A Bit Of Rough

In the days following Tommy's one-on-one victory over The Tank, morale among his ranks had soared. Word had spread like wildfire, embellishing the tale until Tommy had become a near-mythical figure who'd single-handedly taken down a giant. While the storytelling was a touch over the top, it served its purpose, bolstering the spirits of his crew and casting a long shadow of doubt among Blackwater's ranks.

At their makeshift headquarters, a repurposed pub that had seen better days, Tommy held a strategy meeting with his key lieutenants. The pub's previous owner had been a fan of quirky Australian decor, and the walls were still adorned with old surfboards and pictures of kangaroos boxing humans—a bizarre yet amusing backdrop for such grave discussions.

Richie, leaning against a bar adorned with a faded sign that read 'Shark Bait Brew', was recounting their latest intel on Blackwater's movements. "So, they've pulled back from the docks and are fortifying their hold on the industrial sector. Looks like The Tank was their muscle there, and without him, they're a bit wobbly."

Tommy, sipping a strong, dark coffee instead of the pub's stale beer, nodded thoughtfully. "Right. We hit them there next. Keep the pressure on while they're scrambling."

Just then, Mikey, one of Tommy's younger recruits, burst through the door, nearly tripping over a decorative didgeridoo. "Boss, you've gotta see this," he panted, waving a tablet in the air. "It's all over the news."

They crowded around Mikey as he fumbled with the tablet, finally bringing up a news report. The screen showed a chaotic scene outside a Blackwater office, with protestors waving signs and chanting. The reporter was saying, "…unprecedented public backlash against Blackwater Security, whose heavy-handed tactics have not gone unnoticed by the public of Sydney…"

Richie chuckled, shaking his head. "Looks like Blackwater's PR isn't as bulletproof as their goons."

Tommy grinned, a rare lightness in his eyes. "Nothing like a bit of public humiliation to mess with a company's stock prices, eh?"

The laughter that followed was cut short by another report flashing on the screen—this one showing city officials being questioned by reporters about Blackwater's operations. The city was turning on their new protectors, and the tide of public opinion was swiftly shifting.

Encouraged by these developments, Tommy clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, mates, while the city's giving Blackwater a serve, we're gonna prepare our next move. We hit them where it counts—take out their new command center before it's fully operational."

As the group dispersed to gather their gear and rally the troops, Tommy pulled Richie aside. "Keep an eye out for any more slip-ups from Blackwater. Anything we can use to our advantage. And Richie," Tommy paused, a sly smirk playing on his lips, "let's not be tripping over any didgeridoos, eh? We're supposed to be professionals."

Richie laughed, slapping Tommy on the back. "You got it, boss. But hey, if I do, I'll just blame it on an emu or something."

The planning session resumed with a lighter air, the grim backdrop of their struggle momentarily lifted by their camaraderie and shared resolve. Tommy knew the road ahead would be fraught with more danger than any of them could anticipate, but for now, they had a plan, and more importantly, they had hope—two things that were as good as gold in the dark times that had fallen over Sydney.