CHAPTER 43: REVISITING ST. IGNATIUS

"What in the fresh Hell happened to this place?" asked Harry, looking at the drab concrete buildings that now stood in place of the old Gothic-style buildings that had once housed St. Ignatius Academy.

The surrounding district was a far cry from the bustling suburb that it had once been.

The storefronts were smashed and ruined, the houses were boarded up, and the streets were lined with stinking trash and debris.

Graffiti covered the walls, and a few homeless people were scavenging through the overflowing dumpsters.

Natasha and Olga, who had come along for the ride, immediately went on the alert, and drew their sidearms, ready for anything.

"It’s been getting worse ever since the gangs took over," sighed Father Abel, as they walked through the main school building.

"The outside looks like a ghost town," said Natasha, her voice grim.

"That’s because it is. The gangs have driven out most of the residents and businesses. The school is still functioning, but we’re barely hanging on," said Catherine.

"Definitely not the school I remember," said Aaron, inspecting a broken security camera.

A gunshot rang out, and the plaster splintered as a bullet struck the wall nearby.

"Everyone down!" shouted Natasha, as she and Olga returned fire, their shots ringing out in the empty hallways.

Harry, Catherine and Father Abel ducked into a nearby classroom, while Aaron crouched down, and drew a handgun from his ankle holster.

Aaron fired a shot just as a door cracked open, and a scream of pain rang out.

The door opened wider, and a gang member stumbled out, clutching his bleeding hand. He tried to charge Natasha who was closest, only to be met with a swift punch to the face that sent him sprawling.

The shooting finally stopped, and the hallway was silent once more.

The bodies of five gang members lay in pools of blood, while the one Aaron had shot, was sprawled on the floor, clutching his bleeding hand.

"Affiliation?" asked Natasha, as she kicked the living gang member in the ribs, eliciting a pained groan.

"Your Mama’s," he spat, trying to crawl away, but Olga seized him by the hood of his hoodie and sliced open his sleeve with her combat knife, revealing a tattoo of a skull with a snake wrapped around it.

"Skull vipers. They’re a local gang that usually deals in meth, and have a turf war with another gang called the Black Cobras," she said, as she zip-tied the gang member’s hands behind his back.

"What the hell are they doing here? This is a school, not a drug den!" shouted Catherine, her voice rising in anger.

"Probably thought that they could use the closed school’s chemistry labs to cook meth," said Natasha.

"At this point, we might as well close the school for good," sighed Father Abel.

"I’ve got a better idea, but first, let’s get out of here. The police should be arriving soon," said Aaron, as he led the way out of the school building, with Natasha and Olga covering their backs.

----

"All right, now that we’re back and safe here. Let’s talk about what we can do to fix this mess," said Aaron, as they sat down in the Temporary Office.

"Aaron, we’re a game development company, not the police. How are we supposed to fix this?" asked Harry.

"One word Harry. Gentrification," said Aaron smirking.

Harry held his head in his hands. "You’re going to turn that dump back into a high-end suburb, aren’t you?" he asked, his voice resigned.

"No. I’m going to turn it into a high-end school, Harry. A school that will never fall to a bunch of gangsters high on meth," said Aaron.

----

"Let me fill you in on a little secret Aaron. Those gangsters have a certain state senator backing them," said Michael DuPont, as he looked over Aaron’s proposal to rebuild St. Ignatius Academy.

"And why would a respectable state senator back gangs peddling meth?" asked Aaron.

"Money and politics dear boy. Politicians don’t actually want problems solved, if that happens, how would they campaign?" chuckled Michael.

"You seem to be doing fine, despite me solving problems," said Aaron with a raised eyebrow.

"That’s what you think? Every ’problem’ you solve creates a bunch of new ones for me to ride on. But I digress, the bottom line is you can’t expect the police to roll up in SWAT gear and clear out the neighborhood, even if you buy it up," said Michael.

"Hmm, building my own private army is going to stretch the development timeline," said Aaron, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

"May I suggest you let me bring in the DEA and National Guard instead? I like you, kid. But going full medieval warlord is going to get us both killed," said Michael.

"I suppose that would work as well," chuckled Aaron.

"By the way, I’m an alumnus of St. Ignatius Academy as well. So pull out all the stops, and make it a school that we can all be proud of," said Michael, shaking Aaron’s hand.

----

Gunshots rent the air as the National Guard and DEA stormed the school district, hunting down the gang members with ruthless efficiency.

Members of the police forces stood red-faced, as they watched DEA agents and National Guardsmen in full tactical gear escort dozens of gang members out of the school district, zip-tied and hooded.

Large stacks of white packets were loaded into armored trucks, while the gang members were herded into police vans.

"All right, area is cleared Mr. Zakhrov, your bulldozers can move in now," said a DEA agent, as he approached Aaron, who was standing next to Natasha and Olga.

"Thank you, Agent. I appreciate your help in this matter," said Aaron, shaking the agent’s hand.

"Don’t mention it. Hope you can do the community here some good," said the agent, as he walked away to supervise the cleanup operation.

"All right, Harry, you can start the demolitions now," said Aaron into a radio.

"On it, boss," replied Harry over the radio.

A fleet of bulldozers and excavators rolled into the school district, their engines roaring as they began to demolish the old buildings.

A large black SUV with lights and sirens skidded to a halt, and a woman wearing a blue pantsuit with a pearl necklace and sneakers leapt out, flanked by two burly security guards.

Television broadcast vans stopped behind her SUV, and cameramen and reporters circled around like vultures.

"What the hell is going on here?!" shouted Monica Goldberg, storming up to Aaron, her voice shrill with anger.

"Nice to finally meet you in person, Senator Goldberg. What’s the problem?" asked Aaron, unfazed by her outburst, or the flashes of cameras.

"What’s the problem? What’s the problem?! Your bulldozers are tearing through a vulnerable community, and you expect me to just stand by and watch?!" shouted Monica, her face flushed with anger.

"Vulnerable community? You mean this dump that was just cleared of drugs and criminals? I’ve got permits to redevelop this area," said Aaron, showing her the paperwork.

Monica snatched the paperwork, glanced through it, and then held it up for the cameras.

"This filthy colonizer is turning a minority neighborhood into a private high-school for the rich! This is gentrification at its worst!" she screamed.

"Senator Goldberg, can you block it?" asked one of the reporters, shoving a microphone in her face.

"Of course I can! Mr. Zakhrov! Consider yourself served!" shouted Monica, shoving a cease-and-desist order into Aaron’s hands.

"Harry, pull out for now," said Aaron into his radio.

"Goldberg eh? No problem, boss. We’re pulling out," replied Harry over the radio.

"Let’s go," said Aaron, but reporters swarmed around him, shoving microphones and cameras in his face.

"Mr. Zakhrov, can you confirm that you are planning to build a private high school in a minority neighborhood?" shouted one of the reporters.

"Mr. Zakhrov, what do you have to say to the allegations of an oppressive dress code and mandatory makeup?" shouted another reporter.

"Natasha, warning shots," ordered Aaron, swatting away a microphone that was shoved in his face.

Natasha and Olga stepped close around him, and fired warning shots into the air, sending the reporters scattering.

The three of them quickly got into Natasha’s car, and they merged into the convoy of bulldozers and excavators that were leaving the school district.