Lobo was standing in what appears to be large study room, heavy odor of expensive cigars and liquor was hanging in the air almost like a living being. Furniture was also way too extravagant showing clearly two things. First was that owner had obviously obscene amount of money and second that he had no sense of style whatsoever. If people actually got executed for bad taste this one would be fertilizing flowers on some cemetery long time ago. Well that was oversight that will be rectified before morning.

In his crew Lobo was mostly in charge in obtaining, driving and disposing of getaway cars. It was also well known fact that he shared his late cousins trait of being unable to shoot a gun to save his life (trait that regarding his cousin should be taken quite literary) so when getting in possible firefight he was usually given sawed off shotgun or Tommy Gun. Idea being that he should just point weapon in general direction of the enemy and pull the trigger. Also what he lacked in gun department he makes up in wicked skill with blades, six custom made throwing knifes were concealed in special holsters in his suits and also his pride and joy antique silver handled dagger was attached to his right forearm. He never parted with it since he obtained it in his 16-th year, same day he killed his first man.

Well that ability was crucial in part of his job that was known only to the boss and his left and right hand and as far as Lobo was concerned he would prefer to stay that way. See sometimes people should just disappeared, not shot in public or secrecy, not made example off but just vanish in thin air like they never existed. Faceless names that would sooner or later cease to exist even as a distant memory. Man that owned this grotesque monument of wealth was one of those people.

He took large plastic sheet and covered expensive carpet almost all the way to the door. Target will notice it off course but before his brain process that information he will be on one way trip to hell. He finished not a moment too soon, heavy footsteps made stairs to this flour squeal like some sort of small animal caught in trap. Footsteps of a man certain that he is in safe place, that nothing can touch him in his little piece of heaven. In other words footsteps of a stupid man, in our line of work there is no such thing as safe haven, only time you can relax and put your guard down is when they finally haul your ass to morgue table. Lobo did not fooled himself, somewhere out in the night is a bullet with his name on it. Death of natural causes was not even distant possibility; all he could do is dance in twilight trying to avoid it as long as possible.

In few steps he positioned himself behind the door; dagger already in his hand, reassuring coldness of the handle soothed his nerves. He wandered will he end this in time so he catch last show in Katies place in St.Louis. Key got inserted in keyhole and doors opened. Just as he predicted man took few steps in and stopped short at the sight of plastic sheet, just one lightning fast step forward, left hand over mans mouth and right hand in one smooth move with dagger over his throat. It was all over in less then 3 seconds, perfect just as he liked it…And then it happened, light gasp for air behind his back, his body acted on reflex, too well trained if there is such thing. In one movement he turned and used inertia to throw dagger at direction of sound, left hand already grasping two of throwing knifes. Needlessly since he never missed a target from this distance, target this time being a blonde in her mid twenties dressed in beautiful evening gown. Her bright blue eyes locked with his, mixture of surprise and fear written all over her faces, she was dead before she fell, dagger perfectly logged in her heart. Lobo bit his lower lip hearing his own voice sneering at him from depth of his mind.

Who’s stupid now? Overconfident idiot who haven’t bothered to check his targets plans for the evening. Amateur hour isn’t it?

He pushed voice in background noise; deed has been done, no point in thinking what he should have done, just make sure he doesn’t do it again. He got to her body and carefully picked it up, quick glance on the floor haven’t detected any blood. Some luck at least. He positioned both bodies on plastic, now easy part was done and reason why seasoned veterans in crew gladly skipped these kind of jobs is about to commence. Little black bag was hidden behind the desk containing butcher smock, hacksaw and few cleavers. Lobo put on smock and took a hacksaw, after reducing bodies to manageable pieces there was pig farm an hour drive from the city and per his instructions pigs haven’t been fed for 48 hours, before noon tomorrow bodies will be reduced to nothing more than pigs poop. He approached the man, crouches near him and smiled exposing his slightly larger canines then normal…Wolfboy they called him in old country.

So big guy heads or tails? Pauses slightly like he’s waiting for the answer.

Heads they are then. Puts hacksaw to deadmans neck and start to work while whistling some Christmas tune.         

SINGERROURKE applauds and shakes the young mans hand.

Lobo, Let me first say how impressed i am with you. You came out to these streets and told us a brilliant story one i wish everyone would take the time to read. Sir i feel honored to have read this.

SINGERROURKE walks off. But before he does he turns and smiles.

I love the end by the way about the christmas tune. I think im going to steal something like that from you.

SINGERROURKE walks off humming jingle bells.

As Katie breached the crowed and stepped towards Lobo to tell him of her pleasantries of hearing his story she ran smack into SINGERROURKE.

Excuse me sir.

She dusted his shoulder off and side stepped around him.

Lobo, I loved your story.

Katie grinned at her friend.

I hope we get to hear more about your jobs in the life of crime. I know I for sure wouldn't mind hearing more.

She smiled warmly.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go catch up with a man about a bat.

Katie leaves Lobo to his other fans and runs after SINGERROURKE.

Katana walks up clapping.

Lobo I am extremely happy to have heard your story. I hope that more will come from you.

She extends her hand and shakes his.

Thank you!

Katana slips back off in to the crowd whistling the christmas tune that Lobo ended his story with.