It was late Thursday as Patton exited the restaurant on the corner of 5^th and Lincoln. He instinctively leaned onto the wall that was swallowed darkness, cigar still in hand. He would wait until the rookies inside finished their childish squabble. He had many more important issues to focus on rather than that which would not guarantee him safety and power.

Fucking morons

He took a long drag from his cigar as he watched the night prowlers try to earn a buck. The only thing illuminating his face in a sallow color, the burning Cuban in his hand, he watched as a girl leaned into a car through the driver’s window trying to gain her next client. I need to get these streets cleaner, bad for business. Patton looked towards the sky, not much to see when in the middle of the city. The street light flickered a few times before it returned to the pale yellow gloom.

The tall building across the street seemed to hold more action than the streets did. On the third floor the Old Russian lady could be seen pacing across her living room. Her gray/white hair pinned securely in their rollers, her nightgown a light shade of pink, she continuously brought her right hand to her cheek. On the fifth floor the glow of a TV was the only source of light. Patton assumed it belonged to the young boy that moved in recently with his mother. They kept quiet, they didn’t leave the place often, they were probably running from their past, going to any place to offer a home for lost souls. 

On the eighth floor it looked like the newlyweds were arguing again. Putting a ring on it wouldn’t keep the Mrs. from batting her eyelids at any young tycoon in a nicely pressed suit. Nor would her extravagant purchases to impress her husband stop him from emptying an entire bottle of black label every night.

Finally the hooker on the corner stepped away from the car flipping her auburn locks overdramatically. She briskly walked towards Patton’s direction only noticing him when she was hardly a foot or two away. “Money over men” she shrugged. Patton nodded in acknowledgment as he finally realized what to do with his two men. He quickly made his way back into the restaurant where the two young lads still continued to speak to each other bitterly. He walked to their table and placed a revolver between them.

Make a decision or leave one bullet in, take it for a spin and see who is left standing. I don’t have time for grown men to bicker like they’re still in grade school.

They both looked at him shocked for such a brass order. Patton held up his hand, cigar still held firmly between his index and middle finger, as in to stop the men before they could retort. He was done dealing with the squabbling. He needed things done, efficiently and fast paced. Fuck anything otherwise.  Lives were replaceable.  Money over men.

Watching from a quiet table in the darkness tapping her nails on the table with a rhythm of annoyance, Shadow looks over towards the nonstop noise coming from across the restaurant.  Muttering to herself as she refrains from getting up, and putting a bullet each into those punks. Unsure how much more nonsense and bickering she can stand, she orders one more drink to relax.  

The waitress at her table in an instance after making a quick tap to her empty glass.  

"Just one more ought to do it for tonight hun."  Returning in a flash with the new drink, the waitress sets it down as Shadow nods briefly. The waitress flutters away to tend to the nearby tables.  Passing with speed away from the troublemakers.  

Sighs....After a long day chasing down information, she glances over the paper before her, then up to the table across the way.  Impossible such highly recommended snitches could annoy her this quickly with a passion.  She slowly sips on her drink as He walked in.  Smiling softly and leaning back to the wall, she conceals herself more in the shadows.  Chuckling softly as she notices she wasn't the only one annoyed with these lads.

Shadow watches in amusement at the fear in the young lads' eyes, as Patton reigns in their foolishness.