Smooth and sleek, her body shines as I rub the soft cloth down her sides. The pearl grips shimmer in the light. Her beauty and elegance are rivaled only by her dangerous precision. I keep her close to me at all times. Handed down from father to son, she keeps me safe and makes easy work of the lives I take. Tonight will be no exception. Cocked and ready to go, I place my Colt 1911 in my side holster and go over the instructions I received earlier. Coming to the realization tonight was not going to be an easy night.

Anticipation for the night’s events were causing my nerves to rattle, mocking the rattling windshield. A violent thunderstorm swept through town and shook the neighborhood each time lightning streaked across the clouds. Just past midnight and Vincent had not shown up. Over and over I checked the address and each time proved to be a waste. The address always matched. The café was nothing more than old weathered red brick. Just inside, two small Fichus trees were visible; they looked withered and hardly taken care of, offering a fair representation of the building itself. The décor was plain and unrevealing. Had I not been told where to go, I would have never guessed this was Italian owned.

Two doors down, I noticed a figure stepping into the rain. He quickly pulled the collar of his overcoat close to his face. I could hear him swear as the wind ripped his hat off his head and sent him stumbling after it. He hurried to the car as fast as the wind would allow and seemed to leap in as he got the door open.

 “About damn time you showed up!, I was about to head out. I was not planning on making this an all-night affair.” I said this with the most aggravated look I could muster knowing Vincent would be all too apologetic for his tardiness.

“Dutch, I’m sorry. The wife wouldn’t get off my back. Every time I went for my coat, she either had some chore she needed me to do or another question she wanted answered; you know how it is.” The hopeful look on Vincent’s face made it clear he was looking for me to accept and dismiss his tardiness. Although toying with him was fun, we had a job to get done. It was getting late and I hadn’t planned on moonlighting tonight.

Vincent Cafaro, also known as “Fish”, was a no name drunk always finding his way into trouble; this time his drinking got the best of him and loosened his lips about certain information. This information fell into the hands of a rat named Sammy “G” Gingello. Seems Sammy got himself pinched for selling stolen goods off a box truck. Once the coppers had him alone, he loosened his tongue - the secrets he kept flowed like the Chicago River.

Once Sammy was released he went straight into hiding. Word was he was holed up with some dame he met. Vincent struck a deal to get himself out of trouble.

His job was simple. Take me to Sammy, and help me dispose of the body afterward. Little did he know I was informed to tie, all loose ends.

“How much longer before we get there?” I asked.

“Not far now, actually right around the next bend hang a left, he’s in the second house on the right. How exactly are we going to do this? I mean, what should I say?” He cautiously asked.

“Vincent, calm your nerves.  We are going to do this quick and easy. Let him know you want to talk outside where the dame can’t hear. I’ll handle the rest” I replied reassuringly.

“Outside? Do you not realize it’s raining? Why the hell would he come outside?” As if to push his point further, a gust of rain hit the side of the car and I needed to swerve to compensate for the wind.

With an elevated and firm voice, I said, “Frankly Vincent, I don’t care if it is hailing outside and the ground is breaking around your feet, you get him outside, understood?”

“Whatever you say Dutch, I just want to fix this. This will fix everything right?”

“I’m no boss Vincent, I just follow orders… if that is what they told you, then I guess that is all.”

We pulled up to a white house with black shutters. A sitting porch held a small couples swing and you could see the fireplace was lit by the bellowing smoke flowing out of the chimney stack. The house was surrounded by neatly cut bushes and a small stone path led to the driveway.

“Get your ass up there quick and get him out of the house, I’ll take care of the rest. Do not make me wait…again.”

“Whatever you say Dutch, I just want tonight over with.”

I quickly emerged from the car and headed towards the side of the house.  I watched as Vincent ran up the steps, almost slipping halfway up the porch. Reaching for the slick railing, he was barely able to keep himself upright but managed to make it without falling on his face. The wind was whipping past so hard I barely heard the knock on the door and heard nothing of the conversation that was held.

Moments later, two figures came walking down the porch stairs, I took a guess that Sammy was on the right, closest to me, as the other figure was moving a lot slower, gripping the handrail for dear life.

As the two approached me, I could hear Sammy cursing Vincent for making him come out in this weather. I started my pursuit as they passed not five feet in front of me, the bushes providing ample shadows for me to hind behind.

Walking in step, I pulled my Colt from my side holster. As I raised my gun to the back of Sammy’s head, lightning streaked the sky and Sammy turned his head in alarm.

There was no surprise in the look of my victim, he had the look of a man who knew his time had come and took it with welcome stride. The moment lasted less than a blink of an eye. I pulled the trigger and matched the rumble of the thunder overhead.

Sammy slammed to the ground with the impact, his eyes glazed over; the look of death froze on his face.

We headed off to the dump site moments after getting the body in the trunk. Vincent sat proudly in his seat, satisfied how his part in the ordeal was over.

 “Do you think anyone heard?”

“For the last time, no one heard a thing. That thunder was enough to mask the sound of an explosion,” I replied.

“Why are we headed south? I thought I was done, I thought I was going home now?”

“Oh really, and leave me with this to clean up? Sorry, that is not how this works. Besides, next part is easier, I already have a spot dug in a field down Interstate 294, won’t take us long at all.”

Thirty minutes later, we pulled onto a dirt road and pulled over. We removed the body carrying it the 20 yards to the hole I had dug earlier in the day. We swung the limp body into the hole hearing a splashing thump as it hit bottom.

“Did you grab his wallet?” I asked Vincent.

“No, I didn’t even think to check if he had it on him,” He replied.

“Well that is not going to work out, I need you to jump down there and grab his wallet, make sure there is nothing there to identify him.”

 “Are you serious? There is no way I am dropping down into that hole.”

 “Look Vincent, this is your mess I am trying to clean up, get your ass into the hole and get me his wallet.”

With a look of disgust and panic, Vincent jumped into the hole. Feeling around the pockets he finally looked up and said, “Dutch, there is nothing here, you happy now?”

“That all depends Vincent, do you have your wallet on you?”

“No why would you…”

The question was never finished. His hand went up to cover his face from where my gun was pointing, so I never quite saw the look of shock and fear that spread across his face. His hand did nothing to prevent the bullet from ending his life. For good measure, I pulled the trigger two more times, once in each body. Both men dead, my job was complete.

The drive home seemed to take longer than it should have. Normally the quiet time is what I needed after a job but for some reason the stormy night was bringing on a nostalgic feeling that wouldn’t pass. The jobs were taking their toll. No longer could I walk away guilt free. The faces of those lives I ended early are starting to haunt me day by day. With every flash of lightening, I see the expression of Vincent’s face. I can almost hear his pleading voice ringing in my ears. The ringing was constant with no end in sight. Face after face, job after job, it gets worse. The ringing has become a constant reminder of the person I have become.

Frankie gave me a call a few days later giving me a time to meet. Frankie was my contact; he called when a job needed to be done. I had expected to hear from him earlier but I knew this time was different. I had a long talk with Frankie and explained I could no longer handle this line of work. I wanted out. I was eager to retire and move on with my life. I knew Frankie had to take my request to the boss. A decision would not be made quickly. Waiting a couple days to start a new life seemed like a small price to pay.

“Hey Frankie, how are you doing?”

 “I’m doing well. The boss is happy with you for taking care of that problem for us.”

“No worries, I assume you have word on my request?”

“Indeed, let’s finish this discussion downstairs.”

We walked to the kitchen and down the stairs into the basement, a normal place for us to go when we needed to talk about any business. As I walked into the meeting room, the first thing I noticed was the lack of furniture. The second thing was the plastic spread across the floor. Last thing I realized was the cold steel barrel pressed against the back of my head.

The ringing finally stopped. I felt numb all over. That light is so bright. I should have known. There are no loose ends in this business, this is retirement.

Koba takes a breath after reading his story aloud for the masses and begins his introduction.

"Hello my dear friends and family, please allow me to introduce myself, I am Koba, I enjoy story telling of all things our fine world has to offer. The story I just offered all of you is a favorite of mine written by myself but edited by a few from this grand world of ours. I offer it as not only my introduction but also a glimpse into the many stories I will be bringing to all of you. I do hope you enjoyed yourselves and if you are interested in co-writing any stories or plays then please drop my some mob mail!!"