'It was that prick Asriel, runs his crew out of the Jewish quarter across the way' Alesky said with a matter of fact tone. The slender 17 year old leaned back in, arguably, the only chair in the apartment not ridden with lice. He sat there shirtless, a bottle of vodka in one hand and a cigarette in the other remaining silent to add emphasis to the story. 'Supposedly Asriel and a heap of his goons ran up the stairs, armed to the-' Alesky paused and swigged heavily at the bottle, finishing with a small splutter and the wiping of his lips with the back of his hand. '-Makar, how does that fucking saying you taught me go?' The 15 year old Russian piped up from the corner of the apartment. 'Armed to the teeth' he said. 'Now toss me that Cigarette you owe me you rat!' 

Alesky reached into his pocket and passed a fag over to Makar before continuing. 'Anyhow, up the stairs armed to the tee-' 

'Pffftt' one of the younger children exclaimed toying with the pair of dog-tags around his neck. 'And who told you this! You mean to tell us, once again, your the only survivor of a gun fight? You don't even own a piece!' he said to the enjoyment of the 8 lads crowded in the apartment living room. Taari Michewski had bought heroin to Krakow in a big way. Mostly through the use of children he'd amassed a fortune set to last a life time and enough contenders to last two. For the kids effort on the streets he'd bought an apartment in the slums for those without homes to reside in. 

'You know I own a piece' he snarled. 'Taari is having it repaired. Well, was' he added sheepishly. 'Anyhow, Jotham explained it all to me, his cousin was there. They knocked on the door, no answer, busted it down and lined everyone up against the wall' he said before extending is arm, his fingers shaped like a hand gun. 'Bang. Execution style. He walked back and forth, shooting each of Taari's boys one by one. Cold bastard. I imagine Taari went down with a fight, he'd have it no other way' he finished dismissively. 

'You and I both know that's horseshit!' someone shouted from the couch on the other side of the room. 'Who cares' added another. 'It is Micha I am worried about. He popped over to collect his pay'

***

Micha sat uncomfortably across from Taari watching the man as he sucked his chicken bones dry. His gut practically fell out of his white singlet to no obvious care from either Taari or any of the goons who were also residing in the kitchen. He licked his greasy fingers before wiping them with the table cloth followed by his face. 

'Let me get this straight' he began, paying no heed to the kettle whistling on the kitchen bench. A worn looking man wiped a bead of sweat from his brow before strolling to the bench and pouring the boiling water into three cups. 'Eyes over here Micha' Taari said with a click. 'When I speak, you fucking listen no?' His voice wasn't particularly menacing yet Micha was well aware of the chill that shot down his spin with every word. 'So you come to me, at my humble home might I add and ask me for not only you payment but a little extra for this whore mother of yours, three days before payday. If I had of known you were coming I would have tidied the place up' he said with a bellowing laugh. 'Why don't you laugh boy! It would do you well to laugh' his tone suddenly shifted to one alot more serious. 'How sick is she Micha?' 

Micha shifted in his chair and looked across at the man walking towards the table with two cups. He placed one in front of Taari and the other in front of Micha. He quickly diverted his attention back towards Taari. 'Typhus. I cannot afford a doctor, please Taari, i've worked hard for you!'

Taari seemed to play with the situation in his head before nodding, almost sympathetically. Almost. 'That you have my boy, that you have. But, if I start throwing money around the place i'll have a bunch of fucking beggers on my doorstep asking for 'a little' extra as you put it. I'm trying to make money here Micha, why should I give a rats ass about your mother? I suggest you get the fuck out of here and prey you don't end up in the apartment with the rest of those bums. Now, look after her for only three more days then come back. And there will be no extra, I promise you that'

'Jesus christ, please!' he almost shouted, stiffling back tears. 'I don't know if she'll last!' 

Taari shot from his chair, quicker then Micha had ever witnessed him move and tossed the cup of tea, still brewing in the boiling water in Michas direction. Micha instinctively turned away from the volley of water and covered the back of his head with his hands. He let out a cry before rushing for the door. As he sprinted towards the door laughter erupted behind him before a firm pair of hands grabbed him and sent him spiraling towards the floor. Blow after blow rained down on him and slowly an almost peaceful feeling overwhelmed him. 

***

Micha came around to firm orders from a voice he didn't recognize. 'Get against the wall' rattled around his head but he didn't have the strength. Fearing another blow he slowly moved his arms in front of his face, trying not to weep from the pain. 

'Hey Stefan!' a voice called. 'The kid is moving'

A short man hovered over him, his face covered by a bandanna. 'Don't use my name, we talked about this' a voice replied. 'Pull him to the wall over there.' The words were not directed at him. 

As Micha was propped against the kitchen wall his vision came to and the scene became much more clear. Taari was on his knees, sobbing and pleading in a puddle of his own piss and the blood from the man who's made the tea. The blood seeped from a single hole in his forehead. Micha, suddenly frightend shot to his feet and backed into the corner. 'Woah kid, back on the floor' one of the men said pointing a gun towards him. 'Were not here to hurt anyone, we just want the fucking gear' he added directing his words at the weeping Taari. 'Don't do anything rash and you won't end up like you freind'

Micha rushed for the door and, surprisingly, met no resistance.