Date: Unknown

Name: Judas

To those who find these excerpts, I am Judas. Let’s start from the beginning.

I walked through the streets, alone. I was supposed to be dead. I remembered being shot in the chest, then left for dead in an alleyway. I could’ve sworn I saw God... or was it someone else? I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter. I was alive now. I woke up months later, my stomach where I was shot wrapped in bandages. Fuck... So many things have changed. I went looking for the Ligambis down in Detroit, but they were no longer around. Russo was dead. Fuck... No one knew who I was, and that was good. I changed my name to Judas, and got back into the game. I traveled to Las Vegas, and found Aegor and the Golden Company. He was a kind man. I don’t remember much from my previous life. All I know is that I died, and that was that.

You find this ripped out notebook page on the sidewalk while you were passing by. What do you make of it? There were a few side notes on the paper.

who am i?

trying to retrace my steps

heading back to bricktown

Judas looked around for anyone. Anyone from the old days. Anyone at all, to no luck.

He begins to write again.

I remember that time when I showed Russo those conflict diamonds, mined right from Cape Town. It was supposed to be tribute to him, but since he was a truly kind soul, he decided to share it.

It was a pretty ordinary day. I had gotten a call from a friend, saying the delivery had arrived. I went to pick it up, and there they were. They were small, but numerous, countless... If any of the heads of the other families had found out I brought in diamonds, they would have them and my head.

Judas smiles to himself as he remembers. The intrigued look on his boss' face as he looked at the small, but highly valuable diamonds. His surprised look when told that the whole duffel bag was tribute to him. Judas sighs. The good old days.

He places his notebook back in his coat, along with his pen. Well... now that he was here...

He begins to go around looking for an apartment to stay in, taking a swig from his canister every now and then.

"Alone as always." Judas says to himself. He didn't mind though. It was simply how it was.

His apartment was pretty simple, set up here in Bricktown. Desk against the wall, and a chair. He kept his gun in the drawer below, and his notebook and pen were on the desk. He crossed out a few locations (in Detroit and others). There were some notes on the side of the page and the whole map of Detroit (at least, some of its important locations) was on one page. He laid on his small bed, canister in hand.

Alone...

...

...

Judas doesn't remember falling asleep, but he woke up. It was night outside. Damn.

"Welp..." He gets up to stretch, then he throws on his trenchcoat and holsters his gun. "Time to get back to work."

He wipes the sweat from his brow and pockets the money.

He then proceeds to write down...

No luck here in Detroit, but I refuse to give up just yet. I still have many more places to check.

More small notes on the page, crossed out locations.

To those that find these, most likely on my cold dead body, this is the story of a dead man.

Next destination, the Windy City. As much as I’d like to go now...

Judas pocketed the book, and the pen, without even finishing the entry. He knew he still had more ground to cover. As soon as he had the chance, he would catch a flight to the Windy City, but for now... he would just enjoy Detroit. He begins to walk around, with seemingly no destination in mind.

The Ligambis can wait. Judas knew they were out there somewhere, but he had a new family now, and friends to make. Drugs to smuggle, people to kill, crimes to commit. They can wait...

It’s noon now. Perfect time to hit a few stores, Judas thought. He loads up a pistol he pinched from a cop, and slips it inside his trenchcoat. He waves and calls a taxi over to his side of the street.

Now in beautiful Las Vegas. I was supposed to go to Chicago, but... I had to make a quick stop in Vegas for Aegor. No place better than home, I guess. Need a bit of quick cash, so making a stop here in Summerlin.

Judas wrote this while the taxi drove up to Summerlin. The taxi stopped after a few minutes, and Judas got out. He eyed a single liquor store across the street from him, and he began to walk. He ties a bandana over his mouth the moment he enters and pulls his pistol on the shopkeeper. “Money on the table. Now.”

The shopkeeper jumps in fright while quickly opening the register and pulling the 50s and 100s, and throwing them onto the counter.

“Now... that wasn’t so hard.” Judas says, holstering his pistol while happily sweeping the bills into a bag. “Thank you for cooperating.” He says before leaving. As soon as he left, he ran. He hauled ass out of there. He flagged down a taxi and asked the driver to head down to another street. The details are unimportant. The only important thing is that he is out. He’s safe.

He stayed calm throughout the drive. If you were the driver, you would never have assumed your passenger just robbed a liquor store.

When the taxi left, Judas remembered how to breath. He walks into an alleyway to count the bills.

He sighs in relief and joy. “It’s good to be back.” He left the alleyway after counting the money, and began to eye another store just down the street, when he saw... someone familiar. JacksonT. Judas didn’t know the man’s name yet obviously, but he looked... familiar. He decides to follow him.

Jackson was in LV paying some people for the last job he did. A crate of weapons delivery, he rode his bike to Summerlin to pay the driver of the truck. The driver wasn't a part of Jax organization, just a trustworthy civilian trying to make a few bucks. Jax parked his bike outside and entered the establishment, it was a simple butcher shop, no wonder why the guy would turn to crime. Jax walked around for a bit and looked at the merchandise, after a few minutes the butcher spotted him and Jax sent him a smile and walked towards him. He placed the man's payment on the counter and nodded his head at him.

"Same time next week?" Jackson asked and the butcher nervously shook his head. Jax sent him another smile and gave him a pat on his shoulder. After that he left the store and made his way to a bar to have a few drinks before riding back to Chicago. He suspected someone was following him, so he stopped walking in the middle of a crowd of pedestrians and leaned against a wall, he started looking around to see if someone was actually following him, after a few seconds a man approaches him.

"Boss?" The man asks. Jax raises his left eyebrow and scratches his beard.

"I'm no one's boss. Why are you following me? Who are you?"

He placed his hand inside his vest where he used to keep his hunting knife. It was a crowded place, so he was sure they wouldn't kill each other but better safe than sorry

"Oh." Judas looked visibly disappointed and even... sad? "I just thought you were someone else. Do you know Kenny Russo? The former leader of the Ligambis? Funny thing is... for me, you look just like him." Judas shrugs. "Sorry. It's just that... everyone keeps saying he's dead."

"Is it true?"

"Dead? Not that I know." Jax pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his vest and slips one out. He lights it and extends one to Judas. He picks one up and Jax places the pack of cigarettes on his pocket. After a long drag he comes back to talking.

"I know Russo. He was shot three times in less than two months. Unlucky fella." Jax signals Judas to follow him, they walk together to the nearest bar where Jax was already going. He places his cigarette between his middle and index finger and takes another drag out of it.

"I think he had enough of America. He's back in Palermo, something to do with a rival family. He didn't give me many details, just asked for a loan for a private flight to Sicily. He helped me before, so I gladly gave him."

They arrive at the front of the establishment where the bar is hidden, Jax looks at Judas who looks a little confused.

"Want to grab a drink? We can talk more about it if you want but I need to ride to Chicago soon."

Oh. So he’s not dead. Judas sighs in relief. Jackson leads him to a bar.

After hearing Jackson about getting a drink, he goes, “Sure. I’m up for it. Besides, my canister needs a refill.” He holds up an empty canister.