Dom, a few bodyguards in tow, stepped out of the car. He looked at the fortified HQ of County General in front of him. Nodding to the guards on duty, Dom walks in the front door and is met by DickGrayson. "Well, Dick, we have company." says Dom. 

Dom and Dick are near the top of the complicated horse betting scene in Chicago. They have multiple race stewards, jockeys, and trainers on their payrolls and under the threat of their guns. Many races go their way, against all odds. That might partly be due, not to jockeys who don't urge their horses on enough, or trainers who don't feed the horses right, or stewards who disregard photos of the finish line, but to bookies who aren't quite truthful with the odds they make. 

Whatever the reason, Dom and Dick are strangely successful at horse betting. However, Dom, or rather one of Dom's guards who lurks about town with eyes and ears open, has discovered something that could interfere with this win ratio.

"There are two new guys, Jimmy Holden and Vick Frazio, on the betting scene," Dom tells Dick. "One of my guards here heard from the kid that works in the stables at the track north of town that these suckers met with the steward last night. The kid said they came out dragging the guy and threatened to kill him if he didn't 'help the out.'

"I gather that they have our way of doing things in mind. That steward works for us, and I don't want to lose the race there next week. Our horse is the tenth likeliest to win, but 2 of the horses above ours are scheduled to be scratched just before the race. The others all have fixed jockeys, trainers who work for us, all that shit. But there's one horse who we haven't and can't take care of, and that's the horse that the boys from Detroit bet on. Our horse can beat it, unless the steward makes up his mind that that won't happen.

"We can't take that risk. Any ideas?"

The horse races had been quite lucrative for some time now for the two men. It was a comfortable earning and was easier than some of the other pies that they had their fingers in. When they did it properly, it was a whole lot safer than some of those other works as well. 

The problem this time out was someone was trying to muscle in on their territory. Dick and Dom weren’t in the mood to split their profits with anyone else, especially outsiders from Detroit none the less. If they let that happen even once, it would set the precedent that anyone could move in on their racket and once the flood gates opened they might as well toss the whole scheme out the window.

”There really only seems to be one course of action.” Dick almost didn’t want to speak the next words but he knew that it was necessary, “We need to send a message if our own. One that can’t be over looked but, it needs to be subtle. If we go too big we are going to draw the attention of all of Detroit. If we aren’t careful here, we could start a war. We need to be careful with whatever we decide.”

"Agreed," says Dom, nodding. He thinks for a moment. "Well, there are a lot of ways to, er, clear up problems. Car crashes, explosions, hitmen, poisons, all that good stuff. However, perhaps we should take less-lethal methods before pursuing a more risky course. At least, less-lethal to the suckers themselves. A few winged guards, a dead horse, something like that. However, they might hit back and not give us a chance to make a second hit.

"Perhaps we should take some circuitous methods of intimidation, or at least messing with their chances of winning.

“Non-lethal is the way to go but this is something that we need to handle ourselves. We don’t need word getting out that we can’t handle our own business and the less eyes and ears that know about it the better.”

Dick thought it over for a moment as he stretched his arms over his head, knuckles popping loudly as he did. “Do we have any more information on these jokers? Where they like to hang out or who they like to hang out with?”

"My guards tell me that they're nearly always together. They like to hang out at the Double Tap Bar, owned by Wolverine. They often sit in the corner. My guards have also found out that they live outside of town, in a small hotel. From what I can tell, they keep to themselves. They're trying not to attract attention, likely as not. I don't think either Chicago or Detroit would be ecstatic to know that they're setting up shop in another city. They've done a bit of gambling, but other than that they aren't very social.

"The hotel might be the place to take action. It's a sleepy place, what happens there doesn't concern the city. That's probably why they're living there in the first place."

“It might be wise to stay away from The Double Tap. Last thing we need is to be messing up Wolverine’s joint. He’s not exactly someone we want to make an enemy of.” 

Dom was right, they could have just as easily gone over their heads to the uppers in Chicago or Detroit but that would have been perceived as weakness on their part. Whatever it was, needed to be handled internally. The hotel might be the best course of action. If they did it right, they could remove the pieces from the game board, make it look like a robbery gone wrong. They certainly wouldn’t have to worry about them again if that was the case.

”You got the directions to this hotel?”

Just a couple hours later, a large car pulls to the side of a road outside of Chicago. "The hotel's just around the next band, Boss." says the guard driving the car. Dom nods. He picks up a case at his feet and takes out his tommy gun. As he checks it over to make sure all is in order, he turns to Dick at his side. "Let's go over the plan one more time. We need to be on the same page and can't afford to slip up."

Dick listlessly stared out the window as the car turned around the last bend. He checked the slide on his dual colts before pressing them back into his shoulder holsters. It was a more of a habit than anything else, he always kept them clean and ready for whatever may come up next.

”Looks like the place is nearly dead, that should work to our advantage.” Dick looked the small nondescript building up and down as they pulled to a stop in the darkened corner of the lot. “I’ll take the front door while you head around back. From everything that you’ve told me, I doubt they will be expecting anyone to be coming for them just yet. Ideally we do this without the guns but don’t hesitate if we need them. Our lives aren’t worth theirs.”

Dick quickly stepped from the vehicle, feeling the gravel crunch underneath his steps as he did. It may not have been the best plan but it should suffice well enough. As long as the problem was removed, it should have really mattered how they did it.

Dom stepped out of the car and looked at the hotel. "Well, at least we haven't been sniped on arrival," Dom says. "Good luck Dick." Dom stows his tommy under his overcoat and walks down the road a bit. "We can't screw this up," Dom thought. "If we don't make them understand this time, we won't get a second chance. We have to succeed the first time. I'm not gonna lose our racket to those suckers from Detroit." Dom heaves over a fence and circles around through a grove of trees. As he approaches the back door, he stops and waits to hear Dick enter from the front.

“Be careful. We don’t need to let these clowns get a drop on us.”

Dick kept his cap pulled low as he made his way up the steps to the second floor. It wasn’t too hard to pick out the room as it was the only one with a light shinning through the window in spite of the blinds being pulled shut. Pausing for a brief moment as he gathered his bearings, Dick knocked loudly three times. He could hear a few muffled voices shuffling around inside and as soon as the door knob turned, Dick kicked forward with his heel, using all of his weight to smash the door inward, sending one of the men sprawling to the floor as Dick pulled one of his colts from his shoulder holster.

”You aren’t going to want to do that.” Dick trained the barrel of the gun on the other man before he could make a lunge for the shotgun that sat near the headboard of one of the beds. “Let’s have a bit of a chat, what do you say?”

Taking a small step into the room, he shut the door with his foot as he gave the man lying on the floor a get moving kick to the shoulder.

Dom tries the knob on the backdoor, but it's locked. "No problem," Dom says to himself. With a crack Dom kicks the door, splitting it down the middle. A shove from the shoulder accomplishes the rest.

Dom heads upstairs and quickly finds the room, it being the only one with the door kicked in and loud shouts coming from within. Dom enters the room, and points his gun at a man who is clutching his shoulder. "I've got the other one covered," Dom says to Dick.

“Let me tell you two how this is going to go.” Sick stated sternly, as if this was something that he did all the time, “We know that you’ve been moving in on our territory, trying to grab a foothold in our city. You didn’t really think that we weren’t going to notice did you? The both of you can’t possibly be that dense.”

Keeping his gun trained on the man sitting on the edge of the bed, Dick spun the wooden chair that sat at the small round table around, resting his weapon on the back of it as he took a seat, “How tonight goes will be completely up to you. If we like how things go, maybe you’ll get out of here, maybe you won’t, that is still yet to be seen.”

Dick couldn’t help but smirk as he stole a glance at the man still lying on the floor, clearly too terrified to move, “You two jokers fucked up, worse so, I don’t really think you have any idea how badly. We are going to have to teach a lesson here, send a message if you will. You-“ Dick pointed just finger at the man on the bed, “Which of you is going to make it back home to be able to tell the rest of your scumbag friends never to try this again?”

Dom smirks at the terrified men before him. As Dick keeps his gun trained on the man on the bed, Dom suddenly sees the man on the floor move his arm. The man, still shaking uncontrollably, kicks the shotgun leaning against the wall, and catches it as it falls. Dom jumps forward, his foot landing on the guy's stomach. The man screams, dropping the gun. Dom gives him another kick, then tosses the shotgun out the window. "Carry on, Dick. Just a slight incident." Dom sneers.

“Well than,” Dick feigned shock, “That certainly makes things a little easier now doesn’t it?”

Tapping the handle of his gun on the back of his seat, Dick spoke out loud but not really to either man at the moment, “What to do, what to do. I’m going to let you pick this one buddy.” Dick motioned over towards the clearly terrified man that was clutching the comforter in his fingers tightly, “What’s it gonna be?”

”I-I’ll-I’ll,” the man stuttered, “I’ll make sure your message gets out. I can be the one to bring it back to Detroit.”

”I had a feeling that you would say that.” Dick pulled the trigger back lightly, sending a single round into the man’s forehead, splattering blood and brain matter all over the headboard and wall. “Probably was the wrong choice in hind sight.”

Dick reholstered his weapon with a sigh, he never liked this part of the life but he knew it was a necessary evil and sometimes it just needed to be done. Turning his attention to the man that Dom held to the floor, Dick couldn’t help but smile at the wet spot in the front of his pants, “Teach that one a lesson Dom, but make sure that he can get back home to spread the word somehow. I’m going out for a smoke.”

With that, Dick pushed off of the chair and exited the room, using his cigarette to mask his slightly trembling hand.

Dom looks at the man who is still in existence, still sneering. "Well, you're the lucky one, sucker." The man barely nods, clearly still trying to comprehend what just happened. "Up!" Dom says. The man doesn't move. "UP WITH YOU!" Dom growls, and helps the man do it with a kick to his side. The man gets onto his trembling knees. "Please don't kill me, please please please..." the man trails off as Dom's gun moves closer to his head. "Oh don't worry, I won't do something that painless," Dom smirks. With a jerk, Dom slugs the man's head. As the man falls sideways, Dom kicks him in the ribs and then, setting his gun out of reach, catches him and slams him onto the floor. "Now, my little boy," Dom whispers, "don't mess with grown-up things,, okay sweetheart?" Dom then turns the man over and spanks him. "Now, let's make sure you don't go see the copsies," Dom says with a grin. Dom pulls out a knife and slices the man's shirt down the middle, and rips it off. Then he yanks off his pants. Finally, Dom drags the bed's mattress to the window and throws it out, and the man follows it.

Dom walks out the door, tossing a poker chip in the dead's man direction with the words, "Should've stuck to casinos, sucker."