The last sip of lukewarm coffee slid down Reverend Wilson's throat as Louis Del Rossi pulled up to the front of the Midas Air terminal. The Reverend handed his empty coffee cup to Franklin and gave him a stern final reminder. 

"Don't let her out of your sight. I don't care what she says. If she goes, you go. Got it?"

"Jesus, Rev, I got it. Go do your thing already."

Wilson sighed, not entirely pleased with the detail he was leaving in charge. But, it was Sunday, and the Reverend had business on Sunday.

With a fairly good-sized leather bag in his hand, Rev opened the passenger door of the Alfa Romeo and slid inside. 

"I should have told you to bring that old beater truck of yours. Philadelphia Heights isn't exactly known for it's kindly neighborhoods."

He shut the door and settled in. Rev liked Del Rossi. He was a man of action, not so much on words. The two spent a good amount of time together, being the chief security for Adontoro. As the car rolled away from the curb, Reverend Wilson took a newspaper from his coat.

"Thanks again for the ride. I appreciate your man Artem agreeing to fix my Plymouth. He seems like a solid guy."

"He knows a thing or two about the business of cars. But he'll never truly know them."

Louis Del Rossi didn't speak much. Adonis hadn't heard more than a paragraph leave his lips in total. In general he feel the need to speak. Most people irked him and the rest he'd only really needed to deal with because of the business he was in. He drove. Simple. But with Ray snuffed out of the life and his ability to protect Joe and assist Ilaria evident on more than one occasion he'd been promoted. Kind of.

His main role was to drive Joe from A to Z and everywhere in between. He was good at it. You could even say a beast a lifetime ago. An accident put him out of commission for a good while before meeting Joe outside a New York jail house. Now, he was a gun for hire as much as a set of gloved hands.

With Reverend, Louis felt at ease. The two shared something not many others could relate to. They were both not just employed for, but were committed to putting the life of another first. And not just that. They were very skilled and at the top of the game when it came to what they did, and that shared world class ability had an immediate effect on the level of respect Del Rossi had for Rev. So much so, he spoke to him more than anyone else.

With a turn of the key, the engine ticked over. Boy was she a beauty. With each careful manipulation of her, she spoke a language Del Rossi understood and appreciated more than anything else. Her voice called to him in his dreams. Her body had his hand running over it more than what was necessary. He stole moments with her at the airport, just the two of them, that others might find weird. But he loved her. And seeing as Ilaria was the catalyst for his new found happiness, joining the Rev on this Sunday drive was an immediate affirmative.

The car glided across the tarmac towards the exit and with a small bounce down the connecting road they were now rolling through the streets of Philadelphia. Where, Louis didn't know. All he knew was his services were needed, which had him wear a pair of gloves he hadn't for a good while, one he'd kept locked away, unable to face the shadow of life that had came and gone in a poetic tryst with stolen vehicles and a white stallion that still held his heart.

Rev lightly smiled an acknowledgement at Louis' words. There were people that really liked cars, and then there was Del Rossi. He looked at cars the way Rev's father looked at his mother; a particular brand of admiration and respect that seemed to be falling by the wayside these days- for humans more than cars. For the Reverend, though, cars were replaceable- humans were not.  That was exactly the reason he made this trip; every Sunday afternoon after lunch, across the railroad tracks to a run down old house in Philadelphia Heights to visit his mother.  Around the neighborhood, the 82 year old woman was known as Mama Tess, but to Reverend Wilson, she was just Mama.

The drive to Philadelphia Heights took about twenty minutes, during which Del Rossi listened to the over-unders on the days horse races on the radio, while Rev flipped through the newspaper. Being off-duty could be both pleasant and unpleasant at the same time. Del Rossi and the Reverend both took their duties very seriously and had developed a certain bond with their employers, so leaving them alone or in someone else's charge wasn't the most comfortable of situations, especially for Rev.  Joe could handle himself just fine if Del Rossi wasn't around, but Ilaria was different.  Sure, she could handle a gun, but that wasn't enough for Rev; especially given her current condition. But, Franklin seemed like a decent enough guy, and when he had left, Ilaria looked fairly busy, so he told himself things would be fine.

As the Alpha bumped gently over the railroad tracks, Rev looked over the top of the paper.

"Take a left over here on Belmont Avenue."

He started folding up the paper and shoved it into a front pocket of the leather bag. He then reached up and unbuttoned his charcoal gray trench coat, revealing a black button-up shirt with a crisp, white clerical collar. Louis gave him a curious side glance.

"My mother is 82 years old and wanted me to be a preacher.  Man, I ain't got the heart to tell her I spend more time sending folks to the Lord instead of leading them there."

Already, the neighborhood began looking rough. Houses were consistently old and in disrepair. Small groups of young men seemed to be roaming with nothing to do but look for trouble to make. They would all stop and stare as the Alpha rolled by, and Rev would make direct eye contact with each of them; a non-verbal warning that clearly screamed "stay away."

With another left and a slight right, they arrived at a small bungalow style house at the end of a dead-end street. Rev looked at Louis as he rolled the car to a stop at the curb.

"You hungry? She's usually got a pretty nice spread on the table."

"Like a ghost." Louis replied in a thick Italian accent.

A turn of the key and the engine was off. Del Rossi would usually leave the keys in it given where he'd park the thing ninety-nine percent of the time. The Alpha never really purred to a silent standstill anywhere but the Midas Airport hangar, where company cars and motorcycles were usually kept under guard by extension of airport security.

With the neighborhood they'd just cruised through fresh in his mind, Louis reached his hand towards the key in the ignition when he sensed a presence to his left. He knew it before the words escaped the set of lips that preceded saliva splashing against his cheek.

"Out of the car, now!" An urban sounding male instructed. He didn't sound old. Without looking Del Rossi would guess early twenties.

Then, the cold spot against his temple. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, just not a very recent one for Del Rossi. He remembered the last time someone had a gun to his temple quite fondly. It had to do with a leggy blonde and some gun play added four play. He wasn't there for the blonde though and nor was she there for him, not at first.

After she shot his client and pressed the cold steel of the Browning Baby into the back of his head, he knew picking up this wigged street tramp in his Yellow taxi on the way back from a job was a bad idea. But bad choices led to know what not to do next time and that incident became the catalyst for his rule system when dealing with clients moving forward, the alive and paying types. So ending the day by burying a lady of the night in a shallow ditch outside New York wasn't so bad in hindsight.

Louis felt the gat press harder against his head which had him moving slightly towards Rev. He flicked him a quick glance to see how he was taking things, his ear almost touching his shoulder.

"I SAID OUT OF THE FUCKING CAR, NOW!"

"God dammit" Rev thought to himself as the young punk approached the car, weapon in hand.

"You too, old man!"

Another voice shouted from beside Reverend Wilson, who rolled his eyes.

"Oh, good. There are two of you."

Looking at Del Rossi, he spoke with a trace of exaggeration, but also with a cocky grin.

"We better do what they say, Louis.  Don't want these tough guys having to shoot us, do we?"

Reverend put his hands up slowly, reaching for the handle to open the door. The kid started to take a step back, seeming certain that he had the upper hand. Taking the opportunity, Rev shoved the door hard and used it to knock the kid in the stomach, which sent his gun flying out of his hand and scattering to the pavement. The would-be carjacker beside Del Rossi looked up, surprised. He would later very much regret taking his eyes off Louis Del Rossi.

Reverend Wilson jumped out of the car and grabbed the kid by the throat; roughly, but not hard enough to hurt him. 

"The fuck you think you're doing pulling iron in front of Mama Tess' house, huh? You think you're some kind of gangster?"

Louis could see the kids eyes bulge and look over towards Reverend as he flicked his dark brown cap a little upwards and out of his eyes to catch a better view. That split second was all Del Rossi needed to reach his left arm up and jam it into the assailants armpit as he grabbed and twisted his wrist back with his right, the gun dropping onto the car floor as reality began hitting home for him too. These guys really weren't to be fucked with, over a car or otherwise.

As Rev Wilson gave his attacker a stern talking to, Louis used his position of power to ram the other guys head into the side of the door repeatedly until the legs gave out from underneath the twenty something's body and he fell to the ground, forcing Louis to release his grip.

With a quick bit of maneuvering, Del Rossi sprung out of the convertible and immediately pulled the weary and bloodied carjacker turned victim up by his shirt collar and began dragging him around to where Rev was, past the front of the car. Now becoming more conscious, a hand grabbed out towards whatever it could find to stop this, a ring scratching a line across the shiny and recently polished bonnet.

Technically it was Del Rossi's fault. He should've just continued beating the shit out of him where he lay or kicked his ass in the direction of the open street entrance, releasing him and hoping he'd learnt a lesson. Now, he had no choice. It had to be done.

As he removed a Walther PP from his waistband, Louis propped his target up against the bonnet and pressed the pistol into the side of his quickly swelling and bloodied cheek.

By the time Louis had dragged the other poor shit around the front of the car, the squirming young punk in Reverend Wilson's bear paw grip was calling him sir and looked fairly close to pissing himself.

The screech of metal on metal made everyone stop what they were doing and look at the Alpha with a heavy silence in the air when it stopped.  The thug on the ground closed his eyes, with a realization that his life was probably over. The Reverend, however, burst out laughing.

"Oh boy, your day just went from bad to worse.  See, I was pretty sure I could convince Mr. Del Rossi here to let you two go with your lives; but now...

The Walther came out and glistened in Louis' hand. Still smiling sardonically, Reverend Wilson chuckled.

"Well, it might be a little harder.  Hell, I'm just about tempted to let him shoot you.  But, that might upset my Mama in there."

He looked at both young men, whose skin seemed to go three shades more pale.

"There it is.  You didn't realize I was Mama Tess' baby boy, did you?"

"No, Reverend, we...we just saw the car...we just thought..."

Rev cut him off.

"Just thought it would be easier to jack a couple of suits than try to make something of yourselves? Aw, man, forget it.  You ain't worth it. Go ahead, Louis."

Before there was a chance to pull the trigger, the sound of a creaky door caused Rev to whirl around.  A quiet voice came from a dark doorway.

"Reverend, baby, is that you?"

"Yeah, Mama.  I'm coming in, just saying hello to some of the neighborhood boys.  I'll be right there, don't come out- it's windy."

He flashed a look back at the two thugs.

"You two bitches better be here tomorrow afternoon, four o'clock sharp, and ready to work your asses off. If not, I'll let Mr. Del Rossi here do what he does best and track you down, then he can do the other thing he does best, and you don't want to find out what that is. You got me?"

With that, he clapped a hand on Louis' back.

"Do what you want, then join us on inside."

Cooly, he walked past the boys and into the broken gate toward his Mama's house.

It was tough. Real tough. Del Rossi had to make a decision between being a stand up guy and letting these guys leave, standing up. A compromise, maybe. He let the gun dangle to his side at the relief of the offender who began straightening his shirt, and as Louis stepped back a few feet the sound of a single gunshot rang out in the area. One would leave without a limp.

The bullet lodged itself into the young man's thigh as he let out a shriek and fell to the ground, again. Louis took a deep, satisfied breath in and even cracked a slight smile as he tucked away the gun, glancing around the immediate area for any witnesses. Still highly pleased, Louis walked with a pep in his step towards the gate, fixing his attire as he did.

He'd never been to this part of town before. The people he usually dealt with weren't of the African American community. Russians, mostly, and of course Italians and some Jews. The front yard of the house he was now walking through was bare. He frowned at the sight of absolutely no garden. It was all concrete, save for a dying tomato plant that seemed to have grown up through the cracks of the neglected and paved area. It had wrapped itself around the railing of the porch, and just like the neighborhood in general, it looked like it was hanging on for dear life.

A sigh escaped him. Not at the poverty of the place, but at the graffiti he was now looking at as he stepped up onto the small porch area that had a couple of chairs set out overlooking the yard and facing the street where the car was parked. Louis couldn't make out the words but he'd seen them on other fences in the vicinity when driving through to get here.

Before entering, Del Rossi looked back towards the car with a shake of his head. He should've shot the other prick too, he thought. Off further in the distance he noticed the two thugs making their way back down the street, one being helped by the other.

"They best be here tomorrow." Louis said under his breath before turning and stepping cautiously inside the house.

"There's my boy.  Look at you, all shined up and lookin' so fine.  Come here, boy."

Tess Wilson was but a wisp of a woman, standing no more than 5 feet tall, and couldn't have weighed 90 pounds soaking wet.  As Rev leaned down to hug her, it seemed somewhat unbelievable that a man that size could come from a woman as small as her. She wore a blue housecoat with white socks under a pair of black slippers. In her right hand, she gripped a wooden cane. She could barely hear at all, which Rev was somewhat grateful for when he heard a blast from Louis' weapon. Her face showed her age and years of struggle, but it was bright with a smile as she looked up at her son.

"I brought someone for lunch, Mama.  I didn't figure you'd mind."

Rev moved aside and gestured toward Del Rossi, who was coming through the screen door.

"Oh? Who is your friend, baby?"

Her voice was sweet and soft, but had a witty sharpness to it.

"This is Mr. Louis Del Rossi, a friend of mine from work."

Tess straightened up as much as she could and smiled kindly.

"Mr Del Rossi, it's nice to have you in my home. Do you work at the church, too?"

Rev stifled a laugh, managing just a chuckle.

"Mama, Mr. Del Rossi works for Mr. Adonis- remember I told you about him, and his wife Miss Ilaria?"

"Ohh, your other job.  Yes, I remember." Tess looked over to Louis. "My son is a fine pastor, you know. If you haven't been to one of his church services, you missin' out.  Come on now, I got lunch on the table."

The older woman moved past Rev, toddling toward the small kitchen.

"Show Mr. Del Rossi where the bathroom is and you two go on and get washed up."

She seemed like a lovely women from first impressions. A little naive but she couldn't be blamed. And sometimes, as they said, ignorance was bliss. Some souls mightn't be able to handle the reality of the work they did. In fact, most wouldn't, so Louis just played along with some nods.

"Mr Del Rossi, it's nice to have you in my home. Do you work at the church, too?"

Rev interjected for him, which was good as he probably would've said something to put his foot in it. He wasn't a big talker in general and having to think quick on his feet to lie just wasn't his thing. Truth was simple. It was easy. It made sense.

"Ohh, your other job.  Yes, I remember."

Maybe it wasn't all smoke and mirrors. Louis had been standing tall the while time, his hands clasped in front of him, just listening and watching the two converse in-between taking a look around the place Del Rossi was believing Rev likely called home at some point.

"Show Mr. Del Rossi where the bathroom is and you two go on and get washed up."

After being shown the bathroom and left to his own devices, Del Rossi closed the door behind him. He approached the sink and loosely rolled back the sleeves on his button down shirt that had a black vest hugging it against his torso. He certainly looked the part, albeit a little unique. That was him though, he always kind of just stuck out no matter where he was or what he was doing, attire and personality.

With a flick of the wrist the pipes sounded like they were choking before water started slowly flowing out of the faucet. A few seconds under the water to pool some in his hands before he splashed the refreshing aqua against his face. The same again. He then rested his hands on the basin, glaring into the mirror before him, his shiny slicked back hair looking like he'd taken to it with shoe polish.

Louis rubbed at his nine o'clock shadow and thin moustache, thinking about how much he really really wanted to shoot that fuckin' kid again. Maybe he was too soft on him. Maybe one in the chest would've been better. He was envisioning it anyways. He could even smell the smoking gun, his thoughts and immediate experience not at all in his present space.

----------

Rev put his fork down on the plate and sat back in his chair at the tiny kitchen table.

"Mama, I think that was the best blackberry pie of yours that I've ever had."

Tess shook her head and smirked.

"You say that every Sunday about every pie I make. You tryin' to butter me up for something?"

Rev stood and picked up his plate, then his mother's, then Del Rossi's and carried them to the sink.

"As a matter of fact...."

The old woman stopped him, putting her hands on her hips.

"Uh uh, now don't you start this again. I'm staying right here and there ain't a thing you gonna do about it."

"I've got plenty of room, Mama."

"That don't matter, you don't need your old Mama ghosting about your house when you're trying to find yourself a good lady to settle down with."

With a sigh, Rev shook his head and placed the leather bag on the chair he'd been sitting on. 

"We'll talk about this later, Mama.  We've got to get going.  Your medicines are in the bag, and a little bit of cash to keep these old lights on. Just, promise me you'll think about it."

The old woman stood and hooked her arm around her son's side.

"I an't promising nothing, but you keep coming to see me on Sundays and we'll keep pretending to talk about it.  Mr. Del Rossi, it was nice to meet you.  You come on back any time you want to, with or without this worry wart old son of mine."

----------

Reverend Wilson traced his finger along the scratch in the perfect finish of the Alpha.  As he shut the door behind him, he looked at Del Rossi.

"I'll pay for that. I really should have thought to tell you to bring the truck. These dumb kids don't know their asses from their elbows.  Half of them don't have a decent male role model in their lives and the other half don't even know who their Mamas are. It's a shame.

Del Rossi gave the engine some gas and they pulled away from the curb. Rev looked out over the neighborhood as they passed.

"This area wasn't any better when I was growing up here. But I got out, so I don't see why some of these kids couldn't, you know?"

They came to a four-way stop. After a short pause, Del Rossi moved forward through the intersection, then an old, beat up blue pickup truck fell in behind them, pacing them about a car length away. Both Del Rossi and Rev noticed it.  The cab had three people inside. Del Rossi seemed to be eyeing them all pretty closely from the rear-view mirror.  Rev glanced back over his shoulder.

"You don't think those boys were dumb enough to..."

He was cut off by the sharp echoing sound of a gunshot.  The Alpha fishtailed as a tire shredded.

"Funculo!..."

Del Rossi did well to keep the car from spinning completely out of control. Instead of tugging on the wheel and hitting the skids in response to the blown out tire, he simply kept the speed up and the wheel as straight as possible, slowly maneuvering the car into the right lane after a civilian car sped on by in response to the unfolding action.

His eyes were kept on the blue truck through the rear vision mirror as they neared the next cross road intersection which was showing a red light for them. The pickup truck was still following, a few car lengths between them, and had one guy moving around more so than the others, the one who likely shot the tire as he was now poking himself out the window with a rifle and trying to aim it at them.

"Get ready." Del Rossi said in a calm yet firm tone.

As they neared two cars already stopped at the lights, Louis directed theirs towards the oncoming lane and just as a Ford Model A turned into it. He gripped the steering wheel tight and slowly pressed his foot down harder onto the gas, rubber still flicking off from the busted tire and sparks starting to splash out at intervals as the rim met the road.

The Ford swerved and skidded around them with a heavy handed and long honk of the horn, the Alpha mounting the sidewalk with quickening speed and crashing into and through a shop front window.

Reverend Wilson ducked his head as he realized the car was careening toward an all-glass storefront. The sound of glass shattering around them was deafening, but there wasn't time to worry about that.  As soon as the Alpha halted, half in and half out of the abandoned store, both Rev and Del Rossi heard tires screeching to a stop behind them. Almost in perfect synchronization, both men jumped behind the front of Del Rossi's car and took cover, drawing various weapons and aiming for the blue truck.

Rev glanced over at Del Rossi and gave him a dry grin.

"At least lunch was good, huh?"

Three men, much older and larger than the two punks from before, piled out of the car. Rev peered at them for a moment then let out a string of curses that would make a sailor uncomfortable.

"Those aren't neighborhood guys, Louis!"

He'd have to explain later.  The rifle glinted in the afternoon sunlight, and Rev took his first shot right toward the man wielding it.

"At least lunch was good, huh?"

Usually you'd find average men crumble under this kind of pressure. Something so uncommon and so unruly seemed to be the thread that sparked fear in commoners, civilians. When you've been in some shit though, these situations were in a way relished. You had to find some way to deal with so much violence and the potential to meet one's maker at a moments notice.

For Del Rossi, he didn't have the same aggressive streak as his boss, Joe Adonis, yet when needed he enjoyed the opportunity to get his hands dirty. Other than gripping a steering wheel, he enjoyed taking a gun in hand and popping cans and various objects in a deserted patch of the Philadelphia Municipal Airport.

Away from everyone and everything he'd enjoy moments of clarity as he took to the makeshift shooting range. It was in many ways since leaving the thieving of cars behind, his new form of escape. Before, he'd put himself completely into every job he had. When he wasn't drinking and popping barbiturates like candy, driving freed his soul.

Now, it was the process of lining up the perfect shot that got him there. He needed it. Otherwise he might as well hand Joe his gun and ask him to punch his ticket to where Ray likely was. Insanity in this life wasn't an issue. It was a cold and lonely experience that got most. It either had them make stupid decisions that put others at risk, or just had them swimming in circles as they drowned themselves in sinful release, trying to fill that void with something, anything.

At least with guns, Del Rossi had found a new way to meditate, as it were. And with pistol up against his chest and his back against the sightly dented Alpha Romeo grill, he waited for Rev to pop off some rounds before lurching his body around and forcing his arm forwards, then used his left hand against the front of the car to steady his aim.

Looking down his arm, things kind of slowed for him. It reminded him of when he truly let a beauty loose. When he took her to heights other drivers couldn't or wouldn't. Some had to be driven hard and fast. Others, slow and with care. But the best ones, they always screamed best when taken with force and opened up. He missed those days. But this was the next best thing and his training came in handy for moments like these.

Del Rossi noticed one of the gangsters was on the ground, motionless, a rifle in close proximity. It looked to be a M1 Garand at first glance. The other two were using their own pickup truck as more or less cover, and as one popped up to send a message their way Louis raised his arm in his direction and looked down it, just like he'd practiced time and time again. With a squeeze, one bullet left the chamber, then another, one hitting the windscreen and the other inching even closer to where the now ducking attacker had been standing, hitting the side mirror.

About 30 feet away, Rev spotted a stack of empty crates stacked closer to the un-shattered part of the storefront. Seeing an opportunity for a better vantage point, he waited for the right time to move. Del Rossi seemed to get the idea of what he was doing and took aim.  While he took his shots, Rev used the chance to crawl across the poured cement floor and take cover behind the crates.  They weren't the strongest crates, but they'd slow down a bullet if nothing else. With his back straight up against the crates, he glanced down at the Browning in his hand. This time, as every time he pulled the gun, he heard a voice in the back of his head.

"Don't ever pull it unless you plan to use it; and if you plan to use it, you better not miss."

The words of his father were simple.  Some might say too simple; but it rang true with the Reverend, and had been his motto in training. Reverend Wilson was a calculating type of man, so when his hand moved to grip the handle of the Browning, the shots would be deadly.  There were six bullets left in the magazine. He waited and breathed slowly, keeping his hands steady as he counted the seconds.  Finally, he heard the distinct click of a weapon being cocked. "One, two, three...."

The Reverend whirled around from behind the crates and cracked off a shot.  One shattered the remainder of the windshield and plugged a man in the shoulder.  He moved the weapon just a hair to the right and fired again; this time nailing the same guy in the forehead. Blood spattered across the back window and caused the last attacker to jump out of his seat and tumble out of the the truck.  Rev called across to Del Rossi.

"Louis! He's gonna run!"

"Succhiacazzi!" Del Rossi yelled out before vaulting over the side of the bonnet and giving chase.

Louis preferred to be static when he was moving, in a car seat as the mechanical horse trotted along. He wasn't the fittest guy but if they were to make anything out of this situation, more than just staying alive, they'd have to take this guy down and not bury a bullet in him. The Alpha Romeo was already written off in his mind, so that shouldn't be a problem. Technically.

With glass crunching underfoot, Louis exited the photography store. Lucky for the owners they were away on holiday, indefinitely, and the place was being readied to sell on to someone else in the market. It was a nice little corner shop till the two Midas employed duo messed up the front of it.

With the last alive pacing down the street, Del Rossi followed in hot pursuit. The guy he was chasing glanced back, nearly faltering on the sidewalk before correcting himself and taking off again, this time onto the road. Louis still had his gun in hand as he hopped the curb and continued after him.

The street was still busy. Some cars had already parked up trying to get a gander of the situation, in car parks that were in front of other businesses in this little neck of the neighborhood that had a handful either side of the road, and a more or less mirror effect over the intersection too.

All bystanders were quickly realizing the danger involved though and were making themselves scarce or hiding well out of view as the foot race continued. It wasn't uncommon for a stray bullet to take an innocent life. The newspapers were littered with such stories.

The passing traffic wasn't moving quick enough to cause any danger, the two now out in the middle of the street. Maybe out of fear, Louis would never know, but the man he was pursuing suddenly stopped and turned towards him, raising his handgun as he did. He really wanted to take him alive but that was now becoming a very unlikely ending.

As Del Rossi dropped to one knee to get a better aim and hopefully also jar the effort of the man before him, he too raised his gun, aiming it at his torso, the largest target area on the body. As long as he squeezed and kept his aim the guy would be plugged with daylight and sent to an early exit, like all eventually were who tried their luck at the life of a gangster.

With his gun steady, Louis went to squeeze the trigger but was too late, another gunshot getting in before his trigger finger could do its job.

The man dropped his gun as a look of shock crossed his face. He dropped to his knees, still staring past Del Rossi.

Reverend Wilson put his Browning back in the shoulder holster under his jacket and walked up the sidewalk cooly until he reached the body that had now fallen face-first onto the pavement.  He squatted down and sighed.  He hated to see anyone go this way, but sometimes it was just the way the world worked.  He knew they didn't have long before the police showed up, but they had longer than they might on Race Street.  Cops knew this area well enough to know that- for the most part- street matters handled themselves. 

When the Reverend turned the body over, his hand immediately recoiled. Wordlessly, he stared at the face of the man whose blood he'd just spilled all over the South Philly streets. 

"God dammit." He muttered.  His hand clenched into a fist and he stood, taking a few strides away from the body.  "God dammit."

Del Rossi could only watch on as the body fell to the ground, his arm slowly dropping into a casual grip as he leaned the gun on his propped up knee. He let out of relived sigh before pushing himself up to stand tall again. Dusting himself off he noticed the Rev walking towards the body.

By all accounts the mayhem was over. To those that witnessed it unfold and end with the body Louis was also walking towards, it was over. But something seemed amiss as Wilson responded to having seen who it was he shot, likely saving Del Rossi's life in the process.

"What?" Louis said as he tucked away his handgun into the small of his back, the feint sound of sirens beginning to also play their tune off in the distance.

Bystanders were coming out from where they were hiding as Del Rossi and Reverend Wilson could be seen clearly next to the downed and blood pooling body.

Rev stopped and put his hands on his hips, looking down for a moment, then looking at Del Rossi.

"That was my nephew, Darnell. I thought he was in Detroit."

He hung his head one more time, having a hard time believing what had just transpired. The sound of the sirens was coming closer, and he knew they had to go. Finally he looked up, shaking his head.

"We better go."

The two men made their way down an alley, moving in the opposite direction of the sirens. Two blocks over, they hailed a cab to take them to the airport. As the car wound through the streets, Rev sat back against the seat with his head resting on his fist looking out the window.  What a waste.  A waste of a day, a waste of a car, a waste of a good life.  Darnell had always had potential.  How the fuck had he gotten mixed up with Hannigan?  Worse, how was he going to tell Mama Tess?  He rubbed his temples and sighed, then called up to the driver.

"Scratch the airport.  Hot Shots Billiards, on the Pier."

Glancing at Del Rossi, he shrugged.

"I need a drink."