Smoke on the Harbour

The docks smelled of saltwater and rusted metal. Massive cargo ships loomed like silent giants, and the muffled hum of cranes and forklifts echoed in the distance. It was a place where deals were made in the shadows, far from the prying eyes of the law.

Tommy and Richie arrived with a small crew of Bannisters men. Each of them was armed to the teeth, their faces steeled for the night's work. A late-model van idled near a stack of shipping containers, its windows tinted, concealing the cargo within.

The Minh brothers were waiting—five of them in total—dressed in sleek leather jackets, their posture casual but alert. Their leader, Huy Minh, stood at the front. His eyes were cold, calculating, and he wore a slight smirk as if daring Tommy to make the first move.

The two groups stared each other down, the air between them thick with tension. For a moment, nothing happened. Then Huy spoke, his voice smooth but laced with an undercurrent of danger.

"Tommy Bannister," he said with a faint accent, "you're stepping into our territory. This isn't your game anymore."

Tommy stepped forward, his hand resting on the gun tucked into his belt. "Sydney's a big place," he said coolly. "Plenty of room for everyone. But you don't take what's ours without paying the price."

Huy's smirk deepened. "You Bannisters, always thinking you can bully your way through anything. But times have changed."

As if on cue, the back of the van slid open, revealing crates stacked high with bricks of heroin. It was more than Tommy expected—enough to flood the streets for months and line the Minh brothers' pockets with unimaginable wealth. The balance of power in the city could shift overnight.

Tommy knew this wasn't just about drugs. It was about respect. Control. The Bannisters couldn't let the Minh brothers come out on top.

Without warning, Richie fired his revolver into the air—a signal for the fight to begin. Both sides erupted in a flurry of gunfire, the sharp crack of bullets echoing across the docks. Men ducked behind crates and shipping containers, firing blindly as they moved for cover.

Tommy found himself locked in a deadly game of cat and mouse with Huy Minh. The two exchanged shots from behind crates, their eyes flickering in the shadows like predators stalking their prey. Tommy could hear his men shouting, guns barking in every direction, but his focus was on Huy.

Finally, Tommy saw an opening. Huy had moved too far out from cover, his side exposed. Tommy aimed and squeezed the trigger.

But just as he fired, Huy twisted, the bullet grazing his shoulder. He grunted in pain but kept moving, darting behind a container as if the injury hadn't slowed him down at all.

Tommy cursed under his breath. The Minh brothers were no ordinary street gang. These were hardened soldiers, men who had seen real war back in Vietnam. The Bannisters were tough, but they were used to back-alley brawls, not this kind of organized assault.

The firefight raged on, and Tommy could see his men starting to falter. Richie was pinned behind a stack of tires, bleeding from a wound in his leg. Another of their crew, Mick, lay unmoving on the ground, his chest riddled with bullets.

Tommy knew they couldn't win this way. He had to end it fast, or they'd all be dead.

With a quick glance at Richie, Tommy made a decision. "Cover me!" he shouted, breaking from his cover and charging toward the van. Richie fired wildly, forcing the Minh brothers to duck for cover. Tommy sprinted toward the open van, the crates of heroin just a few feet away.

Huy saw him coming and fired a shot that skimmed Tommy's shoulder, but Tommy didn't stop. With a roar, he slammed into the van, knocking one of the crates onto the ground. Bricks of heroin spilled out, and in the same motion, Tommy pulled a lighter from his pocket.

Huy's eyes widened. "You wouldn't dare—"

But Tommy was already flicking the lighter open, setting the flame to the edge of a nearby rag soaked in petrol. The fire caught instantly, spreading to the heroin-laden crates. Flames licked at the edges, and within seconds, the entire van was ablaze.

Tommy stumbled back, breathing heavily as he watched the fire consume the drugs. He could see the rage in Huy's eyes as the heroin went up in smoke, his fortune disappearing into the night air.

For a moment, the gunfire stopped, both sides stunned by Tommy's bold move. Then, with a snarl of frustration, Huy called his men to retreat. The Minh brothers disappeared into the shadows as quickly as they had come, leaving the Bannisters standing in the glow of the burning van.

Tommy slumped against a stack of crates, his shoulder bleeding and his muscles aching. Richie limped over, his face pale but alive. "You alright, mate?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

Tommy gave a weak grin. "Still breathing."

Richie looked at the van, now a pile of smoldering wreckage. "You know this isn't over, right? The Minh brothers—they're gonna come after us with everything they've got."

Tommy nodded, his expression grim. "Let them come. We'll be ready."