The room was dimly lit and deathly quiet. None wished to break the deafening silence, for fear that it would awaken the wrath of some unspoken force that surrounded them; watching them with cold awareness. The only light that could be seen was from the minimal glint of light coming from the sun, just beginning its peek beyond the horizon. The large glass windows that made up the far eastern side of the house allowed in the warm glow of the early morning. The long mahogany table that acted as the center point for the meeting was weighed down with the reality of the gathering. There were 9 men at the table. All sitting on either side of the table. Some were dressed professionally with a suit and tie and nice shoes. But others were dressed like they’d rolled out of bed and thrown something on at the last minute. But all had arrived…all NEEDED to be there. They all looked curiously at the head of the table where a woman was sitting; the wife of their boss. Oichi Taiga. The Japanese beauty sat there, wearing a white button down shirt under a blazer. A professional skirt was wrapped around her legs, and she had on heels on each foot. Her hair was brushed behind her ears and she was sitting back, a cigarette in her fingers, while a white mug of tea steamed in front of her. Her golden eyes skimmed the room. There was a gentle burning fire behind her glare that made most of the men look down or try to break the eye contact she was creating. It was as if she dared someone to speak...knowing she'd have the power to shut them down with a word. After what felt like a painful eternity, she spoke.

“I suppose, you should all be aware now, if you aren’t already…that your former employer is gone from this world.” The room didn’t say a word. They already knew…and further they knew why. “Some of you will be shocked by this…others are probably already aware. But know that despite his untimely death, this company shall flourish.”

“Is that right?” One of the men asked. “How?” Oichi gave a wry smile, as if expecting this interjection.

“That’s what we’re here to discuss.” Oichi responded. “Firstly, I’m aware that Hamen was a very relaxed leader…this might’ve worked well for him, but not for me. I can guarantee that, under my leadership, this sense of complacency and laziness will not be allowed. I will pull our little family up from the brink of self destruction.”

“Hmph.” The grunt was arid and cold, contempt dripping from his voice like a broken faucet, the one who gave it turned at last so he could be better heard. “You really expect us to buy that shit?” Oichi's eyes fell on the man.

“Show some respect, Sanders!” Marcus barked at him from the other side of the table. The man had a balding head and had a single tear drop tattoo under his right eye. He kept his arms crossed over his torn up and ratty shirt and shrugged his shoulders, as if none of what Oichi or Marcus said bothered him at all. He had on a tattered shirt and pants nearly falling below his buttocks.

“No, let him speak.” Oichi interjected. “I would never impede my lieutenants and advisors when they have a grievance…and that is why you speak, correct?” Sanders growled and stood up to speak, clearing his dry throat.

“Right so I just wanna go ahead and call out this bullshit. I think we all know how Hamen died, right?” The room didn’t respond. Even Marcus remained silent. “This bitch is a black widow. She axed Hamen and now she wants to take charge? We really gonna let that happen? I sure as shit ain’t.” The whole room hummed with agreement and concern. He turned back to Oichi confidently, feeling the support of the room, thinking he had her…but the woman merely smiled politely, causing his sneer to faulter.

“Finished?” She asked.

“Hardly.” Sanders spat boldly, trying to regain momentum. “Don’t act high and mighty cause your daddy is hot shit in Japan. Yo ain’t in yo country no more, bitch. You ain’t got nothing here. Ya really mean it when ya say you’ll ‘save this group?’ That wasn’t a joke?”

“I never joke.” She answered firmly, though her smile had never faded from her face. "Though I think I am developing a sense of humor...I've put up with you this long, after all." There were a few intakes of breath, but Sanders didn't rise to the bait.

“Well, maybe I’m a bit bias, but I can’t trust some Jap whore as the next head of the gang. Especially not a little bitch whos hands’re still red with our former bosses blood! How can we expect her to look out for our interests, when she’s only in it for hers!?” His argument was loud and unrefined, but it got its message across, as all the gentlemen in the room seemed to shift some in their seats at the revelation.

“And who would you suggest to lead?” Marcus demanded.

“I’d do it!” Sanders challenged. “I’ve been here…what? 5 years, right? Ya’ll know me. I was a personal friend o’ Hamen’s. We were bros back in the day. I can run this organization twice as good as this bi-”

Before he could finish the word, the sound of a creaking chair sent everyone into a moment of silence, the woman standing now, and her smile now cast over them like an accusing parent.

“Let me make a few things clear, first and foremost.” She announced. Not one person breathed. “My English, admittedly, isn’t as skilled as I would like, so maybe this is a difference in our use of the language but….I believe a ‘bitch’ is a female dog. Seeing as I am not a dog, you will refrain from ever calling me that again.” The hiss from her lips was so forceful and venomous that even Sanders, despite his bravado, sat back down. “Secondly, I really don’t give a damn about your self-interests. Your bank accounts; your family matters; your ambitions? I couldn’t care less if I wanted to.” The whole room stared at her, confounded. Even Marcus was taken aback. “All I care about is the success of this family of ours. Do as I say, when I say it, and there’s no reason that we can’t rise to the glory we deserve.” She sat back down and took a sip from her cup of tea, giving a long sigh of satisfaction. A few wanted to speak. To argue, but it was like she was still commanding silence without trying to.

“But there’s more.” She added. “Marcus brought me up to date with the state of this city…a neverending gang war, with the police more corrupt than some of the crime groups. People suffer while this pointless war continues. A successful crime family can’t function this way, which is why we’re going to end it. I intend to save this city through any means necessary, and this group…this dysfunctional little family of ours, will be the instrument of its salvation.”

“So what, you want to make us a charity now?” One other voice spoke up, this time from a man dressed very well and professionally. “Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor? I wasn’t aware Maid Marion was now Robin Hood and we her Merry Men.” The room chuckled at the man’s joke, or at least the few educated enough to understand it. Oichi just smiled back, and again the room fell silent.

“No, we’re not Robin Hood, and we’re not stealing from rich people.” She answered with a laugh. The sun was now getting a bit higher, the horizon lighting up with yellow brilliance, and Oichi’s face being basked in it, as if she were a goddess being kissed by the sun. “What we are, gentlemen, is a family of doctors. The syndicates and gangs of this city are a cancer…and we will cut them out…one by one. Until this city is healed.” None knew what to say. None could even argue her words…but they hung, suspended above them like the sword of Damocles.

“Who the hell are you?” The man hissed, fearfully, now showing an uncertainty and fear that had not been there before. “Who the fuck do you think you are? What gives you the right to toss aside all our livelihoods for the last few years and lead us into a crusade against the other gangs and mobs of this damned city?” Oichi stared him down, and for the first time, her smile left, leaving her mouth with a cold and terrifying determined sneer.

“I am Oichi Taiga…and I am in charge of this organization.” She answered fiercely. “Some of you enjoyed the lazy rule that Hamen held on this group. But a blissful existance is meaningless in the face of deserved triumph. STAND WITH ME!” She rose to her feet. “Those of you willing to drag this group back from the brink, stand by my side and show your devotion! Those of you who don't? You won't be missed."

There was a long pause as no move was made. Everyone just stared at this woman in disbelief, unsure how to respond. There was a hushed distrust among a few of them, particularly Sanders. Many of them seemed uncertain. But after almost a whole minute of silence, Marcus boldly stood up and smiled in her direction. Oichi nodded to him and then looked to the others.

“Who else?”

Slowly, one by one, more gentlemen began to stand up, all looking to Oichi with a mixture of both fear and admiration. After three minutes, seven of the nine men at the table were standing in favor of Oichi. Oichi nodded to all of them and then turned her gaze on the two hold outs. One was Sanders himself and the other was a blonde headed young man with a cigarette clasped between his teeth.

“Sanders and Clayton, correct?” She asked. “Is there something wrong?”

“Damn straight, there is.” Clayton snapped, putting out his cigarette. “Before I sign on for this new leadership, why don’t you tell us about exactly what it is you plan to do.” The other men all sat down, anxious to hear what Oichi had to say. She nodded and turned to Marcus.

“Marcus, come up here please.” As this order was followed, Oichi stood up and indicated Marcus’s professional attire.

“Firstly, I will no longer assign position or rank based on favors performed or who your family is. This is now a meritocracy. You will earn promotions and positions based on your contributions, your work ethic, and your ability to follow orders. So these next few weeks will be critical. I want to see EXACTLY what you nine are made of. If I find you lacking, I’ll happily replace you with someone who can do your job better.” This first announcement sent shivers down the spines of the nine listeners, all knowing that they could not longer afford to slack off.

“Secondly, I won’t specifically assign a dress code, but we will present ourselves respectfully. We will win over this city through respect and admiration as well as intimidation. It’s not enough that we’re feared…we must be idolized so the people will rally to our name.”

“The people rallying to our name!?” Clayton laughed. “We’re not for ‘the people.’ We’re for ourselves! We’re a criminal underworld, bi-” he caught himself on the word and coughed as if it had been unintentional.

“A criminal organization that is bottom feeding just to get by!” Marcus argued. “Miss Taiga is right! The people are our customers and benefactors. Without their support we’re nothing.”

“I say fuck you, and to hell with your policies.” Clayton barked. “Talk is cheap…and you might’ve bought off Marcus, but the rest of us will need a bit more than philosophy and nonsense!” Marcus made a move towards Clayton to tell him off, but Oichi just held up her hand to stop him, not taking her cold eyes off of Clayton, who was suddenly very busy gazing at the table.

The entire room was now looking back at Oichi to see how she’d react…but to their surprise, she was just smiling a very cunning and focused grin.

“Fair enough.” She replied. “I agree, talk is cheap…and I certainly wouldn’t want you to feel ‘uncomfortable’ with me as your boss. So what do you say to a challenge?” The room fell entirely silent. Even Marcus looked surprised by this development. “I’ve heard quite a lot about about this group called the Black Death Gang? We pay them tribute?”

“Every quarter, we pay them a cut of our profits, or they wipe us out.” One of the lieutenants explained.

“…Give me three days.” She replied.

“Three days for what?” Clayton asked.

“Do everything I say, exactly as I say it without question for three days, starting today…at the end of the third day, the Black Death gang will be a thing of the past.” The room buzzed with disbelief and scoffs.

“You’ll take down the Black Death!?” One cried.

“Are you mad?”

“It’s suicide!”

“I said, three days!” She barked, silencing the room with a simple statement. “Do everything I say for just three days and the Black Death will fall. If I fail, or I can’t complete this task in just three days, then I will gladly turn myself over to you for whatever you wish. Rape me. Kill me. Sell me off. Do what you like.”

“Hmph…” Clayton snorted.

“But when the Black Death leader falls…you will submit and acknowledge me as your boss…ALL of you. Is this a fair arrangement?” Most of the men smiled at this, some hopeful for her success, and others just thinking of what they’d do with her when she fails.

“Boss, I have to object,” Marcus spoke up, “I don’t think-”

“Marcus, don’t worry.” Oichi smiled warmly. “I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s a deal then, Taiga.” Clayton cried out, standing. “You have three days. So…what’s your first move, ‘boss?’” He spat the word boss like a bitter taste. Oichi’s smile widened and a chill swept through everyone in the house, even those not in the room.

“I’d like to meet our adversary…send a message to the leadership of the Black Death. Tonight we’ll throw them a dinner and negotiate terms of surrender.” This caused an uproar.

“Surrender!? You really think they’ll just SURRENDER to you!?”

“It would be their wisest course of action…but no, I do not expect them to. This is a formality.” Oichi replied. “I’m showing them respect.”

“You’re fucking mental.” Clayton barked.

“Should I repeat myself?” Oichi asked. “Send out the invitation. As for the rest of you, I highly recommend you return to your own areas of operation and let your crews know what changes are being made.” Everyone seemed puzzled by her decision, but after a few moments, they all stood to leave, beginning prep work. The only one who remained with her was Marcus.

“Miss Taiga…I hate to sound disrespectful but…they're right. This seems crazy. If you poison their food, it will only spark the Black Death’s anger.”

“No poison, Marcus. I was being honest. This dinner is a show of respect. If I want the gangs and people of this city to respect me, I must show that I am capable of respectful and civilized behavior.” Oichi replied. “In reality, all I want to do with this dinner is size up who I’m up against. Once I know that, I’ll begin executing my plan.”

“What plan, exactly?” Marcus asked.

“It’s like I said earlier, my friend….I will save this city, Marcus. I will rule the underworld of New Mercia and end this pointless gang war. But first impressions are important, yes? These next three days will be critical. Now go…I’ll be giving you orders soon.” Marcus nodded his reply and walked to the door. He paused a moment and glanced back to Oichi, offering a smile.

“I don’t know why but…I believe you might be able to pull this off….you might just succeed.”

“Three days, Marcus. In three days, this whole city will know our organization. Then, the war for New Mercia will begin.”