Something’s come up—a spot of “family business” if you will—that might be right up your alley. Turns out there’s some discord between a father and son; the old man’s a faceless cog in the corporate machine and his kid decided to rebel by playing hooky with street gangs instead.
What used to be “a phase I thought he’d grow out of,” quoth our Mr. Johnson, turned into a real source of excitement for the chip-pretty-far-off-the-old-block, and things are coming to a real head tomorrow night. Usually concerning themselves with the usual protection racket gig and low-level weapon peddling, apparently the gang has managed to convince someone to entrust them with a huge shipment of novacoke. Not huge in the “I remember Pablo Escobar” sense, but more than these street rats have ever seen or even heard of.
The J thinks this is his opportunity to do some good around the neighborhood and also convince his son to come back home. He managed to get the details of the handoff—I didn’t ask how—and wants to make sure his dear scion isn’t there when the city’s finest descend on the scene like locusts. He figures with the kid’s friends locked up and having a bit of a scare himself, he’ll have no choice but to come back home.
Obviously if he ever finds out his old man was in charge of orchestrating the raid there’ll never be a happy relationship there, so it’s important to make sure a few things here: one, that the kid misses the meet. Two, that the kid gets rattled and be shown the dangerous road he’s starting to walk down. Three: don’t do anything permanent to the kid, which should go without saying, but I’m saying it anyway.
Separate the kid from the gang, run him around, and keep him away from the meet. Sound like something your crew wants to be a part of?
Header image of Shinjuku taken by Alex Knight
