely untrue, he had other people who held the power of the ‘outside’ lands. The control he had out there meant he had control over a few people right here in Nome. So, though he technically held power over half of the western coast of America, he himself didn’t control it. He had also not mentioned his several other sources and means of getting alcohol to the people who continuously wanted it, no matter the cost.
Balto had however; found a hole in Otreze’s proposal, “A million dollar’s and fifty percent of the profits from a man who claimed to have enemies that moved faster than him. For that much money, he could have hired hundreds for protection. Why waste such money on someone like me?” Balto asked himself.
*******
It was cold after the sun went down; the streets were mostly bare apart from the odd traveler going anywhere. It was at this time that the gambling dens started to flourish, be they miners, dock workers, sailors, or any person looking for fun and a chance to make some extra bucks would be getting off from their shifts in search for an open gambling den. By this time, the hustle of such men to these dens had long since ended and were well into whatever the games had to offer. Every den, usually a house but sometimes a warehouse, was converted for gambling purposes during the waning hours of the day. Each usually had a guard or two outside and inside, the latter was for keeping the gamblers from getting out of line. Whilst the men outside were for protection from police raids, this was however currently unnecessary due to local payouts too the police officer(s) who were on duty in whichever precincts the dens were in at the time. They changed regularly from one place to another, changing which place was open on which night at random and only known between the gamblers of the previous games and the runners of the gambling dens. And even then, a raid usually never occurred, they were usually pointless due too the early warnings of informants also on the payroll of the local mobsters.
In front of one such gambling den in the middle of the residential part of the city, there was guard at the door, a human, was trying too keep warm with nothing but a cigarette. The den itself was under the control of Kirby and Ralph; they controlled a few such dens in the nearby blocks. These two huskies were themselves backed by Don Frost, a German Sheppard, one of the few this far north. There was the usual noise from the inside of the converted house; the usual noises found in a gambling environment, complaints were never filed about the noise because everyone knew what went on there, who controlled it, and that they would not take kindly too complaints.
Whilst in his never ending battle for warmth, he noticed from the lights that shone from the nearby buildings, a single figure walking down the street, towards him and the building under his current protection. He watched as the figure got closer, human’s inability to see very well in the dark is a problem for such a kind of job as guard duty, this also especially difficult if there is too much glare from nearby lights. He kept watching this traveling figure until he had gotten close enough for him to make out more describable details. He saw a light brown husky, a male, about 5ft 9’ tall, wearing a grey overcoat and grey hat to match, despite some canine’s ability to live in cold weather, they still wore clothing like their human counter parts, except for shoes, they don’t last long with their claws.
The guard had already taken this husky as a late arriver for the games, this was common of some gamblers to wait till the bulk of their fellow men had blown all if not most their cash on their gambles and had left. As the husky got within ten feet he spoke as if he were a regular attendant “Cold night tonight” he had quickly walked to within arms distance of the guard. The guard however had failed to take notice of either the husky’s path towards him or that his right hand was starting to draw back, ready to spring forward. “Yeah, but-” the guard was cut off by the right hand coming up and stabbing him in the stomach, the husky pulled the knife out whilst holding the guard by the shoulder with his left paw, to keep the man still and have more leverage to push the man onto the knife. The man dropped to his knees, his hands trying too keep the precious blood from flowing out of him, but this was in vain, the husky pulled the knife out and made several more such stabs, up higher into his chest area, eventually puncturing his heart, killing the man. This was all done surprisingly quickly and was quiet enough that the noise from inside drowned out any noise the guard had made.
The husky dropped the bloody knife next to the corpse, finger prints aren’t any concern to canines, and he then licked the blood from his paw as best as possible. Satisfied for now, he felt around the underarm/breast area of the guard, finding his gun, a .38 revolver; he removed it and put it in the waist of his pants, leaving his hands free to work. He pulled out a bottle from his left coat pocket with a rag coming out of the top; this bottle is filled with one of many different flammable liquids, possibly even a mixture, the rag itself has been dipped in kerosene and is formally called a Molotov cocktail. He switched the bottle between paws so that the bottle was in his right paw, his throwing paw. Digging through his pockets a found a match and struck it against the building, thus starting the flame, and he lit the rag on fire. Throwing the match away, he pulled the revolver back out with his free left hand and cocked the hammer into place, ready to fire. He knocked on the door with the butt of the gun; he moved his right arm out of the view of the door. The door opened inwards and the husky saw a human standing there, he also saw a group of men, of both species, sitting around a table in the far corner with a canine standing next to the wall nearby.
“Hey” the husky said the man in the door, quickly pulling his left paw up towards the man, at the last second the man noticed the gun but didn’t react fast enough, the gunshot rang out as a mixture of his blood and brain matter was spattered over the rug behind him. Taking quick action the husky stepped into the door way and, like a baseball pitcher, threw the Molotov cocktail towards the group in the corner. The bottle arched through the air till it hit the ground in between the men at the table and the canine nearby. The resulting flames shot off in all directions, especially towards the corner, catching on fire both the lone canine and the gamblers nearby the explosion of flame.
The husky made a run away as far from the gambling den as possible. If the gunshot wasn’t loud enough, the screams from the men on fire definitely were loud enough to awaken the dead. The fire department eventually put out the flames; the injured were taken to the hospital. The final death count was four, two from burns that they had sustained and the two dead just before the fire and with seven more men with burn injuries. Four of which were serious, one of which was that lone husky near that corner group, he was a canine who worked for Ralph and this incident would not end well for anyone. No one would have imagined what this event would eventually cause.
Chapter 2
Nome, Alaska, November 1928
Special Agent William Patterson and Agent Paul Smiths were arriving into Nome like everyone else, by boat. Both were in their mid-twenties, average height of six foot, Smiths had dirty blond hair while Patterson had light brown hair, there hair was mostly concealed by the black fedora’s they wore. Smiths was married while Patterson wasn’t; Patterson was relatively new to the United States Bureau of Investigation, whilst Smiths was an agent of the Department of Treasury.
They were arriving before the depths of winter completely set in up this far North or at least so they thought, what was still a few weeks away back in the States was: snow. Nome was lightly covered in the white stuff that was the trademark of the north, it was still lightly snowing and the forecast called for heavier snow in a few days. Adding to this was the fact that there was now only 6.5 hours of light each day and that number was diminishing by the days.
They departed from the boat in the chilly air of mid November; the citizens in sight were waiting for supplies from the boat, relatives coming home or were just walking by, like any ordinary day, oblivious too any new arrivals. Any new person arriving was as exciting as Herbert Hoover having been elected the 31st President of the United States of America only a few days earlier, in short, not very exciting. They were more interested in the local affairs of the city. Thus the new comers were ignored.
This was his first real assignment, so Patterson was a little annoyed with the reception they were getting, while Smiths took no notice, since he was helping his wife with the luggage and he on the other had experience in combating bootleggers in Buffalo, New York. He was used too being left out in the cold, it came with the job. They themselves were supposed to be just ordinary citizens until the formal announcement of their presence in Nome; this was to keep them both alive.
“I would have expected a warmer arrival from a cemetery” said an annoyed Patterson
“We’re just newcomers to them, they don’t know who we are or what we do, they just know we’re crazy enough to come this far north” was Smiths’s reply.
“You’re quite right but then you are quite wrong” was the reply of a nearby voice. Patterson looked around and found the owner of that voice. He saw a dog whose breed he couldn’t distinguish. He saw he was wearing a seemingly light grey coat, along with dark brown pants. He had a muzzle which was mostly grey, that grey flowed down half of the front of his neck and down the front of his body (concealed by his clothes), except for the top of his muzzle which is brown; much of the rest of his fur is brown except for his dark brown eyebrows and slightly lighter, triangular, ears. There was a small ring of grey around his eyes as well. The canines’ eyes were yellow and his irises were maroon. He looked a bit shabby and wild; he looked a bit like a stray. Patterson saw a future opportunity of an informant that he may need.
“They all know who you are and why you’re here, they just don’t want to be anywhere near you” said the canine “And what do you mean by that? Mister?” Smiths asked, his senses slightly aroused by this canine, the canine turned toward Smith and replied
“Balto’s my name and you both are agents Smiths and Patterson” Balto said coldly, as if “agent” was a meaningless word.
“How is it you know who we are?” Smiths questioned, quite shocked of his identity being said out loud. “There aren’t many secrets here Mr. Smiths, and the arrival of government agents is very hard to conceal in this place”
“What did you mean when you said they don’t want to be near us?” questioned Patterson, annoyed somewhat by this, stray looking, stranger’s seemingly higher intelligence than his own. “Quite simply Mr. Patterson, they don’t want to end up dead” replied Balto.
“So it’s that bad here” Smiths groaned, “Are you by any chance the Balto that saved this town a few years back?” asked Mrs. Smiths, “I’m sorry miss, I wish I could stay and talk but I have too take care of some business but the officer over there can help you get to the station” Balto gestured to his right before turning around and walking away. “It was nice to meet you Balto” said Patterson, hoping this act of kindness might help him later. “And it wont be the last” Balto replied back, this response gave Patterson a something to smile about, he had found a potential informant in just a minute after leaving the boat, or so he thought.
They spotted the police sergeant, about early thirties with a medium build, wearing a warm northern jacket with the badge showing on the left breast; he walked up to them and thus greeted them formally. “Good afternoon Mr. Patterson, Mr. and Mrs. Smiths, I’m Officer Jacob Bishop” shaking each person’s hand. “So how are you all enjoying our warm weather today?” asked Sergeant Bishop, a hint of a joke in his tone. “You call this warm?! It’s practically freezing up here” said Patterson, the cold finally getting to him. “You think this is cold you should try blizzard weather, it drops really low and the snow is so thick you can’t see your nose” was Bishop’s remark to Patterson’s.
They unloaded their luggage, along with the sergeants help of course, and brought it too their new home. It was more a two-story house, built to accommodate two families (A duplex). There was the usual exchange of pleasantries. Bishop had grown up locally, he lived about a block from the station, but however, when Bishop was asked what they were up against, the atmosphere changed. “Can I speak too you two for a moment?” asked Bishop, more serious now than his more easy going style thus far. Acknowledging this as a sign of importance, they found an empty room to talk alone in. “You realize who you were just talking too, right?” Bishop asked the two agents, “Yeah, some canine named Balto, looked like a stray to me, I think he could be a promising informant” said Patterson, Bishop could not help but laugh at this. Patterson frowned at this, “What’s so funny about that?” asked Smiths, Bishop regaining his control became serious again, “You think that that wolf half breed would be an informant?” asked Bishop, “Oh so he was part wolf” said Smiths “Yeah, I think he could, why? What’s wrong with him?” asked Patterson. “The only thing wrong with him is that he is the number one person in charge of every criminal gang from here to Salem, Oregon” said Bishop.
*******
The boiler room had a long rectangular table in it, surrounded by several chairs, many of which were occupied by canine and human alike. There is much arguing from several of these people. At the head of this table sat Balto, with Aurora to his left and Boris to his right. Most of the people in this room control a small portion of Balto’s vast criminal empire, the remainder are rivals or friends to Balto’s as of yet, undefiled control of the North and Central Pacific Coast. There were about fourteen people, eleven males and three females sitting here; most were arguing over territory claims, whilst the rest sat and remained quiet. Of all these people, only nine are heads of crime families. The rest are just gangs.
The three main people of the current argument are Kirby and Ralph against Trent, a grey husky that was slightly over middle age (he is about eight years old), he sat roughly in the middle of the table on Balto’s left, this position was right beside Thunder, an opponent of Balto’s. This arguing had been a result to what had happened over a year ago at Kirby and Ralph’s gambling den, with Trent being most likely the mastermind behind it, even if he wasn’t guilty to the law, he was guilty to Balto. Balto was just bidding his time, trying to find a solution to end this without creating an all-out war.
This was a very big possibility since Trent was backed by Thunder; a young purebred husky that was hungry for power and Balto was in his way of reaching that goal. Thunder was the second largest in every single bit of this organization, behind Balto of course. Thunder had thus been trying to find others like him, willing to wipe out the “old” system and bring in the new. His allies were fairly obvious to spot; they always took his side in every argument. His current support came from over half of the people at this table. But this does not mean he has any advantage over his immediate enemies. On the contrary, Balto and his few, but very powerful allies, along with their political connections, always overshadowed Thunder’s.
There had been some friction between sides. Before the incident there might be a skirmish or two a year, if that, but now skirmishes were at least once a month. It was starting to cause attention, thus the arrival of the government agents earlier today.
Most people here had earned their position here through Balto and they did not take it lightly. The rest had gotten here through expanding alongside Balto as “business” partners or had been recognized by him for some trait they possessed, as Kirby and Ralph had, being very good at gambling concealment. Thunder had obtained his position from his father after his death. Everyone here knew that Balto was unhappy at these meetings, they went no where and he was unhappy even more at the attention these skirmishes caused.
A courier came in and went to Balto and leaned toward Balto to try to give him the message but was drowned out. Having had enough, a very annoyed Balto stood up and everyone went silent, he was too powerful to ignore, even for Thunder. The courier repeated the act of whispering the message into Balto’s ear. This time however Balto’s face changed from annoyance too anger. His lips curled back to show his teeth, he gave a very noticeable growl. “Boris come with me” Balto ordered, still quite noticeably angry, as he walked out.
Boris followed the wolf dog outside the boiler room without question, Balto had never been this angry ever. “I need you to get everyone home, now!” Balto ordered anger still apparent in his voice.
“What’s happened?” Boris asked.
Balto was still for a moment before he turned towards Boris, when he spoke he was obviously trying not to explode his anger at Boris.
“Someone in town just shot up a restaurant … and Jenna was there”. With that he turned around and ran as fast as he could towards town. “I hope she’s alright” thought Balto, his anger melting into worry.
*******
Three men were sitting around a table near the window, waiting inside a restaurant on Main St. for their boss, Don Frost, to return from the meeting that was at the boiler room, which was supposed to end around nightfall, which was not far away. They were however being watched from across the street. Inside the window, on the second floor, a man sat, every once and a while looking down at the three oblivious men. There was a man leaning on the corner of the building a few houses down, smoking to keep the arctic cold away. He took a look up at the man in the window, as he had done every minute or so. The man in the window had been waiting for his gaze and gave him a nod.
With the signal given, the man threw his cigarette away and disappeared around the corner. The man in the window looked back down at the men in the restaurant and something caught his attention.
A rusty red and cream white, female, husky entered the restaurant and what really got the man’s heart racing was that this female he recognized as Jenna. Balto would have all of them killed if she were caught up in this. He saw a black, Model-T, drive from around the corner and parked, as close as possible, in front of the window where the men sat. The air was then filled with the sound of the repeated shots from a long burst from a submachine gun, along with the shattering of glass and screams from innocent bystanders. This only lasted for a few seconds and as suddenly as it had happened, it stopped. With a roar from the engine, the car sped of into the distance.
When the car had departed, the man in the window had a full view of the scene across the street. There were three dead men riddled with bullet holes near the shattered and bullet punctured window. He could see some people inside, either getting up off the floor or from behind whatever they could hide behind, among them was Jenna. Those two in the car had just signed their death warrant and so had their boss. But the man in the window had other plans that would insure his own survival.
Continued in Part 2