Me and my Uncle

     'Wait here.' Boris told his driver as he got out of his Cadillac. There was a light mist in the air as he got

out in front of the 50's truck stop diner that Luis had insisted they have their meeting at. There were old 

gas pumps in the front that said, 'Fillin' station,' and large glass windows that looked out to the outside.

        He pulled out a smoke from his pack of cigarettes and lit it with a match, standing slightly to the side

of the main entrance. 

        There were two things he liked about having a driver, one, he didn't have to drive, and 2 he could 

drink as much as he wanted and not worry about driving. He'd learned that lesson the hard way in

America, then another when he'd tried to give the cop who had pulled him over a 50 to make it all go

away. 

            They don't do that here, he thought to himself cynically, here the bribes done by the millions and

billions from lobbying groups to big Politicians, however a cop takes a few bucks on the side, he's a 

criminal. 

        He finished his smoke and put it out on the ground, then reached into his jacket pocket to take 

a long pull from the flask of vodka he'd brought with him from New York. It hurt his pride to even be

meeting with someone like this, someone who had something over him, who held the upper hand. When,

he first figured out who was probably behind his clubs getting shut down, Boris's first instinct had been to

get together a couple of vans worth of guys with AK-47s, drive out to that shitty little town and kill every

last one of those Italians, their families, and anyone who stood in their way. 

        However, he'd always been pragmatic and the more he'd thought about it the less he'd liked it. It just

wasn't worth it, an idea born from too many vodkas.

        The diner was half full as he entered, the smell of pancakes greeting him. He saw Luis in a booth in

the corner, a smug, satisfied look on his face.

        Then, Boris thought, as he greeted Luis and sat down across from him in the booth, there is that other

matter to discuss with him.

            'Do you want to order anything before we begin? The food is pretty good in my opinion.' Luis

remarked. He was wearing a blue polo shirt, khakis, looking like some middle aged insurance salesman as

far as Boris was concerned.

        'No I think I'm good.' Boris replied. He ordered a black coffee when the server came by. 'However,

before we start, there is another matter I need to discuss with you. A little bit of a problem actually.'

        Luis expression was unchanged by he raised an eyebrow. 'Alright, if you tell me what is is maybe we

can sort that out to.'

              'Anatoly, one of my top lieutenants, he's the one who I have running things for me out here, he's

missing. It's been almost 3 days. I've tried calling his phone but it goes straight to voicemail. I've talked to

his crew, my son, my daughter, no one has heard a word from him or his bodyguard Vasily, in that time.'

Boris explained, taking a sip of his coffee.

    'Ok,  but what does this have to do with me?' Luis asked.

         'Well,' Boris replied. 'I spoke to my daughter Marina and he told me Anatoly and his bodyguard 

Vasily were going over to meet up with an associate of yours- Eugene. She tried to call him later in the

day, nothing, and she hasn't seen either him or the bodyguard since they met with your associate. To me

it all seems a little, how do you say, 'Fishy.'

        The server came over and Luis ordered some breakfast, Boris stuck with his black coffee. 'Perhaps,

Luis said after she had left. 'But you know thousands of people disappear every year. Just poof, no one

knows where they go.'

            This fucking guy, Boris thought to himself. 'Let me explain something to you. Anatoly, he's one of

my top Lieutenants yes, but he is also like a son to me. I made a promise to my brother when he went over

to Afghanistan that if anything happened to him I'd do right by his son, my nephew. He's as much a son to

me as my own children. If I found out something bad happened to him, or that one of your guys was 

responsible for it, that kind of thing might cloud my judgement. Make me do something rash out here.'

            Luis was silent for a moment, trying to contain the anger he could feel rising up inside him. He'd

told Eugene to stay out of this one, if one of the Beard's reached out to him. Told him he'd take care of it.

However, he knew Eugene wouldn't do something like that on his own. Someone was pulling the strings.

        He took a sip of his coffee. 'Well, the more rash things you do out here, the more damage I do to your

interests out there. Besides we haven't actually established that Eugene has anything to do with this yet.'

        The server brought Luis's food and refilled Boris's coffee. 

        'I know,' Boris said. 'That's why I'd like to send a couple of my guys down to talk to this Eugene. Try

to get a sense of what actually happened.'

        Luis shook his head, 'That's not going to happen.' He replied. 'I can talk to him, I definitely want to 

talk him after this, but your'e just going to have to take my word for it. In the meantime can you tell your

guys to back off from the Berardi's families houses?'

        Boris nodded, this one he had already expected. Anyway he felt they had made their point. 'Yes, of

course. But this matter of my nephew, it needs to be cleared up. Or else...I don't know.'

        'Absolutely, I'll look into it today.'

        Detective Dana White dipped her scone into the last bit of coffee at the bottom of her cup and 

watched the world go by outside. The pharmacy robberies, so far, were less a criminal conspiracy and 

more a simple case of junkies stealing to feed their habit, or on behalf of another dealer. From the 

servalliance footage, fingerprints they had picked up at the scene they were pretty sure they had their

suspects.

        Aside from watching the world outside go by, Dana liked this coffee shop because it was directly 

across from the building that housed Mojo's recording studio, Cloud City, on the top floor. Dana laughed

to herself, Cloud City, she liked the name. She liked to go out sometimes, to Chapman's bar, out of her

work attire, to see live music, have a few beers. Where no one knew she was a cop.

        She had seen several of the bands that had recorded at Cloud City perform at Chapman's and the 

Satellite over the years, even sneaked a couple puffs of a joint. She never bought any, but she'd like to

have a couple hits if it got passed to her. 

        The truth was, she felt bad coming down so hard on Mojo, she respected what he did. But she also

knew he wasn't being entirely truthful with her. That he knew what his 'Source', had done to Kyle Popa,

her informant, as well as Roady and the others as well. 

        She looked across the street, yep, there it was. Mojo's green Subaru, parked in the exact same spot it

had been when she'd had breakfast here this time yesterday. And if I had to put money on it, I'd say that 

GPS tracker Roady put on it to find the locations of Mojo's source, still on there. 

            She finished up her coffee. She knew what she had to do. 

    She felt the cool breeze and she walked outside the cafe, the parking lot where Mojo's car was was next

to the building that Cloud City recording studio was at the top of. She had come here for lunch the past

two days and had noticed Mojo's Subaru parked there, then when she passed the lot on the way home in

the evening it was still there. Then when she went to the place for coffee the next morning at 6AM for the

next two days it was still there. 

        The street was empty as she strode into the parking lot, walking over to Mojo's green Subaru, and 

got down on her knees and felt underneath, feeling satisfaction as she finally found it and it came off.

        Of course this moron didn't remember to take it off, she thought as she walked back to the street.

            'Don't worry Eugene I'm not mad at you. I'm glad you were honest with me. That is always an 

intelligent tact to take. Bad things happen to people who are not honest with me.' Luis explained. He'd 

called Eugene earlier telling him he needed to have a word with him. face to face. This wasn't the kind

of conversation you had over the phone, indeed when Luis arrived at his apartment Eugene already knew

what this was about.

        Over some coffee and scrambled eggs and toast that he'd made when Luis had told him he was 

coming, Eugene explained what had happened with him, Jamal, and the two Russians. How Steve Berardi

had made it sound like his boss had signed off on it, so Eugene had naturally assumed Luis had been ok

with it considering he'd heard the Berardi's were now under their umbrella. 

            'Now, like I said before I didn't want to get involved, but I was also worried about these Russian

assholes moving into our town. I mean, I'm old man, I can remember when these motherfuckers had an

arsenal of motherfucking nukes pointed at our damn heads, so I don't trust the motherfuckers.'

        Luis nodded, he'd always been a keen student of history. 'Ok, so lets say for the sake of argument

that this did go down the way Boris thinks it did, is there any risk of these dead Russians turning up any

time soon?' he asked.

        Eugene shocked his head, 'Nah, man. Jamal he's got a guy that kind of specializes in that kind of 

stuff, a cleaner. Put us out a few grand, but nah, they ain't gonna find those assholes anytime soon.'

        Luis nodded, 'This is all very good Eugene.' He took a sip of his coffee, stood up. 'You and Jamal

move a lot of product for me, make a lot of money for me. I'm not gonna let something like this interfere

with that. From what I've heard these Russians are on the ropes anyway, their revenue from the club is 

down something like 75 percent after they took over, pained over all the old murals and changed the

whole fucking theme of the place.'

        He grinned, 'And now, he doesn't even have this nephew anymore who was going to run the whole 

thing out here for him. Plus, I heard he's having some legal troubles with his clubs in New York anyway,

unpaid taxes.'

        'Look, the way I'm seeing things these assholes won't be a problem for us too much longer. We just

got to sit tight, wait it out. In the meantime, just be careful because this Russian, Boris, he wanted to send

some guys over to talk to you and Jamal, ask about his nephew and the other one that was with him. If that

happens, just talk to them like they were the cops, they already know he was here so it's not use lying

about that part.'

        'Best thing, I'd say, is don't think of it as a lie think of it as the truth. After all, no one, besides you and

Jamal knows what really happened to them right? So, I'd just tell them his nephew stopped by you

conducted your business and sent him on his way. But let me know if they do come by because I 

specifically told Boris not to do that.'

        Luis put his coffee cup on the kitchen counter. 'Alright, I think I can do that.' Eugene said.

               Miami Florida

            She grabbed the cash on the nightstand, counting it, even though she knew he was good for it, 'Do

you want me to come see you tomorrow papi?' She asked Eddie who was sitting on the bed. 'I'll call you

if I need you.' He replied neutrally. 

        'Ok, bye baby.' She said as she slipped out. His brain had been frantic the past couple days. thinking

about his house, the kilos of coke he had vacuumed sealed in his safe, the cash, loose ends. That goddamn

detective poking around, asking fucking questions about every little fucking thing. 

        It's no good, he thought to himself. No good. He'd been having a decent time down here, staying in

motels, drinking more than he usually did, seeing his favorite whore from time to time. He liked whores.

They didn't ask too many questions, they didn't want to get to know you or any of that shit. 

        He got up from the bed put on his shirt, he hadn't left any fingerprints at the crime scene, they 

certainly wouldn't find any evidence of the two morons who came up to his house to try and rob him. He'd

covered all his bases hadn't he?

       I feel likes the more I try to cover my tracks the messier it gets, he thought to himself as he put on his

pants. A walk would do him good, get his mind thinking, so he could remember that one little detail that

he knew he was overlooking. He knew it was important, but it still escaped him. 

       He put on his socks and shoes, wallet, he had a piece, a 22 pistol but he left it in his dresser.  If he got

into a situation with a mugger he knew enough close quarters combat to defend himself. As he opened the

door outside he felt the soft breeze from the ocean, and it came to him. Roady, how he'd been able to get

the location of Eddie's house in the first place. The GPS he'd placed on Mojo's car. And how much would

you bet that idiot never took it off?

        A lot, Eddie thought as he walked out into the parking lot of the motel. The beach was just across

the road. The moon was full and high in the sky. He'd enjoyed his time down here well enough, drinking

more than he would normally, hooking up with prostitutes, but he missed his house. He didn't like being

around all these people, he missed the silence of the forest. 

        He walked out of the motel parking lot across the street, to the walking path the ran along the beach. 

That detective, she's definitely the type that would check to see if it was still on there. She had her wild 

theory about him, and she was mostly right. 

        Eddie watched the ocean, the full moon reflecting off the waves. I have to go back. Take care of all

the things he should have taken care of before leaving. Mojo, the Detective. She wasn't going to stop 

digging, he could just feel it. He'd take care of her, get rid of the body, and head back to his house in the

woods where he'd really lie low for a while. Keep to himself, until he could find someone to to buy the 

rest of the drugs he had in bulk. He had enough money already.

        He saw the lights of the gas station down the block, that just left Mojo. That he could probably get

someone else to take care of, small fish. He felt a small tinge of remorse at that, he liked Mojo, but he had

not been discreet, he'd run his mouth too much. It was just business, nothing personal.

       'Good stuff man,' Mojo said as he passed the joint to Elbourne. El took it from him carefully, 'Ya that's

some organic Northern Lights, my buddy grows it.' He explained. Elbourne had just sold a couple pounds 

to Mojo, they'd done their transaction after Mojo had played the CD he'd just finished mixing of Elbournes

band RFM- Rapid Flank Movement. 

        El had wanted to meet to Mojo's studio but Mojo had told him he'd been working from home, could

he meet him there instead? Ever seen he'd had his last transaction with Dan Murphy, who seemed to take

his getting out of the coke business personally, Mojo had avoided his studio. He'd kept his car down there

and walked home, it was about a half hour. 

        He'd been doing that for almost a week, until he figured out what he was going to do. Find another 

recording space to rent? did that make sense? Was it really that serious or was he just making something

out of nothing?

        They were in Mojo's living room, El passed the joint back to Mojo. 'You alright man? You've been

awfully quiet tonight.'

        'Yeah, I've just had this situation, I'm worried about going back to the studio.' He explained what had

happened with Murphy a few days before.

        'You  know with the internet he could probably find your home address pretty easy.' El said. 'But,

look man, at least you're out of that now. You got a new product, new hustle, you have a chance to do 

things right this time.' They were sitting in Mojo's living room, Mojo put the joint out on the ashtray.

        Mojo reached into the massive bag of herb he had at his feet and extracted a large bud and passed it

to El who was sitting on the recliner a couple seats away, 'You want to roll another one?' He asked him.

    'Sure,' El said. 'I've heard people say sometimes, that selling drugs is 'Easy money.' Man, whoever, said

that shit didn't know what the hell they were talking about in my experience. There's a lot of aspects to it,

having the clientele to be able to move the product, knowing how to tell if someone is good people or is

this person trying to fuck you. It's tough man.'

        ''I know what I'm doing.' Mojo said, somewhat defensively. El sighed, 'All due respect my man, if you did,

you wouldn't be in the position you are right now with your connect in the woods. Him, 'Getting out of

the business,' that, to me sounds like someone laying low because of heat, or suspected heat. I got robbed

once, back in College, everything, my weed, my money, my instruments, amps, all of my girlfriend at the

times stuff, the whole nine yards.'

        El, lit up the joint, took the first hit. 'And the people who did it, the couple, nicest people you'd ever 

meet, good friends of ours actually. The last people you'd suspect.' He passed the joint to Mojo, 'What 

happened?' He asked.

        'Alright, well, this was ten years ago, 2000. I had graduated high school the year before, and I'd been

working, saving up money since I was 14. My parents were poor and I wanted to get the fuck out of 

Tennessee as soon as I had the means. Also, the whole time I'd been working, I'd been selling weed also,

among the small group the might be called the hippies of our region. Also I'd been playing music since I

was 12, so I was part of the local bluegrass scene. So by the time I was a junior in high school I had a

decent amount of money saved up, which was when my friend Henry came to be with a proposition. He'd

come to an understanding with his father that he could set up a hydroponic grow operation in one of the

greenhouses on his farm, he just needed the money to buy the equipment, lights, soil, seeds, etc;'

        'Henry knew how to grow, his father had had plants outside, and he'd done his homework. Looked it

up on the internet, so I wouldn't have to worry about any of the operational details. We'd spilt it 50/50. So,

needless to say I was pretty well set up by the time I loaded up my Toyota Camry with everything I'd had

and drove out from Tennessee to Boulder, Colorado to go to College to study music.'

        'I had some friends who were a little bit older than me who were already out there and they found this

other couple who were looking for roommates in this house they were renting. So I was set up pretty good

when I went out there in the fall, I had that bud from the grow operation I financed, and this house we had

was pretty dope, old farmhouse. 

        'I'd go to class sometimes, but other than that we were just playing music, partying, selling bags to

just about anyone and everyone that came up. My vetting system was essentially, if you knew or were 

cool with one of my roommates, I figured you were ok. So, the good part of this system was that I was 

able to sell a good amount of the bud I'd brought with me in those first couple months.'

        Mojo passed the joint back to El, 'So I can't remember exactly when, maybe October or November,

this couple, these people, just kind of appear on the scene, so to speak. Like I said we were having a lot of

parties at our house at the time, lot of people coming and going, drinking, smoking, playing music, friends 

of friends and so forth. Jeff and Shirley, that was their names, they were friends of one my roommates at

least I thought they were, and I ended up selling them bags. It was never for very much, 20 here 20 there,

maybe 40, but that was pretty rare. He tried asking me to front him a 50 a few times but I shut that down 

right away.'

            'But like I said, they just kind of appeared, they didn't go to any of the colleges nearby, they didn't

work, no one was really sure where they lived. But like I said they were always over our house, especially

on the weekends, drinking our booze, smoking our weed, they almost never had anything. The truth is I 

never trusted them much, but like I said they were cool with our roommates and Shirley, Jeff's girlfriend, 

became close to my girlfriend at the time Mellissa. I never understood it but I think she felt sorry for her,

they always had a story, some complicated reason why they didn't have any money, or anything to 

contribute ever, and how hard their lives were.'

        'So, anyway, beginning of March, me and Mellissa and planning on going home to Tennessee for 

spring break, and it just so happens that my roommates are going out of town for the time period.  So Jeff

and Shirley get wind of this, they must've known better than to ask me, but they ask our roommates the 

couple, if they can stay in their room for the time they're away. They have nowhere else to go, it was still

cold at night. So my roommates gave in, let them stay for the week. I didn't think much of it, I had a lock

on my door, like I said I'd sold a good amount of that bud by then.'

        'We come back, the whole house is cleaned out. Our stuff, our roommates stuff, they took the pipes

from the walls of the house, every fucking thing. My weed, my instruments, the furniture, we found out

later they were serious meth heads.'

        'Man, that sucks.' Mojo said. He put the joint out in the ashtray. 'What did you end up doing?' he 

asked. 'Man, it sucked I had to move back home for a little bit. Of course no one ever saw Jeff or Shirley 

again, just one of those life lessons.'

        'At least now you have a chance to start over, you know. Just do your music, sell a little grass, keep a

low profile.'

            Mojo yawned, 'I think I'm gonna go to bed.' He said. 'Alright man,' El said as he got up. 'Well 

enjoy that weed, I'll talk to you later.'

   'Peace out my man.' Mojo said as Elbourne closed the door. He was glad to be alone in his house again.

He liked El, but sometimes his stories were too much. One time, his girlfriend had explained to Mojo that

he was just from the south were people were more talkative.

        He sealed up the couple pounds of weed in the bag he had next to himself on the couch. Brought it

into his room where he took a couple buds for himself to smoke before putting it in the safe in his room.

He walked out from his room back to the living room, turned on the TV, he knew Mojo did have a point

however. He had talked too much. He had enjoyed being the 'Connect,' the one with the best dope. The

one everyone talked about. His vetting process for new customers had gotten increasingly lax.

        The TV was on a low volume, the news. He sat down on the couch and crumbled up the two buds on

his tray. He just wanted some background noise. And what about Eddie? The source. He'd never told Mojo

where he was going, how long he'd be gone for. He'd already killed Roady and most of the other people

who knew his spot. What if he just decided to go scorched earth, kill the person responsible for them 

finding his house in the first place-him.

2 days earlier

         Luis sipped his coffee and regarded the other man across the booth from him at the diner. A 

fascinating specimen, he thought to himself. He was dressed in a black and white Adidas track suit, and

he'd been talking almost non-stop since they sat down, saying very little.

        'I like it up here actually, my girl lives near here. She used to go to school out here.' Steve Berardi 

explained.

        Luis nodded, 'So why did you reach out to me today Steve?' He asked, getting straight to the point.

Just as we was about to reply the waitress came, Luis told her to give him a few minutes. Steve lowered

his voice, 'Well, you know how someone's been picking off Boris's men, including his nephew? That 

someone is me, well me and a few of my associates.'

            Luis looked around, 'Interesting, Now, tell me why I shouldn't tell your boss you've been doing

these things behind his back and against his own expressed wishes? I mean the chain of command exists 

for a reason, even in organizations like ours.'

        Steve nodded, 'That's true, but I also think you'd understand that I had to do something. I couldn't just

sit back while these fucking assholes had guns to my family, people I love. You'd do the same thing if it

was you. Look, the reason I'm going to you is I'm worried. Even in this thing of ours people talk, spread 

stupid fucking rumors, and one of these assholes is telling everyone that I'm out gunning for Bobby. That I

want to take him out so I can get that top spot. Now, I'm worried he's gonna take what these fucking pricks

are saying seriously and put a hit out on me before I can do him.'

        The waitress returned, and Steve and Luis ordered. Obviously he's distorting the truth in some way,

Luis thought to himself, but perhaps someone with his skillset could be useful to me. The truth was he

couldn't help feel a little bit of admiration in his bold actions, however outside the usual chain of

command they might be.

        'So what is it you want from me?' Luis asked, sipping his coffee. 

'Well for starters, this meeting of ours were having right now? It never happened. Anyway, I know from

my sources, that Boris is coming out here with some of his men to find out what happened to his nephew

and chief Lieutenant, Anatoly. Needless to say, I know he's not going to find him. Now I know between

what you've been doing to his operations in New York with your connections, and how things have been

going south for him out here here, he's going to assume that something happened to him, and that someone

from our family is responsible.'

        'Now there's an old Sicilian saying, if you want to kill a dog you don't cut off its leg you cut off its

head. Now we have a unique opportunity here, to take out the boss and restore the natural order of things 

in this city. All I need from you is play along, tell him you have no idea who's taking out his men, who

killed his nephew. I have a plan. You still got your guy out in New York right?'

        'I'm listening.' Luis said, sipping his coffee.

            'Where are you? I'm out here.' Marina Kerimov texted Guy, as she sat in her car in front of his

apartment building. It had been over ten minutes since she'd first texted that she'd arrived and he hadn't

responded, not even an ok. It was a little past 2:30 in the morning and the more she waited the less she

liked this whole plan.

    Not that she liked it much to begin with. Boris, her father, desperate to retaliate against whoever was 

killing his men and had likely killed his nephew, wanted her to get Guy to come over, under the guise of

wanting some late night action, so that Boris and his men could question Guy as to who, exactly, in the

family was the culprit. It was obviously wasn't Guy, she knew, he was 5'4, 150 soaking wet and she knew

for a fact he wasn't capable of murder. It was what she liked most about him. Growing up with her father

she'd met plenty of killers, so he knew one when she met one.

           She'd met Guy at a bar a couple of months before, it was before her step-brother Anatoly had come

out to town to take over that strip club and make his moves. When they'd met he'd told her he was 

recovering from a beating he'd experienced a few weeks before. The more they talked the more she had

related to him, his father had been a made man in the Mafia, turned government informant. According to

his mother, he'd wanted her and Guy to come out to wherever they ended up placing him but she had 

refused. She didn't want to live like that.

        He said pull up out front right? Marina thought, as another minute passed. She was idling near the

door to his building and as she looked. up she could see that the light was on in his apartment. She'd been

up there enough to know which window was his. That's what he'd said, 'Just let me know when you're

here I'll come right out.' He'd said over the phone.

          She picked up the phone to dial the number when she heard a knock on her window and a large man

in a black sweatshirt standing right outside her car. She rolled down window, 'Excuse me miss,' the man 

began, 'You think you could help me out with a few bucks, my car broke down and I need to catch a bus...'

        What the fuck, Marina thought. wondering how to get out of this, as she reached for her pocketbook

the man was already inside her car, pointing at .22 pistol at her head. 'Do exactly as I say and you won't

get hurt.' The man began, the gun trained at her head.

        'Alright, I'll come down.' Steve said to Jamal and hung up. 'She's outside, your girlfriend, that is. For

now anyway. Don't worry, she'll be fine as long as she doesn't cause any problems.' He said to Guy. 'Ok.'

Guy had replied, sullenly. They were in Guy's apartment. Steve had come over a couple of hours earlier

when Guy had texted him to let him know that Marina was going to pick him up later that night. It was

finally all coming together like he'd planned.

       Steve finished off the bottle of Smirnoff ice he had been working on, he was in Guy's small 

kitchenette, 'Well I'm gonna go out there kid.' He said as he made his way to the door, Guy made no reply

as he turned the knob. 'You know, for what is worth if you'd gone over there with her her father and his

goons would be working you over right now. If anything I did you a favor. This will all be over soon.'

        Steve walked out into the hallway and down the stairs of Guy's building feeling satisfied with 

himself. He'd gotten the men he'd needed from Luis to send out to New York to pay Boris girlfriend in the

Bronx, and his son, a lawyer who lived in lower Manhattan, a little visit. He'd also sent a couple of his

guys out to West Hartford, Connecticut, where his mother, who was almost 90, lived. 

        Steve sighed as he walked outside into the cool air, across the street where he saw the silver Toyota 

Camry, waiting where Jamal had said it would be. Jamal was in the drivers seat, and Marina, was in the

passenger seat. 

    'What up?' Jamal said, as he rolled down the window. 'Beautiful night out my man. Thanks again.' Steve

said as he shook his hand. Jamal handed him Marina's phone, Steve took a quick glance at her. Black hair,

dark eyes, she shot him a look of intense hatred as his eyes caught hers.

        'So what do you want us to do?' Jamal asked. Steve then noticed there was someone else in the 

backseat, with what looked like a pistol trained on Marina in the passenger. 'Look just take of her for a few

days, give her whatever she needs. Honestly, I think all of this should be over in the next couple of days.'

Steve explained. 

    He reached into the pocket of his track pants and pulled out a bottle of Oxycontin, along with a wad of 

cash. 'Take her back to your place or wherever you want to go and I'll be in touch with you tomorrow or 

the next day, let you know what's going on.' He said.

        'Alright.' Jamal said, and rolled up the window. As they drove off Steve contemplated going back up 

to Guy's apartment, letting him know he was heading out, something stopped him however. Why? He's 

already served his purpose.

        The sun was just coming up over the horizon as Steve pulled into Shannon's driveway. He'd had her

car for the past 2 days conducting his various dealings in Warner, but he'd been in touch with her the 

whole time, still as he pulled into her driveway and put the car in park he hoped she wasn't mad. He'd

gotten the confirmations from the guy's he had in play in New York and Connecticut that they had all

reached their targets, everything was in place.

        Just have to make the call, Steve thought as he grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat of  

Shannon's car and made his way to the front door. I mean I do help her with rent and other things, so what

if I had the car a little longer than I usually do? he thought idly to himself as he took out his keys and

unlocked the door.

        The house was quiet as he walked inside, I've been waiting to make this call since these assholes first

came on the scene, he thought to himself as he put his backpack down on the couch and head straight for

the bathroom to take a shower. 

        After he'd showered, dressed, smoked a couple of joints and put on a fresh set of clothes, Steve 

headed out onto their small backyard area with Marina's phone to make the call. He checked the time on

the phone, a little after 7:30, he's got to be wondering where his daughter is by now, Steve thought to 

himself as he checked the contacts on the phone. It was an old Nokia so it was easy enough to find him 

under 'Papa.'

    He dialed the number.

        I wonder if she had a change of heart, Boris thought as he came through the door of Marina's a paper

bag from the pharmacy in one hand. She'd left to pick up Guy around 2 and Boris and a couple of his men

had waited in the living room, watching TV, for her to return so they could question Guy. 

        As Boris had waited he'd smoked a lot of cigarettes, drank a lot of vodka and made many phone calls,

before realizing, as he saw the light of dawn outside, that a lot of time had passed. He'd ended up sending 

his guys home for the night, the more he thought about it he could probably handle questioning the kid on

his own.

        He sat down on the couch in the living room and took out the bottle of aspirin he'd picked up at the

pharmacy and opened the bottle, put a couple on his hand. He'd cut himself off from booze a couple hours

earlier for the interrogation when Marina got back, and he'd set up the coffeemaker to brew as he'd walked

down to the drugstore to get something for his head.

       He got himself a black coffee from the kitchen and used it to wash down the two aspirins as he turned

on the TV and sat down on the couch. He switched it to the local news, he didn't really care what was on

he just wanted some background noise.

      There could be another reason she's running late, Boris thought as he took his phone out of his pocket 

to see if he'd missed any calls. Didn't she say he had an Uncle who a made guy in that mafia family that

owned the club?

        She still hasn't gotten back to me, he thought as he checked his phone. Something is off with this.. he

thought as his phone lit up with a call, it was her, he picked up the phone.

    'Where have you been?' Boris asked as he answered. The alcohol he'd drunk hours earlier was just 

wearing off and he sounded more irritated then he meant too.

        'Good morning scumbag.' A mans voice on the other end of the line said. 'I'm glad we finally get

to talk, I've been dreaming of this moment for a long time.'

        'Who is this? Where the hell is my daughter?' Boris asked.

        'Me? I'm the lion of the Panjshir. As for your daughter, she is safe, in an undisclosed location. Now

weather she remains that way is entirely up to you. If I were you I'd listen very carefully to what I'm about

to say right now. Not only do I have your daughter, but right now my associates have your son Seth, down

in Chinatown, your Mother, Anna in West Hartford, even your cute little Puerto Rican girlfriend Tatiana,

up on the Bronx.'

        'Now unless you do exactly as I tell you, I'm gonna to have my associates execute each and every

person that I just mentioned. Do you want to know the terms?'

    'Ok.' Boris replied.

        'Alright.' Steve said, 'Very good. One, you sign the gentlemen's club now going by the name Odessa,

formerly the House of Venus, back over to it's original owner, Tony Contakis. Whatever money he may

have given you for the sale of the club, was given under duress, and you're just going to have to eat the

loss.'

        'You will, however, make a payment of 800,000 in cash to me or one of my associates. Call it 

reparations for the psychological damage endured by my associates and their families from being 

threatened by your goons these past few months.'

        'Second, you and your associates agree to never return to this city, Warner, or Franklin, and to not 

seek any further criminal enterprises in the region. I see, or hear or 2 or more wiseguys from the Eastern

Bloc I'm going to assume they're friends of yours and respond accordingly. Further if you or any or your

associates venture into this city again, for any reason, I'll kill you myself.'

    'Now I understand this some of this might take a little bit of time so I'm giving you 48 hours to fulfill 

the terms. If the terms are not fulfilled in this time, my associates will act accordingly. Should I for some

reason be unable to contact my associates after this time, they will also respond in time. Do not fuck 

with me on this. Oh and one more thing, the 800 grand, I want you to deliver it personally, not one of your

goons or minions, it has to be you, or the deal is off. Do you understand?'

    'Yes.' Boris replied.

'Good, I'll be in touch.'

    Boris hung up the phone, still in shock. No one talked to him that way.

        Bugsy Siegel, now that was a good hit, the assassin thought, cutting his pancake with his fork and

taking a bite. He was in a small local diner located in the middle of the woods in New Hampshire where

he'd been tracking his target. 

        He'd slept in his car in a dirt road in the woods, close to the cabin where the target was staying. He

went out to a small creek near the place to fish each morning around 10, most of the time. The assassin

had set up his rifle at a spot with a clear view of the clearing in the woods in the creek where he went

most of the time.

        The assassin had gotten up early because he knew the target tended to get up late. He'd been tracking

him for almost a week now, not quite sure where to make the move. Killed while sitting on his couch in

his house, Bugs. You know it was a good hit because it's still unsolved, the assassin thought. 

        Same situation here, the assassin thought. I'll finish my breakfast now, go pop this poor bastard at

ten or so, and I'll be out of the country by dinner time. 

    They won't fucking know, he thought. Probably just think it's the Mafia finally getting even. From what

the assassin had heard when they told him about the job, the captain up there, Luis really wanted to get

this one done, even offered an extra 5 grand for it. 

        'Need a warm up?' The waitress said as she came over with a steaming pot of coffee. She was a 

young attractive blond.

    'Yes, thank you.' The assassin said, smiling. Women always dug his accent. It was exotic, or so they 

said. 

        He poured some more cream into his coffee. He checked his watch, 7:30, plenty of time. Even though

he usually didn't care much about how his targets were or why his employers wanted them dead, he'd been

curious about this one, so he'd looked him up.

        Gerry Pagano, underboss of the Berardi family, in the early 90's he'd been moving a lot of heroin,

against the wishes of the boss of the family, Carmine Berardi. When he was busted after selling a large

quantity of heroin to a federal agent and facing Narcotics trafficking charges he agreed to wear a wire. 

    His testimony was the backbone of the governments massive RICO case against he family. After only 

serving 5 years in prison he eventually returned to this city where he helped run the underworld, living

openly, mainly telling stories about his criminal past.

        The assassin smiled, taking another sip of his coffee. The target had actually made it easier for him

this time. He'd put a GPS tracker on his car and had been stalking his movements for a few days unsure

where to make a move. He associated with a lot of cops, city cops, state cops. Cops, cops, cops. There

were still ways he do it in that kind of environment, but he didn't like it. It felt off. He'd been about to

give up when the target had decided to get out of town for a few days, to his older brothers cabin. The

brother had given it to the target after he'd gone to Federal prison.

        The assassin gestured to the waitress for the check, yup, there was something to be said for the long

range kill-less messy.