Three swift knocks onto the worn out wooden door were followed by a drunken bellow coming from within.

“Yeahhhh.  Whoo is ett?”

The sounds of glass being broken only led the person outside to believe empty beer and liquor bottles were the casualties from the owner of the voice as he stomped through the house, coming to answer the door.  The door swung open with about as much gusto as the old man could manage before leaning against the door frame. He managed to take the cigarette into his trembling hands to give the lady a once over before the perverted smile came across his face.

“Whatt can I do ya fer sugar?”

“Hello Gary.”

“Well you sure seem to know who I am sugar, but I don’t think I’m buying whatever you’re sellin’.”

The sunglasses hid her eyes full of disgust and contempt for the man standing before her, but Nikita kept a straight face as she removed them.  

“Let’s try again shall we?  Hello father…”

His voice was strangled as if he couldn’t breathe as he got out the single word.

“Nikita…?”

That was the last thing the man saw or heard before she pushed him inside before it was permanent lights out for him.  

Nikita fought the memories of the previous day when she saw her abusive foster father for the first time in fourteen years.  The mere satisfaction of taking all the training she’d acquired over the past several years, balling it up into pure rage to handle that lowlife scum then pulling the trigger ending his pitiful existence, was in fact a bit draining for the moment.  Nikita made sure to cover her tracks, so she could visit the cemetery one last time before leaving New Jersey for good.

She sat there letting a deep sigh escape as she brushed at the tombstone, having already cleared off the vines that had wildly grown covering his name.  Her palm made the letters visible as she brushed the remains of dirt from the stone.  ‘Daniel Monroe, Beloved Son’ it read.  In the past nine years, Nikita had learned to school her emotions preventing others to know what and how she was feeling.  Yet as she kneeled before the one person she had pledged her life to, she couldn’t stop the slow falling trail of tears for all the things that could have been, and for all the memories that were.  Nikita sat in silence, completely unaware someone was across the cemetery watching her for some time now.

A glow of the cigarette was all that prevented him from being another ghost out here. Unusually reluctant to wear a hat of any sort, that had now been done away with. A light breeze hustled through where he was standing, edging the back of his collar up a little and wished to do the same to the brim of the black fedora. But alas, it was futile. Pulled down tight to conceal his face, it was. No exhale from mother nature was going to make it that easy for his face to be revealed.

The place brought back memories. As he leaned his forearm against the hardness of the tree trunk, that did too. He remembered a name. And an unfortunate end. A beautiful face. For a friend and her lover. His friend, both, as she loved hers with every forbidden inch of her being. Almost to the point she burst apart at her own stitches like a rag doll, as she watched him hang about in likeness from a once beautifully memorable apple tree. Her own fate later sealed in a similar fashion.

It was just how things went sometimes though, he thought, as he glanced down, kicking at the dirt with the pointed of his oxfords. They were a new pair, yet to be fully broken in. Hurt a lot when he wanted to get moving a little. Life, he thought, it was just one big will-o'-the-whisp. A fleeting bit of energy here and there, and over there again. You never truly could get your sweaty palms around it long enough to hold it to your chest. To tell it your secrets, as it listened and waited with bated breath. Death came for us all, and like in his friend Mamie's story, for some far too early.

As he glanced up again, his eyes retraced the area she should've still been. Where she last was, only moments earlier. The tombstone likely still carried a piece of her, and maybe more than one. But her physicality was nowhere his vision could seek. His startled response had him out of cover more than he wanted to be. Than he should've been. He never really was good at staying hidden, and the glowing lucky strike snipe showed he was a poor choice at a stealthy approach on the best of days.

As his eyes darted around, and as another gust of wind picked up to tickle his flush cheeks and ears, he felt it. Like a friend who'd come to dinner just to eat your share, a potential gift upon entry, in the back. It felt solid. Maybe a gun, or a loose enough effort at a bladed melee weapon from someone who knew just the right amount of pressure to use to make the impression they wanted. A gift if you weren't afraid of the life to come, and were almost there, maybe with a dipped toe or nineteen already in Purgatory.

His hands slowly raised in the air. The cigarette was the last of his concerns now, which slipped out between his lips on a one way trip south as his mouth slowly gaped open. The ghosts of lovers come and gone haunting the immediate area likely now turned perky shadowed spectator. He heard the howl of a dog off in the background, as more pressure was applied. The thick layer of his double breasted overcoat a welcome addition to the nights unfolding festivities, he thought, as a voice finally spoke into his ear.

Danny had been a good kid. His parents joy.

And you took that away from them. He’d be alive if it wasn’t for you.
“Stop it” Bellona whispered. A couple of heads turned in her direction as she passed. A little embarrassment was well worth silencing the intrusive thoughts. She kept her head down and kept walking.

Since the day his mother called her bawling. The little voice started talking. It was quiet at first. Just an occasional reminder that the world would be a little brighter without her. That she had taken a little bit of joy. A horrible curse on his parents. Forcing them to outlive their child.

"It's easy money, Danny. You wanna look after your family right? Your mother isn't getting any younger. You gotta take of her" That’s what she told him. He was their lookout. Back when she still ran petty scams on the streets. Her family before the family.

She wrung her hands around the bouquet. The paper crinkled and her heels clacked against the pavement as she made her way to Danny’s grave.

Would he forgive her? She wondered. Danny had been a good kid. What did it matter? She couldn’t just ask him. Not until her ticket was punched, at least.

“It’s easy money, Danny”

She picked up her pace. The clattering of her heels against the sidewalk couldn’t drown out her voice echoing inside her head. They had needed a lookout. How was she supposed to know that he’d get a taste for the life? It was only a few smash-and-grabs. Nobody got hurt. They always gave him a fair cut. Why didn’t you quit Danny? The gang broke up. That was your cue to take the money and never look back.

“You wanna look after your family right?”

    A chill swelled in her. It flowed through her veins to her extremities. Look what you’ve wrought Bellona.  A woman knelt at his grave. Must have been the girl Danny told her about. You’re the reason she’s crying. She’d have three kids and a yard by now. Couldn’t let him get a good job at the docks? It’s not flashy but it has a hell of a lot better mortality rate.She pulled a cigarette from her purse. Bellona could wait to pay her respects. She’d done some terrible things. The least she could do was leave the woman to her grieving.

    “Your mother isn’t getting any younger”

    The smoke filled her lungs, granting her body a short reprieve on the cold. Her body and mind focused on breathing in the sweet mentholated smoke and blowing it back out again. The smoke danced on the air, fading away into nothingness. The cherry smouldered, glowing to life when she puffed. Bellona couldn’t help but watch the woman. Danny always tried to get her to come over for dinner. Meet the love of his life. Bellona had an excuse for every occasion. Work, mostly. I’m an associate. I need to show them what I’m made of, Once I’m made. I’ll take you both out for dinner. Wherever you want, on me….Except Freddy’s. We’re going someplace nice.

    “You gotta take care of her”

    The smouldering cherry kissed the filter and Bellona flicked it onto the sidewalk. It was time to be a big girl. No reason she couldn’t leave some flowers. She approached the woman, making no attempt to hide her movements but not loud enough to startle her either.

    “Mind if I leave these here?” Bellona asked, holding out the bouquet of flowers.

Someone was watching her, of that she could be sure.  She glanced up towards the right, barely through glassy eyes focusing, finally seeing two people with their heads down walking away from the cemetery, and a lady carrying flowers slowing approaching the end of the row of tombstones.  Nikita didn't give the passersby much thought as she turned back to the wording chiseled into the concrete marker.  Perhaps the eerie feeling of being watched was simply others grieving over their losses as well, so Nikita shrugged it off.  It had been some time passing again as she shut out the world, drowning herself with memories once again.

Then she heard the soft crunch sounds, briefly wondering if the unknown intruder had the audacity to come interrupt her after some time just finding the courage to face her.  Perhaps her skills were dminishing somewhat because she could have sworn the feeling of being watched was from a distance, yet as a voice spoke softly, Nikita glanced back up to her right to see the young lady who had been across the cemetery.  The words seemed kind enough until she had focused on the face attached to the low voice.

She wasn't expecting to see anyone here.  How many times in the past three years had Nikita visited his grave, seeing no signs of any other visitors, no flowers, footprints, nothing?  And of all days?  The day she came to say goodbye, and leave this God forsaken place... now she runs into someone paying their respects?  The timing of it all left Nikita on high alert.  That sense of being watched came back as she stood up, glanced around her surroundings then to meet the woman's apprehensive gaze.  Of course she didn't recognize the woman, but she didn't really meet many people of Daniel's life back then. His work was too secretive as was hers, so she never questioned him on things because she herself didn't want and couldn't be questioned regarding her work life.

"How did you know Daniel?" Nikita had wanted to ask desperately, but didn't.  She was burying her past here, saying goodbye to the pain of losing the man she loved, saying goodbye to this wretched state.  The place where her pain began, so it was only fitting to be the place where her pain ended.  She simply nodded in reply to the woman, not confident in her own speaking abilities in that moment as the tears finally subsided, she was just left with a numbness, a void, a big hole in her heart.

The woman sighed heavily as she placed the flowers by Daniel's grave then turned back to Nikita as if she wanted to say something, but just couldn't find the words perhaps.  Once the woman had departed, Nikita just couldn't bring herself to leave just yet.  This was a permanent goodbye, and time she moved on with her life.  Some place new, some place far enough away that she didn't feel the memories creep up on her in the middle of the night.  Nikita needed something different, and it was time.  She knelt down once more to caress his name on the tombstone one last time.  Bowing her head slowly, she whispered softly as the tears began again.

"My heart will never be the same.  Goodbye Daniel."

Nikita glanced around the cemetery as the night skies were in the beginning stages to emerge.  She didn't know which scent she caught first, the stench of cigarette smoke wafting across the air, or the strong smelling cologne the unwanted observer was doused in.  Nikita stayed kneeled down in front of Daniel's tombstone, the tears having stopped the moment the scents wafted in her direction.  This time it felt different because she was being watched from a distance.  All her senses had tensed up to be on guard in that moment, her training having prepared her to be on the defense no matter the situation, yet the fact this intruder was disturbing something very private to her, it angered Nikita as she blew out a breath.

The sunset was in her favor that evening, which also showed how long she'd sat there consumed with memories, by casting a slight darkness over the cemetery.  The beginnings of nighttime, where she could easily maneuver about the cemetery grounds unseen, but not yet dark enough that she needed a flashlight.  The shadows of the trees scattered about the grounds was enough to give her some cover as she moved away from his grave, to stand at the end of the row of tombstones.  The unwanted observer was staked out by a tree near the south entrance of the cemetery.  The glowing light of the cigarette was barely visible in the colors across the skies from the setting sun, but she saw it clear enough to know exactly where they were standing.

Nikita knew this cemetery quite well unfortunately, but now used it to her advantage as she crept over towards the person leaning up against the tree not some few yards away.  Her careful and stealthy approach was barely even a whisper of noise, next to nothing at all really.  Nikita withdrew the .45 from her waistband as she got within a few feet of the person.  The size and build made it known that this was a man, and not the young woman she interacted with much earlier.  The fedora he wore was covering his face, so Nikita wasn't able to make out his identity just yet.  She shoved the barrel against the overcoat the man sported, with enough pressure to alert him of her presence.  Mission accomplished she'd say as she noticed the cigarette quiver then fall to the ground forgotten.  Her voice was borderline rage as she quipped the words.

"Who the hell are you, and what do you want?!"

"Woah, easy tiger." Joe said with a sense of calm. You didn't get to his position by being afraid of people sticking a gun in your ribs. He knew you had to keep your cool, in all situations. He didn't adhere to that though, especially when he figured it fine to lose his. But when he was under fire, he tried to stay calm. At least until he could return the favor.

"I'm Joe Adonis. Billy's right hand. Well, his main confidant. He already has a right hand. I can only imagine what he does with that thing."

A chuckle eased out of his lips. The snipe being where it was, a bonus. He really should give up the habit. Had thought about it once or twice. This business though, it was a stress pressure cooker. The damned things helped him keep his head when he'd otherwise likely lose his shit. Which he was hoping Nikita had a handle on right about now, her own sense of calm.

"I just came to check in on you. I know this probably isn't the best time. Hell, when is the best time. But I have something you'er going to want to hear."

His hands were still raised. The gun, still lodged into his back. He hoped his words made sense to her. He knew all too well what emotions could do to ones judgement. He was probably an evening away from a half a bottle of doing something stupid himself. But, it wasn't him he was worried about. It was the new recruit. And her ability to tell friend from foe.

Her ability to trust people was very limited these days, but at the mention of Billy by this stranger caused Nikita to keep her grip on the .45 that was still pointed at his back firmly pressed unyielding.  At first thought, she didn't register the fact that 'Billy' was short for William, but the man whom she now called her Boss was in fact one of the very few people Nikita was able to trust at this point in time, it took a few seconds to have the nickname click.  Only then did her grip on the weapon relax enough that he let out a breath of relief perhaps.  She did tell Mr. Bowden that she needed to make a quick trip out of the state, albeit not that far just the next state over.

Nikita completely lowered her hand and weapon, tucked it back in the back of her waistline before taking a step back.  She waited for Adonis to turn around while the anger began to minimize.  She should have considered that her bossman would keep an eye on her to some extent when Nikita told him why she was traveling back to New Jersey for a couple days or so.  After giving it more thought, she had to acknowledge the right hand man here was a bit amusing in his own right.  Nikita did have to smirk though at being checked up on because she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

"Alright Mr. Adonis.  You say you work alongside my boss, so let's hear what Mr. Bowden thought was urgent enough news to send you, his confidant, after me personally."

Nikita had no idea what was so urgent that her new boss would have this man travel this distance to tell her in a cemetery instead of back at the organization's headquarters in a couple days at most when she returned.  She stood there waiting with her arms crossed while he exhaled the deep breath he'd been holding before making any efforts to turn and face her.

Before turning around, Joe made sure to fix his tie. It had been annoying him ever since the car ride over. His driver was only ever a phone call away and even then he usually slept in the back of the Yellow cab they roamed the streets in. No rest for the wicked, is what Joe kept drumming into the guy. Maybe a little too much, as before he exited the vehicle Del Rossi made sure to tell his boss that his tie was bent.

His hands were kept high as he slowly turned. The weapon was no longer in his back, which gave him the impression he was fine to face her. He'd spoken his name before she'd even seen his face. He wondered if she even knew who he was. Maybe his name was out there enough that she'd recognize it. But not everyone worked in this life as deeply as he did to know who he was. Not yet, anyways.

With his hands slowly dropping, he made a one-eighty about-face, with the same leisurely control. As they finally made eye contact, Joe flashed a smile.

"It's good to see you too." Joe said, trying to lighten the mood. For what he really came to say he believed wouldn't be taken too well already.

"In the business we're in, you come across information." Joe was getting straight to the point. He didn't want to run around in circles. Or speak in riddles. The information he had wasn't the kind that sat well over a coffee and some idle chit chat.

"I have something on the murderer you may want to know."

Joe's smile eased into a straight faced look. She'd already gotten the better of him. His lack of effort to find out more about her from Bowden a mistake he'd have to deal with later. As he tried to sense her reaction, he was also hoping that same mistake wouldn't cost him more than a cigarette.

"The one who set him in that tombstone."

Nikita kept her eyes alert quickly scanning the immediate area while the stranger still had his back to her then focused her gaze back onto him. No one would really know of her connection to her new boss except perhaps a trusted person, like a confidant and right hand man.  Add to the fact no one would really know to find her here either, other than her new bossman, gave a little more insight to believing this man was who he said he was.  The tension coarsing through her veins seemed to relax more at his jovial quip when Adonis began to turn about to face her.

She crossed her arms as she relaxed her stance, but resisted a smile in return.  To be honest she just wasn't in the mood to be smiling, especially not while here in the cemetery.  Certainly not while having to say her final goodbye to a loved one.  Nikita pushed all those emotions into the back of her mind, and made an attempt to pay serious attention to Adonis.  Evidently there was something both he and Mr. Bowden thought of great importance to tell her, and to tell her whilst she was in the midst of a cemetery was showing her just how serious it truly was.

"Yes.  I get that information flows when you least expect it."

She let her impatience get the best of her with the interruption there, but nonetheless he continued on with the topic at hand.  When Adonis indicated he had information on who had taken her Daniel away from her, Nikita dropped her arms to her sides, clenched her hands into fists, no longer relaxed in any capacity whatsoever.  She had no choice though, but to wait for him to finish what he had to say before she allowed herself to feel anything.  All she wanted to do was to grab this man by the arms, shake the information outta him at a much faster speed than he was choosing to do, but knowing his importance to the organization she now worked for, Nikita didn't think that action would be in her best interests right now, especially given she had no clue to what he was going to tell her.  When he seemed to pause thoughtfully, Nikita couldn't help but ask.

"Alright. Tell me then."

"Not here." Joe replied, sternly. His attitude having quickly changed.

Business in this life wasn't something Joe took lightly. It meant many things to him. Life and death for one, and he saw them that way, as two sides of the same coin. It also meant respect, and loyalty. Two things that if somebody messed with when dealing with him, they'd likely find themselves floating face down in the Delaware.

What he had to say touched on all those topics, and he needed to be in a place more appropriate for a discussion of the sort. As at the end of the day, anyone working for Bowden was his business and people who tried fucking with them were essentially fucking with his own affairs. And that was precisely how he saw it.

"Care for a bagel?"

She kept calm.  Years of training did that for her, but in the moment just now it was a severe testing of her patience and limits because Nikita needed to know what happened to Daniel.  It would help putting everything behind her once and for all, as well as the pain over losing him so quickly.  Sometimes she toyed with the thoughts that she would be better off not knowing the exact details of his death and what led up to it all, but then she went back and forth wondering what truly happened and felt she couldn't go on unless she found out what happened to him.

Nikita warred herself inside wanting to force the issue, to demand to know the information right now in the cemetery, but the calm, cool and collected side of her knew that being patient would eventually get her the information she desperately wanted to know.  With these thoughts in the forefront of her mind, Nikita nodded in reply to the seriousness in his voice indicating the cemetery wasn't the place to discuss this.  

She thought about where they could go to discuss things, and briefly wondered about the used car she recently had purchased to drive back to New Jersey, knowing it wouldn't be a big loss if she'd just leave it abandoned.  She sure as hell wasn't bringing her brand new 1936 Chrysler C7 convertible because there was no telling what mischief she would have gotten up to anyways.   Nikita wasn't entirely sure to just go off with this man though, but given the circumstances what choice did she really have, especially if she wanted to know the truth.  

Her eyebrow arched slightly and quickly at his offhand comment of bagels.  Bagels?  This man before her was just highly unpredictable, and she was learning that pretty damn fast in just the short time she had interacted with Adonis.  Once again nodding, Nikita this time spoke up.

"Well where exactly did you have in mind Mr. Adonis?  I've got transportation, but not adverse to ditching it if the occasion called for it.  I will be fine riding back with you to Philly if that is what you want."

As soon as the words were passing her lips, Nikita instantly regretted not knowing how thing crazy man drove.  What if she was getting into a car with a wreckless man?  She shook her head waiting for him to lead the way to wherever they were headed for...bagels.