:Sly looked around at the flame-lit faces:

"So is that clear with everyone?  You all understand your jobs?"

:The three men nodded earnestly at their boss:

"Good.  Then we'll meet here at the same time tomorrow.  Don't be late."

************************

:The next day, when the four men were to meet back up, only three were present:

"Where's Dayman?" Sly asked.

"We haven't heard from him, boss," TheGodfatherLives replied.  "We figured that you would know."

"We'll give him ten more minutes, but then we've got to go on without him."

:But when ten more minutes had come and gone, the gang was forced to set out for Delaware City without their friend.  Speeding along the country roads, TheGodfatherLives shouted back from behind the wheel at DarkSpike and Sly, who occupied the wide back seat:

"Just how are we going to make money just by torching a rival's business, anyway, boss?"

"Anything that you find, you may keep, TheGodfatherLives," DarkSpike answered.  "The posessions of the Fight Club are forfeit."

"But more importantly," Sly said, "this setback for their organization helps our own.  Whether they keep their books there, a drug stash, or it's simply a hideout, it will give us at least a lucrative benefit.  That advantage is where we will find the increase in profits.  Besides, I'm paying you to make sure that this is executed effectively, so just do your best, and you've got nothing to worry about.  You'll make money"

:A small gang for such a job, Sly knew that they would have to rely on the speed and surprise in order to be successful.  He instructed TheGodfatherLives to drop he and DarkSpike off at opposite ends of the building:

"TheGodfatherLives, you're going to wait with the car," he went on.  "Keep it running.  DarkSpike, it's 20:28.  At 20:35, we start lighting fires."  Mumbling as Sly stepped out of the car, he added, "I can't fucking beLIEVE that Dayman isn't here...mumble grumble grumble..."

**************************

:Looking at his watch waiting for their syncronized time, Sly fingered the packs of matches, the flares, and the glass bottles of gasoline that he had laid out before him.  He also nervously touched the one grenade inside his jacket pocket that he only planned to use in the case of an emergency.  The clock turned, and Sly stood from his hiding place: 

:He smashed the rear-most window and threw in the sealed glass bottle of gas as hard as he could.  He smiled, hearing the shatter.  As quickly as he could with his shaking hands, he lit a flare with the matches and tossed it inside and he smiled wider as he saw the spreading glow and felt the warmth on his face: 

:After repeating the process on two more windows, and with one left untouched, he had run out of gasoline bottles.  But the adrenaline from the process had worked him up so much, he pulled the pin on the grenade and tossed it in through the last window.  It exploded just as DarkSpike rounded the corner, sprinting.  He had taken a wide berth around the building, but he detonation still blew him off his feet and sent him rolling into the adjacent building.  Sly ran to his side:

"Durdens are coming...they were chasing me..." DarkSpike weakly warned.  As soon as he said this, Sly looked up to see four armed Fight Club members rounding the corner, coughing.  He fired two shots and dragged DarkSpike behind a nearby dumpster which immediately started shaking, riddled with machine gun fire.

"God dammit," Sly laughed, "I should have saved that damn grenade."

"THAT'S what that was?!" DarkSpike coughed back.  "You're an animal, boss.  Listen, I'm pretty sure that we managed to find their armory.  I don't know if we'll make it out of this one, boss."

:Just then the pair heard 4 distinct gunshots, louder than the others, followed by silence.  Sly risked a peek:

"You son of a bitch," he said.  "I should kill ya.  DarkSpike, look who it is."

:The two rose and saw Dayman smiling and standing over four dead bodies, smoking revolver in hand:

"Sorry I was late, boss.  Looks like I made it just in time, though.  But we'd still better get out of here before more Durdens come.  I've seen swarms of 400 or more before. 

So the ran out towards the street to find TheGodfatherLives, who was honking his horn and revving his engine, very excited as he stared out the window at the rising fire and billows of smoke: 

"You see, TheGodfatherLives," Sly said, satisfied as he settled in to his seat, "that turned out to be their armory.  That oughta set them back QUITE a bit."