NationStates Jolt Archive

Santiago Beach, New Verona

Waterview Motel is located at the end of Waterview Blvd. The main strip just opposite the famous beaches of New Verona. The strip contains flashy night clubs, nice hotels, places to eat, strip clubs, everything one would look for on vacation. The Waterview is actually located a few blocks behind at the end of the Boulevard. It's tucked between a car dealership and a rival motel, both vying for customers during the Summer, which neither has trouble getting. It's a two story motel, open aired, with two wings jutting out like an "L" with the front office at the entrance to the only parking lot for the motel. It's painted ocean blue and white, attempting to capture the Carribean feel of the area. There's a large sign at the entrance, bragging about all they offer. It's a cheap motel but there's always plenty of people wanting to stay for cheap. A line of palm trees, swaying in the cool night breeze coming off the sea adds to the appeal.

Inside the motel in room 4B, the atmosphere was less friendly.

"You lied to me, Rico" A man, wearing a wife beater and blue jeans, his muscular body heavily ladden with tattoos, says.

The man he is talking to is handcuffed in the shower, he struggles to stand up but a swift ounch to the kidneys sends him collapsing, dangling by the cuffs. His shirt is stained with blood, face mangled.

The man replies, "I-I'm not lying!"

"Rico, what am I going to do with you?" The tattooed man questioned. It was a retorical question. He sat down on the toilet and lit a cigarette and checked his watch, "Your man should've called by now"

'He'll call" Rico replied, struggling to control his breathing. Another man walked into the bathroom. He simply looked down at the tattooed man and shook his head.

The tattooed man stood up, taking a long drag from the cigarette, eyes plastered on Rico, "You're out of time Rico. The boss doesn't appreciate this kind of business, he will not tolerate it either"

"W-What do you mean?!" Rico begged, "Ernesto was supposed to call, he has the shipment"

"You mean the shipment that the cops seized three days ago. The same shipment you were trying to sell to us. How did you get the drugs from the cops, Rico?" Once again, a rhetorical question.

Rico's eyes darted around and suddenly his ehart dropped to the most bottom part of his body, they knew!

"Your man is not yours, he's ours" The tattooed man grabbed Rico by his hair, theie faces inches apart, "And you're their man!" he yelled

"No!" Rico cried, "I'm straight, Lobo. I'm no rat!"

Lobo let go of Rico's hair and said, "la sierra de cadena, por favor" in a calm, nonchalant tone. Rico's eyes went wide, glazed with fear. A few seconds later, the other man returned with a small chainsaw and placed it on the sink and left. Lobo stood up and traced a finger along the serate edges of the chainsaw. He was in a trance, this is what he lived for.

"It is a shame, Rico" Lobo said, "You could've had whatever you wanted but instead you go to La Policia" He placed a hand around the cord and pulled, reving the chainsaw. It roared to life after three pulls and Lobo weilded it high up, examining it in the flourescent light, smiling wide, two of his teeth were gold.

Club Fever, located a block or two by the actual Boulevard drowned out the sounds of the chainsaw and the accompanying screams...

OOC: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=590591

Club Fever, might have been but a block or two away, but in terms of money and power a world or two distant from the Waterview, and even there we were slumming. The glistening ebony Maybach was being watched by my bodyguard and his crew; they weren't being paid to enjoy the nightlife.

But Silk wanted to see if she could find a new boy toy. Not that she was likely too, her tastes were too specific. She didn't do brainless hunks, they had to be hunks and rocket scientists, and dangerous on top of that.

It didn't worry me, little sis could take care of herself, and if it got to where I had to step in? Well, they'd pay for my time and troubles. But it hadn't happened yet. Like I said, the brainy type who knew not to make waves.

I was between flavors myself, and who knows, I might find a bed bunny to suit my tastes. Which are as defined as Silks, and actually similar in many ways. We both liked sharing I really preferred my women not so dangerous however. Sleeping with one eye open was not conducive to good tempers in the morning...Though I always slept well with Silk next to me.

Silk was out on the dance floor right now, looking as smooth as her namesake, even if I wasn’t sure how long she was going to be able to keep from falling out of that skimpy outfit. It showed off a perfect bod – thanks to an active lifestyle and mucho time in the salle. She practiced MMA – mixed martial arts- and ballet both with a passion, and it showed in every move. The boy she was with, and while by age he might have been a man, but he was a droopy jeaned wanna- be in terms of experience. Though he wasn’t in nearly off his ass baggies, the suite he was in probably cost a K at least, but the Maui Jim Bayfront rip-offs slid back over his bedhead tousle spoke bigger volumes. Mine were real. Silk would walk off before the music finished – I knew my lil’ sis well.

The pretty under my arms snuggled in nicely and hadn’t said one word about the gun under my own impeccably tailored suit. Mine cost over five times what the boy’s had and hid my shoulder holster and what filled it perfectly. It was a soft off white and made the deep blood red of my shirt just blaze.

But enough of the Cosmo write up. I was waiting for a report and my Mojito was getting low. Combining business with pleasure wasn’t always a bad thing. One just had to keep everything under control. I signaled for another. This would only be my second for the night, and I always drank them slow. I far preferred keeping my wits about me. I didn’t use what Los Dos Muertes sold either, I’m not that stupid. I liked being in control.

Dimitri Adenski from outward apperances had all the looks of a Eastern European strongman, broad shoulder, piercing blue eyes, deep voice. He was born in Kulikovia, having lived tough life he eventually turned to crime and worked for a syndicate under a man named Kolokov. They had a disagreement here and there and it eventually led to Adenski's termination of employment and Kolokov's termination of living. Since then, he'd moved across the ocean and now resided in New Verona. He much perfered it to the cold, hostile climate of Kulikovia. Here, it was warm and sunny year round and he could have whatever he wanted. Adenski was a man of connections, he prided himself on a strong work and business ethic that carried alot of weight, even in illegal circles. His dream of owning a nightclub came true when he bought, referbished, and livened up Club Fever. He was the owner on the deed and title of ownership. He signed the paychecks, order forms, and other paperwork, he rubbed elbows with the elite of New Verona and entertained him. But, that was where it ended.

Adenski formed a business partnership with one Milo Kane, and his sister. Adenski recognized the winds of change in the air and decided that sooner or later, his small outfit of Kulikovian and other Eastern European associates would have to choose sides. Los Dos Muertes were on the rise.

He ran a hand through his hair, adjusted the tie to his suit and walked up the stairs to the VIP suite. It overlooked the dance floor, a two-way mirror of sorts. The music was deafening. He entered the suite and saw Milo, enjoying the view and the company of a female companion. Adenski oversaw smuggling and trafficking operations, perhaps she was one of his, or just an honest woman from the club, he didn't care.

"Milo" Adenksi said, his accent mild, having taught himself English, "The news is not good, my friend"

Samantha Smith stepped into the darkened room. For once, she was in a town that was warm but every bloody building had the air conditioning cranked up to near-Arctic levels. She imagined she could see her breath. At least, that was what she had heard could happen when it was cold.

She waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness but they didn't, so she took off her sunglasses and hung them from the neck of her black T-shirt.

There was a cheap-looking girl on the dance-floor, all over some poor youngster - not worth a second glance. And there was a guy in a suit that probably cost more than she made in a year, drinking something in a tall glass. You don't make that kind of money doing anything honest, she told herself, noticing the gun that stuck out under his suit like a sore thumb.

She walked up to the bar. "Coffee. Fatatatutian if you have it. Double double." She thought she heard the sound of a small engine nearby but it was hard to tell with the traffic noise.

Dammit, I lost sight of him. Sean Mercer thought to himself as he struggled through the human mass on the dancefloor. Strobe lights shot out from all angles and smoke machines added to the nighttime alure of the club. There were possibly hundreds of people here tonight and it felt like he was bumping into every single one of them. He kept eyes on Adenski for about fifteen minutes. He saw him along the catwalk with a cell phone, this was a new phone he had never seen before, one they didn't have a wire tap on. He opted out of carrying a comm link or a microphone, it was far too loud for the team to hear anything and at this rate he wouldn't get within twenty feet of Adenski. Not only did the crowd pose a problem, but the half dozen men always with Adenski. He gritted his teeth as his head swiveled around, desperate to get a lead on him again. To no avail, his partner was somewhere outside but he probably couldn't see anything either.

Mercer finally got out of the human mass, breathing a sigh of relief, he rolled up his sleeves to his blue dress shirt. It was getting hotter by the minute at the club, hence the name he figured. He leaned up against the bar and turned his attention to the woman next to him, nonchalantly of course.

"Who orders coffee at a night club?" He asked, struggling over the music.

The coffee wasn't bad but it wasn't Fatatatutian either. Sam sat on a barstool, casually looking over the rim of her cup at the denizens of Club Fever.

The stocky man who had gone up the stairs as she came in had a look of authority about him - probably the owner. Among the patrons, there were a lot of what she would call 'greasy hoods', insecure without a big gun in their pockets, a gaudy whore on their arms and who knows how much of what substance up their noses and in their veins. They were dangerous, in a reptillian kind of way. The man who entertained such customers in his club was unlikely to be squeaky clean either - and he was probably more dangerous. She looked around for the capable men who did his bidding but she didn't see any. That was worrying.

In Fatatatutti, public nudity was not uncommon, but most of the women in this room she could only describe as 'skanky'. You'd want to boil yourself in bleach if you touched them. She wondered how out of place she seemed in her black T-shirt and black combat pants. But nobody seemed to pay her any notice at all.

"Who orders coffee at a night club?" He asked, struggling over the music.

Sam glanced at him, trying not to seem too pleased at being noticed. He had an almost clean-cut look about him, at least in comparison to the rest of the room. "Keeps me awake," she said. "Alcohol just turns people into... well, them." she pointed at the crowd with her cup.

Sean couldn't help but nod at her remark which caused him to glance over at the dance floor. She was certainly right. Of course, he had his fair share of drunken escapades but naturally we learn from them, some people just take longer. "That's why God invented Red Bull Vodka's, best of both worlds" he replied and grabbed the bartender's attention and ordered one.

Sean took a sip of it, he needed the ed Bull more than anything, he hadn't slept in 24hrs but managed himself well, such was the price he paid for what he did. But it would all pay off someday, he hoped.

"Come here often?" Sam asked, trying to keep a striaght face. This wasn't the kind of place that tourists frequented, unless they were pretending to have an 'adventure' and even then, they tended to travel in packs. This fellow was as out of place as she was but was it for the same reason? Who hangs out with criminals except other criminals and cops?

Come here often? It was an out of place question in his mind. Usually by now a girl asks you to buy her a drink or something else along those lines. He had a back story and had to stick to it.

"I'm breezing through town" Sean replied, taking another sip, "This is my first time at this club, it's got all the trappings of a usual night club, yourself?" He asked, trying to redirect the conversation to her, he was more of a listener and could only bullshit for so much, he was good at deception and lying, which is most of the game.

"I'm breezing through town" Sean replied, taking another sip, "This is my first time at this club, it's got all the trappings of a usual night club, yourself?"

"I'm from Fatatatutti. I'm just on my way home for the Luau Festival. Ever been? I was supposed to change planes here but there was some mechanical problem or something, so I guess I'm stuck for a couple of days. I work for the Department of Labour. Whenever I'm out of the country, I like to get in touch with Fatatatutian expats and see how they're being treated. I was out looking at the local... architecture and whatnot and I felt like a coffee. They don't seem to have Tim Hortons' here so I tried this place." She wrinkled her nose in her best annoyed housewife impersonation. "I wouldn't want my kids coming to a place like this - if I had any kids." She tried not to look too closely at him. If he was carrying a weapon, it wasn't as conspicuous as the stereotypical thugs.

"Can't say I've ever been to the Luau Festival, but I hear it makes Carnivale look like an Easter Parade" Sean replied, taking another tug of his drink. By this time he'd nearly forgotten about Mr.Adenski but managed to keep a casual eye about and up towards the catwalk, inconspiciously of course. So far, Adenski hadn't left the VIP lounge.

"Yeah" Sean chuckled, "Scoping out the architecture. Well, how does the structural integrity of this place look? I hope it's better that the moral integrity of the partygoers over there" He rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry, we've been talking and I never introduced myself, I'm Tyler, and you are?"

Krist Alsaru shot the Policia operative twice in the head, blood pouring out of the wounds. His shirt, white in colour, was swarmed over with the reed liquid of blood. Operatives from the Policia were killed instantly by Krist, ending their lives slowly. He had tortured the operative with a baseball bat and pianowire before finally destroying him with the bullets to the head. People like him were evil, nothing more than cowards and arrogant bastards. He took the body out of his shower room in Krist's temporary safehouse and dumped him the river just outside his house.

Krist went out to his car, a small sedan. He had destroyed his fast car because it attracted far to much attention, an act which had nearly got him killed on occasion. He jumped in the sedan, with two Uzis in the car and started driving to one of the suburbian slums to collect the cocaine shipments from his homeland Zunola, currently engulfed in a Civil War. After he picked that up, he had all day free to himself, during which he would work out mostly.

It was good working for the Organisation, as he called it. He was wearing his usual clothing, a white sleeved shit, blue jeans and white trainers. He had Kevlar underneath, and two Uzis with him.

Lou Waters liked to think of himself as a small-time businessman, running a successful fishing and boating business. The fact that 90% of the boats were stuffed to the oars with drugs or came back one person short was a fact he overlooked, both in his mind and his dealings with the federal agencies.

Lou's office closed earlier than most, to allow the boss the maximum amount of free time while still looking like a business. Lou watched as his almost all-female staff left, then locked the doors and got in his car, one of the new models from Guartama that were the hit in Telvira. He cruised down the street, and parked a bit away from his hangout, Club Fever. He pulled a Glock pistol out of his glove compartment, put it in a shoulder holster, and walked in.

The atmosphere was the usual, which in the case of Club Fever meant the kind of music that sounded like it was making the sides of the building bulge, a lot of ladies wearing less clothing than most did to bed, and enough concealed firepower to conquer Paris. Lou sat himself down at the far end of the bar and ordered a drink, then began to look around. A few of the women fit his taste, but he had the whole day ahead of him. And most of the night, if things were good.

Meanwhile, at the Waterview Motel, Lobo removed his red stained wife beater and tossed it into one of several garbage bags in the bathroom. He placed the chainsaw, well worn out and the chain gummed up off to the side. Two other men, Carlos and Esteban busied themselves in wiping down the motel. Lobo was well versed in these sort of situations. He was tenacious and dangerous, but also frightfully street-smart. There were five garbage bags, all filled with the contents of the late Rico Varon. There was no way to hide all the blood, but that was the point. The point was to let the cops see all the blood eft behind but wonder about the body. It sends a powerful message to both the cops and rival outfits that a lunatic gangster was out on the streets and was bold enough to do something on the scale of this. Lobo's chief weapons were fear and violence. Through violence, he created fear, and with fear would come respect and obedience. No one crossed him.

"Lobo, the truck's outside" Carlos said. Lobo nodded and changed shirts, He walked outside with one of the bags while Carlos and Esteban carried the others. No one noticed them haul the bags into the back of the truck. Carlos and Estaban got in the truck with the driver and sped off without a word, they knew their task. Rico would be gator food before the sun was up. Lobo produced a carton of cigarettes and leaned against the light pole of the parking lot and took a long, satisfying drag, he could hardly believe that he got paid to do these sort of things, it gave him a quaint smile.

"Yeah" Sean chuckled, "Scoping out the architecture. Well, how does the structural integrity of this place look? I hope it's better that the moral integrity of the partygoers over there" He rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry, we've been talking and I never introduced myself, I'm Tyler, and you are?"

"Samantha. Sam. Do you know any Smiths around here? There seem to be a lot of us all around the world." Her coffee was getting cold, from the unholy air conditioning, no doubt, but she wanted to make it last. This 'Tyler', if indeed that was his real name, was as reluctant to tell her anything as she was reluctant to tell him anything. It looked like it might really turn into a two-day layover with nothing accomplished.

Oh,well. Got to give a little to get a little, she decided. "Is there a crime problem here in town?" she asked. "I didn't get a chance to read the travel books because I wasn't planning on being here. Is it safe?"

Sean smiled a coy smile, "There are dangerous men here, I'd look out if I were you" he winked. The music continued to pulse through the club, the walls seemed to manipulate from the sound and the crowd loed it. Their hands raised skyward, jumping, grinding, dancing.

"But you look like someone who can handle herself" He said.

After downing his second vodka, Lou decided it was time to find some companionship. A blond sitting in a booth nearby caught his attention. He got up and sat down next to her. "Hey, baby. Name's Lou. What brings you here?" It was a joke, of course. The girl had a wad of money bigger than fist sticking out of her pocket. Lou fished out a 100 dollar bill and slid it into her shirt. "What's say you and me go somewhere with less of a crowd."

A few blocks away from Club Fever, the crowd cheered again as the scantily-clad girl walked up and down the street once more, eventually coming to a stop in the middle of the street. She raised her hands, appealing for quiet. Sensing her intent, the crowd, a myriad of people with different nationalities, shut up for the moment. In front of her, the insanely-painted, illegally modified cars sat on the road, their engines revving up something bad. The cars pulled up to a white line bisecting the street down the middle. Quickly, the girl brought her hands down to her sides, and the engines roared. The racers were off, down an insanely dangerous track around the entire Verona strip.

Daisuke Nagasaka smiled as his people brought in the money taken from the bets. Just by looking, he could tell it was at least a few good thousand dollars. Yessiree, business right now was good.

Sean smiled a coy smile, "There are dangerous men here, I'd look out if I were you" he winked. "But you look like someone who can handle herself" He said.

"I don't tell this to just anybody," Sam set her empty coffee cup down on the bar, "but I know twenty-seven ways to kill a man with my bare hands. I presume they work on women too." She looked out across the crowd and remembered her earlier thought about boiling in bleach. "I'd want to wear rubber gloves, though, with this bunch." The bartender didn't seem any too eager to offer her another coffee, even at five USD a pop, so she tried to get his attention. "No, wait. I tell a lie. It's really only twenty-six ways. Number Seventeen doesn't work if he's wearing a tie. But on the other hand, Number Six requires a tie." The bartender was looking at her so she pointed at her cup, hoping he'd recognize the universal sign language. She noticed he was wearing a tie.

She turned to Tyler and said bluntly, "You look like a cop."

Sean laughed, "It's a good thing I'm not wearing a tie, right?" he replied. This was certainly interesting, most conversations with women at clubs don't go like this, there was actually something interesting here on his hands and it was agreeable.

Then, her next question came straight out of left field. Smantha straight up asked is he were a cop, he managed to play it off, looking up at her, continuing to drain the rest of his drink, "I know I must look like one to you. Let me tell you a secret"

Sean leaned in close, they were inches apart and he spoke directly into her ear, "I'm actually CIA, but that's just between the two of us. But now I sadly have to kill you" he laughed.

Down the block, parked along the side of the road was a blue panel van, no back windows. Inside, Detectives Ryan Daniels and Marcus Greene sat, cramped and tired in the back of the van. They were pulling surveillance tonight, much to their shagrin. All sorts of audio and visual equipment were stuffed back there with them. The harsh glow of three screens were starting to irritate Daniels as he rolled his sleeves up and listened to the mic that Mercer was wearing on his shirt.

"CIA?!" Daniels exclaimed, "That fuckin' prick. He gets to play rico suave at the club while we're stuck in this damned van"

Marcus Greene turned around, sipping on a soda, "Keep it down Ryan" he pleaded, "I hate this more than you so just shut the fuck up"

Their small detail had been watching Club Fever for a week now. Two weeks ago three Eastern European women were found floating in Verona Bay. They were extra cargo on a cargo ship. Human trafficking was one of the numerous crimes committed in New Verona. The breadcrumbs danced around Adenski but nothing thus far could connect him to the dead prostitutes. Their case overlapped with a narcotics case Mercer and his partner were running so now they are one big happy family.

While the blond snuggled in his lap and Lou reflected on how great his life seemed to be, Lou's cell phone rang. He moved the blond's arm and fished it out of his pocket. "Lou here," he said briskly. "What's up?" On the other end, a deep, emotionless voice spoke. "There's a problem with the next boating tour." Lou was instantly all business. "I'll be there in a bit." He rose and gave the blond a swat on the backside. "Run along, honey. Business to tend to." Lou rose walked out of the club, got in his car, and started driving to his financial manager and best friend Calos Holuito. Something was wrong, and Lou needed to find out what.

Sean leaned in close, they were inches apart and he spoke directly into her ear, "I'm actually CIA, but that's just between the two of us. But now I sadly have to kill you" he laughed.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Think how sad it must make me."

The bartender had refilled her coffee but he had neglected to stir it. He had sensed that she was a frugal tipper, she decided, one of the awesome powers of bartenders. As she stirred, she leaned in, not nearly as close as Tyler had, and said, "Fatatatutti Intelligence, FI6, so I can't let you." With any luck, he wouldn't believe that either. If there's one thing better than a lie, it's an unexpected truth.

"I'm not here on official business. I really am between planes, although I probably could have made more of an effort to get out. But it doesn't hurt to bring a little extra information home now and then, eh? Unfortunately, with the price of coffee around here, this is shaping up to be one of the most expensive intel ops in Fatatatutian history."

"The one thing I've learned in the spy game is that anything can be written off as a business expense or travel claim" Sean joked, "When tax season rolls around, I claim my jetpack as work-related so I get a deduction"

Sean raised a hand and asked for another Red Bull Vodka. Whatever Adenski was doing up there, it had to be important. It was a shame that they didn't have enough probably cause for a wire tap on the club, yet anyways. Tonight was proving to be a waste of manhours but he looked back at Samantha and decided it wasn't a total waste, "I guess I can let you live" Sean sighed, "You're very lucky"

"The one thing I've learned in the spy game is that anything can be written off as a business expense or travel claim" Sean joked, "When tax season rolls around, I claim my jetpack as work-related so I get a deduction"

"You don't know Fatatatutti. The average tax rate is 100%. That's the average, mind you. Thank God I'm not one of those rich people who has to pay more."

"I guess I can let you live" Sean sighed, "You're very lucky"

"That's a relief. I have to pay for my own funeral. I need some warning so I can start saving up."

She sipped her coffee and continued in a more thoughful vein, "A famous Fatatatutian philosopher - say that three times fast - once said that the best defense is not having any enemies. That's how we stay peaceful. Sam's corollary to that is, you don't need luck when people don't take you seriously."

She touched her short red hair. "You know, I used to dye my hair brown so I'd blend in, so I wouldn't be noticed - useful in my line of work. But it didn't work." She shook her head. "Some joker seems to notice me wherever I go. So my brother talked me into going back to my natural colour. And I still get the same jokers latching on to me." She finished her coffee. "Well, maybe it's a better class of joker."

Sean felt the playful sting of her words. He wasn't offended, it came off too well to be a real insult. But what the Hell. This Samantha Smith was indeed far more interesting than the other women parading around the dance club, looking for action.

"Someone with a knack for cheesy one liners might say-'I'm more of an Ace, not a Joker'. But that's not me" Sean replied as he placed a hand on his chest, "Anyways, it's hard to go through this life without making an enemy or two. I happen to find them wherever I go, there might be one or two here tonight for all I know" His eyes drifted back to the VIP Lounge, his partner was still nowhere to be found, there was absolutely no movement coming in or out of the lounge. He would give anything for a chance to eavesdrop on whatever they were talking about up there. He hadn't noticed anyone else go in there since he showed up, so it left the more interesting question, who is he talking to? He could be on the phone, doubtful. It ached at him.

"It goes to show you never know who you run into in places like this" He commented.

"Anyways, it's hard to go through this life without making an enemy or two. I happen to find them wherever I go, there might be one or two here tonight for all I know"

"I have a few places I can't go back to myself. They still want me to pay for that rental car that I wrecked in Unibot - but it wasn't my fault."

"It goes to show you never know who you run into in places like this" He commented.

"Well, we might meet again in the next day or so, you never know." Sam tapped the microphone on Tyler's shirt. "Good night guys. Take care of my buddy here, okay?"

She stood up. "Anyway, they only seem to have two kinds of hotels in New Verona - expensive and filthy - so I'm going to sleep in a chair at the airport. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

She slipped away through the crowd and disappeared into the warm evening.

Sean couldn't manage a word out, his jaw didn't drop, his eyes didn't bug out, he just was at a loss for words. The microphone wasn't obvious, it was well concealed, at least that's what Lester, the guy down at the equipment room said when they signed out for the surveillance gear. He would've offered her a place to sleep, if his mind had continued to function after she tapped his chest. All he could do was watch her disappear through the crowd. A smirk appeared on his face, he would most enjoy running into her again.

In the surveillance van, Daniels listened intently, then suddenly it sounded like thunderous roars being piped directly into his brain, he threw the headset to the ground and complained about the noise.

"Did you hear that?!" Daniels said to Greene.

Greene fumbled the headset off, shaking his head from the noise, "I can't believe that"

Back in the club, Sean managed to gather himself up enough to walk away from the bar. In the same instance that he was thoroughly impressed, it scared the shit out of him. He decided to make a quick exit and produced his cell phone. He combated the crowd once more and managed outside. His eyes darted around, but couldn't catch a glimpse of her. He moved off to the side and dialed a number to the van and explained to them that he was made out but wasn't sure if the female was a threat, he gave a thourough description of the woman and Daniels passed it on to their lieutenant who was running the case. She mentioned the airport. The fact that she made him out sent red lights off instantly.

"We're gonna need to keep a tab on Ms.Smith" Sean said, distancing himself casually from the club, walking down Waterside Boulevard, "There's something about her, it doesn't feel right"

"You think she's working for Adenski?" Daniels asked over the phone.

'I dunno, doubtful is my best guess. Maybe a third party that's not on our radar. Whoever she was, she knows countersurveillance, that's for sure" Sean replied.

As Jimmy and his partner Chester “Styles” Abraham arrived at the scene, Jimmy cut the radio, unfortunate since it was only in the middle of playing “Highway to Hell.” Styles almost always did the driving, mostly since he had seniority, but also because he could arrive at a scene in less than three minutes without breaking a single traffic violation. Styles even parallel parked if he could find an appropriate spot.

“What have we got?” asked Jimmy, approaching Donny from Crime Scene Unit. For a forensics techie, Donny was still a nerd, but a nerd that didn’t wear glasses.

“Not pretty. Man’s got about six bullets in him, initial C.O.D. is gunshot wound, choose which one you want. .45 casings, a few extra bullets in the wall accounting for the extra casings. Oh, and he’s got tats.”

“Prison or gang?” he asked, as he looked over to the body. The man had dark skin that the spotlights and darkening sky only accented.

“Both. Served time for group, the 60s.”

“Thanks,” said Jimmy. He walked over to the body, crouching down as he put on his latex gloves. Rotating on his feet, he began sighting towards the small tags where CSU had marked the brass casings. He walked over to them, noting their pattern. Something about it bothered him. He called Donny over. “Donny, can I get a look at the casings you collected?” When he received the box with its divided compartments for each casing, he took out the one for ‘A’ and found the needed difference in ‘D’. He held them up to Donny. “What type of shooter uses two different brands of bullets in the same clip?” Putting them back in the collection box, he walked over to where Styles was talking to the gathering spectators, looking for the witnesses who actually had something important to relate. Styles broke off when he saw Jimmy approaching him.

“What have we got?” he asked Jimmy, who was better at the physical side of the job. That was the other reason Styles always drove.

“Two shooters. At least, I’m willing to bet on two shooters. We’ve got two different brands of .45 casings, so I’m betting on two hitters. You get anything on our corpse?”

“You can be so polite,” Styles said with only the necessary minimum of sarcasm. “Other than his gang affiliation, I don’t have much. There were some shootings close by recently, nobody dead, but I’ll pull the files when we get to the station.” Styles looked at Jimmy, noting that odd expression Jimmy had. “What are you thinking?”

“Aggression.” This came from another man, walking up with his partner and ducking under the yellow tape. "McDulny, Abraham, how are you guys?" The two were Detectives Jason Steighs and Lauren Solmonese, Jason having spoken up. "Least we can figure, somebody bumping off competition. You guys here any recent chatter?"

Styles nodded, Jimmy spoke, "Not much, but the pattern matches some other unsolveds. We figure two shooters, each with a 45. We're thinking Muertes."

"Yeah, and that's where we step in. We've got a couple others, same M.O, so the sarge sent us to take lead. Unless you want this?" said Lauren, making the offer. Styles just laughed and shook his head.

"We'll get the next one, and I'll talk to some of my guys," offered Jimmy, heading back to the car. When he got there, the radio kicked in. He took the call, and managed to get himself into a situation with a body washing up in a boating canal nearby. He went back to where Styles was handing over their notes to Steighs and Solmonese. "Chester, let's go! We got a new one. We should have taken this one, but that's over. C'mon, perps need arresting."

Lou burst into Calos Holuito's office. "What's wrong?!" "One two of the passengers on the next boat cruise are dead." What? How?" Carlos picked up a file and thumbed through it. "One's disappeared, shortly after a run-in with the police, and the other's been found with six .45 rounds in his skull." Lou's jaw dropped. "What's going on here?" "I think this town's about to start looking like Jehiro City on a good day." "Holy shit. Get in touch with the security. Tell them to start carrying at all times. Actually, tell that to everyone." "You think we're gonna be a target?" "Carlos, we do business with every gang and cartel in this city. Of course we're a target."

"Milo, The news is not good, my friend"

Up in the very private and equally posh V.I.P. section I sighed to myself and kissed the snuggle bunny on the top of her bright gold locks and whispered "Later tidbit." I'll have to remember her, she got up and left with no bickering, no pleading. Definitely Flavor material. Committing her appearance to memory, I eyed Adenksi and frowned as the bunny closed the door behind her.

I shook my head and made sure the sigh was theatrical enough to let him know I'm not pleased "Mano, Dimitri, it's Mano, not some damned wop. Milo!" The last was a growl which carried over to the next "Misnaming death is a baad thing" I warned him then turned a million watt smile on him, but my eyes had remained empty through out. A minute hand movement in the pocket of my pants off side to him, and down on the dance floor a brief chirrup sounded in Silk’s earbud, as I motion Dimitri to hold his comments until Silk arrives.

Down on the dance floor Silk was about to make an exit anyway. Pretty as a pony he might be, but he was also as dumb as one. No, that was unfair to horses who could be very intelligent. Dumb as a brick and not near as useful. Silk thought to herself, and with one last toss of her tumbling brunette locks she spun away, eeling her way through the gyrating crowd as agilely as a mamba. At an light trot - she's very adept at the esoteric art of running in four inch spike heels- she headed up the stairs and was through the private suite's door before the joi boi fully realized she was gone.

"Problemo Bro?"

Silk's dark honey voice with it's vague, fake Mexicano accent makes me smile and I nod towards the hulking Kulkovian. I am slowly coming to trust him, he has been reliable and hard working so far, and far smarter than his looks might make one think - so I give his words the gravity they deserve. "Dimitri says we have bad news"

With the attacks on Lou's passengers and the rumors of a major cartel war spreading, the security personnel at Lou's office and villa were now carrying heavy. The guards were now sporting TEC-9 submachine guns, Uzis, Raging Bull magnum revolvers and Glocks, instead of .22s and Tasers.

OOC: Pronouncing his name was a mistake on my part, sorry.

Adenski took a seat in one of the leather seats. He spared no expense in making the nightclub one of the most prosperous clubs on aterview Blvd. He was an agressive businessman, even owned another motel, not the Waterside Motel, but another one right next door. He was also in the plans in buying out a restaurant owned by a manager who couldn't quite hack it and was about to go belly up and would take whatever offer was on the table. They were scheduled to sign the lease next week and dust away other formalities. Business here in New Verona was very good to him, and he intended to keep it that way.

He smoothed out his tie, "Lobo called me a few minutes ago, he took care of our little problem. It seems that Rico was snitching for the cops. Luckily, this was discovered before your men went to the droo off point. The shipment was one seized by DEA and NVPD last week and Rico was tasked to sell it to us. But I paid his guy better than the cops paid Rico, so now Rico is gator food" Adenski cleared his throat, "The problem now is the cops are beginning to puff out their chests, not to mention the Trujilo Mafia still feels as though it owns this city"

Meanwhile, the blue panel truck exited it's long time parking space and coasted with the rest of the late night traffic, melting into the lanes like any other vehicle on the prowl. Sean witnessed it leave and decided to cut through a back alley, lighting a cigarette and frequently looking over his shoulder. Smantha Smith gave him a fright, but she wouldn't breeze through unnoticed from now on. He walked the length of the back alley, a seedier looking spot, with sparce lights and all the club music at a muffle. There was a couple havin a hot make-out session but they did not noticed, or didn't care about Mercer's presence as he awkwardly slipped past them.

After so many yards the panel truck blocked the end of the alley and the door slid open, Sean made another look around and popped into the truck. Marcus drove off as Daniels slid open the slot from the passenger's seat.

"Have a nice night, Mercer?" Daniels asked, cracking a smile

Mercer laughed, "You wouldn't believe"

"I'm sure it was an informative night, what's with this mystery woman?" Greene inquired, turning left off of Waterside Boulevard.

"Hell if I know" Mercer admitted, "She never quite told me who she was, just someone with an extended layover in New Verona"

"How extended?"

"Two three days max" Mercer replied, "But that doesn't sound right to me, that's too long"

"Do you think she's connected to Adenski?" Daniels asked, taking a sip of profoundly strong and bad coffee.

"Probably not, but who knows what that Kulikovian bastard has up his sleeves" Mercer replied, he jotted down his mental notes on Samantha's features, possible age, height, hair, eyes, everything he could remember, "We should get some eyes from the airport"

"I have a buddy who works at security there, I'll call him in a bit" Greene suggested. Greene was a veteran of the force, a good cop with a descent record. Mercer respected him and his views.

Sam glanced over her shoulder, half expecting to see Tyler and ready to ask, 'Did you think I was lying?' Or, 'Would I lie to you?' No, 'Did you think I was lying?' was better. But there was no need for the rehearsed speech. There was nobody there.

She opened one of the many pockets in her combat pants and pulled out a mylar emergency blanket, once again cursing the cold. She would have slept outside, worst case scenario on the sidewalk, but she didn't have a pillow in her pants. So she curled up in one of the chairs that seemed unecessarily luxurious for passengers who were bound for cramped airplane seats, she wrapped her crinkly blanket around her and closed her eyes.

Then she opened them again to look up at the clock. She remembered the old Fatatatutian joke about turning the clocks off at night to save electricity, but this one was running. Six hours until the Burger King opened. And if she couldn't last that long, there was a vending machine across the way with all manner of exotic delicacies with their goodness locked in to last forever. And if she couldn't bear to leave the comfort of her bed, there was a granola bar in another pocket.

She closed her eyes again, thinking that this wasn't the worst airport she'd ever spent the night in. The bathrooms were clean. The coffee in the machine wasn't much worse than in the Clear Owl, Blue Duck? whatever the name of the place was where she had been that evening. The security guards were sweet-talkable. She snuggled deeper in her chair and went to sleep.

Greene placed a call to the Verona International Airport's TSA front desk and asked to speak with a Will Riley, a retired cop who now manages security at the airport. The two were once partners, Riley being senior to Greene at the time. Three years ago he put in his papers and retired but felt the need to keep working. He perfered the airport job because he was the boss, and hardly anything happened. Greene filled him in on a person of interest. Riley offered to red flag her boarding pass whenever it popped up in the next few days but discretion was the name of the game. He gave a full description of the woman and the name. Riley lumbered over to his desk, he gained a beer gut while on the force and it never quite went away and goes with him wherever he goes, a lingering affect of bad habits.

The name did pop up on an inbound flight which arrived a day prior from the country of Fatatatutti. Everything checked out. He followed up with a backrounds check and once again, it all seemed legit to the beholder. Riley called back with the information as the panel van pulled into a building, a few lots down from the 25th Precinct being used by the narcotics division, an old store since closed.

Mercer removed his jacket and slumped into the chair, his mind was consumed by this Samantha Smith. He listened to Greene relay the information.

"Does he have eyes on her?" Mercer inquired. Riley had taken a stroll down the terminals, as part of his routine checks. The airport at this hour was almost deserted, a flight of unlucky tourists, weary from their stay were stranded in Terminal B. All the shops in the Air Mall were closed for the nite and only the occasional maintenance man or cleaning lady hard at work were on the move. Riley passed by and noticed a woman matching her description, she was sleeping soundly, stretched over some chairs.

A few minutes later he stole himself away and reported back that he did have eyes on her.

"What do you think we should do?" Daniels inquired, pouring another cup of sludge.

"Keep tabs on her, naturally" Greene replied. They were the only three working that night, their small unit consisted of only two other individuals but they were out for the night. The investigation was going nowhere and they wondered if this was merely a wild goose chase.

Mercer sat in the corner at his desk, it overflowed with paperwork he feared to even touch and quickly diverted eyes away from, "I guess I can make my way down there at some point"

'That's a dumb idea" Daniels interjected, "Then she'll think she's being tracked and whatever she is or whoever she's with will get spooked"

"True, but I don't think she's anything that could compromise or investigation anyways" Mercer retorted, curiousity was getting the better of him, "Gie Mr.Riley my cell phone number and whenever she leaves the airport, to give me a call or whatever" he suggested.

Greene rolled his eyes but agreed.

OOC: Not offended, just playing off of it

"The problem now is the cops are beginning to puff out their chests, not to mention the Trujilo Mafia still feels as though it owns this city"

I bared my teeth slightly, charitably it might be called a smile, but not by any in this room, my sister knew me and Dimitri had similar 'smiles' in his arsenal.

"I knew the DEA intercepted it, they were meant too. That shipment was but a minor diversion while the real shipment slipped past them. The True Losers will feel the heat now though, when we sell at a price they can not afford to match.” I paused for a second then continued “That restaurant you are closing on? Here use this to cover anything needed to upgrade it into something nice if the location is good for that" I brought out a bearer bond with the amount of 50 K embossed on it, and signed it with a flourish before handing it to him.

"Tell Lobo well done, and have him contact Silk in the morning."

"Si, have him see me at the villa, midmorning. He will be rewarded then and I will have more work for him" Silk said happily. She handled the security end of the organization and had earned the frightful reputation she had- that of an arctic cold and inventive killer. But she only killed those that deserved it.

“We will leave the police several things that will not only have them chasing their tails and shadows but implicated and harass the Trujilo also. We will confound our enemies and make a profit as well.

I stood and Silk slipped her arm in mine. "Are there any other questions or concerns Dimitri?"

Adenski couldn't help but smile, he bet on the right horse. The two's brains were only matched by their ambition and ruthlessness. They truly were Los Dos Muertes, the Two Deaths, "Thank you, Mano" Adenski said, slipping the bonds into his inner coat pocket, "And no, there's nothing more that needs be discussed, I'll pass the word to Lobo"

With that said, Adenski exited the VIP Lounge and produced his cellphone, it was early in the morning and the club was shwoing signs of stagnating but there was still a healthy crowd of partiers. He contacted Lobo whom seemed only too eager to meet with Silk again.

At the detail's base of operations, each of the detectives decided that they had had enough of galavanting around Waterview for the night. Daniels had to get back to his wife, much to his dismay and Greene went home to whatever it was he had there waiting for him. Mercer walked out onto the lot to his black 1972 GTO. It was his Black Beauty, a labor of love as one would put it. He poured countless hours into restoring it after he found it, abandoned and rusted out in an empty lot in some ass end of the city. It was his pride. He slid in, turned the ignition, and it roared to life. You just couldnt beat old fashioned American Muscle. He didn't care for exports or Rice Burner cars, they were too high pitched and annoying, this was beautiful, powerful, and his.

He tore through traffic in the early hours as the sun struggled over the beautiful horizon. ight now there were romantic couples sitting side by side on the beach watching ths unrose, cuddling one another, pouring their feelings out like the ocean. But that wasn't his scene as he passed over the St.Ezekiel Bridge over the wide bay to King's Grove. King's Grove was located on the other side of the bay, a nice scenic place to live. His house was by the marina and he owned a boat which he would take out on the regular to wherever his heart desired, cast a line, and open a beer. He rarely caught anything, but that wasn't even the point of fishing in his mind, it was the relaxation and solitude the sea brought. One could see how this attracted so many people to this era, to this city.

The door opened and Mercer quickly found himself upstairs and almost instantly passed out as his head touched the pillow...

The Full House is a strip club that was run and controlled by the Voloian Mob. It was namely the Maranzino Crime Family that was based in Western Voloia. The people who were currently running this shady establishment were originally from Boston but they had been sent down to oversee the Don’s interests in the area. The Full House was on 8th street in downtown New Verona. The Full House also had an on the down low reputation for prostituting its girls to the highest bidder. It was all a matter of talking to the right people and buying the right drinks at the right times..



Bruno Barlucchi sat back in his favorite leather arm chair and watched his favorite girls dancing on the stage floor bellow his upper level office that overlooked the bar and the dance hall. The girls ranged from ages 18-24 and all of them were family controlled girls that were either desperate to get their next fix or needed the money to feed their babies back home.

Bruno watched them in his usual way of eyeing them up and deciding which one he was going to have come up to his office for his personal enjoyment when all of a sudden a familiar figure walked into the Full House from the main entrance and headed toward the stairs seeking to get to Bruno’s office.


Bruno sighed and realized it was Carlitto one of his dealers on the street. The young crack dealer had just been bailed after he got pinched by New Verona’s finest. Bruno looked at the time and realized that something was off Carlitto looked way too frightened and hesitant as he headed up the stairs. The local investigators might have tried to cut him a deal in exchange for information on the Voloian mob’s activities around the area.

It did not help that Bruno and his associates were trying to lay low in Kulikovia after their massive extortion ring was busted by the Feds and Staties back in the States. The last thing they needed was the local authorities’ attention on their underground drug running ring and prostitution racket in the club.

Vinny, Bruno’s cousin and personal hit man watched Carlitto walk up the stairs up to the office. It was no secret that Carlitto had been bailed and picked up by several of Bruno’s associates outside of the police station which he had been inside for roughly three hours after bail being posted…

Jack Connelly, Bruno’s bodyguard and head bouncer was right behind Carlitto and had his right hand on Carlitto’s arm forcing him up the steps. The music was loud and booming and the lights were flashy and dark allowing the scene to continue with very few people noticing the bruises, black eye, and bloody nose on Carlitto’s face.

It was obvious the Maranzinos were not happy with Carlitto and that he had been picked up to explain himself before receiving sentence from his direct superior Bruno himself. The only made guy in the Voloian mob in this city. This gave Bruno a lot of prestige and power among his underlings but did not give him additional muscle or protection that more that higher elements of the Voloian mob usually enjoyed. It made little difference in this place Bruno had all the powers of a small time mob boss except the ability to carry the title of Don or Captain himself. This was a situation he planned to change once he got the right connections to establish himself as Don of all New Verona.


Bruno was simply considered the local boss of the area nothing more nothing less. He had to kick up about roughly 50,000 USD every month to his Capo in Boston to enjoy his exclusive rights to this city and to keep rival Voloian mob families out such as the Garazonis and the Ludovesses.


Bruno watched as Carlitto was thrown to the floor of his hard wood floor of his office. He smiled a lit up a Cuban cigar and said, “Carlitto, I heard that you were trying to avoid us when we picked you up outside of the police station. I would like to explain yourself for this unusual change in behavior.”

Carlitto stumbled and fumbled with his response, “I… aaah.. I was scared that you were angry about me getting pinched by the cops was all..”

Bruno smiled and said sweetly, “Carlitto, I would not be angry about such a minor thing as that. I am more concerned about your welfare and how your welfare affects my money and time..”

Bruno blew some smoke at Carlitto and added darkly, “I am disappointed, I personally think you flipped to save your own skin and now you are trying to avoid my wraith!”

Carlitto merely replied as meaningfully possible, “I didn’t say anything boss, I merely mentioned that I was working for some gang down along the docks. I mean nobody would think that I was connected to the Voloian mob and all…”

Bruno sighed and said, “In this business one must be cautious and you have become a liability in the eyes of both me and my direct superiors back home in the old country. I don’t care if the Grand Prince of Voloia himself said you were under his protection. The Dons would see you dead within a week of such a boast!”

Carlitto nodded his head solemnly and asked, “What can I do to earn your protection again?”

Bruno laughed and said, “I think the time for that is over! Jackie Boy, make sure this vermin has been dealt with properly.”

Carlitto cried, “Please my mother!”

Bruno laughed and said, “Your mother was just another crack hoar on the streets of New Verona…”

Jack and two other bouncers grasped Carlitto by the neck and throat and dragged him from the office. Carlitto could be seen being taken to the back of the club towards the alley. He would be beaten in typical fashion and promptly left with a bullet in the back of his head.

His corpse would then be placed in a trunk of a stolen car and left in a parking lot by the beach…

OOC: Just for your info, this rp does not actually take place in Kulikovia. No one worry about where New Verona is, it's just it's own thing.

The buzzer to the alarm sounded like a high pitched pig being stabbed to death right in his cranium. Mercer fumbled blindly with his hand and eventually succeeded in knocking the alarm off the nightstand and onto the floor. It clacked and finally stopped that wretched buzzing. He reluctantly sat up in his bed, perhaps he drank more than he realized last night. The clock, at its' new residence said something about 10:00 or so. His shift didn't start till the nighttime so this was a welcome sight. The apartment was quiet now, the shades weren't drawn closed so all of the morning's sun was right on his face. He cursed the sun, Red Bull vodka, and Dimitri Adenski in the same utterance.

After managing to the shower and dressing himself he trudged downstairs to the kitchen and rummaged for some food, he hadn't gone shopping in a week and his supplies were dwindling, he wondered if he might need to go fishing to get some food.

Elsewhere, Lobo exited his house in Overtown, a predominately Latino neighborhood. He stepped into a shiny red El Camino. He had plenty of money saved from his work but liked to play it down, keep himself off the radar. He was off to see Silk about more work.

“Oh and Dimitri, before you go” Mano stopped the Kulikovan for a moment “The Full House, strip joint run by the Maranzino Family.” Mano waited until Dinitri nodded that he indeed knew the place “Burn it down. It’s not classy enough. Make Vinny- the-hit-man responsible.” It was just terrible when one found one couldn’t even trust family. Bruno Barlucchi would be forced to off his own cousin. Mano pulled out another bearer bond, in a heavy embossed envelope. It was already signed and it was for rather much more than fifty large; but then again he knew that Adenski would hire reputable pros and those, quite rightly cost more.

Later…

Ayvan Al Maut, Mano’s and Silks little estate…

Silk might have not fallen asleep until close to dawn, but by seven she was finishing her daily ten mile run, her equally fit body guards in step. The morning run along the beach, the eastern perimeter of the property then into the heavily wooded landward side, as habit as would be her diving in to the Olympic sized pool, the one closest to the main mansion to finish her workout off.

The mansion was a massive pile of a building, without any of the Mediterranean feeling most other large residences in the area fell prey to. The many leveled maze covered over fifty thousand square feet, and as she understood it housed thirty large bedroom suites, thirty full baths and ten half baths, two kitchens, two libraries, a club room, a club with sound studio, two full gyms, a sale, and armory and underground pistol range, a five lane bowling alley, three indoor pools, six saunas and two theaters, besides the four master suites. That interested Silk only in that it meant she could have more of her personal army on the property, but she knew every inch of the main building like the back of her hand, and required all of her security personell to be equally knowledgeable. There were also two smaller mansions – mere ten thousand square feet ‘pittances’ on the fifty five acres- Mano and Silk liked their privacy - and she knew them almost as well. Her brother needed the twelve car master garage, and each of the pittances had six car garages filled with the other vehicles used by Los Dos Muertes

As she finished the run she stopped at a poolside table, and stripped off the tee and shorts, revealing a fairly minimal bikini beneath. “Breakfast in thirty” She ordered to the house staffer at hand as she zipped across the white marble surround to div neatly into the pool and began powering her way down it’s length in an athletic Australian crawl. Some of the pack of guards hustled after her, dropping a wide array of serious firepower on other tables, others adjourned to the gym, or the armory in preparation for time on the range.

Breakfast would be large- grapefruit, crisp fluffy waffles, omelets, thick custom smoked bacon, fresh baked breads and biscuits – the chef adored his relatively easy to please bosses and high paying job. His private suite, personal office and well trained staff were added bonuses. Silk and Mano wanted good tasting, healthy food, neither had food allergies or picky palates - they didn’t much care for exotic or hard to acquire food ‘trophies’.

Lobo would find himself stopped and verified at the heavily, but very discretely gated entry, even if he was just about Silks favorite enforcer. It wasn’t meant as any sort of insult, Lobo knew how she felt about security. The on duty guards knew to expect him and would call up to the house as he passed through the gates. A mid morning snack of his favorites would be waiting for him when he joined Silk.

Arriving at the scene, McDulny and Abraham managed to find only a few patrolmen and a few gathered spectators. They got through and down to where the water lapped against the slope of the tough, swampy grass and started looking over the scene. The body was in pretty bad shape, and had likely been pulled up further when it was first noticed. The whole scene had yet to attract too many gawkers, which they were both thankful for.

While waiting for CSU to show up at the new scene, Jimmy started talking to the owner of the property and her neighbors. He didn’t get too much from them. The body had washed up about half an hour ago, nobody knew the person, nobody close by was reported missing or had a beef with anybody (this last part was always worth confirming), and that it was a generally good neighborhood, etc. Procedure, procedure, procedure.

Eventually, CSU did show up, and started the processing. There wasn’t much, mostly collecting water and soil samples from where the body was dragged up, photographs of the body, and the request for the people that had found the body to have their prints taken for elimination. Granted, they could also be used if one of the ‘discoverers’ was actually the dirtbag that had done the deed, but Jimmy was willing to bet against that. For one, the body was in bad shape, the looks of torture before murder. Which meant that the scum that had dropped the body would get the needle if prosecuted. Such was life.

“Yo Jimmy, we got press.” Which was true. The local stations, and what appeared to be the local rag, had all sent somebody. It was to be expected. Beat up bodies that washed up on somebody’s lawn late at night were great for the morning news. It happened for those that had canal access, but it didn’t change the perception of its news-worthiness. Styles decided to do his thing. With plenty of style. Two weeks working together and Jimmy had known the reason behind the nickname.

“Ladies and gentlemen, good evening. My name is Detective Abraham. Now, before any questions, I would like to point out that as of yet, we have not determined the identity of the deceased, and we will be working full time to ensure that the family is notified. We do not know cause of death, but will be making as much information available to you as soon as we have it. Now, I’d like you all to take a moment and think about how you would feel if one of your relatives was found in such a manner, and allow us to do our jobs and bring closure to the family.”

“Detective, what do you know so far.”

“All we know is that a deceased body was recovered earlier this evening from the canal. We do have our crime scene technicians on scene, and will be doing full canvassing as more evidence comes to light.”

“What can you tell us about the body? Was it unique or mutilated in any way?”

“I’m sorry,” said Styles. “I have no comment on that, I must allow the coroner’s office to do their work without causing them any more disruption. Thank you.”

As soon as the body was off to the morgue, Chester drove back to the precinct, where preliminary paperwork was the order of the hour. That hour was all it took before the night staff at the M.E.’s office called them up and the captain sent them to find out what the docs had. It wasn’t good news.

“Your body’s been tortured, c.o.d. was a close range gunshot to the head. We’ve got fingerprints running through the database, so if he’s in the system we should get an identification. If that doesn’t work, I’ll run dental, though he’s missing teeth.” Luckily, the machine beeped, the indication that they had a match. “Well, he’s in the system. Let’s see, our boy is…oh God.”

The screen showed the reason. Jimmy looked at Styles, then at the body cooling on the table. “Did we officially take this case?” he asked.

“Yes. I already submitted the paperwork, and besides, Ricky was in our precinct. This one is ours. I’ll call the captain.” Chester removed himself to make the call to their captain. “Captain, it’s Abraham. We’ve got the i.d. on the body we recovered. It’s Ricky. He didn’t fall into a hole, he was murdered.” When he came back, he was already taking his shield and flipping the black band at the middle to the outside. James had done the same. Somebody had killed a cop. Somebody would have to pay. “This case is ours,” said Chester. “Let’s go catch this bastard.”

A smoky night at the Island Club, one of the quieter, less glitzy establishments in Verona. Perhaps it suited the owner's temperament, but the Island was better suited to a relaxed night out than an all-night rave. And drugs were rarely in evidence; management gently frowned on them, and few indiscreet users made it past the door.

Discretion was an important quality, after all. And the nuts and bolts of business happened elsewhere. And then of course, just because there was money in a business didn't mean you wanted the washed-up byproducts of your fortune slumming around and ruining the atmosphere. God knows you wouldn't want to associate with half the people who bought your product...

It was a small room behind the staff-only door, above the kitchens and out of everyone's way. The smoke was coming from here, curling out from around the half-open door, hanging around the head of the young Greek lounging outside, giving him the appearance of some curly-haired cloudy apparition.

Inside, Loukas flipped his phone closed with an unpleasant grimace.

"It's the same old, Dimitris."

"More cartel infighting?" The other man exhaled a long stream of smoke, making absolutely no difference to the haze that blanketed the room inside.

Louie nodded.

"Shooting each other and stopping each other's shipments. If they could keep off each other's throats for a few years we could put the cops straight out of business and make everyone's life a little easier..."

"...but now there's gonna be bodies turning up and cops sniffing along behind?" Dimitris finished the sentence. Louie shook his head.

"The bodies are here already and the cops are turning up too. We're gonna have to take it a little quieter for a little while. I don't want any attention from the cops, and sure as hell I don't want any from the damn cartels..."

"Yeah, that's the size of business these days..."

"These days." Louie agreed. "I need you to call Lou Waters for me, by the way. Word is he's been holing up at home instead of out moving stuff around, remind him that he owes me a shipment. Friendly now, no point making business any worse than it has to be."

"Said and done, Louie. First thing in the morning."

Louie nodded, and waved his hand in dismissal.

"That's all, don't let me keep you any longer. Say hello to Lou for me too. You eaten?"

"Not since lunch, Louie."

"Dinner's on me, then. Come on downstairs."

The two left a swirling wake in the smoke as they stood to leave; the young Greek standing bored outside yawned, and tramped down the stairs behind them.

Bruno Barlucchi sat at his office and smoked his cigar thinking about his associate that had just been whacked for a mere sign of talking to the police. He realized that he had to tread carefully about this incident considering the body was still rotting in the trunk of an old beat up, 1970 black charger that had been left in a parking lot near the western beach area.


Bruno continued to smoke and finally had Vinny brought before him for a job. Bruno smiled in his typical fashion as Vinny was brought before him by Jack Connelly himself.

It was a matter of business and the experienced mobster needed to keep it secret. He ordered Jack the only non Voloian to leave the room as the contract was put before his cousin. Jack Connelly nodded and left wordlessly in his black leather jacket. He was wearing his cobra sunglasses and had on blue jeans and his standard white tee shirt under his jacket.

Vinny came up in his typical attire of work, He had a white polo shirt wearing black shaded sunglasses and his hair was slicked back. He had on his usual white gloves and white slacks with white dress shoes. He also had his 9mm Berretta in a holster under his bartender jacket.


Vinny nodded before his cousin and said slowly, “You gotta job for me cousin?”

Bruno answered in his usual way, “Yeah, I have been thinking that we haven’t had any problems with our operation since we started moving our operations deeper into New Verona. We use to keep our stuff on the down low on the outskirts of town but we have been moving up in the world it seems. I want you to find out who set up Carlitto to be pinched and deal with them appropriately.

Carlitto was smart enough not to attract attention, I think someone snitched him out and that person is either a loud mouth rat or a fu-k-n competitor seeking to wreck our drug smuggling operation in New Verona. I have a contract set up for 10,000 dollars, you will as standard practice receive half now and half when you have completed the job, cephe..”

Vinny nodded at his cousin and replied, “I get the point, you want me to eliminate the threat to our family, if it is a rival but if it’s a witness you want me to send a message in the form of Teflon in the head and chest?”

Bruno smiled at his favorite cousin and said, “Si,” Bruno then promptly picked up a black leather suitcase that was right next to him and put it on the table.

Vinny nodded his agreement and griped the suitcase that contained his first 5,000 in cold hard cash and walked out of the Office with a new mission. He was going to the streets to get some info on the situation and then make a decision on who had to die…

Sam opened her eyes to see a small boy just centimeters from her face.

"Hi," he said.

"Good morning."

"Is that your hair?"

Sam hesitated. "Am I wearing pants?"

"Yes."

"Then yes, that's my hair."

"Mommy says your hair isn't real."

"Well, you should always believe your mommy. Never trust the crazy lady in the airport."

A scowling woman grabbed the little boy by the hand and dragged him away.

Sam sat up. She folded her mylar blanket neatly and noisily and stuffed it into one of the pockets in her cargo pants. She ran her fingers through her short red hair as she looked around the airport lounge. There were people milling around aimlessly, like people do in an airport. People have no patience, she told herself. Always in a hurry.

She stood up and started toward the information desk to find a security guard. If they wouldn't come to her, she'd go to them.

Riley eyed the clock nervously, he was eager for the on coming shift supervisor to show up so he could do a brief but informative turn-over and go home for some sleep. Traffic through the checkpoint at bagage began to multiply slowly but steadily, he knew it would only increase by the hour and hoped to be long gone before that.

He spun from side to side in the chair as a woman, the one matching the description Greene gave him earlier last night. He smoothed his tie and gave a broad smile, "How may I help you, ma'am?"

"These days." Louie agreed. "I need you to call Lou Waters for me, by the way. Word is he's been holing up at home instead of out moving stuff around, remind him that he owes me a shipment. Friendly now, no point making business any worse than it has to be."

"Said and done, Louie. First thing in the morning."

Louie nodded, and waved his hand in dismissal.

"That's all, don't let me keep you any longer. Say hello to Lou for me too.

The call from Dimitris was expected. "Listen, I'll get your shipment to ya. I just needed a bit of time, cartel war means a lot of spillover and I gotta make sure my boys are ready. Anyway, just give me the when and where and it'll be there, guaranteed. Oh, and give Louie my regards."

"Business is business Lou, but I understand where you're coming from. They cause trouble for us all. Tomorrow morning, nine AM if you can, Friday same time otherwise. The usual place.* Take care of yourself now, and Louie sends his regards to you too."

ooc: a house in the classier end of the Greek neighborhood, rented by Dimitris from one Kostas Nikarios

"Business is business Lou, but I understand where you're coming from. They cause trouble for us all. Tomorrow morning, nine AM if you can, Friday same time otherwise. The usual place.* Take care of yourself now, and Louie sends his regards to you too."

ooc: a house in the classier end of the Greek neighborhood, rented by Dimitris from one Kostas Nikarios

"OK."

OOC-I am going to off for a long time, so this part of the RP is going to have to temporarily die. But I'll be back

At the exact moment Mercer opened his garage door, the sunlight casting over the sleak hood of his GTO, the phone rang. He already knew what kind of business was on the other end but picked it up regardless.

"Hello?...When?...Fuck, I was just a block away last night, do you know anymore...Okay, I'll be there in a few...What?...I understand" The phone conversation with Lt.Warwick ended abruptly. The cleaning lady of the Waterview Motel discovered a scene straight out of Scarface. The responding detectives watched security surveillance footage from a gas station across the street and spotted a white Ford Ranger pull into the motel. Witness statements came back engative. They got the tags for the truck and tracked it down to a parking lot near the Okal Glades Reserve, a charred hunk of metal. Nearby the CSU dicovered a partially digested left foot belonging to a Hispanic male in his early thirties.

A DNA test came back on one Rico Calderon. Mercer knew Rico quite well. Rico was a small time dealer from West Versailles. He was busted by Mercer after selling him an ounce of heroine. But instead of sending Rico down the pipe and into prison, Mercer found other uses for him. He turned out to be a very reliable informant and helped Mercer numerous times and assisted in closing six cases, ten drug busts, and led to the apprehension of a gang member responsible for killing a rival dealer's family. This time, Rico was being used for an even riskier scheme. The NVPD seized a shipment a few weeks ago and attempted to sell it back to Los dos Muertes, from what Mercer just found out, the whole deal went south and now Rico Calderon is dead.

The Los Dos Muertes were for the lack of a better word, a mystery. At first they appeared to be just another street gang, trying to make a name for killing rival dealers and hostile takeovers of certain apartment complexes and other key areas. But over the past year, they steadily climbed the ladder and beame more and more vicious. The only substantial lead on any high ranking member of the gang came from Rico. The man he claimed to be the leader was a psyochopath by the name of Antonio "Lobo" Santos. Mercer voiced his doubts about him being the boss. Lobo was a mad dog, nothing more. Someone had to be holding the leash but there was nothing that led to anyone else. They suspected Dimitri Adenski of having dealings with Los Dos Muertes but so far, their investigation is stagnating.

Before Mercer could slide into his car and head out to the Precinct, another car pulledd in front. Frank Dawson, his partner emerged, removing his sunglasses, his eyes were stark and serious.

"Don't head out, Sean" Dawson said as he walked up, "The Lieutenant doesn't want us within five miles of the crime scene"

Mercer stepped out of the car, looking confused, "Why's that?"

"We're going to meet with him and Lt.Hugo from undercover tonight" Dawson continued, "Looks like you and me got the golden ticket"

"Undercover?" Mercer inquired, "They want us to go undercover?"

Dawson nodded cooly, "Looks like the traditional routes of flushing these guys from the shadows aren't working. Now we have to go in and get them"


Meanwhile, Adenski made some phone calls from his house in Yarborough, it was right along the beahc, just north of the city limits. He knew that the cops were on his trail but they were incompetent and easily outwitted. He used a cellphone that he never took out of his house and kept in a safe under the carpet of the closet in his bedroom. He suspected the lines were tapped and possibly a bug or two in the house. He went into the lounge where he had a rather expensive entertainment center. Adenski cranked up some opera music and made some calls on the cellphone. The first one was to Lobo who was just at the gates to Silk's home, informing him of some work. Then, the second was to an accountant who handled Club Fever's books, everything was in order. He also called another man, someone who's skills were very handy for the work ahead, his name was Gerard Sandeau. he was perfect for what Adenski was tasked for.

"Ayvan Al Maut. So this is it? It's not as big as I was expecting."

There was no one there as I spoke, but talking to myself was something I often to alleviate the boredom of a job and, to be frank, words sound better when they're better in the open rather than being stored away in your mind, rotting in your memory. If someone heard me, then all the better but it was not my way to keep those kind of things bottled up. Now I was sitting here, in the wonderful morning Verona sunshine, watching this pair go about their daily business. The roof was dowan on my convertible sports car and, needless to say, even in this early stage of morning, it was still cheerfully warm. I enjoyed heat as much as the next person, but morning was always such a gentle warmth. I always got up to watch the sunrise, usually cleaning some of my 'babies' while I was at it.

Now though, I had another job to do. Someone had marked this pair of Siblings as someone to do business with. The person who had demanded it was Johnny Marcello, of the Marcello Crime Family. I had sat in his Office, his front was as a Law Firm that saw thousands of dollars laundered through it every week. The Marcello's thought that their star was on the rise, Johnny told me as much himself. His Family were gaining influence in the City's underworld, their numbers were raising and their holdings increasing day by day.
"Soon," he had said, "we would spread out into the drug inductry, and to do that, this new pair need to be onside. I need their Merchantise."
He showed me a picture, gave me what information he had, and left the rest up to me.
"Remember, the Marcello Family is always open to good people such as yourself." He had winked, slipped a hand into where a man's hand should not be and left me to get on with my new job.

To be honest, I sat there the whole time, legs crossed, focusing on his every word, nodding in the right places, smiling at the right phrases, thinking all the while that I should be nominated for an Academy Award for my performance in that Officer. The whole time, I just wanted to just burst out laughing. With the more words that came out of the Idiot's mouth, the more irresitable the urge came. The Marcello's weren't on the up, I knew the Marcello's weren't on the up. They had one successful Front for laundering money and other that was attempting to print money for use in their three or four pathetically small, grimy betting shops. I had been in one of the shops, seen these notes, and they were terrible. A child could have made a better effort of it. However, I was a professional and thus it was my job to see if this pair would accept the influence of the Marcello's and hand over their shipments for a reasonable price. Biting more than one could chew was an understatement.

Sighing, I slipped my sunglasses on, turned the keys in the ignition and set off, driving up towards the gates of the Estate. This Pair were good, I had followed them long enough to know that. They were very good. Much better than the Marcellos, more dynamic and, more importantly, much, much richer, or at least they would be once those shipments they possessed passed out to the market. The Marcellos would oppose the action, perhaps even try to resist, but their 'Army' was laughable. Johnny had made the classic mistake and gone for the numbers of strong, muscular gunmen, brawn over brain. For enforcing his shops and Debtors, they were excellent, for fighting anything vaguely resembling the big families, they were in trouble. Even the Greeks were above them, and that was saying something in my mind.

I pulled up to the gate and pressed the buzzer there, licking my lips with a smile,
"Hi," I said brightly, "I am here to see Mister Mano on behalf of Marcello and Son's Law Firm." If these two knew what they were about, then the name of the Marcello's should ring a bell, even if a rather vague one.

Gerard Sandeau sat at an outdoor cafe up Waterview Blvd, called The Seagull Cafe. There was a row of about six tables, each with an umbrella to offer shade in the sun. It was sparcely populated at this hour in the late morning. The beach, just across the road was bulging with people, enjoying the ocean, the gentle breeze, and getting some sun. He was in his early forties, handsome enough for his age with just a slight touch of gray, enough to show his experience in this world. He wore sunglasses and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and khaki pants. He was European, but somewhere where the climate was not far different, his skin was tanned, or naturally like that. He ordered a coffee and nothing else as he listened to Adenski, an old friend on the other line give him the details about the Full House, as well as names and such. He cooly wrote down sparce notes on a notepad he had tucked in his sirt pocket and a rather expensive looking fountain pen.

He got off the phone just as the coffee arrived and he took a sip, taking in the aroma and taste of a very well made blend of Colombian. It was a beautiful day out as he dipped down the sunglasses, revealing grayish-blue eyes. Gerard's expertise was one used several times before by Adenski. He wasn't a hitman or an assasin. Gerard was simply a go-to guy, a fixer, someone who did the dirty work in an exceptionally clean way. The two met in Kulikovia, years ago. Since then they'd enjoyed working with one another, Adenski helped him get a summer home here in New Verona. After a few minutes and having finished the coffee, Gerard stood up and walked down the sidewalk to his car, a gray Fiat Coupe 20v-4. The engine roared to life, a sleak European car with a fast engine. He gunned out of the parking space and merged into the sparce traffic. He headed to the address given to him for The Full House. After fifteen minutes he arrived at the corner opposite him and stopped. Seeing it was the afternoon, the club was closed, at least the usual activities were closed. He pulled out a camera and snapped a few shots of the club. He called Adenski back and asked for the address for Vinny as well as several members of the Maranzino Family. He had some contacts who could get him more info and pictures, he didn't feel like doing a stake-out of the place just to get a snapshot of Vinny. After he waited there for a few minutes he shifted gears and drove past the Full House, without a second glance.

An hour later he walked out of the New Verona Zoning Department down in the business District called Graystone District. He bribed the clerk there for a copy of the plans to the Full House, he would head back to his home and do some serious backround checks and comb through the blueprints to the Full House. Gerard Sandeau was a professional in the least sense, and he took that attitude to whatever job he was tasked with.

Lobo pulled up to the outside gate of Mano and Silk's villa. It was a high-end place with a view and everything one might see on television. Lobo didn't care for these things but he could appreciate the prestige they held from first sight. To him, a gun brings power and prestige and can take it away as well. His shiny red El Camino pulled up and stopped behind another car. Silk didn't mention there would be other guests and couldn't help but feel edgy at seeing this. He had a sawed-off in the trunk, a .38 in the glove box. Lobo didn't reach for anything but simply dipped his sunglasses down and observed. He honked the horn to gauge what this woman's reaction might be.

Ayvan Al Maut

The grounds stretched along over a thousand feet of shore line and back from it by another two thousand. Fifty five acres was nothing to sneer at in a city the size of Verona. Location, location location made the land alone worth close to a hundred mil…and Mano had known just who to…leverage to get the whole thing for far less than that.

But then again the mystery murder suicides of the previous owner – he’d killed his wife, adorable teenage daughter, the house keeper, the stable hand, three dogs and two exquisitely bred horses, then tried to burn the place down while putting the murder weapon to his own head. All that marble hadn’t burned at all really; no structural damage was done, just cosmetic. The estate had sat uncleaned, unrepaired – virtually untouched -for nearly two years and the best scenario the inquest could advance was that the owner must have had some failed business dealings that even their best investigators could never discover. Nothing could be further from the truth but the dead tell no tales and even security camera footage can be a lie.

"I am here to see Mister Mano on behalf of Marcello and Son's Law Firm."

“One minute Miss” The security guard called out politely as he got off the interphone from the estates security center. He had been getting confirmation that the newly arrived vehicle, driven by the red haired woman was indeed the one his perimeter cameras had been regularly, of late, been zooming in on as she sat observing the estate and tailing those who came and went. The Kanes knew they had people interested in them, and it was generally too much trouble to shake tails – save when necessary – and not only were the two well enough trained to do so, all their drivers were as well. Training was ongoing and an approved expense.

The street that led past the estates private road was, of course, a public one, but that didn’t mean that discretely – and professionally placed- surveillance devices didn’t cover the road and photograph and video DVD just which vehicles drove along it. The license plates got recorded and researched – it was amazing what monies to the right low paid, data processing clerks did.

Organizations, so often, never noticed that their most supposedly private data was regularly seen by low paid, unappreciated minions who had little to no loyalty to the jobs they toiled at. And what could be found on the web now days by those skilled enough and unscrupulous enough? What should be promoting heart failure in government organizations world wide. Most of those organizations just seemed to shrug their shoulders, knowing that they were always going to be two or three steps behind. But it’s not as if they didn’t give it the old college try – it’s just that most of the really skilled computer wizards liked money and appreciation over ‘the country needs you’. And Mano happily paid for the best, it was an expense he never begrudged.

Mano also saw that those underappreciated employees had every chance to earn some much welcomed pocket money in the most discrete manner possible… An ill relative had their expensive medical treatments covered, a child was successfully enrolled in a pricy but academically top notch academy on an anonymous scholarship , a local dealership made sure that a struggling working mother had an excellent deal on a much needed new vehicle.

One of Manos’ biggest assets was that he truly liked helping people; he was sensitive to their needs… and weaknesses. He had no interest in turning any one into a user or a criminal. If people wanted nothing to do with what he dealt in, that was fine. He wouldn’t try and force you. But if you came in to the game, you were fair game. His mantra was “It’s your life. You don’t want it, fine. You want in, it’s your look out.”

As long as the person was an adult. The one thing he and Silk had as an absolute rule, and they’d killed any of their own people who crossed it as well as any one else who did it that they could get their hands on– underage? No play, no way. Whether it be drugs, weapons, prostitution, what have you.

The armed security guard – though he wore no formal uniform, he moved like some one with extensive military and or police training – it was specifically military police but she wouldn’t know that – left the outer security office adjacent to the gate – which was not directly visible from the public road and smiled down at her, nodding ‘Good morning Ms. Marlow. Mister Kane would be pleased to see a representative of the Marcello Family.’ His smile was knowing, just as his words let her know that they knew who she was and where she came from, but he was polite, not sneering.

As Lobo honked...

“We’ will have an escort for you here in just a moment. You can park right over there.” He nodded to a small cobble paved court off to one side- just barely visible through the gates (http://www.usrgrab.com/passive_barriers/security_fence/images/fence_3.jpg) -which would hold three or four cars comfortably in the cool shade of a huge old oak. As the heavy gates rolled open into the flanking stone work on either side of the entry gates, she could now see what was not visible from the public road.

The area immediately inside the gate was a sophisticated modification of the vehicle trap setup. There was a narrowish driveway leading deeper in to the estate, but there was both a currently dry moat with bridge and a second gate (http://www.atddm.com/gate1.jpg) that would have to be gotten though. Unexpected visitors were required to leave their vehicles in the sally port – the small oak tree shaded cobbled court.

The moat was well landscaped, it looked like a natural streambed with a heavy planked wooden bridge crossing it. However that bridge - which was engineered to specs designed to carry the weight load of a light tank but not it’s bulk. The bridge had built in, well concealed emplaced demolition charges. No one was getting across it – in a vehicle - that wasn’t welcome. And additionally the second gate was also stronger than it looked. That wood façade was backed with steel and opened outward.

He nodded back at Lobo, giving the well kept Camino an admiring glance. Lance, who was the day time senior gate guardian, loved a well kept classic. But he never took all of his attention off of Ms. Marlow – he was too experienced and well trained for that. Additionally all were under the watchful eyes of more concealed security cameras, which had additionally both low light / night and infravision capabilities. And there were several openly visible cameras, not all of which where dummies. The estate had its own generators in case of emergencies, along with many solar panels in the roof tops of the ‘

Once Ms. Marlow had pulled her car aside into the park and killed the ignition, an electric vehicle (http://stores.discovermobility.net/images/Black%20Roadster%20with%20Flames.jpg) in the shape and hue of an old ford roadster rolled through the just opening gate at far end of the bridge and pulled up along side so she could transfer over easily. The inner gate was closed by the time the cart pulled up beside Ms. Marlow’s car. Thus the inner gate was never unsecured – her vehicle or herself afoot would have had to overcome the person in the golf cart before approaching the inner gate.

One the lovely lady was out of the car, Lance waved Lobo on though the court and down the bridge, the inner gate opening only once Lobo’s red Camino was on the bridge.

The young woman (http://www.atddm.com/Ariel.jpg) in the cart gave Ms. Marlow a welcoming smile “Good morning, sorry to make you wait, but if you’ll jump in I’ll escort you to Mr. Kane. I’m Ariel, one of his personal assistants.” She wore a light weight scooped neck grey long sleeved tee and jeans, with tenny sneaks – and just the barest hint of make up.

Lobo knew the way in, and where to park from having been there many a time, and Silk waved to him from where she sat at the umbrella shaded table near the pool. She’d finished her morning work out before he arrived and had wrapped herself in a light cotton kimono. Breakfast was still being served and a empty spot at the table waited for him.

I sat in my car, tapping the side rest patiently while I waited for someone to respond, enjoying the sunshine shining on the back of my neck. The gates looked impressive indeed and I could see enough of the lands to know that however had built this place must have been loaded with more than his fair share of cash. It was something that I both disapproved and envied for. Even on my way here, I drove past Slums and shacks, good honest people trying to dig a living from the filth that was New Verona. I pitied them, these people came from nothing, hoping for a better life and instead found less than nothing. They lived in one roomed houses, worked gutting fish or sweeping the houses of rich Bastards like this and earned next to nothing for their trouble. Sometimes I hated this world, but, at the same time, I wanted it for myself.

It was perhaps something to do with my own past, my mother had come from nothing, the one true Rags-to-riches story this City had ever had. She come from Spain, without a penny to her name but finding that in this country, only money got things done. With a Mother bedridden and needing medication that would keep her alive and no money being gained from her cleaning job at a major Corporation, she decided to look elsewhere. The woman had scrapped together her few savings and bought a derelict office, virtually rebuilding it herself to turn it into a café. No one had thought it would succeed, no one thought that a business run by a non-English speaking woman, especially one so innocent looking and so naïve. Over the course of a year, she had worked nearly eighteen hours in that café, all while caring for an ill mother. It always brings a lump to my throat when I think of Mama working herself almost to death to try and make something of her life and to make that little café make some money, to give me a life better than hers, to give me a leg up.

That had changed when Papa came along. He was a Businessman in the city and he saw the money that could potentially come from Mama’s shop. At first, it was simply business, but the longer they spent together, the more they grew attached to each other and soon they married and I was not long in following. She sold her business for a lot of money and left this Scrapheap of a city for a better life, the Dream finally having been achieved, for a happy ending. If Mama had known what would happen after her death, then she may not have been so happy. I was too young for it. They took it all. Damn Lawyers. Damn Lawmen.

That was the envious part. I shouldn’t have been crawling after snivelling little drips like Johnny Marcello, the fool who thought he was the way up when he was dropping the other way. I could see it, I gritted my teeth at the thought. I was like his damned lapdog, with him holding the leash while I barked obediently. Bastard deserved what he would get, and he would get it soon. I would drive the knife in myself. Et tu? Scarlet?

I snapped back to it as I saw some jerk honking in a car behind me, some Git who thought that he owned the world, that he was so important and that what news he carried would break the very fabric of the city. He was the sort of guy I so despised. My blood flared up in anger even looking at the car he travelled in. I knew he’d bought it to look cool. My car, a red 1955 Thunderbird convertible, had been a present from Papa, the last thing he ever bought me and the only thing those Vultures left me with. I drove it to honour him and to remind myself of what I had to do in my life. My new life goal.

I flashed a smile as the Security Guard instructed me as to where to go. I flashed a smile at him, taking note of the stance and general way he carried himself. He was too uptight to be an ex-cop and there was no way these guys would be stupid enough to hire a mere thug. So he was military. I wondered again what kind of money these people had and why Johnny thought they would ever want to submit to the New Verona version of Mussolini’s Italy, one little guy with too much ambition in a world of big players. But this was what I had been hoping for. This was my big break. Even the mention of the Marcello’s did not concern me. These people did their homework. I expected as much. I checked my mirror again, slammed the car into reverse and hit a couple of pedals almost simultaneously. The result being that my car jumped backwards towards his, just missing the front bumper of his car. I slipped my car into first and rolled forwards into the spot he suggested.

I was very much impressed with both the security and the level of preparation that had been made to this place. It may have looked like a palace but under the paint it was a fort. Anyone trying to get into it would have their work cut out indeed. I parked in the shade, enjoying the cool for a moment before a woman introduced herself as his Personal Assistant. I narrowed my eyes even as I smiled keenly and accepted the seat next to her. I wasn’t going to believe for a moment that this woman was just a PA, this guy was too full of tricks to just have PA’s. Then again, perhaps my cynical nature was winning through.

“Thank you,” I said, pushing a little of my glistening red hair out of the way. Sometimes I liked it when it flowed around my face, in times like this, it was annoying.
“I shall look forward to meeting him.”

Lobo wrapped his scarred hands around the wheel tight, almost ready to break it in half. His nostrils flared but he managed to keep his cool, an achivement for someone noted for being short tempered, putting it mildly. This was not the place to start an incident. The Mano's prided themselves on working from the shadows, pulling the strings from behind the stage. Adenski was a front man and business associate. But the Mano's played differently and to this end he could respect it. Lobo tipped his sunglasses back up, grumbled and followed the security guard through the array of security layers set around the compound. It was a beautiful, scenic place. Far far away from the violence and fast-paced life in New Verona.

He rounded around the pool, nodding to Silk. He looked down at the mirror fla pool and saw his reflection. Lobo took the empty seat and leaned back in the chair, his head shifting from side to side, "Buenos Dias, Senorita Mano" Lobo said.

"Buenos Dias, Senorita Mano"

"Buenos Dias, Lobo, sit, sit..."

Silks smile was cool, as Lobo seated himself. There was a reason that while he was a favorite hitter, he might never rise any further "It's Ms Kane, Lobo, Mano is my brother and that's his first name" She murmured under her breath as she took a sip from the demitasse of coffee before her.

"Now to get down to business' Her tone was brisk as the waitstaff brought Lobo his known favorites in the way of light eating and drink.

"I want a small, but discrete lesson taught to Hosokawa Clan. Leave Daisuke Nagasaka out of it ,but make it clear that we are not to be" and her large, doe like eyes met his, held them - and they were as empty as the sharks her brother was named for - "fucked with." The vulgarity rolled off the seductive lips in a face of a too knowing angel...In tones that would not have melted butter.

She took a small sip of coffee. She wouldn't micro manage him, he was trustworthy and inventive. He'd make sure that what ever happened would point to some one other than the LDM, she'd never had to remind him of that. From the pocket of her cotton kimono she slid a packet. It was filled with used, unmarked, non sequential bills to the tune of ten thousand dollars, and it was a small token of appreciation for Lobo.

She looked him over - a long appraising up and down - and smiled, the tip of her tongue just drifting along her upper lip. "Care to do some sparring?" She practiced MMA, and was better than average at it. There was an enticing and yet dangerous glint in her eyes.

Elsewhere on the vast estate.

“I shall look forward to meeting him.”

Ariel just smiled and when Scarlett got in decorously drove the electric car over the moat and thought the woods to the great sprawling house, and parked it under the portico. "He's up on the roof over look having breakfast, if you will come with me"

The house (http://www.atddm.com/almt.jpg) was bigger than some hotels and was comprised of many levels. Ariel led the way to the nearest of several discretely placed, and semi concealed, elevators. It took the pair quickly to the wide French doors that led to the roof top overlook. It faced north, away from the ocean, but had an excellent view of the inner woods of the estate.

There was a single marble topped wrought iron round table sheltered under a large outdoors umbrella. Four chairs with tropical palm print cushions, three of which were unoccupied, were spaced around the table. A man sat with his back to the French doors, sipping from a demitasse dup of coffee - the scent was unbelievably rich and scented the air perfectly. He wore a deep sapphire hued shirt, no tie, and ice white slacks - the matching blazer had been hung over the back of the chair. The black leather shoulder holster was barely visible against the dark blue of the shirt.

“Mano, might introduce Scarlet Marlow.” Ariel brought Scarlet out and introduced the two, before taking the seat to Mano’s right.

Mano looked up from his contemplation of the mysteries of fine coffee and nodded deeply. “It is a pleasure to meet you Ms. Marlow. Please have a seat." He gestured for her to take whichever of the open chairs she chose "To what do we owe the honor of your presence. Couldn’t see enough from the road?” His tone was mildly amused. He too intended to let her know that her surveillance had not gone unnoticed, but had not alarmed them either

I couldn't help but look around as I was lead through the house by Ariel. It truly was massive! I'd stayed in hotels that were smaller than this place! It must have cost an absolute packet along with all the land and security. I was not going to pretend that this flaunting of wealth didn't touch a nerve for me. It was so annoying seeing that these two had all the wealth in the world at their fingertips while I was reduced to acting as a lapdog for some scrawny Law-bending Piece of Shit who thought he was better than me because I had had to come to him for a job. I gritted my teeth at the thought. They had been merciless the Lawyers, stripping it bare and I was going to make every last one of them pay. Marcello and Sons would be the first to taste my wraith. I had worked my way up through the ranks of his snotty little organisation, not that it had taken long, all for just this moment. I'd always felt like I had some kind of gift to sense the changing wind. I knew when something was going to go down and weither or not I was on the right side of the fence to get the best of it. Johnny thought he could manipulate this kind of money and make it bend to his will, I knew otherwise. Johnny wanted power yet these two were the real rising power. The Rabbit was threatening the Lion. I also knew that my chips were down wrong.

I saw my man sitting eating his breakfast on an expansive balcony, facing away from the morning sun and in towards the woods. I had to admit that he was not an unattractive chap. Perhaps a little too muscular for my tastes and with a much less savoury look about him. He looked like the sort of guy who got stuff done without touching it himself. But he looked assured, he had presence, a man not to be crossed, and I had no intention of crossing him. Not yet anyway. The gun was nothing big. Everyone in this damned city packed some kind of heat on them. I waited until we were introduced and offered a very slight nod of my head in recognition of him.
"The pleasure of this meeting is all mine, Mister Kane." I replied in my silky smooth diplomat's tone, my lips curling into a small smile at his last statement, "Oh, the view from the lane is wonderful, like the rest of this magnificant house, but I would have difficultly having this conversation from outside." I flashed my eyelids at him before getting down to business,
"I am here on behalf of Johnny Marcello, head of the Marcello Crime Family." I couldn't keep a sneer from my expression, Crime Family indeed, "he welcomes you to New Verona and is willing to offer you a contract for your time here in the city."

I took a breath, this was the crunch, I carefully positioned myself and checked my tone, managing to create a very strong level of dissatisfaction with what I was about to say, distancing myself from it,
"He requests that you accept this estate as part of his patch and that he recieve 60% of all future profits on your future deals in any form of illegal drugs. In return you gain his protection and a place in a rising Syndicate in this city." Another sarcastic smile. I would see his response before I made my own move. It was better to react to a response than to a thought. I would wait and bide my time.

"He requests that you accept this estate as part of his patch and that he recieve 60% of all future profits on your future deals in any form of illegal drugs. In return you gain his protection and a place in a rising Syndicate in this city."

I raised an eyebrow, my look mild as I listened to her statement, then I threw back my head and laughed.

"Some people think that if they try hard enough they will be able to leave their day jobs behind." I shook my head. "Sorry Ms. Marlow, that doesn't fly. His struggling little operation is not rising, no matter how much he may wish it was so, and I owe him nothing." I dangled an electronic fob (http://66.160.188.111/.ee97a38/cmd.233/embedded..ee97a30),simple in back plastic, save for the obvious large red button with it's embossed lettering. "Now I could be dramatic, and ever so lightly depress this little button, and Johnny-boy could find his world a raging inferno, but I'm a more subtle sort untill more is needed. Please take back to him my deepest condolences on the death of his little would be empire and I promise I'll send lillies to the funeral."

I settled back in my chair, taking another sip of the truly excellent coffee. I wondered what she'd do next. Her only loyalty was to herself. And the bitterness she carried around, nearly as openly as a whore plys her trade when the law is absent? A chip on her shoulder that could be put to good use. Should I like her offer.

Lobo raised an eyebrow and gave a broad, satisfactory smile. He could always mix business with pleasure. MMA wasn't his style, but that didn't matter. A man such as him has fought through a few scraps here and there, far more in his case. He would keep the task in mind, simple enough. They want the Hosokawa Clan to be taught a lesson and Lobo would be their teacher. He would teach them valuable street lessons, "Sure"

Please take back to him my deepest condolences on the death of his little would be empire and I promise I'll send lillies to the funeral."

I sat and listened as Mister Kane spoke, failing to keep a smile from my face at his words and at his actions. My own analysis was more than correct. This guy was seriously smart and more than subtle. He knew what he was doing and Johnny's gang had no chance against them. Sadly, I knew Johnny rarely graced the building itself, trusting his Brother to run it for him. I knew he had met me there, given me my briefing then buggered off back to his private yacht moored out in the Marina, with the rest of the Drug Barons and Millionaires who could afford such an expensive home. I had been there only once. He had invited me there in a half-arsed attempt to intimidate me into proving my loyalty. He did not want me to kill a competitor nor did he want me to blow up a rival Outfit to ease his own operations. No. He knew what he wanted. He looked at my body and knew what act would prove my loyalty to him. What reasons I had to hate him multiplied by ten then. I promised that I would cut his balls off and make him eat them in revenge for what he did to me. Lawyers. All the bloody same. They wanted everything from you, always wanted everything.

I eyed his key fob and continued to smile,
"To be honest, Mister Kane, I did not really have any intention of returning to Johnny. If you proved difficult to pursuade, I am meant to pull out a small knife hidden on my person and ram it into your throat, removing the competition. However, I value my life quite a bit, as I am sure you do. I am not in a mood to go down with a sinking ship when I shall recieve little to no reward for my trouble. I can see the wind blowing and it is very much in your sails. I would very much like to offer my services to your organisation, a real rising force and assist you in the crushing of Marcello and his pitiful holdings." I settled back, smiling easily, "though small, it might send the right message to your competitors to remove an old Firm and take it's operations for yourself."

Jimmy jumped over the upturned garbage can in less time than it took for the dropping to occur. When running from the cops, it doesn’t pay to stop and turn to pull down an obstacle only a couple of feet high. Up ahead, the punk was busy climbing over a chain link fence that barricaded the whole width of the alley. He made it over a few seconds before Jimmy was at the fence, pushing himself off the building’s outer wall to gain another second on the chase. The dirtball that Jimmy was chasing was losing ground, albeit slowly, and there wasn’t much length left in the alley.

Fortunately for Jimmy, as the scumbag was just coming to the juncture of the alley and the small one-way side street on which it ended, the hood of a dark blue car came into view three feet in front of the scumbag. What ensued was an amazing display of physics as the stupid man that had tried to run found himself bouncing off the car and landing solidly on his side. Jimmy didn’t let up, a good thing since the man was just getting up, and attempted a swing as McDulny went low, slamming his shoulder into the perp’s midsection and throwing him into a pile of boxes. When the man dragged himself out, he found himself facing down two 9mm barrels, Styles and McDulny standing above him. “Really,” said Styles, “I had thought you would have known better, Georgie.”

“Okay, okay, you guys win.” The two cops hauled Georgie up and pressed him to face the wall, as Chester found plastic bags of white powder. He handed those to Jimmy, continuing the search but turning up nothing more.

“Cocaine,” said McDulny, after little more than a texture test. “I’d say a few grams worth. Not good for you, Georgie. What do you think your grandmother will say when I show up at her door and let her know that you’ve been dealing again? And that location, near a church? Georgie, you need to do better than this.”

“Look, what do you guys want?” Georgie asked, as the cuffs were slapped on him and he was turned to face the detectives.

“You remember a patrolman named Richárd Elbert from our precinct?” asked Jimmy.

“Yeah, he ran into me a few times, what’s it to you? One of your buddies finally turn up dirty?”

“No,” said Chester. “He turned up dead. Dead cop, Georgie. Do the math.”

“Ah, fu-, no man, I ain’t know nothing about no dead cop. What the hell you talking to me for?”

“Georgie,” said Chester, sharply, “you talked to Rickie before he disappeared. So tell us, where did he go after he talked to you. Give us some names, and maybe we’ll make this whole incident disappear. So far, we’ve got you on possession, intent to sell, and assaulting a cop. Would you like us to add resisting to that?”

“No, that’s not necessary man. Look, Ricky asked me about a few dealers, nothing big, so I told him what I could and he left. That’s it, I swear. Do we have to go through all of this?”

“Alright Georgie, we’re going to take you to the precinct house, and you’re going to give us names and everything else that you told Rickie, and if it checks out then we’ll see what we can do for you, alright?” asked Jimmy, taking Georgie to the car.

Chester’s cell phone rang. He talked for a minute, before getting into the car with Jimmy and Georgie. “That was the captain. It’s officially Ricky, wife’s been notified. Our head start is up, press is getting wind in a few minutes. Want to catch it?”

“Sure,” replied McDulny.

The two headed towards a local pub, open all hours for cops, firefighters, E.M.T.s, and their friends. Others were welcome as well, but a badge and a reference got you in at 7A.M. for breakfast and first rounds during happy hour. When they arrived, Georgie was dropped in the courtesy booth, provided for cops visiting with such luggage. They sat opposite the large TV, tuning it to the local station of one of the main networks, though any of the several networks would do. They caught just as the chief was coming on to announce that Officer Richárd Elbert had been found murdered late in the night, and that the force would be opening a tip line for any information leading to Officer Elbert’s murderer being brought to justice. “Things are going to get hectic,” said Chester.

“Very,” said Joe, the proprietor, as he fixed the two breakfast. “I take it that I won’t be seeing you two around much for a while?”

“Yep, we landed lead on this,” said Chester.

None of the security guards would admit to knowing a cop named 'Tyler' but one or two of them had shown a glimmer when Sam described him.

Maybe he was just using a fake name to pick up chicks - she smiled to herself at the idea that she was a 'chick' - but if he was, why would he focus on her when there were dozens of obviously more compliant targets in the place? Why did she have this bizarro power over men when she made no effort whatsoever to attract them?

But why would he be wired if it was only her body that he was after? Admittedly, it was more-or-less flukey that she had discovered it, a guess that proved true only when she tapped his chest. If there was nothing there, it would have been 'Good night, buddy,' instead of 'Good night, guys.' So, since he was there in an official capacity, did he suspect her of something?

Her 'investigation' at Security would surely get back to him. It remained to be seen if he'd get back to her.

-------------

Sam knocked on the door of the C-130 as if it was a house. "What the fu__?" came a muffled voice from inside.

"It's me," Sam called, quite loudly.

The door opened a crack. "Oh, sorry, Captain." A tall, thin man finished pulling on his coveralls as he opened the door.

Silk was good, maybe not the best in the area, but able to hold her own, especially as while she had had formal training in a variety of martial arts styles, she also had had a solid grounding in the rough and tumble, no holds barred of street fighting. Someone with equal skills and greater mass and strength would be able to take her down, that was as given, but it was also a given that they'd get hurt bad doing it. She didn't fight fair. But then again being female, expecting her to fight fair was ...unintelligent.

The activities wing had a compete set up of changing rooms, showers, whirl pool, massage rooms and saunas - one could leave that core area and easily hit the gym, or the salle or the dojo or the main indoor swimming pool.

In the dojo Silk pushed Lobo hard, goading him, not only verbally but psychologically and physically - Letting her breasts brush against him, a hold being just a little longer than necessary, a cutting comment...
as always it was a test, to see how much he could take without loosing his temper, being distracted or getting rattled. She had no problem playing rough - she didn't mind getting bruised - and if he wanted to try to 'push' back he was welcome to.

She liked a man who could hold his own.

"though small, it might send the right message to your competitors to remove an old Firm and take it's operations for yourself."

"Small can always grow, if in the right hands." I smile back and lightly tap the large red button. Five seconds later there is the smallest echo of a 'chrump' from downtown. Five seconds after that there is another from the direction of the Marina.

"Those were very small and undramatic...ish. Life without drama?" I cocked an eyebrow and shook my head "Not gonna happen. Now, that removes the head and hands. You go replace them, make it a growing concern and I be your back up and silent partner. Ariel will be going with you as liaison. You can trust her." The "I do" needn't be said.

"Here the key cards to your new condo, it has better security" I laid a small embossed leather card case on the marble table top. When she asked Ariel later about the address she would be surprised to find that it was a compact but extremely luxurious two bedroom 'condo' in one of the two smaller mansions on the estate.

"Business is business Lou, but I understand where you're coming from. They cause trouble for us all. Tomorrow morning, nine AM if you can, Friday same time otherwise. The usual place.* Take care of yourself now, and Louie sends his regards to you too."

ooc: a house in the classier end of the Greek neighborhood, rented by Dimitris from one Kostas Nikarios

OOC-I'm back

IC-The car was a black Camero, tinted windows and a fake license plate. It rolled up to a house a block away from the meeting point, and two men got out. They entered the house and a few minutes later a trio emerged, wearing nondescript clothing. One carried a jump bag slung over his shoulder. They walked up to Nikarios' house and knocked on the door.

I listened to Mister Kane speak and watched as he pressed the detonator in his hand, hearing the expected vibration from downtown, right where the Marcello's Law Office was based. I felt the vibrations under the chair and I smiled to myself, knowing that without the Office Block, the Marcello's were ruined. They no longer had a legit front from which to run their money laundering and, without the money, the 'Empire', such as it was, would just break up and go it's seperate ways. It had been such a decisive beginning and end to the 'War'. I was pleased that my hunch had been right. The Marcello's didn't last five minutes. They lasted less than ten. Oh, how I was looking forward to seeing Johnny again.

Then there was a second explosion, coming in the direction of the Marina. An equally big explosion that even had me twisting my head towards the source of the noise, as if trying to confirm with my eyes what my ears had heard. Johnny Marcello dead? I knew I should be delighted that the delusional, perverted little Rapist had been killed but I could not take delight from it, simply because it had not been me who had killed him. I had dreamed about seeing his face for months, the look of fear and shock as he realised that I had betrayed him and thrown him to the Wolves. I regreted it a little, but only a little. However, I looked up in time to see Mister Kane offer me the keys to a small but very expensive condo on his estate, something I struggled to accept. I was uncustomed to such wealth after so long. I stuttered a thank you, disbelieving that this had finally happened to me. I had really hit the jackpot.

I nodded to the Mastermind in front of me, just managing to hide a smirk of pleasure from my face,
"It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mister Kane." I took the keys and, making sure that Ariel was in tow, I headed back down through the house, remembering from the initial journey where I was meant to go. It was a short trip back to my Thunderbird, still parked in the shade where I had left it. As I headed to it, I noticed two Guards standing nearby, seemingly not doing much, as there was more than enough security in the area to handle any threat. I decided to use my iniative.

"You two," I tapped one on the shoulder, "Get a car, follow me."

I slipped into the driver's seat of my car, waited until Ariel had belted up next to me and the two Goons were suitably prepared, before turning out through the gate and towards New Verona again. My destination was in one of the grimier areas of town, where I knew that the Marcello's biggest press was located. I had been there hundreds of times with Johnny and knew the way. It even sounded weird thinking it. Johnny Marcello dead. I pulled up outside the dilapidated building, home to a couple of dozen workers which printed off a small, cheap and worthless magazine legitimatly and money on the side. The Police never bothered with such a small and grotty place.

I stepped inside with Ariel and the two Goons on my shoulders, kicking the door open in a burst of adreneline so that all within would stop what they were doing and turn to look at me and my new Muscle. The Worker's familiarity with me, combined with the much more disciplined look of the two Goons accomplished that alright. I cleared my throat and began to speak, simply and clearly,
"Johnny Marcello is dead." A couple of shocked looks, "I run this operation now and if anyone wants to complain, my two friends here are more than willing to listen." Silence. "I know that Johnny paid you shit all for doing what is a highly demanding job with little or no reward and families starving because of it. My first act as Manager of this new establishment is to stop the printing. Stop flooding the market with this Mickey-mouse crap. Until I can source some decent talent, we'll halt operations. Your wages will all increase, so you can actually support your families, and this place will get a makeover, turn it into the upmarket location it was always meant to be. Thank you." I left them chatting away happily while I turned and headed straight outside, holding up a bundle of Marcello brand fake money.

Turning to Ariel, I explained my actions more carefully,
"The Marcello Money is no better than monopoly money is that poor a copy. Fortunately, I already have several plates lined up and ready for our use." I smiled at that, Johnny had spent tens of thousands trying to perfect the press while I had genuine Federal Reserve Plates ready which would have saved him all that time, money and agnst, but I wanted to watch him squirm, "By the time everything is up and running, which should only take a week at most, there will be no difference between our money and the real thing. A renovation is needed, first of all to install the new equipment without suspucion and the Cops are less likely to suspect an upmarket magazine as a printer of fake currancy. None of the Staff know about the little bit on the side, less worrysome that way. Even if they did, they have no loyalty to the Cops, so that should help a lot." I smiled deeply to myself. I was going to enjoy running my own little empire on behalf of the Kanes.

But there was much to do in the meantime, I had to visit all of the Businesses under Marcello protection and keep them onside, I needed to start interviewing new Journalists to rejuvanate the Magazine and, most importantly, I needed City Hall to catalogue all that was going on so that, on the surface at least, everything was nice and legal, everything traceable back to it's roots, even if those roots were fake.

Yes. I was starting to enjoy my life again.

Lobo circled around the dojo mat, smiling like a wolf. He couldn't say he didn't enjoy this time. Normally, on the street if a woman had goaded him, by shoving or verbally saying something, they'd be sorry in the worst way, and it wasn't pretty. But with Silk, there was a sense of understandable enjoyment from it, she was quite attractive and carried similar animalistic traits as he did. Both of them were cold-blooded killers, with the same lust for violence. It was a sick thing to many people but for Lobo, it was just a normalcy. He allowed her to get a few shoves and hits here and there. All the while it built up inside him, brimming with the need. inally, he could take it no longer, refusing to hold it back any longer. Lobo lunged forward, his right arm coming across Silk's shoulder, he threw her to the ground, hard enough to send a message but not hard enough to hurt her too much, she'd feel it that was for certain.

He grinned, "Play with fire and you know what happens"

Meanwhile, Mercer and his partner discussed what they believed were the best options for the upcoming undercover operation. Lt.Hugo was a veteran member of the NVPD and incharge of the undercovers for over six years. His work was admirable, he believed that this course of police work was best suited for getting to the core of crime syndiactes. He saw street gangs as simple, single minded entities of alienated youth with guns and a beef with the street down the block. Gangs could be easily controlled and policed. Syndicates and organized crime were far more tercherous to deal with. They were business oriented, intelligent, suspicious, and careful. The investigation into Dimitri Adenski involved members from the Organized Crime Task Force, Narcotics, Major Crimes Unit, and now Undercover Unit. It was a cluster-fuck of redtape and bickering, and turf wars. A joint operation was decided against for the most part by the higher ups after a heated meeting. It would be a lumbering, bickering giant, moving too slow to counteract LDM. So, Hugo convinced them to hand it over to him, he'd pick a few people from the units but they worked for him, anything and everything would be churned through the grinder and spit up to the other units. It was going to be a small, quiet operation. Just how Hugo liked them.

Frank left, reminding him about the meeting later that nite, tell no one he repeated. Mercer waved it off. He reentered his home and decided, after milling around for a few minutes to call Riley. At this time, Riley was asleep, his wife was working down at the Hospital so he had the house and bed to himself, no sharing sheets or space.

Riley fumbled with the phone, his eyes strained in vein to focus on the clock sitting atop the nightstand, "Hello?"

"Hey Riley, it's Sean Mercer, I'm sorry for waking you. Did you get anything else on my person of interest?" Mercer asked.

"Yeah, she inquired about a man named 'Tyler' to me before I got off shift, she's still at the airport from what I understand though"

"Thanks Riley, I owe you"

'Damn straight you do, son" Riley replied with a chuckle and hung up.

Gerard returned to his condo. He was a man of refined tastes. His condo interior was decorated with paintings and other antiques. Art Dealing was his primary occupation, one that fascinated him since childhood, the beauty that can emerge once brush touches canvas, marvelous creations painted by God through the hands of painters. He despised the gabage floating around these days. Splatters of paint and other materials over a canvas by some heroine junkie and it's called an instant sensation. Shards of iron welded together with a pig's head staked on top being dubbed "Bold and inventive". Works of art such as these sickened him. It was not art, it's not beauty, it's simply horrid and a blasphemey to real art.

On the long polished mahogony table were the blueprints for The Full House. Blue sheets of paper laid out. He jotted down notes, eyes rolling over every detail of the building. The kitchen sounded like the most sound and obvious place to start. But he remembered Adenski informing him that it was to be blamed on Vinny. So, the kitchen would make it seem like an accident, so perhaps somewhere else? Or, he could make it obvious that the kitchen fire was no accident, there were so many possibilities. After a few minutes he decided to start the fire in the kitchen despite all the other possibilities. Fine, that's settled. Now, how to lure Vinny there. Just having Vinny within camerashot of the Full House just prior to it going up in flames could be enough, just leak the photo to the crime family and it's all done.

He spent the next hour or so formulating his plan. If you want it done, you have to do it right, he told himself. Gerard prided himself on being a reliable associate and enjoyed working for Adenski. He wondered if this idea was his or someone else's. He knew he would never meet or even know the names of those truly behind this but it didn't matter.

"Play with fire and you know what happens"

"Yes, you get the fun of watching people's houses burn down" Silk didn't even try to come up off of the floor, simply turned the momentum into a body spin and took Lobo's legs out from under him, hard. as she rolled away. Coming to her knees Silk was ready for any moves he might make.


_______

"Even if they did, they have no loyalty to the Cops, so that should help a lot."

Ariel was pleased with the initiative that Scarlet showed in bringing some of Mano's muscle along with her and her explanation was a good one. High end always got less scrutiny, that was the way of money. "I've got lots of contacts 'downtown' if you need to get anything special in the way of Licensing or permits and such. Also will the banks give you any trouble taking over the accounts?"

Adenski’s associate Gerard Sandeau would have an easy time locating most of the Maranzino associates and some of the major players. It would be Vinny that would be the toughest to nail. Vinny had spent most of his adult life as a hitman for the Maranzino crime family. The business had taught him early to stay mobile and never stay in one place for a long period of time. He had a personal rule to move from the shady motels, and the occasional inn, or hotel at least weekly to avoid being pinned by law enforcement or rival assassins seeking to take him out of the game.

Vinny’s only constant location was either in his Coup De Ville or in the Full House serving drinks to the regulars. The rest of his time was rambling from job to job eliminating competition and earning money for the family by using his hit crew to stick up local truck drivers down on the highway and steal their merchandize.

Today was a job day however…….


Vinny upon entering his Coup De Ville promptly took out his cell and called all his players together for a little massacre. He needed to get the other Cuban dealers to get Intel on the rival street dealers and he needed to get information on Carlitto’s family and closest advisors. The Maranzino family had to separate themselves from any evidence of Carlitto’s murder and Vinny had come up with a nice little plan. He was going to make the Cuban dealers seem like a rival gang that was taking revenge for one of its own. Carlitto’s family and friends would just be the byproduct of gangland violence as they were also going to be whacked to ensure that they never revealed any information about the Maranzino family’s connection to the local Cuban dealers on 14th street.


Vinny quickly drove down to the waterfront near the Union local for the Longshoremen. The Union was a racket that the Maranzino’s had been trying to muscle into by assisting local labor leaders in their dealings with the dock commissioners. The commissioners would be properly bribed or intimidated to allow the union workers better pay and benefits in exchange for their help in smuggling shipments of cocaine and heroin into New Verona.

This operation was run by Jimmy “The Jew” Berman, Jimmy was another byproduct of the old days and his job was to act as Mr. Barlucchi’s business advisor and sometime street negotiator when dealing with other street organizations that needed to be dealt with in the form of words instead of bullets.

Jimmy provided a nice little warehouse just away from pier 16. The meeting was between Carlitto’s boys and his personal hitter crew to discuss the multiple hits that were going to take place. This was a fairly large operation that would involve at least two days of work and that could be quite risky given the current situation in the underworld. The other trick was not informing the Cubans about Carlitto’s demise at the hands of his protectors. The spicks would have to believe that the hit was a rival gang’s work.

It would not be hard considering the aggressive stance the rival dealers had been taken lately against the smaller gangs. It was no secret that the other drug cartel’s were pushing their men on the streets to be more bold and brazen with their competition and that meant small time dealers were getting whacked or rubbed out almost daily in the upcoming underworld unrest that had been following the rise of the newer drug cartels.


Julian Acosta and four of his fellow dealers were sitting together facing Vinny across a long table that was once used as a minor conference room for this rundown warehouse. The warehouse was once a thriving business until it went under a few years back. Jimmy bought it for being secluded and used it for private meetings between major criminal members of the Maranzino family.

Vinny looked at Julian and his associates and said, “Julian, The Family has some bad news. The other dealers in town have managed to kill Carlitto after we bailed him from the cops. His body has yet to be located but our eyes on the street say he was last seen being sacked by several unknown gang members on his way out of the police station. We both know what that means…”

Julian looked crestfallen and said, “Yes Senor Vinny, We know what it means he is probably been chopped up in some remote location by some off the boat Columbians or he was left in a ditch with a shit ton of bullet holes throughout his body…”


Vinny nodded and said, “Mr. Barlucchi, wants to avenge this slight against the Family and your crew. He has asked me to get you and your brothers some decent firepower and let you take care of your rivals. We don’t want anymore of you boys to be hunted down and killed by your rivals without giving you the means to protect yourselves.”


Julian sighed and realized that blood was going to be spilled as his Vatos and all nodded in agreement with looks of stone cold determination. It was obvious what was going down the mob was contracting them to avenge Carlitto. It made sense to Julian considering Carlitto was the first of them to get connected with the Maranzino family and he earned a decent amount of his proceeds only kicking up a mere forty percent to the mob and keeping the rest for himself and his mother as profit. The other guys had begun to do the same thing to earn the Voloian mob’s protection and to give their rivals pause before trying to whack them in the streets…

Vinny smiled and said, “I brought you all a present with regards from Mr. Barlucchi…”

Vinny snapped his finger and “Little” Ricky Siccero brought forth a crate with the help of Tony “Switchblade” Gambini. The two of them lifted up on the table and Leo “The Zip” Russovesse took out a crowbar and opened up the crate.

Vinny picked out a disassembled Kalashnikov assault rifle and said, “They came straight from the Kremlin to help us in our little war..”

The Cubans all smiled and promptly agreed as two more crates were loaded up onto their gray van. The Cubans promptly left but the Voloian members stayed inside the warehouse and began to discuss the second series of hits that would be coming…


Vinny looked at his crew and said to them quietly after the Cubans had departed to their hangout on 14th street, “Mr. Barlucchi wants the following people dealt with quickly and like always without a trace of our involvement. We need to whack Carlitto’s crack addicted mother and her children and make it look like a drug cartel hit and then we have to hit Carlitto’s priest Lorenzo on Palm Springs Catholic Church.”


The Voloian mobsters all looked at each other and nodded. Vinny smiled and said, “You will each be paid your usually fees via Swiss bank transaction after the hits have been confirmed on the local papers. I don’t want any f-ck ups, We need to make sure that it looks real enough to get the cops attention on the Cartels and off our own backs. We thus are going in with Uzi’s and AKs along with black ski masks and black jumpsuits and gloves to avoid fingerprints. Mr. Barlucchi wants this messy, bloody, and personal just like the streets would demand of it…”

The hit squad moved out of the warehouse and got into their separate vehicles. They intended to get to their specific targets tonight if possible…..


OOC:

The Hit Team:

Vinny “The Shadow” Barlucchi
Leo “The Zip” Russovesse
“Little” Ricky Siccero
Dino Carbone
Gino Carbone
Tony “Switchblade” Gambini

Cuban Dealers:
Julian Acosta
Ricardo Valdez
Emilio Dias
Victor Ortega
Sammy Gasa

"Liscencing and permits would be more than helpful," I nodded, pulling into the main stream traffic heading towards the more dilapidated areas where the Marcello's had had all their protection rackets. I was not sure if Mano would want to keep up the small and barely profitable little Businesses that Johnny had been pulling, seeing as he had fleeced them senseless anyway, leaving these poor guys to eck out a living on nothing. It had made my blood boil at the time and it still did. However, I had plans there too, I had been planning for this for a long time. I knew what had to be done,

"I thinnk we should cut the prices that the Marcello's were demanding in return for protection. If we can undercut our Rival Protection Rings by enough of a margin, then we can 'gently' pursuade the People over to our side while sucking the lifeblood out of more Rivals." I smiled at Ariel's expression, answering the question on her lips before she could even answer it,
"Don't worry, I have enough 'dirt' on their leader to ensure he won't come near us. He'll sit and huff while he slowly loses all his Goons, businesses and profits." I smirked, wind whipping through my hair which stretched out behind me.

"Will the banks give you any trouble taking over the accounts?"

"Nahh," I shook my head, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the rim of the wound down window, enjoying the sensation of driving in such a city, "All the books are in fake names anyway to protect Johnny and his Cronies." including me "So there's no problems there. The fake name may be...well...fictional, but he has a birth certificate, he has a Social security number and he paid his taxes on time last year. He is in every way legit. It also helps immensely that he is a Swiss Resident living in Switzerland with us using a Swiss bank. The Cops can't go near it." I smiled to myself, it was an incredibly piece of evasion, the best I had ever done. What was even better that this fake man had a law firm to represent him should any legal problems ever come up in court, one of the best, so he would never need to show his face. I loved democracy, so easy to manipulate.

"Mister Kane wouldn't mind if I threw an expensive party in two or so weeks would he? I need to get the right sort of people interested in the Printing Project and, even better, if they pledge money to it, especially the Police Chief or the Mayor, then it will add another layer of Security to the arrangement." I smiled. Life couldn't be any sweeter than this.

Oh, I had such plans.

8th Street Corner……

8pm…..

Carlitto’s favorite selling spot was a popular spot for dealers because it was in the middle of the main roads that were heavy in traffic at night on the way to big clubhouses along the beach and as such it was good spot to sell and made it easier to hide in the massive crowds that wandered around from spot to spot.

It was once Carlitto’s personal turf until his untimely demise a few days ago. The spot was now open and like all things in this world. The living tend to take away the possessions of the dead so to speak. The spot was now being dealt with and the 14th street crew was going to take back their turf from the rivals that had started dealing in Carlitto’s old street corner.

The new dealer was working the business with Carlitto’s old regulars and like Carlitto he would hide in the crowd whenever the five o decided to drive by for a scoop of the area. Julian was the wheelman for the hit inside an old black Impala. The Cubans called the dealer over like a buyer and once the dealer got within a few feet of the passenger window. Sammy pulled out his AK-47 from the shotgun position and fired dead on at the dealer spraying him with several bursts of the high powered automatic assault rifle..

The rival dealer screamed as the bullets hit him repeatedly, the biting pain hit him over and over as bullets whizzed through him and several stray shots hit some of the addicts on the corner and one of them fell on the pavement dead…

Julian smiled as the dealer fell down to the pavement and drove away from the scene of the crime as the people on the street ran away from the street corner. They were heading up north to a nearby trash dump to have the Impala crushed into a cube to avoid being connected to the crime. The AK would be left in the car thus scrapping it to get rid of the evidence…


OOC: If anybody wants to claim the Dealer feel free. If not he can be an independent operator

The day began to wind down. The sun set beautifully over the horizon, turning the sky into a plethera of bright, yet soft colors. The palm trees swayed in the wind, the beaches emptied out save the lovebirds, and the street lights blazed. Now, New Verona truly came alive at night. But this was not the night for parties, drinks, and women for Mercer. Tonight was stricly business. After tonight, he would no longer be who he once was but a fabricated man, one created and molded from thin air to do what was needed. Mercer drove is GTO off to the docks. New Verona was also a major shipping hub for the region. Vast, expansive warfs, shipyards, drydocks, and even a contracting company that built ships for the Navy. Vast mountains of cargo containers, massively tall cranes dotted along the piers. Ships sat idle at dock.

Mercer turned off to the warehouse section of the docks. Rows of warehouse containing all sorts of shipments, cargo, you name it: it was probably there. It was secluded, Port Authority Police stayed out of that area for the night so they would be nice and secluded. He parked the car around the back and walked into the office of one warehouse.

Inside were Lt's Warwick and Hugo, as well as his partner Dawson and two other people whom he didn't recognize. Mercer took a seat at an old wood table.

Hugo looked at Dawson then to Mercer, "Nice to see you could make it. Now we can get this started" He walked over to a chalkboard and flipped it over. The other side was covered with photos, index cards, and writing, "As you know we're here for this man, Dimitri Adenski. We all know what hes suspected of doing so we'll cut to the chase. His primamry enforcer is a man named Antonio "Lobo" Santos, head of a street gang known as Los Dos Muertes from what our informants tell us. Now, all normal avenues of police work have failed and after a lengthy discussion with the Commissioner and the heads of the other departments currently running investigations against him, they all agree that a different approached is required"

Mercer leaned back, nodding occasionally. Dawson made no movements and Warwick appeared as though he just had someone come down on him for something. Mercer suspected he was opposed to undercover work, fuck him.

"Sean Mercer, Frank Dawson-You two from this moment on are no longer detectives in the NVPD, now you are scum. You are criminals out to make money and pursue illegal activities. My people have invented your new lives, personas, and identifications. We have them here for you. Both of you are onboard for this and now there's no turning back. Your electronic records in the NVPD have been erased and ommitted, so that they cannot be hacked. Your paper files are locked away safe. The titles to your homes and cars have been altered, as well as your bills. We're getting cooperation and funding from the FBI so we have the cash to do this, for the time being."

Hugo walked over to the two other people, one was a female latina, the other a black man, These are Lucia Ramirez and Mike Fisher, they are from MCU, that's not their real names, well now they are. The four of you will be working together on this one. After tonight, none of you will ever set foot near a precinct. If you want to contact us, it will have to be by pay phone and we have a number for you to call. This is all about discretions, secercy, and being as quiet as possible. Any questions?"

Mercer ket his comments to himself, Hugo was being dramatic, perhaps overly such. But, he supposed this was an act to get them to see the seriousness of the assignment. They will be cut loose and given permission to be cirminals. It was exciting but dangerous, that means the cavalry won't be coming in at the last moment to save the day, they're all alone.

His new identity was Tyler Henson, arrested for grandtheft auto, spent five years. Everything was there, drivers license, social security card, passport, all the documents were skillfully made and the backstories convincing. Hugo made it obvious that each would need to know their new selves inside and out, their lives may depend on how convincing they were. Frank Dawson was now Ian Matthis, arrested for unregistered weapons. Tyler looked up at Ian and smiled, 'Well, partner in crime, lets get to work"

Sam liked payphones. When she was a teenager, her father had given her a quarter and told her to always carry one in her pocket or in her shoe or in her bra, so she could always call home when she needed help, no questions asked. Of course, there always were questions asked, but the princple remained. He had given her a condom too, but she had never needed that.

To this day, the sound and feel of a payphone reminded her of wild adventures - or so they had seemed at the time. She pushed the quarter in and listened to it fall noisily through the primitive security system. She pushed the big and clunky buttons that had to be both weather-proof and tantrum-proof. She listened to the ringing that seemed to span the time from a bygone era.

"New Verona Police Department. How can I help you?"

"Hi," Sam said, smiling at the phone for no apparent reason. "I'm looking for a Detective named 'Tyler' - first name. I don't know his last name. I wonder if you could put me through to him, please?"

"Tyler? Um, I don't see anybody on the extension list with that first name. There are a couple of T's, though. I can put you through to the detectives' squadroom, if you like."

"No, thanks. He's probably out of the office anyway. Can I leave a message?"

"Sure. Whom shall I say is calling?"

"Mrs. Dee. Sandra Dee. He'll remember me. Just tell him I called. He'll know why." He wouldn't remember the name, of course, because she had just made it up on the spur of the moment. He would remember, hopefully, that she knew him as 'Tyler'. He also wouldn't know why she had called but, hopefully, he would be curious.

"And where can he contact you?" the receptionist asked, politely.

"He'll have to come and see me in person," Sam said. "He knows where."

"Ooh, very mysterious," the receptionist giggled slightly.

Sam laughed. "Well, it isn't exactly life-and-death."

"Okay. I'll get your message to him."

"Thank you. Bye."

"Goodbye."

Sam also liked payphones because of the anonymity. She had no doubt that they could trace the call with their high-tech voodoo, but why would they? And even if they did, she'd be long gone by the time they got there.

So now the ball was in Tyler's court - if he remembered her, and if he remembered where to find her, and if he cared. If not, she was out.

She headed back toward the airport.

Tyler stepped into his GTO, roaring the engine and spurring out of the docks. Now was the time for them to scatter and never be seen in the same group, lying low for a week or so. Undercoverwork was all consuming and required saint-like patience. These things took time, too much time for some. he pitfalls for undercover work were numerous and dangerous. some undercovers are exposed and killed, some go too deep and become the monsters they created, losing themselves, disconnecting from their true identities and lives. He had no wife and his girlfriend broke it off six months ago. Sean Mercer no longer existed, now Tyler Henson stepped into play.

He drove home and proceeded to removing anything in the house which would give him up. Old bills, receipts, letters, everything that had his old name were destroyed. Organized crime syndicates hired professionals, who were good with computers and investigative work at checking out potential dealers, associates, and so forth. They were meticulous and thorough. Nothing could be left that may compromise him. After an hour or so that was complete, he watched a fore burn in his backyard. Tyler walked back inside to see a red flash on the answering machine.

"Detective Mercer, this is Lt.Warwick. I got a message from the receptionist here at the 25th, a woman by the name of Sandra Dee was looking for a man named 'Tyler'. I figured this was for you. Whatever you have going on, be careful. The note says this woman knows where you can find her"

And the message ended. It sounded like the mysterious woman from Club Fever. She's been making inquiries of her own as it sounds. Riley was working tonight, he gave him a ring. Tyler explained to him that he could no longer call him at this number for security reasons. Riley didn't ask questions, only telling him that the woman was aboard a plane at the airport.

"Are they about to take off?" Tyler asked

'Oddly enough, no" Riley replied from the security room at the airport, "Theyre grounded for supposive maintenance and layover, sounds weak to me"

"Same here" Tyler responded, nodding. There was more to her than what she let on. All the backround checks checked out but something wasnt right, it could be a trap, or something else. Tyler thanked him for the information. He climbed back into the GTO and raced for the airport, curiosity finally caught hold of him. Maybe she was a player in town and this could prive a vital asset to get his way to Adenski's inner circle, or not it didn't matter.

At the airport, Tyler met with Riley in the security office. He explained that the woman was a person of interest and said little else. All the while Riley nodded. The Manager for the Air Intermediate Maintenance Department was present as well. There was going to be a truck head out with extra fuel for the C-130. Tyler made himself a part of the crew. He was using his shield for the last time, might as well go out with a bang. He wondered how many heat attacks Warwick would have if he caught him doing this. Oh well, he thought, I'm not a cop anymore so I can do what I want or need to further the case.

he donned a pair of coveralls and climbed into the truck with the driver who gave him a confused glare, Tyler flashed his badge and gave a brief explaination. The driver wanted nothing to do with it but cooperated. The truck slowly made its way down the access roads along the edge of the airfield. It was noisy and planes were taking off and landing. The lights on the runways illuminated the ground. Other vehicles criss-crossed around. The driver radioed the plane and informed them of their arrival.

The C-130 looked foreign on the tarmac. While there were numerous commercial and international plaes dotted around, this one stuck out. The AirForce base was an hour west of the city limits. He climbed out, eyes looking about the plane. The driver got out, turned on some levers and switches and did his thing. Tyler saw the stairs to the plane were down, he gripped the handrails tight and made his way up and pounded on the door, she was in for quite a suprise.

Sam opened the door and smiled. "Will you walk into my parlour? said the spider to the fly." She motioned toward the darkened interior of the plane. "Excuse the mess. We dropped off a couple of trucks at the last stop and they leaked oil - or something- all over the place."

"Ms.Samantha Dee, I do believe youre not really who you say you are" Tyler said, returning the smile. He looked back at the nervous driver, connecting the hoses and doing other things, 'Im sure my friend out there will manage just fine without me"

He stepped inside the space inside the plane. It was empty, no cargo, just assorted things strapped down tight, he dusted off the loose fitting coveralls, "At least your job offers you travel to exotic locals he mused.

"Ms.Samantha Dee, I do believe youre not really who you say you are" Tyler said, returning the smile.

"My name really is Samantha Smith. I think I told you the other night. I didn't think your friends needed to know that - unless you want to tell them."

"At least your job offers you travel to exotic locals" he mused.

"My government is notoriously, uh, frugal. I really do work for FI6. And, as you can see, I really am on a lay-over. I'll admit that the flight is somewhere in the neighbourhood of sub rosa. Suffice it to say, I was somewhere and I'm on why way to somewhere else and meanwhile, I'm here.

"Congratulations. It was pretty astutue of you to find me out here. I was going to wait in the terminal for you. I guess I didn't give you enough credit.

"Can I offer you a beer?"

"Lets say I have an investigative knack for finding people and things, kinda my speciality" Tyler replied. He wondered how much information he should let her have. This was a dangerously smart and clever woman and can easily see through a thinly painted lie. His real name was out of the question, just stick to the story.

"Can I offer you dinner?" Tyler retorted, "I don't like beer on an empty stomach"

"Can I offer you dinner?" Tyler retorted, "I don't like beer on an empty stomach"

A tall man in coveralls appeared out of the gloom. "All right, Captain?"

Sam nodded. "That's is my pilot," Sam said to Tyler. "You can speak freely in front of him. He isn't interested in anything that doesn't have wings or boobs. The rest of the crew aren't allowed to speak to me. I might corrupt them.

"Can he have a beer, or are we going to have to leave in a hurry? These Hercs like a sober pilot."

Tyler nodded to the tall man, it was an annoying interruption but he kept an even face and a nonchalant attitude. Captain? He wondered if she told the whole truth.

"You didn't answer my question, Sam" Tyler said, "Can I offer you dinner?" he repeated.

"You didn't answer my question, Sam" Tyler said, "Can I offer you dinner?" he repeated.

"Sure. I'd offer to bring back a cheeseburger for the boys, but they still have chicken and pizza from this morning. This isn't exactly your standard military-issue aircraft, you know. They've got a fridge and a microwave up there. I don't even have a microwave in my house."

She ran her fingers through her short red hair. "Ready."

"Huh, most women take hours to get ready Tyler noticed. He looked down at his shabby attire. He unzipped the coveralls and let them fall to the ground. He was wearing just some jeans and a t-shirt, nothing fancy. It's not like he was going to hit up the high-end resteraunts or anything. They left the plane and hopped a ride on the truck. The driver was confused and bewildered to say the least, this was one of his more interesting nights. He dropped them off at the access gate to the flight line and the gate slid open. They made it to his GTO.

"There's my Black Beauty" Tyler smiled, "Now, what are you in the mood for. I'm up for anything, havent eaten all day"

"There's my Black Beauty" Tyler smiled, "Now, what are you in the mood for. I'm up for anything, havent eaten all day"

"Well, back home it's National Luau Week, but I suppose pig and poi is out of the question...." She looked at the car. "What is this? About six liters? The average car in Fatatatutti is about 500cc."

"That's correct" Tyler said. He popped open the passenger side door for Sam, like a chivelrous gentleman. He rounded around the hood, sleaking his hand along the smooth buffered surface and sli into the driver's seat. The engine roared to life and they were off, "I know this nice little Cuban joint out down near Santiago Beach, outdoors, good music He said as they turned onto the highway, leaving the airport behind, it grew more and more distant till it disappeared from view and they angled through traffic, observing the skyline of the city. Now, New Verona was truly alive and vibrant.

They entered Santiago Beach. The string of restaurants, clubs, and other places were in full swing. Some of the high end places had fast European cars, sleak and new. Tyler perferred his classic car, it was American muscle, and nothing beat that.

la Casa de Havana was located just on the corner of Waterside Blvd. Palm trees lined the outside, the walls werw white. ceiling fans dotted the ceiling. It felt very Cuban inside. There was a live band. The courtyard was where most of the tables were. Strung lights looped from post to post.

"I hope you're in the mood for Cuban, then" Tyler said, getting out of the car. It was busy, but not frightfully so. A waiter led them to a two person table. A small candle sat on the table, dancing playfully in the wind. As they took their seats, Tyler contemplated many things. He was enjoying himself, that was for certain. But the problem lied within the lie. He was a lie, Tyler Hanson was a lie, and things were just going to get complicated and dangerous over the next few weeks or possibly months.

"So, exactly how long do you have in New Verona?" Tyler asked.

"I hope you're in the mood for Cuban, then" Tyler said, getting out of the car.

"I've never had it," Sam said. "But if it's vaguely tropical, it won't be very different from what I'm used to. I like the palm trees. If We could sit on the ground, it would be just like home."

"So, exactly how long do you have in New Verona?" Tyler asked.

"Since the day we met. When was that? Two, three days ago?"

She looked across the table at Tyler. "Y'know, there are two kinds of liars in the world, casual liars and nervous liars. Me, I'm a casual liar. You know I'm lying about something and I don't care that you know. I could be running from a bad relationship and lying about that and you wouldn't care. For me, lying to you is just my way of telling you that I don't want you to know the truth.

"You, on the other hand, strike me as a nervous liar. You're worried that I'll find out that your real name isn't Tyler. Worse than that, you're worried that somebody a lot more dangerous than me will find out.

"Catching me in a lie is no big thing. Catching you in a lie might be.

"My question is, if they - whoever they are - catch you in a lie, is it going to get me killed too?"

Tyler took in her words with silence and thought. She spoke the truth about lies and liars. He came to admit that he may never know the true extent of her, her business, or anything remotely connected to her. Samantha Smith was an intriguing mystery and he decided against spoiling it by finding the truth. He leaned forward, his eyes meeting hers.

'Im not running from anyone. In the business I'm in, anything can happen. I do what I can to keep certain people on my good side, Im an all around nice guy and easy to work with. Those I work for, know this and I've had sparce problems. Now, the question of your involement. The answer is I don't know. It's certain that if something goes south, and I'm to blame, they would go after me from every angle and after those around me as well. Yes, catching me in a lie is very dangerous. There's no way for me to convince you I'm not a cop. Let's just leave our stories as they are, truth or lie, it doesn't matter." Tyler said, "Part of me certainly doesnt want you to know the truth, for my protection and possibly yours. The other part doesn't care what you know. But we both seem content in lying, at least were truthful about that much. Sometimes it's best to keep the truth hidden"

He snickered to himself, "Takes truth or dare to a new level, huh?"

"There's no way for me to convince you I'm not a cop."

Of course there wasn't, she said to herself. If he wasn't a cop, he never would have gotten back to her.

"You're used to dealing with idiots, aren't you?" she said, "thugs whose bullets are bigger than their brains. The trouble is, there are one or two people around who are a little smarter - I think maybe that Russian fellow who runs the Fever A-Go-Go, or whatever they call it.

"The smart ones are dangerous and I'm not sure you're up to their level. If I can get close enough to spot your wire, you'd better not wear one. And if I can blow your cover with one phone call to the police station... whoever you're investigating or spying on could do the same thing.

"By the way, I tried the CIA first but they wouldn't take my call.

"You never should have come to see me, but it isn't your fault. I seem to have some kind of strange power over men. I don't know why. I don't even like men.

"But since I've got you on the hook, I might as well tell you exactly what I'm doing here. You can believe it or not. I don't care.

"We got wind of a drug war or some such thing going on here, so I was, uh... diverted, shall we say, to see if there's any threat to the Fatatatutians living in the area.

"It doesn't seem likely that there are any Fatatatutians involved in your underworld. I don't mean to stereotype, but it isn't in our national character.

"On the other hand, if they were victims, we'd feel obligated to step in and protect them. Maybe round up a container-full of your hoods and ship them off to Ulanpataar, or some such godforsaken place. I don't want to go all one-woman-army on this place, but as a last resort....

"So, can I offer you any help?"

Tyler nodded, he suspected her reasoning for being in New Verona was more than just layover. Things were just getting stranger and stranger. He motioned for the waiter to come over and ordered a bottle of wine. After the waiter was gone, he cleared his throat.

"Well, just to clearify something. I am no longer a member of the NVPD as of this night. So, I'm not a cop, I'm something more" Tyler said, "Also, I'm more in line with handling narcotics and we've been watching our Kulikovian friend for the past few weeks, he is one of the smart ones and we are over our heads. But now myself and my associates have some slack on the chain, we're more flexable."

He hushed as the waiter reappeared with a bottle of wine, setting down two glasses and pouring small amounts into each, Tyler motioned for him to fill the cup. After a bewildered look, the waiter went hard on the amount and left without a word. Tyler downed a quick gulp.

"I pulled the name Tyler out of thin air the first time we met and I asked for the same name for undercover, I don't know what the receptionist did but my boss intercepted the note and told me. You were a person of interest, and if you didn't want me to come around, you shouldn't have been so persistent, not that I'm complaining" Tyler paused and took another sip, easing himself this time.

"We've had Club fever under surveillance but the Judge is fucking us over on authorization for a wiretap. Adenski's smart and descrete, we don't know who else he's working with but its big. I don't know what assistance you can give, we need to learn to crawl before we can walk here. Give us credit, Sam. All I can say right now is just keep your ear to the ground while you're here and let's enjoy some dinner" he offered a smile.

Sam tasted the wine and wrinkled her nose. "Grape."

"I am no longer a member of the NVPD as of this night. So, I'm not a cop, I'm something more" Tyler said.

She shrugged. "You were a cop when I spotted you as a cop. If I spotted you, somebody else will too. I doubt that they'll be impressed by technicalities of time-line." She resisted making a snarky comment about him having 'Cop' tattooed on his forehead.

"You were a person of interest, and if you didn't want me to come around, you shouldn't have been so persistent, not that I'm complaining"

She laughed. "Persistent? I made a phone call. You haven't seen me persistent." She looked at him across the rim of the wineglass. "If you hadn't shown up, I'd be on my way to Fatatatutti by now."

"I don't know what assistance you can give, we need to learn to crawl before we can walk here. Give us credit, Sam."

"I've been walking for years." She looked into the wineglass and considered whether she should take another taste, just for show. "If you can tell me that my Fatatatutian brothers and sisters are all right, I guess I'll fly out tonight."

Tyler looked at her and took a deep breath, "There's nothing on our radar about Fatatatutian involvement in anything illegal here" he replied, taking another sip, "Adenski's outfit is international, but he has no dealings with people from your country, weve pinned a descent amount of people in his chain of command. Enforcers, lieutenants, street soldiers, suppliers, dealers. But we want him and whoever else is in league with him. The others are small time, we're after the big fish"

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Then I guess I'm done here." She looked at him. "That really is the only reason I'm here. Maybe you'll believe me when I'm gone tomorrow."

She set the wineglass down. It wasn't necessary to continue making a pretense of liking it. "Since I am here, though, I'll give you some advice for free." She picked up her napkin and made a show of dabbing her lips and her fingertips, as if to signal that she was finished. "I think your 'war on drugs' is the problem rather than the solution. I bet New Verona spends more money on picking up drug dealers than Fatatatutti spends on all law enforcement for the whole damn island. You think you're making it harder for the drug cartels to operate? All you're doing is forcing up the prices. You're putting more money in their pockets, so they can buy better and better thugs.

"That's my take on it anyway." She draped the napkin casually but elegantly over her wineglass.

"If you're ever in Fatatatutti, look me up. I don't hang out much at the airport but ask around. It's not such a big island, only six billion or so of us, and less than half are named Smith." She stood up. "I can find my own way back to the airport."

"You think we are wasting our time?" Tyler asked, taken back by the sudden change in tempo. He was confused but still understood where she was coming from, "This is a war worth fighting. Last week, Elizabeth Jones, age 8, killed by a stray bullet when two rival gangs ran into one another. A week before that, a drug addict breaks into the home of a school teacher and her husband, a construction worker. He's so hopped up on ten different drugs he stabs the husband to death and rapes the wife"

His voice poured emotion, he truly felt as though he would burst from it, "Rico Calderon, was an informant for us. He was chainsawed and fed to the gators. Not to mention his wife met the same fate. These drug cartels are ruthless in their agend to pouring drugs onto out streets. Things are bad here, I don't know what its like in your country but in this city, we're fighting a death struggle. Our friend, the Kulikovian is single-minded and willing to do whatever it takes. This war were fighting is about escalation, now its our turn. You don't understand this city, I wish I didn't.:

He watched her stand up, "By the way, my name's Sean Mercer. I'm a detective in the NVPD. Would you suggest we do nothing and let them take our city completely? Turn this into some sort of Vice City?"

"These drug cartels are ruthless in their agend to pouring drugs onto out streets."

"You're not listening. I'm telling you that you made them what they are. You gave them the power."

"Things are bad here, I don't know what its like in your country but in this city, we're fighting a death struggle."

"There are some drugs in Fatatatutti but they're cheap. There's no money in it for organized crime and there's no need for users to commit crimes."

"Would you suggest we do nothing and let them take our city completely? Turn this into some sort of Vice City?"

"I suggest that you flood the market with cheap drugs. Dry up the money.

I'm afraid it's too late to do anything about the monsters you've created though. They'll either find some other human weakness to feed on or they'll move somewhere else. You can't unbreak the eggs but you could at least have sense enough to stop breaking them."

Mercer puffed out some air, "Put more drugs out there?! Support this addiction which is strangling our city? We can dry up the money another way. That's where they'll hurt, is their pockets. All we need to do is find the money launderers and other groups and banks which knowingly support them and assist in monetary transactions. There's ways of taking them down, but flooding the streets with more drugs won't solve the problem, I'm sorry"

He felt himself getting angered by this talk, things may be rainbows and chocolate streams in her country, but things were different here. I watch the slow but steady decay of New Verona. Street Gangs were one thing but organized crime outfits were far more powerful, influential, and tenacious. Gangs can be destroyed through simple arrests, community outreach programs and such. These syndicates were different, harder to crack. He watched his brother become a smack addict and spend ten years in county for assault and possesion. It sickened him, his brother was the main reason he became a cop in the first place. Now, he was going to dwell deep into the inner circles of Hell to tear them down. Would they succeed? Unknown. But they sure as Hell were going to try.

"There are good people in this city, many are just scared. I don't care how hopeless you think this situation is. We are up against powerful odds, but I don't care. I'm damned going to try, and if I make it through, I suppose I can go see you. Now, are you finished barrating our attempts to fight drugs? Or would you suggest we start handing out guns too?" Mercer let his temper flare just a bit, not enough to draw attention though.

"Put more drugs out there?! Support this addiction which is strangling our city?"

"I didn't say you should put 'more' drugs out there. I said you should put all the drugs out there. The market is already saturated. You wouldn't create any more addicts than you already have.

"You could do it over night. As of tomorrow morning, not one red cent in the pockets of any gangster."

"There are good people in this city, many are just scared. I don't care how hopeless you think this situation is.

"The situation isn't hopeless unless you continue using the same tactics that failed yesterday and the day before. You need to assess your situation realistically and understsand that your methods aren't working. Your methods created the problem."

"Now, are you finished barrating our attempts to fight drugs?"

Not even close. But I can see that you're finished listening. You'll go on doing the same old same old, ruining people's lives and patting yourselves on the back for 'trying'. You're so married to your old failed ideas that you won't even look at a system that does work."

"Or would you suggest we start handing out guns too?"

Sam laughed. "You don't know anything about me or my country, do you? I expect I'm about the only person in New Verona who isn't carrying a gun. Violence breeds violence. If you want a war on drugs, you'll get one - and you won't win. A lot of innocent people will get killed in the crossfire, but you won't win.

'War is nearly always a bad idea. All I can do is urge you to give up your knee-jerk attitudes and try something that does work."

Palms Springs Catholic Church……..



Holy Saturday….


It was Saturday evening and the Catholic Priest Lorenzo held mass for his flock. The aged priest had been doing this for roughly 40 years and being a man of sixty years helped him greatly to understand the many people in his rundown neighborhood. Father Lorenzo had long been an advocate for several gang bangers and dealers that attended his confessional services to relieve themselves of their sins. It was rumored that even Carlitto himself had used Lorenzo to confess his profession from dealing to being connected to the Voloian mob. It was no secret that Father Lorenzo was an enemy of organized crime and the drug trade. He condemned it constantly during his sermons to his faithful flock. It was a typical mass until they came in….



A Black SUV pulled up to the Church Parking Lot and several men dressed in black jumpsuits with black ski masks and black clothed gloves. They pulled out several AK-47 assualt rifles and two of them had UZI submachine guns.


The driver stayed in the SUV leaving it running and the other five men left the SUV and they walked up to the church with their weapons brandished out proudly and boldly. Two of them left the group and took positions around the entrance and back way. This left three men that walked inside the church and began firing into the air to halt the mass….

The leader of the group yelled out in his best Latino dialect, “Hey Father, 14th street has a rule about rats. They die by the gun Vato!” The three men dressed in black began firing their assorted weaponry at Father Lorenzo. The Priest tried to hide behind the altar and began to pray to God for his soul as the leader ran up to the altar and fired at the crouching form of the Catholic priest with his AK-47 and fired several bursts of automatic fire leaving a series of bullet holes into the old man. He cried out only to be silenced by the assualt rifle as the flock was held in check by submachine gun fire into the air…

The assassin promptly left with his cohorts after his little massacre of the Catholic Priest and they all headed to the Black SUV trying to get away before the cops came to investigate the murder….

In The SUV….


Vinny pulled off his ski mask as the black suv passed several blocks and said, “Leo lets ditch the get away car and leave the weapons here. The police will not get any prints on these weapons and we need this to look sloppy and traceable to our Cuban friends on 14th street…”

The SUV was left in about four blocks from Club Fever in a back alleyway. The Voloian mobsters changed into regular civilian clothes and walked a block or two away taking a taxi back to the Full House...

Mercer raised an eyebrow, he wasnt wuite sure what to make of this whole mess. It seemed like a switch turned on and she was on the offensive, barrating him and the efforts of the NVPD as they desperately battled drug cartels. She spoke of putting all the drugs out there. What drugs? The drugs they seized? The amounts seized by the Cost Guard, Customs, and the NVPD don't come close to the amount that escapes them every month or so. He pushed the chair back and stood up, face blank.

"Well Sam, it sounds like we are both wasting our breath here. So, I'm going to leave, I have a hopeless war to fight" Mercer stated as he threw some money on the table and polished off the glass of wine.

"This is a war of escalation. They move in and sell illegal drugs, we make arrests and jail dealers. They start becoming more careful, we have to become smarter. They become more aggressive, we have to hammer them. It's started and there's no turning back"


Meanwhile, back at Silk and Mano's villa, Lobo staggered bacl a few feet. Silk had some bite to her as well, he grinned like a wolf and came at her again, hooking his arm around her throat, lifting her up with his other arm, twisting his hips and the motion threw her back onto the mat.

"You can give up at anytime" He mocked

"Well Sam, it sounds like we are both wasting our breath here. So, I'm going to leave, I have a hopeless war to fight" Mercer stated as he threw some money on the table and polished off the glass of wine.

"This is a war of escalation. They move in and sell illegal drugs, we make arrests and jail dealers. They start becoming more careful, we have to become smarter. They become more aggressive, we have to hammer them. It's started and there's no turning back"

"You know what the sad part is?" Sam asked. "Deep down, you know I'm right, don't you?

"The level of double-think is really quite amazing. You seem to understand that the situation is getting worse and yet you still continue to approach it in the same way. Some would call that insanity."

Mercer offered a weak smile, "You have to be crazy to be a cop in this town, Sam"

"I don't know what else to tell you. I know there needs to be change, that's what I'm doing. Their next step are agents in our police force, it's only natural that we adapt and infiltrate them now" Mercer sighed, "I need to go. This is going nowhere, you're up on some high horse, showing the know-nothing city cop how things should go and that everything, everything he's tried to do is a failure. If I wanted to be talked to like that, Ida stayed with my ex"

"I know there needs to be change, that's what I'm doing."

"Escalating the same old failed plans isn't change."

"If I wanted to be talked to like that, Ida stayed with my ex"

"He sounds like a smart fellow." Sam looked Sean in the eye one last time. "You can come with me if you want. I'll show you what does work." Then she shook her head. "I don't suppose I'll ever see you alive again, will I?"

"I think we should cut the prices that the Marcello's were demanding in return for protection. If we can undercut our Rival Protection Rings by enough of a margin, then we can 'gently' persuade the People over to our side while sucking the lifeblood out of more Rivals."

“I have the authority to say 5 years at no cost, then 5 years at 10% of what the Marcello’s asked, then a regular price of only 50% of what they asked.” Ariel replied “And you keep everything, we ask for nothing. And that first five we pay you. And those little businesses get any and all help to be come bigger and more prosperous – they need a loan we front it to them, they need help firing the best we front them the fees to hire a good head hunter agency. They need better bennies to get better staff, we front them the money to get good insurance and such. Robust, healthy businesses, make more profits, and our helping hands will discretely become known, thus leading to more people who want their business to work with us – and all these legit little businesses are good for the city, and thus us.”

“That leader who will just sit and huff and puff, Mano will want his organization either destroyed if they have no quality, or absorbed in to yours if they have anything worth keeping. How ever he’ want you to compile a complete dossier on every one in that organization. There are some… habits and predilections he and Silk will not tolerate. Random violence, pedophiles, rapists, any one who sells – or worse – uses kids to sell, transport or distribute. If there are any like that in the Marcellos, or this other group you need to see that they buy some swamp land.” Ariel looked adamant.

And a party will be most welcome. Since I’m to be your aide at the moment want me to begin setting it up? I’ll Lease the four top penthouses – at the Mandanarin Oriental -one for you, one for silk, one for Mano and the fourth just incase, for after dinner meetings and such, and the Azul Restraunt for the dinner party.” The Mandarin Oriental, the highest rated, most exclusive hotel in all of New Verona. Both the hotel and the restaurant were legendary and worth every penny of the prices they charged. “

"That is an exceptional plan," I permitted myself a smile at the thought of squeezing the business out of those Bloodsucking sharks. I had known how to do it anyway but with the Kane's plan it was even easier. With a little bit of cash, I knew I could have the entire Protection Sector of this area under our...my control within a little time. The Kanes were proving themselves to be shrewd business minds as well and it wouldn't take long to get the Betting Shops up and running, especially when the counterfits starting rolling off the press.

"With a little monetary assistance, I can have the wheat from the chaff in little to no time, about a month or so for real information, including Police offences and backstory," I knew that the money would pay Cops, it would pay Officials holding bith certificates and it would pay the Base-level troops to cross over to the Kane's Organisation. The most important things had been already noted, I was to find someone who had taken advantage of kids or stepped over the mark, not too difficult a thing to find. Truth be told, I wanted the same thing, to get back at those Bastards who took away a human's only real innocent time. They needed to be taken and...disposed of. I'm sure the right people could be found for the right price.

As we pulled off into the smaller slums of the city, heading for the first business, I nodded to Ariel,
"Yeah thanks, make sure to send an invite to everyone important in City Hall, everyone in the New Verona Vipers," The Local football team, "Everyone in the Planning and Police Departments and, most importantly, tell the Press all about it. They need to know that it's a major rejuvination of a rundown and depressed area and that it's going to make jobs for those without them. Make sure the Cops can't touch it without murdering their own popularity in the press and the public." I smiled as I pulled up at a small rundown terraced house, home of one of the Marcello's former Customers,
"This is the start of the Empire," I gave a sigh in Ariel's direction, "One small step."

"Give me some credit" Mercer rolled his eyes, "I don't let pesky things such as hitmen and drug cartels kill me" Despite it all, he managed to smile, "I'm undercover now, so I can pretty much do whatever I want to further the case" he shrugged his shoulers.

"Give me some credit" Mercer rolled his eyes, "I don't let pesky things such as hitmen and drug cartels kill me"

Sam didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Your naivete is touching," she said, finally. "I've been in places that make New Verona look like a Sunday School, and I expect to die every day, even here. There's always one more idiot with a gun.

"It took me five minutes to spot you. Go back to writing speeding tickets." She took a step forward and leaned the rest of the way to kiss him on the cheek. She ran her fingers through his hair.

"And now, let's try to salvage your cover a little...." She stepped back and slapped him hard across the face.

"Sleep with my sister, will you?" she said in a loud voice. She turned on her heel and bounced out of the restaurant with every eye on her.

It happened so quickly, she moved in, he felt the warmth of her lips ignite his cheek and the fingers slide up the back of his head, through his hair, it was electrifying for a brief moment, he had no idea what her plans were. Then the slap came from nowhere. Seeing as it wasn't expected, it wasn't hard to play it off as being suprised and hurt. It stung hard but not extremely painful. It took him a half second to realize what was going on. All eyes were on them, he could hear someone make a call to him and someone else make a side comment about a lover's quarrel.

He placed a hand to his face, looked at the people. It was near silence in the little courtyard, even the guitar player was slack-jawed. Mercer stormed out after her, "Wait, I can explain!"

Outside of the restaurant Mercer caught up with Sam, "I swear I can explain, you have to believe me" throwing his arms out.

Sam looked at him blankly. "This doesn't work if you won't take no for an answer," she said. She had a flashback to Unibot, to the murder mystery at the Queene estate and Eduard Heir following her into the night. Eduard was likely dead by now.

If men had this inexplicable attraction to her, why didn't any of them respect her enough to listen to her?

"If you're coming with me, let's go," she turned and walked away.

"Do I at least get a chance to know beforehand where I'm goin?" Mercer asked, quickening his step to catch up until he walked right beside her. The sidewalks were crowded. The neon lights of the clubs illuminated everything. Sillouhettes of people went in and out.

"Or do I have to just go with it" He inquired.

"I'm going to Fatatatutti," she said, "like I told you." She wondered if he was really considering it. "We can probably squeeze you in. You'll have to leave the car behind though. It's like a neon target on your back."

The Full House...
12 P.M.


Bruno Barlucchi sat in his office watching the scene that his strip club was stirring. The regulars were coming in and going out some of them dealers that were seeking the Maranzino’s supplies for shipments of drugs and guns that were being imported via the Longshoremen Union connection. The Maranzino’s operation was getting better and better but it would soon be impossible for the cops not to notice the rise of criminal elements in the club.


Bruno sighed and said to his bodyguard, “It is time to begin moving the operation to a more secluded area. I fear one day the feds will start tapping the club for information and drug busts on some of our regulars. I will move to Ovetti’s Voloian Restaurant for all executive decisions.”

Jack Connelly nodded with his shaded face and replied, “Sure thing boss…”

Bruno then added, “I plan to move into the Marcello Operation. Johnny and some of his top guys were blown to kingdom come and the Italians don’t have any sort of leadership to keep them organized. I want you and your muscle to go over to his old rackets and take them over by any means necessary…”

Jack smiled and replied, “If they still have muscle, I should be able to deal with them but if they have specialists do you want Vinny to handle them?”

Bruno thought about this and replied, “Vinny has enough on his plate right now get Jimmy “The Jew” to provide extra muscle for any problems with the Marcello group…”


Jack smiled and said, “Jimmy is one of the most cold hearted and calculating bastards in our group. He does not forget or forgive debts. I would hate to think what he will demand for such a favor as extra muscle and heavy hitters..”

Bruno smiled and replied, “Jimmy will do this favor or he will be sleeping with the fish in the next morning..”


Jack nodded and walked away….


Bruno got up from his desk and headed out of the office towards the door in his black business suite and picked up his black Fedora hat. He smiled and headed downstairs out the door to an awaiting white Limo..

The driver opened the door and promptly got into the car and started up toward the Villa outside of town. Bruno Barlucchi was going home for a few days…

OOC-Jimmy "The Jew"? [facepalm]

As they moved down the sidewalk, pass a line of palm trees, Mercer stopped dead, sighing. "Really?" He said, "I can't go, Sam" his tone became serious.

"I already said my goodbyes," Sam said without looking back.

She wasn't sure what time it was. She probably shouldn't have gone with Mercer in the first place. But the pilot was under strict orders - her orders - to leave without her if necessary.

"C'ya around" Mercer replied, turned and walked the opposite direction. He knew there was no point, he was fooled into believing she might possibly help them but was wrong. He didn't bother to look back but knew she was gone in the crowd already, melting away into a sea of bodies and faces. The only problem was shes a loose end, but he figured she wouldn't say anything. The night added up to a waste of time as it seemed, he kicked a rock across the street and kept walking, nowhere particular, tomorrow he decided, he would call up Dawson and they figure where to go from here, they had a contact, a man they caught dead on drug trafficking but decided to let him slide, just work him as an informant of sorts, a well connected guy who likes his freedom and will stay on the police's good side.

ooc: Busy week or two, somewhat less busy now.

OOC-I'm back

IC-The car was a black Camero, tinted windows and a fake license plate. It rolled up to a house a block away from the meeting point, and two men got out. They entered the house and a few minutes later a trio emerged, wearing nondescript clothing. One carried a jump bag slung over his shoulder. They walked up to Nikarios' house and knocked on the door.

The two men were greeted by a young Greek in a leather jacket (which to experienced eyes didn't really conceal the heat he was packing), who wordlessly ushered them inside, past a few other Greeks gathered around a card table, and into a back room, where Dimitris was waiting to greet the pair.

"My friends, welcome. You are ready to do business?"

OOC-Jimmy "The Jew"? [facepalm]

OOC: Jimmy “the Jew” is not based on his religious preference but his attitude about money. He got that nickname for never forgetting or forgiving a debt. He runs both the Union racket and the Bookmaking operation in Bruno’s outfit. If someone owes him money they would be wise to pay it off as soon as possible before Jimmy’s boys come looking for the deadbeat and send him to the hospital or worse the morgue…

The sound of the engines was familiar and somewhat comforting. Sam climbed up to the flight deck and stood just behind the pilots. "Are we clear?" she asked.

"We're in international airspace for the past three minutes, Captain," the tall, lanky pilot reported.

She reached out her hand and he put a microphone in it. "Riding Hood to Mother Goose. Do you copy, Mother Goose?" She had thought up the codenames herself and she was quite proud of them. "Mother Goose, this is Riding Hood. Do you copy? Over."

"Riding Hood, this is Mother Goose. We copy loud and clear. Over."

The voice sounded young. She didn't know why she had expected Alexander Waverly to respond in person. "Mother Goose, I'm on my way home. Repeat, I'm on my way home. Over."

"Copy that, Riding Hood. Any cargo? Over."

"Mother Goose, I have eighty-seven sacks of mail on board. Repeat, eighty-seven sacks of mail, all in good condition. Over." 'Sacks of mail' was the admittedly less imaginative code for the Fatatatutian refugees in the cargo hold.

"Copy that, Riding Hood. Eighty-seven. Over."

"Better put the coffee on, Mother Goose. They'll be tired and hungry by the time we get home. Over."

"Roger that, Riding Hood. We'll put out the welcome mat."

"Thank you, Mother Goose. Riding Hood signing off. Over and out."

"Mother Goose out."

Sam handed the microphone back to the pilot.

"I thought your buddy might come with you," he said.

Sam smiled faintly. "Not every man on earth is as smitten with me as you are, Lewis."

"Thousands would believe you," he said. "Not me."

"He actually seemed to think I'd help him with his thuggery," she said sadly. "We might be coming back sooner rather than later for his funeral."

"Your wish is my command, oh Captain, my Captain."

Even though she knew that New Verona was behind them, Sam stared out the window at the darkness below them as if she was still seeing it. Goodbye Sean, she said to herself. Take care.

"You can give up at anytime"

"Give up? To You?" Silk returned the mockery full force as she kipped to her feet with undaunted energy. Now it was her turn to catch him as he moved in and used his momentum to take him off balance and toss him across the dojo in a modified hip throw.

Silk had no trouble matching Lobo violence for violence, but she never let it go beyond the level of sparring. Eventually, when both were sweat damp and exhausted she called an end to it. "Thanks Lobo, and keep in contact, I think a major push might be coming up. I know Mano is expanding our grasp more than just a bit, and some might object. Expanding grasps are always so interesting"

That thought brought a smile to her lips as she gave him a last nod, a speaking look up and down the length of his body and headed for her personal locker room. Not looking back she wondered if he'd have the cojones to follow her...
~~~~~~~~

"This is the start of the Empire, One small step."

Ariel laughed and pulled out her cell phone. There were lots of calls to be made. "You do the customer relations, I'll lay the brick work"

Soom she was effeciently working her way past various 'gatekeepers', dropping names where needed, insiders and fast movers, rollers and shakers, to get to the people with the 'authority'.

It did not take long to reach the slums in which the ex-Marcello Businesses were based. As Scarlet pulled up just outside the run down Shop, the Muscle pulling in behind her. She saw that the Owner was just closing for the night, cleaning the broken class. She stepped out and talked to him quietly for a moment, ending with a warm handshake. Scarlet then went and talked to the Muscle in the car behind them. She settled back into her Thunderbird and drifted off into the slums towards the next business. Once they had been sorted out, all having been attacked. She talked with all, laying down the Kane's terms before heading back towards their compound, mission complete for the day, switching on the headlights in the dimming daylight.

"I need you to arrange Guards for all the Businesses I visited today," She told Ariel, "And I need a meeting with a man called 'John Victor' who lives south of the main business." She stated, "If I can assimiliate his gang, then it will do our protection job for us." She smiled as she pulled into the Kane Compound, though the gates and towards her mansion. She suppressed a yawn,
"It's been a long day," She sighed, "Must success with your Phonecalls?" She asked.

The two men were greeted by a young Greek in a leather jacket (which to experienced eyes didn't really conceal the heat he was packing), who wordlessly ushered them inside, past a few other Greeks gathered around a card table, and into a back room, where Dimitris was waiting to greet the pair.

"My friends, welcome. You are ready to do business?"

"Yeah, we're ready." The man with the jump bag put it down on the table, (I am going to assume there is a table) allowing Dimitris to see its contents.

Lobo wiped the sweat from his brow. His chest rose and fell quickly, trying to calm itself down as sweat coated his body in a desperate attempt to cool down. The adrenaline still pumped but he took deep breaths. He kept in mind that a certain Asian syndicate needed a lesson taught, a brutal one which he would personally deliver to them like a horseman of the apocalypse.

He watched her walk off into the locker room. He stood there alone in the dojo for a brief moment. After that moment and his mind already made up, he trudge off into the locker room. His animal eyes locked on her and he placed a hand up against the locker, extending it out, inches away from her as if to block her, "You can't be done with your workout already?" his lips curled into a smile.

--------------------

Mercer caught maybe three hours of sleep before calling up Dawson who admitted to getting around the same amount of rest. Their mutual friend, a man by the name of Lance Downey after some arm twisting over the phone, agreed to meet all of them at his penthouse in Leeward, a more upscale section of town, just across from the business district. The building was aptly named Leeward Estates, a building which rocketed towards the sun, white washed with rows of windows. Big money lived there, and Lance Downey was big money. Lance was a drug trafficker, independent in a way, more or less a middleman. But to anyone who asked, he was top dog, that is anyone not important or if they were a cute lady. He was in his late thirties, a descent looking guy but not overly, he was starting to develop a stomach, from the high living. Mercer and Dawson pinned him on a charge but decided to keep it on the back burner or save for a rainy day whenever the day came that Lance wasn't serving their purposes anymore.

He sat on a white leather sofa, lounging in shorts and a bathrob, sipping a Jack and Coke. Ramirez and Michaels stood behind him, Dawson and Mercer sat infront of him. After a few years, Lance knew the drill. Despite being a criminal, he was reliable mainly due to the fact he wanted to avoid any and all jail time.

"Alright Lance" Mercer said, clapping his hands together as he leaned forward, "We want you to introduce us to Dimitri Adenski"

Lance sat motionless for a moment then his face contorted to one that showed disbelief and mockery, "You want me to introduce you guys to Adenski?! Fine, fine-we can all go to some swanky joint on Waterside" his laughs were just that, his and his only. Sensing the cops were not in a light-hearted mood he quieted down.

"I'm sure he has things lined up for you to do, right?" Dawson interjected, Lance nodded, "Tell him that things are getting a little hot lately, what with us seizing that shipment last week and all. So, you suggest some new players, people with fresh faces and no records here in New Verona"

"Tell him that we're jack's of all trade" Mercer added, "That we can get cars, move stuff, rid him of problems, the works"

Lance swallowed hard, "That sounds all too good to be true"

"You need to just work your magic, Lance" Mercer replied, leaning back, We have faith in you. You haven't let us down and we haven't let you down"

"You can't be done with your workout already?"

"Oh I don't know...you look about well done already." Turning to face him Silk stepped close to him. Letting her hands tug the hem of his tee upwards and off of his sweat soaked body, she eyed him appreciatively taking in the well toned muscles of chest and abs. "hmmm you look as nice as you felt."

Turning her back to him she stripped of her own sweat soaked tank top and atheletic bra in one swift move. Then her fingers tore off the band holding her hair in a thick poney tail and it fell loose, tumbling past her waist. Sliding her gym shorts down, over flaring hips to let them fall to her ankles then be kicked aside. Turning back to Lobo as her hands rant through her hair turning it into a curtain over her breast she looked up at him from under her eye lashes.

"Three things. One you have too much on. Two we're both too hot and sweaty. Three ..." She put her arms about his neck, her body moving in very interesting ways against his and whispered in his ear. " I hope you are good at lasting a very, very long time."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Must success with your Phonecalls?"

Ariel stretched as she stepped out of the car and nodded. "Yes, Thursday, three weeks from now." Give the last minute nature, managing to secure a Thursday - the day of non weekend choice for society parties spoke volumes of the pull that the Kanes had established so far.

"The invitations will be printed overnight, addressed in the morning and go out in the afternoon mail for some, formally hand delivered for others. And the word will be discretely spread out tonight that this is the party to be seen at." That took having the ears of certain specific socialites - people who didn't have their names attached to anything 'unsavory', but were willing to lend their established iconography to those not as 'established' as they were.

"Limiting it to two hundred will make it even more exclusive. Would you like to make this a focal event? Say perhaps your announcing that your new magazine will be making a sizeable donation to a local beloved charity? Or would you prefer to keep this purely social?" Ariel questioned. "Oh and please do come and have dinner with the family, I know Mano would like to hear how your day has gone. Though if you'd rather not I know that the house keepers stocked your fridge and pantry today."

"An excellent idea, you've done well," I nodded and complimented, pleased that Ariel was proving to be such an effecient Organiser, "A charitable donation would certainly help the image of the new development. If possible, I want as many high-end Reporters as possible to be there, I want there to be a formal presentation to highlight how this development will benefit the local community and also outline the potential developments of these other businesses the Marcellos used to own. Their demise can't go unnoticed for long, so I want a couple of Sentries to stand by in case someone tries to rough them up. Once I have assimiliated the local gang, they can do the legwork while the Kanes sit back and watch the green roll in." I thought for a moment on Ariel's proposition, weighing up the two potential options before giving my answer
"Seeing as I shall be dining alone otherwise, I would be delighted to the join the Kanes for dinner. I'm sure he will be pleased with our progress so far." In truth, I was interested in getting to know more about my new Employer. I headed towards my new home,
"I shall get changed for dinner, shall it be formal, or informal?" I asked, wondering what of my clothes should I be wearing to meet the 'boss' so to speak.

Silk wasted no time in relieving the both of them of most garments. She was single minded and they both shared the same thought track at this instant. Her nimble and articulate hands caressed the contours of his body, an electric current eminated from those fingertips through his whole body, spidering across every muscle and fiber to his brain. They were all alone, just them and their lust. The words she spoke lingered in the air, surrounding his head.

In one fluid motion his hand wrapped around the back of her head and pulled her to his lips kissing them hard, he smirked, "Done? I haven't even started yet"

Lobo took her by the hand into the showers and turned them on, water cascading down, spattering against the clean tile floor, "We can stat by taking a shower, senorita" his lips curled once more into that preditorial smile.

-------------------

Mercer handed the phone down to Lance, who reluctantly took it and dialed a number. Dimitri Adenski prided himself in careful operations. There were times to use the sledgehammer, such as Lobo, then more subtle approaches. Many contacts were given a special number to a pager. In todays day and age, pagers are a thing of the eighties and early ninties but they served their purposes perfectly. They page him, he uses a simple prepaid phone that no one knows about, it never sees the outside of his pocket for more than a minute and then only then when he's secluded or with people he trusted.

Lance had the number memorized, he explained the process before he dialed the number. Michaels jotted down some notes for a rainy day. Already they were figuring out some of the communications for the network.

"Dimitri, it's lance-how ya doin'?...yeah, I understand but this pertains to that last thing we talked about...I'll wait..." Lance muffed the phone to his chest, and in a low whisper told the detectives that Adenski was turning up some opera music.

The four detectives exchanged a mixture of looks.

"...Yeah, I'm still here...Listen, I've been gettin to thinking that we may need some fresh ideas to help with our project...Yeah, I understand but you see things are getting heavy and we need new faces, people who can bring fresh ideas to the table, and people who aren't known around here...uh-huh...yeah...Sure, sure...I'll send you the info..." Lance's face turned a bit grim, "Got it"

Lance carefully set the phone down and drew a deep, thoughtful breath, "I'm going to send him your info in a few minutes, he wants to have you all checked out. He says he'll kill me if there's anything out of place so for your skins' and mine, I hope you did some good work with those identities"

"No problem, Lance" Mercer replied, patting him on the back, You did good, and dont think we don't forget''

"We can stat by taking a shower, senorita"

"I love being wet and wild" Was Silks reply.

Silk and Lobo has spent several hours trying to wear one another out. It was a well played match - they were both carnal and confident -Silk proving to be a no holds barred, uninhibited, inventive and playful lover who liked giving as much as getting.

Eventually after they woke from a nap in the mid after noon, she sent him on his way "I don't, won't, can't tie myself to anyone, but you're welcome for a rematch Lobo." Before he left she claimed his lips once again with another of her lightning strike kisses and went to shower. Shortly she sent for her ladies maid to do her hair, readying her for an evening of high profile partying. Once the hair was done then the makeup artist arrived. Silk liked her luxuries, even though she wwa perfectly capable of doing it all herself.

I shall get changed for dinner, shall it be formal, or informal?"


"Depends, after dinner we're going to be out making the rounds tonight - need to see and be seen. I know you are invited but it's not mandatory, and it won't be an insult if you want to keep your connection with us low profile for a bit longer." Ariel replied. "If you do decide to come along it should be the most upscale club wear you have."

"Actually Silk's hitting the club circuit with out me, at least at first, tonight. I'm going to be meeting someone on business. Scarlet, I'd like you to go with me. He's someone I think you should make the acquaintance of." I broke in as I came down the front steps of the 'pittance' that housed Scarlet's new residence. “Lance broke his leg early this afternoon, he’s going to be in the hospital for a couple of days.” He mentioned the senior security officer that had let Scarlet in this morning “He was doing an exercise run on the Unmentionable and missed a piling to piling leap.” I explained a little further. Fortunately there was one hospital in New Verona that I trusted. I would have hated to flying back to Tanaara. “But that leaves needing someone our acquaintance knows, and that’s me.”

I looked over at Scarlet and smiled “Just comfortable causal wear.”

Lobo left the estate, exhausted but satisfied. He pulled out of the gate of their vast estate as the sun began it's slow descent towards the horizon. It was a very interest ing and hot afternoon for him as he witnessed how graceful and ravaging she was in bed, a unique mixture. Her words lingered for a moment. That attitude suited him just fine. For a man like him, certain emotions were dangerous while ones needed nurturing and care. Love was not one of those, it makes a man weak and clouds his judgement. The thought of another work-out excited him but after today, he needed some rest. But sadly, there was no rest for a man such as him, business needed attending, his kind of business.

-------------------

The four detectives remained at Lance's suite for a few hours, waiting for Adenski to call back. Lance forwarded an encrypted email with their identities, social security numbers, backrounds, eveything. Their new lies were well orchestrated and engineered lies, this would be the ultimate test. Michaels and Ramirez remained at the bar. Dawson flipped through the bid screen plasma screen tv in the spacious living room. Mercer stood at the balcony, allowing the breeze to blow against his face. His eyes lingered to the sky for a moment but snapped back to reality when the phone rang. They gathered around Lance whos hand hung over the phone, almost afriad to touch it.

Finally, Lance picked up the phone, "Hello?...yeah...uh-huh...yeah...I told you, man...I'll get in contact with them...Believe me, they're good...alright..."

"The verdict?" Mercer asked

Lance looked up, "You guys are good, you really are criminals" he grinned

Mercer smiled, "Oh yeah, just to remember: You need to memorize all this stuff incase he asks you personally, which I'm sure he will. Our names backstories, you're in this just as much as us"

"Why me? Why do you guys always do this to me?"

"Because you have the connections" Mercer replied, "But we know you will do fine"

"Of course, Mister Kane," I smiled and nodded my head slightly as I headed into my new home, clothes already deposited there for my selection. Wear something casual yet comfortable...that summed my wardrobe up perfectly. I would have hated to rush into town to buy a dress for this dinner as my only, tattered old one was not for wearing. It was for memories. I know, I keep a lot of things for memories, but I always had trouble letting go. I even have my first tooth that fell out. No Fairy coming to my bedside, that was for sure. I looked over my clothes, quickly picking out a couple of clothes that would suit the job nicely. It took a little longer before I re emerged on the front step where Kane and Ariel waited. I knew my clothes were flaunty and that it would draw eyes towards my figure but it would give them much excitment beyond their own imagination. In itself, it would be enough of a weapon to me.

My clothes were simple, a thin, cream, deep v-necked top with dark blue jeans and simple, yet functional high-heels. The clothes were tempting, teasing yet also concealing. I had applied just enough makeup to enchance my features but not enough to spoil them. My long, full, red hair tumbled down to the small of my back, shining in the evening sun. I had my knife hidden out of sight.
"This Contact will be trustworthy?" She asked, knowing that Mano would not have picked someone who was a potential risk but at the same time, it helped to alleviate my own worries on the subject.

"I'm having a spot of trouble finding our mutual friend from The Full House" Gerard said as he sipped a glass of wine.

Adenski prowled around outside along the line of the pool. He stared into the crystal clear water, back at himself, "This is a problem. The Kane's want him implicated and out of the picture"

Gerard set the glass down, "I can just raise it to the ground without him being fingered for it, if this is a property issue"

"No, Mano gave me strict guidelines, Vinny must be implicated in it or else it won't work. Are you sure you can't locate him?" Adenski asked, turning away from the pool.

"I managed upon him during the hit at the church yesterday, I'm sure you heard" Gerard replied, "But I lost him after that, he is constantly moving and I have yet to even know where he sleeps"

"Hmm, we'll have to think of something. If we can't find him, then maybe I can talk to talk to the Kane's and see if there is something else" Adenski sighed, his broad shoulders easing down.

After some small talk, Adenski addressed another thing, "An associate of mine, Lance Downey is coming to me with new help. I did a backround check and they seem legit. The timing is off though. All their credentials and stories check out but something doesnt seem right. I want you to do another one, incase I missed anything"

Gerard stood up and finished off the glass, "I'll do my best. Where will you be?"

"I am going to the Kanes residence for dinner, they have a new assocuate, one I have not yet met but they tell me she is quite a find" Adenski returned, looking away.

OOC: I thought my reply had posted, apparently not...Le sigh!

"This Contact will be trustworthy?"

"I trust the Fixer with my life. But, first, Dimitri Adenski is coming to dinner. He is another who has earned an honored place at my table. Your business and his will not intersect save as you two mutually chose to. He is experienced and well connected but your business is yours to run, to rise and fall on your own merits" I said as I escorted her up to my prefered roost, the roof top terrace where we had met this morning.

Ariel had left to go get ready for the nights festivities with Silk, who would be joing us shortly.

Dinner would be served elsewhere, but for the moment twilight should be greeted with drinks and a view of the last light of the day.

As I seated her I noticed a set of headlights at the security check point. It seems that Adenski had arrived.

"Scarlet what would you care to drink?" I motioned the discretely attentive staffer over to get her order, mine was already known.

I'm nodded in appreciation, glad that Mano had confirmed what I had already thought. I looked to him in interest, then at the Waiter,
"Normally I forgoe the use of alcohol, but as it's such a beautiful sunset," I flashed a smile at Mano, "And this is a beautiful location, I think I shall have a small martini thank you." I sighed in happiness and looked out. I was not one to pretend that my life had turned out as I had hoped and, I had done more than enough things in my life that I was not proud of, now though, things seemed to be looking up.
I turned to look at Ademski's car, smiling slightly,
"I shall look forward to meeting him." I said.

"Yeah, we're ready." The man with the jump bag put it down on the table, (I am going to assume there is a table) allowing Dimitris to see its contents.


"One hundred and ninety thousand, all in clean money, for down payment. The balance will be transferred to Lou's accounts when we finish weighing this out. I'm sure you know Louie is always good for payment."

Dimitris nodded after inspecting the contents, and called another man in who weighed the drugs out. That taken care of, he reached under the table, bringing out a simple-looking leather case which he passed over to the two men. It held quite a large number of bills.

"When you get back to Lou, tell him Louie would like a word with him in person whenever he's got time. Privately like."

Dimitris smiled, not in a terribly friendly way but at least making the effort.

"He'll be at the Island Club this Tuesday evening if Lou can find time. Of course we don't like to presume on your time."

Adenski stepped out of his car, watching the wanning sun set off in the distance and removed his sunglasses. He wore a black suit with a white collared shirt, no tie. He wasnt a horribly flashy man but did dress when the occasion called for it. He looked business oriented but still with the taste for a night out. He nodded to a valet who dilligently took the keys from him.

He made his way up the stairs and through the open door, "Mr.Kane, it is a pleasure to be invited tonight at your home" he greeted with a hearty handshake and as warm a smile as one such as himself could muster.

Then his attention turned to Scarlet, "It is also a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr.kane spoke highly of you, I am Dimitri"

"Dimitri let me introduce Miss Scarlet Marlow, an new but honored asssociate." I said as I shook Dimitri's had and welcomed him to the roof top over look. "Scarlet, as I said Dimitri is a valued friend and I trust him. He might prove helpful to your enterprizes, and Dimitri, she will be producing a most upscale magazine. It might not hurt to have ads appear there - should you decide that such advertizing is suitable to your efforts."

I wanted to make sure both knew that they were partners with me, not servants, and that I valued their independance, insights and council.

MY bartender knew Adenski's preferances in the way of drink and had a glass set out for him without being told.

I flashed a smile as I was introduced, offering a small bow of respect to Dimitri, feeling the cool air touching the flesh at the bottom of my back as the top slide forward with my arching shoulders. I smiled, but truthfully, I was a bit surprised. He looked like some sort of Common Thug, a Drug Dealer, but if he was a respected Associate of Manos Kane, then I guess he could be trusted as far as anyone here, which wasn't far at all.

"Charmed to meet you, Mister Dimitri and I would be delighted to place your bar in prime Advertising space for a fraction of the cost. We are all friends here." I smiled, giving a favour, always meant one owed a favour and Dimitri's club could do with the flooding it would get once it appeared in the hottest magazine in town.

"Thank you very much for the offer, I will have to take you up on that" Dimitri replied in turn, he smoothed out his tie and took a drink from the bartender who dutifully melted away without a noise, just a mere nod.

From everything the Kanes have told him about Ms.Marlow, she has what it takes to turn their business into a legitimate one. Of course they had numerous businesses and associations and legit sources of cash flow, but he looked forward to a day where he didn't have to fear a raid by the police or be dragged into another senseless war with a rival drug cartel. He worked steadily to make that dream a reality but some of their associates, he could not care for. One being Lobo, a single minded monster who will never live past thirty at the rate he's going. Loose cannons like him needlessly endanger their enterprise.

"There is another matter I must speak to you about, at some point" Dimitri frowned, "It appears as though business never ends, Mr.Kane"

"It appears as though business never ends, Mr.Kane"

"That is true, but at least we can take vacations." I chuckled "Then please Dimitri, come walk with me, some Imperial Koi arrived today, directly from Japan, and I have not yet seen them."

I did not share everything, and besides Silk had just shown up, she and Scarlet could get to know one another. Though that might well be like letting a pair of mambas loose to make friends with one another.

I gave Silk a hug and whispered in her ear "Play Nice!" and the look she gave me spoke volumes.

Silk smilled politely enough to Adenski "Good evening Adenski, that suit suits you well" She nodded approvingly and acepted the drink the bartender brought over to her. "Ariel and I will end up at Fever later, though I don't know how many we'll have in tow with us." She was oddly thoughtfull about such things.

"Silk this is Scarlet Marlow, Scarlet this is my sister Silk" I held my breath as as there was not an immediate exchange of gun fire the two might actually get along.

Silk looked Scarelt up and down and moved over to shake her hand "Nice outfit."

I looked at Adenski and tipped my head, leaving the roof top terrace to the ladies fot the moment. As the elevator whisked the pair of us down to ground level.

"So what is proving to be a problem?"

I looked up and down Silk as she approached, sizing up my potential Opponent as she offered her hand. I smiled at her, wondering if this really was the muscle of the Manos' Organisation. She looked no more threatening than a mouse and no stronger than a twig. But then I knew that appearances could be disceiving. Even look at myself.
I smiled in recognition of her Important, taking the offered hand and shaking it firmly, but not enough to crush her hand,
"Thank you," I said easily, looking her up and down again, "You're not looking so bad yourself Ms. Manos, I understand you are the Muscle behind Los Dos Muertes." I smiled to her again, brushing a little strand of deep, red hair from my eyes.

Adenski fell in stride with Mano. They walked out of earshot of any unwanted ears. The police could in no way have the place tapped, Mano spent probably more than he did on counter surveillance.

"It's not so much as a problem as a possible solution" Adenski started, "Lance Downey phoned me about bringing in some new faces after that debacle with Rico Calderon trying to sell us that shipment the police nabbed. He vouches for these guys. I did a backround track and had another associate do one as well, one or two did small stretches for small things but they appear to be jack of all trades if I am using the expression correct? I just want to bring this to your attention and see if you will permit them. I am cautious and the check was properly done, so I say green light, you?"

OOC: Kul, tg has been sent...

Organizations, so often, never noticed that their most supposedly private data was regularly seen by low paid, unappreciated minions who had little to no loyalty to the jobs they toiled at. And what could be found on the web now days by those skilled enough and unscrupulous enough? What should be promoting heart failure in government organizations world wide. Most of those organizations just seemed to shrug their shoulders, knowing that they were always going to be two or three steps behind. But it’s not as if they didn’t give it the old college try – it’s just that most of the really skilled computer wizards liked money and appreciation over ‘the country needs you’. And Mano happily paid for the best, it was an expense he never begrudged.

Mano also saw that those underappreciated employees had every chance to earn some much welcomed pocket money in the most discrete manner possible…
And those under appreciated, and sometimes desperate for money clerks and data entry specialists also included some within the New Verona police department, and one of them happened to notice something odd as she went in to update the active roster files – about the dullest portion of her job duties., and decided to double check something she had stumbled over at lunch.

“ name Tyler… thin air…undercover” One table over…

That had made Mary’s ears perk up and the dumpy woman sat eating her Cuban style tamales with what appeared to be complete interest, but in reality she was listening intently – the one thing she felt she had going for her was her excellent hearing “Judge is fucking … You were a cop …as a cop… I've been…years… no deal…country… That's my take … I wish I…name… Sean Mercer. …detective … NVPD. …nothing and … take completely” She was absolutely certain that she had heard this over the din at Lla Casa de Havana last night. But according to the roster list there was no Sean Mercer.

She looked up and thought about the car repairs she needed so badly, and remembered her friend, Sue, who’s mother had gotten the chemo she needed after Sue had made one discrete phone call. Mary dug through her purse to find the napkin with the number. It was at the very bottom of that over filled handbag, but the writing was still legible.

Mary called that number after she got off work, on her way home from a payphone at the bodega where she never shopped but passed by every day. She would have a new car if she could, and yes the information would earn her that, and more.

And so it was passed up the line…

I just want to bring this to your attention and see if you will permit them. I am cautious and the check was properly done, so I say green light, you?"

Mano’s eyes practically glowed and his grin was disturbingly feral "And what are these good men’s names?” But oddly it didn’t have the feel of a question, but as if he already knew the answer

Adenski couldnt help but smile and let out a short laugh, "You already know their names, I'm sure but I'll read them off to you". I recollected his thoughts, Adenski was quite able when it came to remembering names, dates, places, all important attributes, "Tyler Henson, Ian Matthis, Maria Ramirez, and D'Angelo Michaels. I also have a copy of the stuff I pulled on them if you want to see what I and my other associate know"

"You're not looking so bad yourself Ms. Manos, I understand you are the Muscle behind Los Dos Muertes." I

"It's Ms. Kane, I'm not my brothers property." Silk (http://www.atddm.com/sam.jpg) snapped, taking an istant dislike to the woman, after she had tried to be nice. "And I am the head the action arm of our organization. Muscle is crude, implies a lack of brains, intelligence - and those I definitely do not lack." Silk's hazel green eyes were snapping but she politely thanked the bar tender who refilled her glass.

Shaking back the mane of rich brunette hair that tumbled in bedroom antic's disarray she looked Scarlet over and sniffed under her breath. While she may have only been five foot ten to Manos six two, she was not a bird boned anorexia bodied waif. She weighted one hundred and fifty pounds of feminine allure with firm muscle under those lush curves

"My broher may have given you wide lattitude, but all security goes through me - and that includes vetting new personell. So don't forget to keep me updated. Keeping me out of the loop would not be...intelligent."

She looked over to where Ariel had just arrived and nodded approvingly of the younger woman's outfit. "'Very good. Now it's time to go down for dinner. Ms. Marlow I understand you'll be going with Mano later. Tell my brother to bring you around to the clubs after. There are more that you need to meet than the Fixer and Adenski." Oh it was a put down alright and Silk didn't even try to be subtle about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had crouched down to take a better look at the magnificent koi leisurely finning it's way agbout the lilly pad strewn pond, then stood straightening my immuclate slacks as I did so.

"Tyler Henson, Ian Matthis, Maria Ramirez, and D'Angelo Michaels. I also have a copy of the stuff I pulled on them if you want to see what I and my other associate know"

"Good and yes coordinating the research is always the safest way." I did not say more, for I did not share everything. "I may have use for them."

I looked once more down at the large gold and white fish and smiled my secretive smile. "So how is the work on removing that annoyance going? I understand they were so un...reasonable as to gun down a priest in public"

Adenski should well understand which particulare annoyance I spoke of. I might be an agnostic, but one should never air ones religious differences in public, even if one was trying to make it look like a rival organization had done it. Their main hit man, being a relative of the head of the organization, was too known for the ruse to have worked. While it might have fooled the media for a few hours, it certainly would not have put the police on the wrong trail.

So between Adenski's hot approach and the police soon to be baying after them, it ws a delightful pox upon one of our enemies.

I smiled at Silk as she left, kicking myself inwardly for my slip of the tongue, way to start of a business relationship. Regardless, I nodded in greeting to Ariel before turning my attention back to Silk, bowing my head slightly as a sign of apology,
"I am most sorry for my slip of the tongue Ms. Kane, no offence was intended. Of course all Security details shall be ran by you first before any move is made. In fact, I would like to discuss with you at some point in the near future, the Protection ring that I have already laid the foundations to. I would value your advice on such a matter." Way to suck up, I thought to myself, but then it had never done anyone any harm and I needed to make up for my cock up earlier.

What did I think of Silk Kane? I wasn't sure yet. She was obviously much less diplomatically aligned than her brother, less smooth in her ways of dealing with people, yet it was obvious that she could also charm with the best of them and I knew that I would need to stay on her good side if possible. There was something so disarming about her. Even her cut as we headed for dinner did not dent my thoughts. I had heard and been called much worse in my time.

"I'd rather you disliked me honestly Scarlett, not tried to suck up to me, it's not your native style and it does not suit you at all." Silk replied with brutal honesty.

"Now that we understand that we're never going to be Maid of Honor at one another’s weddings, we still might do well on girl’s nights outs. And I am serious about having Mano bring you on rounds. The greasers and wheezers need to know that you've stepped up, and as publicly as possible."

Silk lead the way to a back patio where an informal dining setting awaited them. The breeze off of the ocean kept any insects away and cooled the remnants of the days heat, while dozens of candles, protected from that breeze by gleaming glass hurricane chimneys, lit the spacious patio.

A chef stood by the grill of the outdoor kitchen, checking on steaks, skewered shrimp and chicken with rosemary. Other staff finished preparations on a light and leafy ceaser salad and laid out freshly poured cut crystal tumblers of minted tea.

The immense table would hold sixteen or so and many were already there. Silk waved Scarlet to a place at the left hand of the end seat - that was obviously reserved to Mano. The one to the right was for Adenksi, and Silk took the end seat at the far end, introducing those already arrived to Scarlet as she did so.

Ariel, Giselle, Ian, and Marcus - collectively Mano and Silk's aides, sitting as a group and lounging back giving Scarlett assessing but yet friendly looks

Trotter and Prada - German and Italian looking respectively -the computer specialists, they barely looked up from the arcane conversation they were engaged in over a 22 inch screened laptop. Though the slight and effeminate Prada paused long enough to giggle "No I don't make or wear the shoes, but I am a devil with a keyboard."

Virgil, cafe au lait skin unweathered despite years in the fields of various militaries and second in charge to the hospitalized Lance, who handed her a small charm to add to her key ring "It's a personal lo-jack, should you find that someone unpleasant wants to take you off course" he said in a soft, odd accent.

Eve, elfin with white blonde hair over a smooth dark chocolate complexion and beside her sat a huge dog that looked to weigh as much as she did. She smiled as Tobruk politely offered an immense paw to be shaken. "We have several Ovcharka's looking for people, they make the best bodyguards...and sometimes their table manners are better"

That brought a gale of laughter all around. Every one seemed very comfortable and familiar with one another.

Imiko, just as tiny, in an informal Japanese kimono, bowing deeply almond eyes alight as she looked Scarlet over "She keeps us all running, both as our healer, health nut and physical fitness guru"

Her husband Hideo, the family's gunsmith and armorer. If it's a weapon he knows about it. As tall as his wife was small he merely bowed and smiled enigmatically as he took a seat.

I smiled as I was introduced to the various peoples around the table, physically taking note of each as I was introduced. I nodded where I was meant to nod, smiling where I was meant to smile, laughing where I was meant to laugh. I even smiled as I settled down on hunches to shake the offered paw of the Dog. I'd always had a thing for Dogs and the trick of this one brought an expression of genuine pleasure to my face as I ran my hand through his fur. However, I quickly regained my composure and stood again, feeling a slight red tone touch my cheeks as the others watched me take my seat at the table. Manos and Adenski were not yet back from their talk so I simply sat and drank my tea as the conversation buzzed around me. The others were talking and Silk was sitting at the other end of the table. For the moment though, I was happy to sit in my own thoughts, wondering about my new company.

As far as Silk went, I was not so sure about wither I liked her or not. She was brutally honest, that much was sure, though despite her honesty, she was also easy to get along with. For the moment, that was all I thought about as I turned to Virgil, who was sitting beside me and had given me the addition to my keyring, already connected,
"How do you know the Kanes?" My curiousity was burning brightly at the shroud of mystery that engulfed him and I could not contain myself.

"How do you know the Kanes?"

Virgil chuckled "I've known Kane all my life. We grew up in the same orphanages, served together."

He then changed the subject, "So how did you end up here?"

I recognised the changing of subject and smiled faintly at it, understanding that sometimes someone didn't want intrusion into their private lives. I understood that this was one of those times. I was going to have to reply in kind though, as my life was my own and not for sharing. It was one of the few things I had to myself,
I took a breath, "I am here now because, a lot like life itself, things just didn't go my way." I offered a fake smile for him, but my thoughts were much further away than that. He wasn't finding much more, so I too, changed the subject,
"So what have the Kanes been up to before coming to New Verona?" I asked, curiously as to their credientials prior to this adventure. I was not after personal details, only business facts.

"So what have the Kanes been up to before coming to New Verona?"

Virgil smirked "Doing what Kane does best. Finds a mess and takes control of it, fixes it and makes sure that it runs smoothly"

"With a profit for themselves?" I added smoothly, a smile crossing my face as I indicating around me, "It takes a lot of money to keep a place like this running...even if it was purchased for it's full potential." I smiled again, people had said once that I had a charming smile. I didn't know if that was true, but it seemed to get things done when I needed it to.

"Always at a profit, but by their methods - they'll forgo any profit if it means going against their ethics." Virgil aid adamantly "And yes this is one expensice operation, but sometimes it takes spending money to make money. They don't do by half measures, thats for certain."

"That, I am beginning to understand for myself," I chuckled at all that I had seen and done so far on the behalf of my parent organisation. Then again, I had expected it to be a bit full on. My own research into the Kane's organisation had suggested that they did not do things in bits and pieces but favoured a full on approach, but discreet, that was the main thing. I was going to enjoy working for them and I was going to enjoy my time as a Don of sorts over my own little Crime Empire.