I've sat by idle and watched.
I've watched you greedy fucks consume cities, and churn out criminals like a goddamn meat grinder.
Your drugs, your violence, your whole criminal empire has gone too far.

You may have got a foothold in certain parts of my city however,  but now you want even more?
Fuck you, we aren't just rolling over. You will have to take it by force.
With the last breath of the last man, we will continue to defend our homelands to keep them pure of your devious kind.

Signed,
Downtown, Detroit

Downtown Crew,
There's a special place in Lake Huron for rogues like you.
Since you don't want to do business like proper criminals, we're obliged to send you there.
We'll Be Seeing You Soon.

-🍀, The Ivory Tower, Chicago

Out of the truck her group moved as silent as Old Saint Nick himself on Christmas morning.  Wordless commands were given and the group of gangsters fanned out into the streets.  Detroit was every bit as bitter cold as Chicago, maybe more so.  The snow was unyielding and where as Durden's guns in Chicago pissed her off to no end - the Downtown Crew in Detroit had declared war by both word and deed. 

Drugs, whores, and most importantly - alcohol wasn't coming across the Blue Water Bridge from Canada and into the hands of her contacts.  In fact, her contacts had gone utterly silent since this 'Downtown' crew had appeared on the scene.  Lucy feared the worst for those who had been loyal to her here.  While she could do nothing for the men and women themselves, she would avenge the dead and try to see the widows and orphans were provided for.  

Lucy looked to her right, for a moment she almost saw Frank there, but - no - it was Tony-Dicaprio .  She gave him a smile.  Tony had been willing to come on this trip where as Frank would have put her into a bed and not let her leave the moment the swell in her stomach had begun to show.  Tony understood her in a different way than Frank and while it was little comfort to her on those late nights when she couldn't sleep - as a Don, it was absolutely necessary.

She gave him a nod and put a seven round magazine into each of her twin Colt M1911A1s.  Some of her crew had come with Tommy Guns, others had brought Remington 12-gauge Shotguns... slow but it would put a hole through a truck and so worth having on this trip.  Speaking of slow, she also had two back up weapons.  Her mother's police issue Smith and Wesson Model 19 and the knife Frank had gotten her on the trip to Sicily - an intimate weapon she reserved for those people she wanted to feel dying in her own two hands.

Lucy put one of her guns back into a shoulder holster and the other she kept in her hand as she looked to the members of her crew preparing to track down Downtown.  There was no point in pretending this trip was anything other than what it was - a hunt, an execution, and every member who had agreed to come with her to Detroit had agreed to shed blood in the name of The Ivory Tower and Chicago.

This was the way men were made: fighting like gods and monsters in the streets - baptized in the blood of a family's enemies.  Today she'd get her first look at how far these people she'd brought together were really willing to go for the good of the group - 'for me.'

Into the old soot covered allies, stained by years of industry fouling up the air, Lucy and her crew moved.  Somewhere in the city other crews from Chicago, New York, Las Vegas, and Philly were all here too.  Downtown really stood no chance against such a united force.  It was a war of attrition only.  Lucy knew there might be losses, but the cost was well worth the prize - the knowledge that her crew and others could work together for a greater good.  That her cause of destroying rogues such as this group, was one others would kill and risk being killed for.

Tony nodded to the main entryway to what was allegedly one of their hideouts.  It was an abandoned flour mill.  The building was several stories tall and had more than a few very good pinch points inside.  They'd have to remain alert - but there was no avoiding having to clear it.  Word on the street was that one of the Downtown Capo's, Neyman, was inside.

Tony took point, Lucy followed and into the building they went.  Less than a heartbeat into the doorway - shots rang out.  "TAKE COVER!"  Lucy screamed out to her people and gangsters went in all directions.  Lucy followed Tony to a large crate and ducked down low.

"Here we go."  She said with a smile, a real and true smile that she could feel in the tips of her toes the way she'd felt it in the jail house fight not long ago.  Lucy didn't have time to consider why the only times she'd felt happy lately was when someone was actively trying to kill her.  Right now, all her attention was focused on returning the fire of Capo Neyman's bodyguards.

While Lucy and her crew entered the building, Andy got word of this raid and joined in. But his approach was a different one. He decided to take his M1 Grand costume modified sniper rifle and have a little fun with Neyman's bodyguards. He choose a nice a nice high building from where he had perfect vision over the hideout.

Minutes later after the hunt started Lucy and her crew got pinned down in a hallway. As an enemy comes up behind Lucy, Andy pulls the trigger. Lucy looks at the goon dropped dead on the ground. Than she take a look at the building from where the shot came. As she spots Andy he gave her a glance and not knowing if she knows.. than he continues to his original plan.

Silver walked through the snow when he heard the gun shots. He had a feeling it was in the mill a block out. He stood still for a second, thinking about whether he should go in or not. He had no idea who would be in there and how many enemies would be in there. A lot probably.

Either way, he knew they could use every help they could get. He reached for his gun behind his back, looked at it and swallowed. All or nothing. He loaded the chamber and took the safety off. He closed to the distance to the mill fairly quick and listened very carefully to check for people shouting.

He took a real quick peek around the doorpost and what he saw there was horrifying. A whole lot of dead bodies and broad-shouldered guys in a few corners. He looked around outside and noticed Andy on top of a building. He trusted Andy would watch for goons from behind, even if he didn't know him that well. As long as he didn't hit him..

He peeked again around the corner and when he saw a clean path, he ran in and took cover immediately. Bullets were flying all around. Able to get a few shots in, he knew he hit somebody, and hoped it was a fatal hit to them..

Tony heard Lucy yell take cover and they immediately ducked behind a large crate.  Tony looked at Lucy as she was sporting a crazed smile on her face the first time he saw that she was in Sicily trapped in a tailors shop with men shooting at her.  He shook his head as he realized that Lucy built a craving for danger however she never looked so beautiful as she does when she is fighting for her life.   

She turned to face Tony and said "Here we go."  Tony stood with his Chicago type writer and fired at several men standing near each other killing them.  That was three of the seven men shooting at him and Lucy.   Tony heard one of the men calling out for more men to come and help them.  Tony wasn't worried about Lucy she has proven herself on many occasions.  Killing for Lucy was like riding a bicycle on training wheels. 

Tony turned and shook his head the type writer drum was half empty and he only had one back up.  He was thinking that the next time they decide to do something like this that he either brings Vito and Gino or his shot gun and bandoleer filled with shout gun shells.  Tony stayed focused on the men coming as he watched Lucy picking men off as she fired back.  Tony spotted another hiding spot that could level the playing field for them.  He turned towards Lucy.

This is like old times for us.  See those two crates over to our right I need to get there to prevent them from putting us in a triangle and killing us.   That way we can at least keep them on there side while we defend our side.  Hopefully we will force there hand and they will back off.  So cover me i'm moving on a three count.  1, 2, go

Tony run and slide firing the tommy gun as he reached the new location.    He looked to check on Lucy and she was in perfect form firing and hitting her targets.  Tony shook his head as he realized that is why Frank loved her so and why he wanted to protect her.  She didn't need protection but she was to dam cute to lose.  He nodded at her letting her know he was in position to cover her if she wanted to move forward or fall back.   

“This is like old times for us.”  Tony said with a smile, one she returned with a nod.  It was.  How many times had she and Tony been in a fire fight side by side?  Weirdly, far more often than she and Frank ever had!

There was Sicily and Philly, of course.  He’d been there with her as she fled to Chicago with only her life to show for it – feeling pitiful.  She could barely fire a weapon then and now here she was – a Don!  Tony had gone to Dublin and been at her side as they lost Aiden – he’d been with her and Frank every step of the way and he’d seen her at her most triumphant and in her deepest despair.

For a moment Lucy considered reach out to him, touching him, letting him know how deep her gratitude was for all that he’d done – even in this moment while bullets whizzed past them.  No – ESPECIALLY – in such a moment.  She’d seen enough of death to last her two lifetimes.  She should have been in a grave more times than she cared to admit, and while some called it ‘Lucky’ or even skill… she was beginning to feel like it was something of a curse to outlive all those she loved and respected.

“See those two crates over to our right,” Tony kept talking and it snapped her attention back to the moment.  “I need to get there to prevent them from putting us in a triangle and killing us.   That way we can at least keep them on their side while we defend our side.  Hopefully we will force their hand and they will back off.” 

Lucy lifted her gun to her chest, making note of a man who MIGHT have been the Capo they were hunting, racing up the stairs some distance away.

“So, cover me.”  The way Tony said that last bit, it felt like a role reversal – again something old being brought back into the moment.  She looked to him, prepared to object – to tell him that she… not he… made plans and gave orders; but the protests died on her lips as they held each other’s gaze.  Her heart thundered in her ears. 

Tony continued, “I’m moving on a three count.”  She nodded in response to him as he began to count, “1, 2, go!”  Tony was gone in a blink. 

Lucy spun around and began to fire.  A one man in a wool pea coat and flannel hat, she put the bead at the end of her gun on his head.

Exhale. Squeeze.

A man with a tommy gun, fiddling with its canister.  His ear pointed towards her.

Exhale. Squeeze.

The man’s head exploded like a melon dropped to concrete – the cannister beside it.  A cold chill ran down her spine.  She could feel Varga’s ghost beside her, just out of sight. Of course, he wasn’t there… Varga was dead months ago in Philly along with all the other Faceless Men… an ironic crew name now. Lucy was the last – the only survivor of a purge from which she should not have walked away from and yet… here she was. 

She glanced at the ghost – a memory, an illusion, a trick of her still broken mind.  Blood still ran all down his face from where they shot him.  He didn’t seem to mind.  The ghosts, when they came now, always looked like corpses instead of how they had in life.  Sometimes with rot or worms and bugs; but always they never seemed to notice.

‘You can get it.  Move.’  Varga’s ghost insisted.

Lucy didn’t hesitate.  She never did when the ghosts of her original mentors ordered her.  They’d saved her life too many times to question them now and besides, they only ever came when she found herself in situations like these – surrounded by gunfire.  Lucy reached down to pick up the fallen ammo.

*CRACK!*

The noise immediately behind her didn’t sound like gun fire, but like the sound of bone exploding into wetness… an entirely wrong sound she could never recreate with her mouth.  Looking behind her, she saw a man without a face fell at her feet.  Out the window to her right she could see that sniper fire had taken her would-be murderer; but she could not see her savior’s face.  He was too far away.

‘Tony.’  Arya’s ghost reminded her.

Lucy nodded to herself and looked around to see that Tony was sliding into his planned position.  She lifted her gun and picked off another man – a rotund gentleman who looked to be nearing fifty.  Her bullets were a mercy.  That’s what she told herself.  How many men and women had a man of fifty lost during his life? 

She wasn’t yet thirty and she’d buried almost everyone who had ever meant a damn to her and stupidly she had – in a blind rage at her husband and Godfather’s deaths – filled her life with almost forty new lives, who all looked to her as their leader. 

Their Don.  How did it come to this?  Who the fuck am I to lead them?

‘You should start a family.’  Godfather Cletus’ words echoed in her memory and as they did  – she could feel the presence of ghosts who very rarely haunted her mind… gods and monsters each whispering dark guidance to her – promises of things none of them lived to do. 

‘You have potential.  If you live long enough, I’ll show you how the game is really played.’  Disorder’s corpse larger than life itself made her stomach twist in knots.  Lucy turned from him and ran right into the next Godfather who had commanded her allegiance.

‘My gun is yours. No one will touch you.  I’ll keep you safe.  Always.’  Tobias’ sweet smile was dotted with maggots and it made her want to be sick.  Turning away from Tobias she stopped before the intense gaze of her dear friend and most recent mentor.  His once sweet smelling powdered skin now smelled of bile, shit, and rot.

‘I’ll teach you. We’ll make that gun of yours some to be feared yet.’ Varys whispered.  

Lucy stopped half-way to Tony and fell against a steel pillar holding up the ceiling.  She closed her eyes and repeatedly told herself it wasn’t real.  They were dead.  Be steady and yet the sound of gun fire made every ghost’s voice just a little louder.  It was as if no one left this thing of ours… as if somehow their hands were always here, moving things… moving people.  

Moving me.

‘Forward now, Red!’  Varga’s ghost shouted at her over the sound of the dead Godfather’s and their promises that sounded as if they were coming from the lips of Satan himself – tempting her to darker things than she’d ever considered before; and THAT was something considering what she’d done in this life. 

Lucy bent down to avoid the hail of gunfire all around her – shattering the plaster from the wall, raining it down upon her like the snow falling outside.  She ran as fast and as hard as her legs could carry her and she did not stop until she collided with the body awaiting her, not a corpse – blessedly, but a face she knew and deeply cared for: Tony.

For a moment she clung, trembling in fear, to him.  Even as he took the cannister from her, reloaded, and continued to shoot the people behind her; the ones who meant to put an end to her once and for all.  Why had she run?  One misstep, one moment too slow and she’d have gone on to be with Frank… or… or would she have gone to be with them? 

Still clinging to Tony, she looked back to where the ghosts of the Godfathers had been, but there was nothing there now; not even Varga.  Where would she go when she died?  Where was Frank?  Would she ever see him again and if she did… would it be in a place either of the wanted to be?  For the first time, Lucy truly knew what it meant to fear an immortal creator and judge.

“You okay?”  Tony asked her, as the room went silent.

Lucy swallowed and slowed her heart rate.  She nodded, trying to get her head back in the game.  “The Capo… he went up the stairs.  There’s no way out up there. Let’s go.”

Tony watched Lucy moving it was poetry in motion she moved like a big cat with speed and purpose.  As the hail of bullets flew around her it looked as if she moved faster then them and ducking when needed to avoid being touched by one.  As she collided into him he grabbed her holding her to reassure her that she made it.  He asked her was she okay and she gave him a quick nod.  Then the typical Lucy came out as she was always thinking and observing.    

She inform Tony that  “The Capo… he went up the stairs.  There’s no way out up there. Let’s go.”  Tony knew she was on a mission and nothing was going to stop her from killing this guy.  Tony knew she wanted to get to those stairs and he knew she was going to make that run the first second she saw an opening.  Tony knew that he had to move and draw their fire towards him so she could hit a few of them as they exposed themselves while shooting at him. 

Okay Lucy I'm going to draw their fire and I hope to get a few too but I would appreciate it if you got the rest before they get me. 

He looked at Lucy and smiled showing he had every bit of confidence in her.  He turned his head and left the tommy gun with her as he pulled his 45 and shot the first man he saw.  He ran towards stacked cases of Liquor as they became a little hesitant at firing at the booze.  Then they realized that they had to kill him and dam the lost in the product.  Lucy opened up on the exposed men as they all shot at Tony.  Tony felt as if he didn't fully think his plan out.  

He ducked behind the liquor and then started firing back only to reload and return more fire.  One dam hand gun he thought to himself.  He decided that after this he was going to be like Lucy two colts or no go.  He hit some old fat guy three times before he fell and again Tony had to reload.  He quickly started firing only to notice Lucy not only hit the rest but she was getting ready to move to the stairs.  Shaking his head in amazement he couldn't wait to see what she was going to do next. 

Jessica was hot on Lucy's heels from the moment they left HQ. It had only been a short while since the two met in FBN lockup, but a bond had formed quickly and resolutely between the two and Jes had been at Lucy's side nearly every day since. There was no way in seven hells she was letting Lucy walk into Detroit... into a war... without being at her back. 

Jes was nothing if not well prepared. Her favoured 1908 acp, was, of course, in hand. But she also wore two drop-leg holsters - the Baretta 1915 she'd filched off her father-in-law's corpse cradled proudly on her Right and several spare magazines on the left - as well as a pump action shotgun, slung across her back. Under her short trench coat was nestled a thin bandoleer with extra shells and a small boot knife... just in case. Roger had actually laughed when she first mentioned going with Lucy, but when she left the house - fully locked and heavily loaded, in slacks and boots - the humour quickly faded. She was serious, and she wasn't fucking around. 

The streets were eerily quiet as the group of Guardians made their way through the tight and sooty alleys. It was as if the very city held it's breath in anticipation of what was to come; already silently mourning the blood that would flow through her streets like severed arteries. The only sound was the soft crunch of footsteps on snow. Even as they climbed the steps that Tony indicated it was deathly silent, right up until the moment shots rang out. Jessica's heart skipped a beat as Lucy screamed for the crew to take cover. For a split second her mind slowed to a dangerous halt before the world exploded into fast forward around her. Gangsters scattered like cockroaches. 

She saw Tony drag Lucy behind a large crate as she dove for a thick stack of sacks of soured flour. She felt the familiar tense pressure building in her chest, but now was no time for a panic attack. Barrels flashed, wood splintered, flour rained down on her red ringlets. She could feel the heavy thunk of enemy fire as it slammed into the rotting barrier keeping her marginally safe. Three deep breaths and she leaned around the edge of her would-be blockade, squeezing off three rounds into the nearest grouping of Neyman's men. Only one hit flesh, but even suppressive fire was useful as she watched Tony move away from Lucy. His powerslide actually ripped a curious chuckled from her lips as she realized the shaking in her hands didn't feel like fear anymore. With an insane laugh, she realized why Lucy always smiled. 

The exhilaration of the moment was short-lived, however. The smile swiped from her lips as Lucy lurched toward Tony. Jes' heart skipped a beat as her eyes lighted on the small bulge beneath Lucy's jacket. Why was she running? "SHIT!" Jes cursed under her breath, shoving the small .380 into her belt and reaching for the shotgun. One misstep and Lucy... and her baby... was toast. Shaking the flour from her tell-tale red hair, Jes stood from behind her flour drenched safe haven and unleashed a hail of fire into the group of men raining bullets around Lucy. Slugs slammed heavily into the walls, buckshot tearing into suits and flesh, as Jes cycled through the mixed-shell ammo she'd loaded into the shotty. 

Much to her surprise, she drew far more attention than she'd imagined. But enough for Lucy to make it safely to Tony's position. And that was what mattered. Ducking behind the barricade of burlap bags, Jes flinched as a smattering of bullets tore down the cloth. "Shit. Shit. Shit," she whispered softly to herself. "Why'd you do that, girly? That was stupid." A round whizzed by her head, unbearably close as it grazed her hair. And Jes yelped audibly. Leaning around what was left of her quickly crumbling cover to evaluate her options. There was another crate about two yards forward, but she'd never make it with all of this... 

Tony pressed forward, massacring guards with his pistol, and for a brief moment the hell around her eased up. If ever she had a chance, this was it. Slinging the shotgun over her shoulder, she fished her colt from her belt and pressed forward; crouched as low to the ground as she could manage.  Moving around the inside of the flour stack, she squeezed carefully along the wall until she popped out a few feet from her destination with an impressed chuckle. It actually worked better than she had hoped. Flattening herself against the large crate she timed her shots carefully, filling in the gaps where Tony had to reload... and using his fire to do the same. 

He and Lucy were like a two-man army. She loved it. Pressing herself against the crate, her eyes scanned the others that had followed them in, sure that she'd see Roger in the wreckage somewhere. One day, she hoped the two of them could fight as well together as Lucy and her... well... Jes wasn't really sure. Shaking the thoughts from her head, she looked back to Lucy, waiting to see how they would proceed next. Stairs weren't exactly the safest route in a gunfight. It was like putting a bull in a chute. Who was gonna be the bull??

Lucy, Tony, Jessica, they had all gone to Detroit. It was Roger who had stayed behind at first... It almost made him sick to know they had gone. Lucy should have never stepped into the war zone, not without everyone there to help keep her safe. He sat at his desk in his own compound, rubbing his temples. He'd told Jess to wait, to not go....yet. She was hell bent on it though. Dressed from head to tow in her battle regalia and all Roger could do was shake his head. He'd raised her into the ruthless bad ass she'd now become and he wouldn't stop her.

Once he was alone in the house, however, it became a different story. He threw almost everything in the office that he could break, shattering chairs, cups, tipping over cabinets and breaking shelving. He didn't often get this angry, but when he felt helpless it happened... Then the phone rang.

"It's about fuckin' time!" Roger yelled through the phone line, then quickly calmed himself, "Oh, ye-yes... My apologies Giani, yes. Jessica is actually quite fine! I'm sure she'd LOVE to have you come to Chicago for the holidays and hand make her some gelato. I know I would! However, I'm awaiting a very important phone call and I've got to keep the line open... Yes... Yes I'll tell her... We love you too Giani... yes, be safe too. Thank you, good bye Giani!"

The phone rang again and THIS time, Roger was a bit nicer.

"Coniglio residence." But that was where the niceties stopped. Back to yelling he went... "IT'S ABOUT FUCKIN' TIME CHARLIE! Did ya get tha shit I asked about? Did your contacts hold their deal? GOOD... Yeah, fuck it. Get it loaded up an' I'll meet ya on tha tarmac in Detroit."

That was it, the heavy arms were coming in. Damn it was nice to have connections... Thank you Irish bastards! Once at the air port, it would be a short flight to Detroit where Roger and his merry band of Rabbits could join the fray...

A Mack AC "Bulldog" set on the runway, just out of the way of the plane. It was running and all the four passengers were waiting for was their boss. Roger hustled off the jet climbed into the back.

"Okay, so we got machines, pistols, shotguns, an' grenades, right? Let's go fuck up some Detroit crews an' hook up wit' Lucy an' tha othas. Get this cavalry carriage rollin' boys!"

Killian put the vehicle into gear and it's diesel engine roared to life as the large truck lurched forward. It wasn't long before the heavy sounds of a firefight could be heard in the city's center. "That's gotta be them. I know they were headed for the center of everythin'... Keep rollin'!"

Bullets tinged off the metal of the truck and Roger hit the deck along with the other three in the back, Killian driving furiously and fearlessly. You heard and felt the thud and bump of a gangster being hit and run over by the heavy truck, a mangled and crushed corpse rolling behind the vehicle as they kept moving.

Roger loaded up a shotgun and strapped it to his back, placing a few extra shells in his pocket. He then slipped his typical revolver into it's holster beneath his left arm and threw some bullets in a pouch on his belt. Next, he grabbed a few banana clips and a Tommy, along with two grenades. He was loaded for bare, and ready to take out some bastards!

Urging Killian to get as close as possible, Roger slipped out of the truck and ran ahead on foot, popping a few rounds on the Tommy off into a few guys. Bob and weave here, roll and take cover there. He had help from a mounted gun on the truck with Ivan squeezing off suppressive fire for him. Most of the gunfire sounded like it was coming from within a mill and Roger slid himself up next to one of the windows to take a peak. He caught a glimpse of Lucy and Tony firing off rounds, and then caught sight of the copper red ringlets of his mate. They were all pinned, but seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Tony moved, firing off his pistol, and Jessica followed from across the room, behind some flour stacks... Why flour stacks?! Those weren't good cover! Regardless, they seemed okay.

He ran back to the truck and looked at Ivan on top of it. "When I give tha signal, light up that corner of tha building!" He pointed to the area where everyone was advancing. "An' watch me, an' me only. When I signal wit' a fist, ya stop or you'll hit us."

Ivan nodded, "Is easy boss. I understand." He readied the lewis machine gun and awaited the signal from Roger who was running back to the window...

With a wave of his hand, Killian moved the truck forward to be parallel with the wall, and Ivan opened up fire, shredding through the brick and mortar of the building, and ripping through the men that fired at Lucy and Tony, even as it seemed they were planning an attack. If any time, it were now...

The Detroit gangsters had no idea what was happening as bullets pegged them from where no one was, but as the Chicago crew pushed forward, Roger waved a fist and Ivan cut his gunfire.

"Keep that truck safe, and keep it runnin' boys! I'm gonna join them in there. BE READY! They are probably gonna come for ya!"

Charlie, Killian, and Brailen all hopped out, loaded to the teeth with Tommy Guns and plenty of ammo.

"They ain't takin' me truck, boss. We paid good money for all t'is shite. WASTE T'EM FUCKERS BOSS!"

Ivan chuckled happily from the top of the truck. "Yes, we have this." He patted the lewis gun in true "heavy" fashion.

Roger chuckled and took off around the building, weaving in behind Tony, Lucy, and Jessica. He slid two ammo canisters to Tony with a wink. "Don' worry, Coniglio's always come prepared..." He gestured to Jessica who was loaded down then turned to her. "Hey girl, couldn't bare lettin' ya have all tha fun." He grinned wide, "Let's kick some ass... An' we's got a truck outside waitin' for us when we's done here."

Giggling quitetly to myself... feeling a rush if adrenaline take over my body.. feeling the heat...I look around the corner of my stacked boxes I am using for cover. I see some of my crew around. I place my hand at my hip checking for my piece, slipping it into my hand from the holster, I grin to myself due to the feeling of this piece of metal in my hands, feeling like it belongs there.

I check my other hip for the backup of  weapons and bullets. Focused, I am watching the activty in front of me, making sure I have eyes on my crew as well, ready, willing, and able to do whatever is needed. I see bullets flying from every which way. I keep an ear and eyes on my crew, awaiting any orders.

Tony was moving slowly as he spotted another 45 laying next to a dead man.  He bent down picking it up and checking the body to find two loaded clips.    He was happy to have two matching 45's and even happier to notice that both Jessica and Roger Coniglio showed up with guns blazing then he saw Little Lei and realized that the tides are turning in Lucy's favor.  Roger slide him two drums for the tommy gun however he then realized that the tommy Gun was with Lucy and she wasn't looking at him as she was surveying the floor and everyone's location.

Tony smiled and nodded to everyone as he reloaded his clips and pistols.  He flashed Lucy the two full drums but she didn't respond so he decided to move back towards her at that very moment Lucky Luck tossed him the tommy gun and the side of the gun smacked Tony directly in the face knocking him backwards to the ground.  He held up the tommy gun with one hand and yelled he's alright as he laid there with a bloody nose. 

As he laid there he thought dam she is lucky and how in hell didn't he see she was about to toss him the rifle.  holding the tommy gun and sliding backwards on his back he loaded it with a full drum.  Okay he thought back on your feet and see if anyone is going to shot at you.  Tony moved slowly as he realized that smack also made him a bit dizzy.  He rolled to his hands and knees then onto his two feet.  slowly looking over the creates and thanked God no one was shooting at him. 

He looked and saw five men running down the corridor towards him he gave a delightful grin and opened up on them mowing them down like a swing blade does to grass.  He moved forward again looking up at the stairwell but refusing to move until Lucy does.  He was only there as her back up and she needed this as a release for all that she suffered over the last few weeks.  He was going to ensure she returned to Katy. 

He looked at the five man team in the building and wondered how many more of Lucy's people were just outside.  He was loaded and ready for her instructions as he watched Roger looking at Jessica making sure she was safe while Lei and Jessica watched over Lucy making sure she was okay and safe.  Tony thought with all the love people have for her why did Frank think Lucy needed so much protection.  Then he heard Frank's laughter and voice.  "Where are you now Tony in a f'n warehouse getting shot at and smacked with rifles." 

Tony chuckled at himself as he realized that Frank had his ways and even from the grave could make him laugh.  Tony took a deep breath and then refocused on the stairwell.     

I knew that there were a few problems going on in Detroit but I needed some cheap booze to ship back for all the Christmas parties that were going to start in Philly. I would only be a few hours, What could happen in such a short time as long as I kept my head down,saw my supplier, got a good deal and left on the next available flight.

How wrong was this. Within 5 minutes of leaving the airport some piece of shit shot at me but winged one of my BG's. I returned fire  

Success!
You killed two bodyguards and wounded a third.

Hopefully that will teach the mothers to shoot at a visitor who is trying to stimulate their economy for them. 

Bertie started moaning that he had been hit and wanted a doctor. I had to tell him to man the fuck up it was only a flesh wound and promise him a bonus if he kept his big mouth shut. If he didn't I would be tempted to finish the job myself.

My supplier told me this gang had been in Detroit for quite a time and everyone was running scared and avoiding the city in case they got hit. We concluded our business and he managed to persuade me to go to a hotel until my flight left. Not that he was worried about me he just needed to protect his investment and future business.

I will hang around for a while and just hope no other eejit tries it on or they will get the same.

Detroit was desolate. When a crime syndicate is able to monopolise an entire city by themselves with no opposition, they are able to leech all life and soul from the grounds they walk on. The evidence of that was clear. The boarded up window and door look was in style and nearly every shop was donning it in some form or another. Maggy had managed to find herself a speakeasy where she could get a drink.

There was nothing spectacular about the interior. The once diner was worn to bits with sponge peeking out of the red leather stools, wallpaper hanging off, the usual decapitated look. There was one other person at the makeshift bar, Eugene_Leichty, associate of the corky gang. She knew due to him donning the pristine white hat & suit combo, he wanted everyone to know who he was rolling with. He catches eyes with Maggy.

"Say, Dollface! Wanna come sit on my lap? You may not know this, but im a big deal around these parts."

"Is that so?" Maggy responded, sitting down on the stool next to his. She tried to eye the bartender, she was gagging for a drink.

"Too right I am, I Run these here streets." Eugene finishes off the drink in his glass and launches it at the wall near the bartender, who recoils in fear. The bartender grabs another glass, fills it to the brim with gin and places it next to Eugene. "See that? That prick knows whos boss around here, hows about you come a little closer so I can show you how a boss looks after those who look after him? know what im saying?"

The old bum looked him in the eye and gave a wry smile, "this bag of shit isnt worth my time". She gets out of her seat and begins to walk behind him, stroking his double chin as she passed. she sits on his lap and places both of her feet onto the bar.

"yea yea yeah, that what im talking about, whats your name sweety?" Eugene  says as he closes his eyes, completely trapped within his own bubble. The old bum leans into his ear.

"Margaret Garcia of Chicago's Full Frontal"

His Eyes flash open, and his face recoils in horror. It was either the fear that the name had put into him, or the knife that Maggy had put into his chest. The blank canvas of a suit had been painted red. Maggy jumped off of his lap and began to giggle.

"Guards! FUCKIN GUARDS!" 

"You guys run this city into the ground, take everything you could take, and you thought that no one would notice? you are a pathetic little man. We have come here to clean up the mess you have left here. Detroit is no longer yours"

"FUCK YOU YOU YO.."

Eugene slumps over and falls to the floor in a pool of his own blood. Maggy grabs the glass of gin and takes a sip. "I so needed that" She finishes off the glass in a couple of large gulps and places a $100 on the counter before leaving the speakeasy. "I need to find the others, this side stuff is so boring" she thinks to herself as she begins to make it over the mountain of dead bodyguards who were meant to be guarding this 'Big deal'.

Xena had entered DT one evening, constantly stalking the same person day after day. She had business to attend to in CH, but couldn't busy herself with it just yet. Each time her prey stepped out into view, she wounded their body guards. One by one she took her time wounding each one with her chakram. Well.. it was a gun, not an ancient and mythical weapon, but it had the name "chakram" carved into it. As Xena took her time in DT's war of the monsters, she only wondered what christmas could bring her this year. More memorabilia, or more socks.. everyone seemed to think she needed socks.. why socks?

"Luuucky!" Neyman drug out her name taunting her as she came to the base of the stairs.  Lucy dared a peak, but pulled back fast as the Capo fired down into the stairwell with insane laughter.  When the gun ran out of ammo, Lucy turned and made mad sprint, firing up the steps and forcing him to back away.

Behind her she could hear Tony and the others.  They'd be following close on her heels, but she only had eyes for Neyman.  Every fucker who tried to justify their murderous deeds with claims of righting wrongs wore Geordie's face now.  This one was no different.  Killing him, killing anyone who would dare to be like him, was a way to honor Frank - to avenge him in a way she could not do personally. 

She had thought ten million dollars paid out in bounty for Geordie's head would make her feel as though she'd won; but it hadn't.  Nothing filled the vast void in her gut that always hungered for more now.  More justice.  More blood.  More death.  There was never enough enemies to sate the howling and gnashing inside her soul that was her shattered heart. 

The capo had disappeared into one of the offices here on the upper level... but which one?  Lucy motioned with her gun for the group to advance and fan out.  One by one they kicked in doors and swept into the rooms with the business ends of their weapons.  She'd stalked murderers in Sicily and in Ireland in this way, but never with an army behind her.  This was something wholly different anything she'd felt before.  Even when she'd lead Frank's family against Enna, it wasn't HER army no matter what they wanted her to think... she barely knew them.  But, these people were hers.  They'd kissed her wedding band, shed blood and swore on their souls that they served her.  Today they were proving to her that those things were more than empty words - they were sacred vows.

Lucy gave Lei a smile as the woman passed her by and a quick wink was spared to Roger for all he'd done.  She'd not expected to see him here but his arrival was timely.  He'd turned the tide on this operation and that was not something she'd so forget.  

Lucy and Tony came to the final door.  She hesitated.  For a moment she could hear Frank in her memory and, as if to further honor him, she nodded for Tony to take point and kick open the door.  As expected, her friend did not hesitate.  The door knob splintered and the door came open wide.  

Silence.

How was this possible?  So far no one had found anything in the rooms they were searching, but there was no way out of here... how did he just vanish?  Tony went inside and she followed close behind.  She never saw what made Tony react, instead, she simply saw him wheel around and grab her by both arms and push her.  The two of them moved no more than three steps into an open closet - a deafening roar of a Chicago Typewriter going off behind them.  

Tony wrapped his flesh around her.  Her silhouette pressed flush with with the wall, his muscled form wrapped around her on three sides - prepared to take a bullet if one came through the wall and towards her. 

In the room she could hear more gun fire - her people had come and a firefight which would have inspired Armageddon itself commenced. 

Tony looked down at her, and she up at him.  Neither spoke a word in those heartbeats that seemed to go on forever - death consuming the entire space of the office outside the closet door.  Here he was, again, protecting her from what should have been her end.  Tony who had thrown his body into the path of destruction for her Sicily, then again in Philadelphia, in Chicago, in Ireland; this loyal friend who...

Gooseflesh covered her body in an instant.  She shifted to accommodate him, giving him more space in the small closet; but this only caused him to close in upon her.  There was no space left to move.  Her heart quickened in one-part terror and one-part longing for this level of intimacy that had been denied her for so long now.  Lucy took a breath and drew in the scents of old flour and gunsmoke, but beneath that - clean, nervous sweat. 

She'd seen this look in his eyes before, but never with this level clarity and understanding.  The warmth and weight of him molding around her, desperate to keep her alive even at the cost of himself; this wasn't out of a sense of duty to a dead man.  What he did now, he did for himself.  He did it because he wanted it. 

His muscles were rigid and tense with the effort held intended to put forth in protecting her, but that gaze of his was anything but; in his eyes she could see his fears and something much deeper and more frightening than all the tommy guns in Detroit combined.  Lucy's arms slid around Tony turning what was a protective action into a lover's embrace returned. 

GOD, but it felt good to be touched by someone - TRULY touched!  Not as a breakable object with a precious life growing within her... or given a sterile embrace laced with the platitudes one gave to unfortunate women like her.  Tony wasn't holding someone's widow, or a mother to be, he was looking at her!  Had anyone save her enemies looked at her and REALLY seen her since Frank's death?  

Maybe, later, she could tell herself that he hadn't looked at her this way at all?  They would laugh about this queer moment over drinks years from now - this moment that she so misunderstood!  But in conflict with all the pain she felt, the loneliness and sorrow over Frank's death which was still so fresh in her mind; she found herself wanting herself to be right.  The hope that he wanted to be with her as badly as she needed to be with someone - anyone - felt so right.  

Lucy rose up on her toes and Tony came down to meet her.  She closed her emerald eyes and felt his face coming nearer to her own.  The warmth of his breath on her lips was almost to much to bear as they hovered there; just shy of kissing - as if perhaps what was happening, wasn't happening at all. 

"Please." She whispered, unsure what she was begging for exactly in this impossibly wrong moment where the whole world was falling down around them.  There was no thought of what would happen when the gunfire was gone, no consideration given to what they'd do the second they stepped outside of this closet, or how she'd ever face him again after they crossed this most dangerous line... in her mind all that she could feel was the emptiness that all the blood of all the rogues in all the world could never fill - and the word which her entire body shivered at the sound of: please.

"LUCY!"  Jessica's voice called out and she could hear her crew coming into the room.  The fight had ended and she had not noticed.  Lucy opened her eyes and watched as Tony's smoldering gaze returned back to that of her most loyal bodyguard - an associate of her crew - nothing more.  

"In here - we're okay."  Lucy called out.

Tony's arms fell away from her, as if he'd only been holding her out of necessity for her own protection.  No one who had not been in that closet would ever be the wiser about what happened in those few seconds they had been together - or so Lucy told herself.  She just had to keep her head in the game and focus on the job at hand.

"We got the son of a bitch."  She heard a male voice say.  Perhaps it had been Roger, but Lucy was distracted with thoughts of what the hell just happened and how she was going to address it later - if at all.

"Good work everyone."  Lucy said as she came out of the closet, watching Tony greeting his fellow crew members, "Let's see if we can salvage some of this product for our own purposes and then get the hell out of here.  I don't know about you guys but I could really use a bite to eat."

With that Lucy went about the task of trying to finish up the job without thinking on the events of the closet - at least not she was alone and with a clear head.  Tomorrow, they'd have to be back out here again hunting more of the Downtown Gang.  She couldn't allow this - whatever it had been - to distract her from the job at hand. 

Fritz settled down into his vantage point at the top of the abandoned building with a weary sigh. It had been a challenge, getting up here without being spotted while the battle raged on below with his crippled leg. Regardless, he had managed it somehow, was now staring out across the debris strewn over the streets before him. He undid the fastenings on the case he was carrying and extracted his trusty Gewehr 98 and laid the rifle across his lap. The gun had saved his life numerous times during the Great War, and today, it would be of service again. Fritz had regularly cleaned, polished and maintained the weapon, and the wood and metal gleamed in the light of the setting sun. 

He had replaced the old 2.5x telescopic sights with the new 3.0x model and his heart raced with the anticipation of what was to come. It had always been this way. In a twisted sense, Fritz had felt that he had found true love when he spotted an enemy through his crosshairs, and when he squeezed the trigger, it was in a gentle, almost lover-like manner. He undid the safety lever, pulled back the bolt and loaded a five round strip into the rifle, and snapped the bolt shut. 

He then pulled out a pair of pocket binoculars and peered into the distance through them. LuckyLucy was going to give him the all clear sign very soon, and he would start wreaking havoc on the bastards below, preventing them from being able to rest and regroup, and providing sniper cover for the rest of his crew when they got back into the action......

Through his binoculars, Fritz spotted a bonfire go off on the roof of the building opposite to the one in which he was nesting. That then was the agreed upon signal. Whistling merrily to himself, as though he were about to do no more than mow a lawn, he put his binoculars and picked up the rifle, aiming the barrel at the streets and looking through the telescopic sights. He felt giddy with anticipation, as a big cat would when stalking prey across the grasslands. He had not experienced the joy of viewing a man through a set of crosshairs, and granting him the gift of death since 1917. 

He spotted two of them, crawling over the rubble and recovering all the guns and ammunition he could from the dead bodies. Fritz sucked in some air and held his breath, bring the crosshairs to rest over the first man's forehead. He gently squeezed the trigger and heard the roar of the rifle as it spat fire and lead, and kicked-back into his shoulder. The bullet went wide, missing the target by an inch and slamming into a dislodged bit of wood behind him. Right away, the two men dropped what they were carrying and scrambled for cover. "Scheisse!" Fritz swore to himself, rapidly pulling back the bolt to eject the expended shell and slamming it back into place. 

He took aim and fired at the fleeing men, and missed again, hitting a window this time. The long and hard years after the war had robbed him of much of his old skill it would seem. Regardless, skills could be reacquired, especially when an astoundingly attractive redhead, who also happened to be your boss was watching your work firsthand. Fritz had just spotted LuckyLucy through his crosshairs, and her presence had set off every single alarm bell in his head. "You fucking moron!" Fritz told himself through clenched teeth. "Don't you dare miss in front of her!". Whispering a quick prayer to the God above who had somehow created a son without fucking anybody, Fritz took aim for a third time and fired.

He hit is mark this time. One of the two men fell with a roar of pain, blood spurting from his back. He did not get up again and lay in a position that suggested that his spine had been shot through. Quickly ejecting the shell and moving the bolt back in place, Fritz fired at the second man, just as he was about to enter the cover of a building. He got lucky as the pain collapsed wordlessly, clutching at the gaping wound in his throat. 

Sighing with relief, Fritz pulled back the bolt and loaded another five-round strip. He would start harassing their rear lines now, buying time for his crew to regroup and start the second wave of attacks. Most importantly, he had not made a complete ass of himself in front of the pretty lady....

The fires of war are lit.  Let the hunt begin anew.

Dressed in black slacks & jacket, with red suspenders over top of a black turtle neck, Lucy exited the abandoned building with her men and marched through the streets of Black Bottom like she owned it. 

Her crew numbers here in Detroit had increased since yesterday when they hunted the Capo Neyman in Downtown.  They'd have been home in Chicago right now, except rogues were like cockroaches - crush one and another always seemed to crawl up out of the rubble. 

Having ended the Downtown Gang through cooperative efforts of crew leaders and Godfathers from across the country, Lucy thought she'd be taking her daughter out to build snowmen today... instead she was hunting a woman by the name of Black Betty.  This laughable fool had not learned a damn thing from Julie and Bobby Brown.  She'd declared war while her city was full of more mobsters than a speakeasy on a Friday night after a shipment.

Godmother Sineya had sent Ivory Tower out to Black Bottom to find the members of her crew and cut off any support she might call upon.  Lucy had gotten the call in the earliest hours of the morning.  It normally wouldn't have been an issue - but she'd not slept last night.  As a result, she was exhausted and feeling less than at the top of her game at a time when her leadership skills and her operation were being analyzed not just by the Godmother Chairman of Chicago - but people like Godfather CletusKasady who had been the one to suggest she rise up and seize her title of Don and form a family to avenge Varys and Frank.

Lucy had paired up the Rabbits, JessicaConiglio and RogerConiglio with a gang of wise guys to follow each of them.  Between the two of their gangs they had enough fire power to kick in the door of every speakeasy in this district and gather what product they could to pad their own bottom lines.  All that with some left over for a nice donation to her, for providing them with the locations of said operations.  To make things interesting (and to inspire the two lovers who reminded her more of she and Frank than she cared to admit) Lucy offered a little completion... whose ever gang bagged more dead Black Betties by 6pm tonight, she'd pay a tidy sum of Six Million Dollars.  That would be a million for themselves and one for each member of their gang - if the gang leaders decided to split it.  Who knew, maybe they'd pocket the cool six million for themselves!

Lucy had brought Lei Tony-Dicaprio and recent addition Fritz_von_Oppenheim with her personally to perform what she was lovingly referring to as a bug hunt.  Bugs because of how she chose to see these rogues... cockroaches to be smashed beneath the boot heel of the Tower and hunt because in this ghetto - with them on the run - they literally had to be hunted down.  Other members of her crew were out and about - but these commanded her immediate attention.  

Fritz, so far as she could see, would serve her best behind a scope.  She'd been happy to recruit a former military man who had some skill in this area because she lost the best shooter she'd ever seen when she'd buried Frank.  She didn't know if Fritz would prove his equal or not, but he'd get his first opportunity to show her soon.  She could could feel the eyes of unseen men on her as they walked through the abandoned residences that banks had foreclosed upon.  This place was a ghost town. 

The market crashing had devastated this are of Detroit - gutted it and with no Mafioso to come in and pick up the pieces where the government and private corporations had failed... well... this was the result.  For not the first time on this trip she wished that Ravi had been here still, though she did not give voice to such an opinion.  The Kid had run afoul of the people in charge - whatever he'd done, whoever he had ties to, she would not chance anyone thinking her to be in league with them.  Lucy was determined to play her cards atop the table and in the manner her own six year old daughter did... face up where everyone in play could read them.  It wasn't the way of every family, but she wasn't every gangster and it was said by many that her 'luck' had allowed her to accomplish the nearly impossible.  Lucy wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth.  Luck or skill - she was alive and in a place of power where those who neysaid her tactics, were in graves.

Gun fire broke into her stream of thoughts and Lucy got low, looking around until she saw what Fritz had shot at.  At least two men.  One falling as she caught sight of them.  Hit in the back.  Solid middle of the body hit.  She could almost hear Frank reminding her that such a shot was one that would not look 'personal' ... Fritz was as professional as he'd sold himself to be.  Lucy felt a sense of relief until she saw the second man on the run and looking as though he might get away.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lei and Tony taking off at a run.  She turned just in time to see them chasing after two other men who - from his vantage point - Fritz must not have been able to see.  Too near the building he was atop.  

Another gun shot.  Lucy turned back in time to see the second man die near the door of the building he clearly was trying to make it to.  Had the building been an opportune location to hide... or was there something there.  Lucy, her gun at the ready, walked towards the building.  She paused to see Fritz's handy work ... a hole clean through the neck of the man who never made it to the door.  Casting her eyes back to the building she could see a glint from Fritz' scope.  He was well hidden though and no one would get a shot on him in return.  

Assuming Fritz could see her, she gave him a smile and nod - a non-verbal compliment to his work.  Carefully, Lucy took hold of the door handle and tested to see if it was unlocked.  Find that the door knob was broken, she gave the door a push and entered.  Her muzzle turning one way and then the other she swept the dimly illuminated space. 

Early morning light filtered in - gray from snow clouds and smog from the factories.  She swore this place, Detroit, was the dirtiest place she'd ever been.  It was a foul city and she couldn't understand why anyone would want to live here.  If her crew had been sent to such a place, she'd would immediately begin investing in fixing up the joint.  People couldn't make good money if they worried about or hated their homes, and that was a fact.

Lucy rounded a corner and found herself face to face with another mobster who had raised his gun at the same instant she had.  The two held each other in stand off.  The man, a rat-faced Italian fellow who might weight one hundred and thirty pounds sopping wet had the shakes.  She'd seen it before... men going slowly mad from prohibition.  Without a drink every now and again, some picked up the shakes and eventually became so listless they didn't want to live at all.  They'd lie around in gutters begging for drink until they turned yellow and died.  This man's face already had a yellow pallor.

"You picked a very bad building to hide in friend."  Lucy said, her gun held steady.

"You Lucky Lucy?"

Lucy narrowed her eyes.

"Red haired, short woman, super green eyes..."  He chortled, "Far too fucking cocky - that's what he said."

"He?"

"Black Betty wants to see you."

"I'll see her soon, but I ain't going no where with you."  Lucy said cooly.  "You put down your pea shooter and I promise you a real quick death.  Clean.  You won't feel a thing.  You have my word."

"Fuck you."  The rat-faced goomba spat back.

"Better than dying that slow death you're dying right now - ain't it?"

He seemed to consider this a moment, letting Lucy know how much pain he was really in.  "She's gonna give me some of the good stuff, I just gotta bring you to her so she can talk to you.  She don't wanna kill you.  Wants to cut a deal with you."

"What sorta deal could she hope to offer me?  She's in a losing position here.  Our people will have the city by end of day."

He chuckled.  "She said you'd say that.  Said to tell you that the woman in the cell in Chicago wasn't Durden's crew.  She's one of ours."

Lucy startled.  Her mind retracing the events of the day she met Jessica in the Chicago FBN lock up.  The fight in the cell with the Mousy Moll who knew Frank's last words.  Lucy's heart raced.  There was almost no way this Black Betty could know about that... unless... she was telling the truth.

"Even if I go with you - I can't stop Sineya and Cletus... I don't got that level of pull."

"You don't gotta stop anyone to get what you want to know.  You just gotta come."

"Where?"  Lucy's mind raced, putting together a plan in her head as fast as she could.  Praying silently that it would hold up when tested.

"We got a hide-out down by city park.  An old dinner, but it's gotta be just you and me.  We ain't bringing your boys."

Lucy played at hesitation and then, allowed her gun to spin around her finger as she put her hands up submissively.  "If you're lying to me... you're gonna wish that liver of yours broke open inside you and killed you."

He took Lucy's gun and then patted her down taking her two other guns and Frank's knife before putting the muzzle of his gun into her back and marching her back towards the door she'd entered through.  Silently she prayed Lei and Tony had come back and would stop this guy... or that Fritz was still in the same spot she'd last saw him so he could take a shot.  If neither thing were true then her plan to find Black Betty and get answers about Frank Dicaprio's final moments was going to devolve into her own kidnapping - right under the noses of her own crew.

Fritz narrowed his eyes with concern as he saw LuckyLucy walk out of the building she had stepped into. She was following a man whom he had not seen before. He immediately registered two things about the man. The first being that he was armed, judging by the way he kept his right hand pressed against his side. There definitely was a pistol holster in there. The second thing he noticed was that the man was dying. He barely had a week ahead of him. He had seen it happen to some of his own men in the trenches, especially the heavy drinkers once they had their supply cut-off. In the worst cases, he had put them out of their misery himself with a well-placed bullet to the head. 

He scanned the battlefield for any sign of the others. They could not let the man take Lucy wherever the fuck he was taking her unchecked. Perhaps he was just panicking, but he was unable to spot any of the others, and Fritz had but a moment to make a decision. He looked at the man, leading Lucy to a vehicle, looked at his leg and groaned. Fuck it, there was only one way to it, and he needed to get a move on. Shouldering his rifle once more, he stepped towards the ledge of his nest. He had prepared a rope-line to the ground previously in case he needed to get down in a hurry, but he had sincerely hopped he would not have to use it.

Swinging his good leg over the line, Fritz grasped it firmly in both hands and slid down the length of it in a cat-like manner. As soon as he hit the ground, his crippled leg gave way under him, and he suppressed a grunt of pain as he got back to his feet with the help of his cane. Fortunately, it seemed that he had not been spotted yet. Out of all the crew members on the job, he had wracked up the least amount of heat from the rogues due to working behind the scenes, and maybe, just maybe that would allow him to follow the mysterious man, and LuckyLucy to wherever they were going.

If he met any of the others on the way, he would pick them up. If he didn't, well, he hoped that he had not been spotted. Human flesh does not stand up well against lead after all. He got into his vehicle and turned it on, looking into the mirrors to check if he had been spotted. Fritz sat in the car and let the engine idle. He intended to let the duo have a head-start before he started following them. Hopefully some of the others would catch up with him before that happened......