We were still trying to understand the depth and the implications of Joe's decision. A lot was still waiting to be defined, mainly territory and the control of the coke business that had tons of kilos waiting to be moved away from LA. I am sure you know what it means to have that kinda stuff stationed to one's bank account, and how that is enough to ruin someone's mood for weeks.

If there's one thing I learned in my time here, is either you move fast or you're ran over without knowing how and why. You're out of the game just like that. If you blink you risk yourself to get shot in the forehead just because the waste of time made you dispensable.

Charlie had decided to lean on the casino with his people and that made it clear for me which would be my next step. I knew the ins and outs. Right now there was virtually no competition. It was time to move in. I didn't came this far to look back anyway.

Except for one thing. My origins in this city. That's where Joe's decision forced me to go. Back to the days I came to Philly in  my early twenties and stumbled on a guy named Eddie Stobart. Barely knowing how, I went from a driver of a well-dressed guy to a contract killer working for Joe who paid me big bucks in exchange of forcing people to retire sooner than they intended to for the simple fact they were an inconvenient body to the organization.

From there on me and the guys  I used to work with accumulated money and reputation until one of our jobs ended up exposed on the front page of a local newspaper with a subsequent article talking about a group of men who had been killing people under the orders of high ranks of the underworld. That's when I was forced to lay low and change business in order to let the dust settle.

That was when the name stuck to us. Black Label Gang. All due to the fact that the night before we had a job that went wrong and instead of one guy we ended up whacking five of the most prominent businessmen in the east coast. He was, let's put it that way, refusing to accept the new terms of his arrangement with my organization. Everyone else was just on the wrong place at the wrong time. The name got stuck to us because that day they were all wearing a black label on their left arm in memory of one of their pals. The irony of life..

And here I was, with a nod from Jack that gave me the go to move forward with this thing.

Today I was meant to invest some of my time around a few neighborhoods where I intended to pass a message. A certain territory had been assigned to me, and I was in the mood to deliver the message personally, eyes meeting eyes, to ensure that all the syllables of my words were well interpreted. I always thought that looking someone in the eyes had a bigger impact than a thousand words.

One of the guys I needed to have a word with was Jimmy. Jimmy Coonan, who ran a clique made of Irish guys. He was probably my biggest obstacle towards my implementation in the neighborhood. I won't say he had a huge operation, but it was large enough to have me make sure I had increased precautions when entering his turf.

When I turn the corner I spot the guy standing by the entrance of one building alongside one of his associates. The more I close the distance between me and him, the more his smile gets wider and more defying. On my side I make sure nothing but seriousness was expressed on my face.

“Good morning fellas. News run fast in this thing of ours, so I'll assume you know who I am and what I am doing here. I don't like to waste time and I won't make you waste yours, so I just want to know whether we're all comfortable with our understanding in this thing?”

Except they weren't. The moment I shut my mouth I had both of them jumping at me. For a moment that looked like forever, I took a beating until I found a window to inflict a punch on the biggest guy´s nose, throwing him on the floor and leaving me alone with Hymie.

“Wrong answer pal”

“Fuck you Alo” And then he pointed a knife my way. The only appropriate answer to that I found out was pointing my gun in return.

“That's a very impolite way to discuss business Mr. Weiss. I'll give you one chance to change your mind before I use my friend here”

The son of a bitch threw the knife my way, missing my face by inches and then started running away. If there were two things I disliked about this business, was the fact I always needed a nod to whack people and having to chase them. And now this fucker was making me run after him.

After a brief hesitation the mouse, caught in the beams of the headlights, quickly escaped to the darkness of the gutter. The glare of the cobblestones, slowly passing underneath the car appeared like gentle waves rolling onto a smooth beach while being lit by the moon. Tall buildings stood guard over the desolate area, observing Kid as he navigated around the area. Their occupants lived their lives behind closed curtains, shielded from the cold outside. That same cold kept Kid inside, after having brought the car to a stop on the side of the streets and turning off the lights.

He kept his hands on the steering wheel, in turn tapping down on it with his thumbs. Like the hands on a clock, proving time didn’t stand still on this abandoned street. At the same moment it created a soft rhythm to drift away in thoughts. Kid looked in the rear-view mirror and saw nothing. Then Joe. Back to nothing and now Joe was there again. Smiling at Kid. He always used to sit in that corner of this car, calm. He knew days to come would never be as days past, but he wasn’t scared of that. Forever to the horizon, regardless of what was beyond. Kid smiled at the thought of the old man now probably waking up in some rusty village in the south of Europe with a bright sun warming the streets and calling the people to life.

And gone again. Kid looked at his pocket-watch. It’s been only 20 minutes since he had dropped of Vincent. At first he had insisted to come, but knowing how his boss was capable enough, Kid didn’t mind staying in the car. Missing out on the gusting winds that blew in from the river banks was just fine as well.

The young man turning the corner in an obvious hurry was the next appearance in the mirror. It took Kid a blink or two to realise this wasn’t some anecdote from the past. The thing with reality is that you don’t have all the knowledge to make the right choices. This fella could be anyone, but he had to suffer a bit for Kid to be certain. With his hand on the door-handle, Kid kept looking for the right time.

With a shock the man’s sprint came to an halt. Kid even felt somewhat sorry as the fella crumbled to the floor, leaving behind a smear of blood on the window. Briefly thereafter a soft grunt was followed by a series of swearwords and threats that made Kid put his boot on the man’s head and push it down to the ground, controlling the growing unrest as the fella recovered. In the rear-view mirror, Vincent appeared, quickly coming to a slow pace as he realised the situation at the car was in their favour.

“Who the hell are you now?” The man asked, after Kid had pulled him up against the car. In response to the spit that followed and landed on his jacket, Kid just tightened the grip at the man’s collar, making it harder for the man to breath, limiting his actions. For a brief moment he considered engaging the man, but Kid just smiled faintly at the man, before tilting his head to see that Vincent-Alo was nearing them now. His boss would say what’s needed.