Things had gone smoothly back home which was a bit of a pleasant surprise but I wasn’t going to stick around any longer than I needed too. I jumped on the first plane I could find back in the states, landing in New York a few hours later. I really just wanted to get back home to Paradise but there were still a few things that I needed to deal with first.

I grabbed the first one way ticket to Corktown that I could get my hands on and boarded the train with a few minutes to spare before it pulled out of the station. By now I was simply just exhausted, hoping I could use the time on the locomotive to maybe grab a few hours of shut eye. 

I found an empty cabin easily enough, immediately dropping my bag to the floor and pushing it underneath the seat with my right foot. Sitting with my back to the window, I slipped out of my jacket and laid it across my chest my eyes already feeling heavy as I did. They began to close slowly before I even felt the train’s cars begin to rumble down the tracks.

I awoke to the squeaking brakes as the locomotive pulled into the station. I dozed off as soon as I sat down and must have slept through the entirety of the trip. I couldn’t say I was really surprised though, I hadn’t gotten the chance to rest much since I first flew back across the pond. Pushing myself up on my elbows, I pulled the watch from my pocket, letting my eyes adjust to the dim light for a moment. I was right on time, which was a good thing. I really didn’t want to play catch up at the moment. 

I let out a long yawn as I stretched my hands high above my head, my knuckles popping and cracking as I did. It wasn’t the most comfortable sleep I had had recently but at least it was some sleep at this point. I would have rather been anywhere but here right now but it was one of those necessary evil type of deals. There was something rather important that I was going to have to take care of whether I wanted to or not. Might as well just get on with it at this point. 

I checked the slide of my pistol before tucking it back away in the holster and slipping my arms back into my jacket. I was beginning to get the sinking suspicion that I was going to need it sooner rather than later.

Looking around the station and noticing exactly one person occupying the entire place, VoxNeruda decided this would be as good a place as any to rest his weary bones.  He wanders over to a nearby water fountain, cupping his hands underneath the faucet and splashing the cold water underneath his ripe armpits.  The water was uncomfortably cold, but VoxNeruda was in need of a bath.  After defecating in the basin of the water fountain, VoxNeruda attempts to run water overtop of the feces to force it down the drain but to no avail, despite the runniness of its texture.

He notices an unoccupied bench sitting alongside the tracks.  He would of course not be able to afford a ticket to ride on the train, but the bench would provide ample accommodations and the station would shield him from the harsh elements outside.  Hopefully someone would be by soon to solicit money from.  Until then, he would ret until his upset stomach started growling at him, in which case back to the water fountain he would scurry.

Latom had been summoned by Farage an early morning. She had been very grumpy as she was awoken by the knock on the door. Cursing all the way to open it. But when the boss asks for your presence you do as you're told with a smile on the face. Making her way over to the headquarters the cold morning breeze did its best to wake her up. Unsuccessfully.

It had been a short meeting. She'd been told to make her way to Chicago by train to take out some trash. The ticket had been handed to her alongside an envelope with names and places. As soon as she knew what she was about to do she could feel the tiredness start to fade and how the excitement started to grow. Tasks like these was something to look forward to. Something fun.

She was walking through the station making her way to the platform. The station was completely empty. She hadn't seen a single person until she rounded a corner and saw a worn lump of flesh laying on a bench by the tracks. She had been living on the streets herself before getting the opportunity to join the life of crime so she couldn't help but feel sorry for the man. As she was making her way to the train she picked up a few coins from her coat pocket and threw them towards the man. Without stopping she made her way inside the train without as much as a glance backwards and found her spot. Determined to try and get some sleep before the rest of the days hard work.

There was always another venture to step into, another task to handle. This particular one was taking me back to Detroit. It had been some time since I had been back. I was generally busy back in New York with the firm and then a certain side trip here and that usually took up the rest of my time. There was a job to be done here though, and it suited me well. I was tasked with making the drop, nothing more, nothing less. Drop the money and go. The product would be picked up and no one would be any the wiser. It should have been relatively easy but things like this had a way of going sideways in a flash. 

I fished my ticket out of my pocket and held it forward as I shuffled off of the platform onto the train. I found an empty seat easily enough, placing my bag on the ground at my feet as I sat down. It wasn’t a terribly long trip from Manhattan but it would give me plenty of time to come up with a plan and to figure out a way out if things went wrong. It was always better to be prepared when it came to things like this.

Taiga nervously shifted her weight from one foot to another, chewing her lip as she once again scanned the crowded train station for the man she was supposed to meet up with. For all intents and purposes, it was just supposed to be another normal drug drop, which she'd done countless times in her life, but something about this one just made her skin crawl. It may be the fact that the buyer asked to meet in one of the most crowded places in Detroit, or perhaps the peculiarity that she had no idea who this guy was and what he looked like. All she knew was he was going to be in a navy blue coat and carrying a black satchel.

It was nearly 10 minutes past their agreed meeting time and Taiga was getting more nervous by the minute. Just as she decided to split, a beautiful woman tapped her on the shoulder. "Miss Taiga?" The navy-blue clad woman asked. Taiga's eyes traveled down to her bag and saw a black satchel -- the newest release by Schiaparelli. Impressed, Taiga shook her hand and covertly slid her a packet of coke. In return, the buyer pulled out a little brown envelope from her coat pocket and smiled. The mysterious woman was just about to walk away when Taiga called after her.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Ma'am. And that's a beautiful bag. No wonder you wanted to meet in a public place -- to show it off and rightfully so!"

I needed a fresh start after the way things ended in New York. The city felt different now, darker, colder. I suppose that’s how it always felt though. Maybe it was my idealistic outlook that made things seem like they were in different shades of grey. That wasn’t the case however, it was always black and white.

It took some traveling and wandering around for a while before I decided to settle in Detroit. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking for but maybe if I settled in one place for a while, I might be able to find it. Hopping from bar to bar wasn’t really getting me anywhere.

The only good thing about not having a set residence was that I didn’t have much to lug around. A simple duffel bag filled with all of my possessions that I easily tossed over my shoulder. It made going from place to place that much easier. It was like that when I bought the ticket in Manhattan and boarded the train. 

I made my way past a few occupied seats before settling towards the back, placing my bag down in the empty seat beside me as I stretched out my legs. It was nice finally having a destination in mind. Something that I didn’t think I would find with the way things had been going on in these shores lately.

Letting out a deep sigh, I unscrewed the cap to my mostly empty flask before deciding against it and slipping it back away into my pocket. I had done enough drinking to last two lifetimes lately, I really didn’t need to compound that anymore now.

As the train pulled away from the station, I let my eyes fall to the passing buildings outside of the window as I made my way towards my fresh start.

When I left with the information I paid for from Officer Williams, I immediately headed for the Depot in Vegas. It was going to be a long ride into Detroit but it gave me time to think as the tracks click clacked along. I really had no idea what I was going to find there but it gave me the chance to slow down and figure out a plan.

Or at least pieces of a plan.

It was better than nothing.

I stayed away from the flask in my pocket for the most part, a sip or two here and there but it was nearly half full as the train pulled into the station. It was nice traveling light, didn’t have a bag to carry as I quickly stepped from the train onto the platform. I looked around for a moment before moving towards to nearest window that faced out into the street. 

Ah, fuck. The lights across the street at the bar were all off. I let out a sigh as I reached into my pocket, pulling out my watch. It was still relatively early, with any luck they would be opening in an hour or two. 

As much as I wanted to run across the street and kick the door in, I knew going in blind would essentially be a death sentence. All that time on the train gave me plenty of time to think. I was going to have to be smart about this. Brute force wasn’t warranted here. It needed to be handled delicately, with finesse more than a heavy hand.

John hold that door please!

But he was too late.  The train was already departing the station.  Assistant Coach FrizzleFry sighs.

Assistant Coach FrizzleFry takes a look around the train station, soaking in its storied history.  Some people were slightly surprised how well the station was doing, due to how poorly it hand been doing in the early 20’s after that useless C Henry Ford began buying up land adjacent to Michigan Central Station.  In the end, the Depression scoffed at Ford's ambitions and the plans were squashed in lieu of more basketball-themed enterprises, as everyone knows of course. 

Assistant Coach FrizzleFry on the other hand was not surprised at all, as he was born with much keener senses then other far less athletic mobsters that would be surprised by such obvious things.

The station was in Corktown Detroit, which was not Assistant Coach FrizzleFry's home court.  Still, the train could connect him back to his gymnasium on 12th Street within minutes.  He takes notices of the foot traffic from people coming and going, either heading to work or fleeing mandatory mugs, all paying cash for a train ticket to get around town.  It was like a cash cow.  Assistant Coach FrizzleFry chuckles at the thought that it was surprise to anyone who that this place was a gold mine.

And what was his own turf's claim to fame?  A disgusting public toilet.  Not a dime to be squeezed out of that establishment, he laments to himself.  He walks to the ticket booth to look at the schedule, hoping to catch a train into Chicago to visit the Stadium there. His stomach was growling and he had heard the place had amazing hot dogs. 

He hears the train a'coming....

Assistant Coach FrizzleFry awaits the next train back to his home on 12th Street.  The train station remains eerily desolate, most likely due to extremely poor management from the train station's previous management.  Assistant Coach FrizzleFry was suddenly flooded with childhood memories of HeadCoach pulling him around in his red wagon playing train with him.  "Choo choo!" FrizzleFry would exclaim gleefully as HeadCoach pulled him around, usually a few feet before losing his breath and taking a break.  He always looked up to HeadCoach as a mentor and father-figure, an obese figure at that.  He even bought FrizzleFry a train conductor's hat for his 7th birthday, prior to then devouring his entire birthday cake himself. 

Those were simpler times, when basketball was all they knew, before the Fareham War, before HeadCoach became involved in organized basketball crime.  Everybody hates their basketball-themed mug city, it seems.  There are a few exceptions of course, HuckleberryFinn being the most outspoken regarding his enjoyment of the sport, mostly enjoying HeadCoach's jovialness and good humor and acknowledging such but he felt they were mostly despised.

He smiled to himself rethinking back to his childhood.  He had secretly always wanted to be a train conductor, but his fate was to be an Assistant Coach in the Mafia.  Perhaps the Michigan Central Station could serve as a way to live out his childhood dreams.  The train pulls up finally.  FrizzleFry boards the 12th Street train back home to rummage through hiss old chest to find his train conductor hat.

No matter what I ever tried, I just couldn't get used to flying. I could never quite place it but something about it always made my stomach queasy. I much preferred having my feet on the ground. At least on the train I had a lot more room to myself, springing for one of the quiet private cabins. It didn't hurt that infkubd the click-clack of the tracks rather relaxing.

And right about now, relaxing was a good thing. I had a meeting set up at the Police Headquarters and it didn’t matter what city I was in, that always made me more than a little uneasy. It didn’t seem to matter who I had vouching for me at any given moment, either. I just couldn’t seem to shake it.

I was perfectly fine with sitting back in my seat with my feet up, enjoying a smoke while America flew by the train’s windows.

I was hoping that I was so exhausted that I would have crashed out on the ride, which usually was the case but, I was far too high strung for all that. It was an hours long trip of restless shifting in my seat and ordering cock tails.

It did feel good to be just about anywhere other than LA at the moment. Might as well try my hand in Detroit for a while. If I was smart, I’d keep my head down and stick to the shadows.

That might have been wishful thinking, things didn’t always work out like that around here.

I grabbed my bag by the straps after I tucked the empty flask back into my back pocket, making a mental note to myself that I was going to have to find somewhere to refill it.

Letting out a deep breath, I stepped off the train. It started to feel like I could breath a little easier now.

I didn’t stay in Detroit for all that long but, with the way that everything had been going lately, I doubted that I’d be any place for very long. Definitely nothing longer than a day or two.

There was something relaxing about the train pulling into the station. It made everything seem like simpler times.

I was one of the first passengers to board the train so finding an empty seat wasn’t a problem. I found one toward the back next to the window. It was always nice being able to watch the countryside roll by when I couldn’t sleep.

Chandler got on the train at the station.  He had a plan.  More an idea than a plan.  Unfinished business.  Or, maybe, businesses that he had to finish.

The Beretta felt good in this pocket.  A solid dependable weapon.  Passed down through the ages.  Notches all over the handle and the barrel testified to its efficacy.  

He waited in vain for the Herald of the Underworld to arrive, but it didn't.  So he read his book.  An old book.  A good for the ages.

Quadir was at the Michigan Central Station with Vic and five other men they had train tickets for to Baltimore.  Vic handed the guys their tickets as Quadir went over what they were going from the train station.  They were not to sit together, eat or meet they needed to catch taxi cabs to the addresses they each was given.  They were to have room service and enjoy the rooms.  They would recieve a phone call given an address and time to be where they needed to be.  Quadir made sure that they each had a clean pistol and ammo to do the job required if needed.  

Carter reached the Michigan Central Station. He could see Joey near the ticket counter area, however he didn't greet or meet him. He just shook his head and Joey also the same and Carter went inside to get 2 train tickets towards Baltimore...

A few moments later the train arrived and he was supposed to meet EdwinDelemos on the train. He boarded the train and went to the carriage where he thought he'd be. 

Ediwn was reading a newspaper with his backfaced towards Carter...Carter had a moment and thought whether he should engage in any talk with him or finish the job quiet in the night mode...There was no one else on the carriage but an old lady and man sitting at the end of the carriage. 

Carter walked slowly and stood behind Edwin and quietly put him to sleep. There was no noise, or any shout for help...It was as if he vanished into the night shadows...Carter dragged his body behind and threw it off the train as there was a bridge they were going by....

He lit up a cigarette and stood near the door as the train kept going towards his destination. 

After leaving Miranda- at Harbor Side Motel in LA, I headed straight for Union Station and picked up my ticket to Detroit. Work to be done and all that fun jazz.

Thankfully it was easy enough of a ride, with clear night skies the entire way. It certainly didn’t hurt things that the bar car was fully stocked when the ride began. That always made trips like these a bit easier.

When the train pulled to a stop, I stepped off with the rest of the crowd. Much to do and much less time to do it in, after all.

For some reason, I needed to get out of NY. There was just something about it at the moment that felt…stuffy, even in a city that big. I didn’t have a destination in mind so I grabbed the first ticket I could which just so happened to be Detroit. I didn’t know exactly what it was but something was drawing me there.

The ride in was nice and quiet, something I relished in at the moment. Peace and quiet was a rare find around these parts at times. It was best to enjoy them when I could.

I lit up a smoke as the train’s brakes squealed to a stop. Time to find something to do.

Things had been slow of late. It seemed like that in most parts of these shores, though.

When I got the call about some work out Detroit’s way, I jumped at the opportunity. I was up for anything to break up the monotony of the moment.

It wasn’t supposed to be anything difficult but things like that had a way of getting out of hand sometimes. Especially if I wasn’t focused. That almost always ends poorly.

I slung my bag over my shoulder as I stood up as the train car pulled up to the station. Giving my watch a glance, I slipped into the crowd as they moved toward the exits.