It was just before midnight when I heard the doorknob on the front door begin to jiggle. I had tucked myself behind the couch in the living room to the right as the door slowly creaked open. Timothy moved like a season vet, keeping his gun tight to his chest and only made slow deliberate movements. I waited a beat or two longer before I heard his foot steps against the hardwood floor at the end of the hallway before I moved from my position, sneaking up behind him as quietly as I could. 

That one squeaky floorboard gave me away though, as Rancher spun around, pistol extended forward now. I hadn’t planned on getting into close quarters with him but that swiftly went right out the window. I grabbed at his wrist with my left hand, slamming my right into his midsection with a thud. I knew that it wasn’t enough to bring him down but if I could get him to drop the gun than I’d stand a fighting chance. 

He squeezed off a couple rounds right next to my head, causing a loud ringing to reverberate. I stumbled back slightly, twisting my body enough that his third shot didn’t hit me in the center of the chest but not enough that it missed me completely. The sharp stinging sensation pushing me back even farther.

I kicked forward with my heel as Rancher lunged at me, catching him squarely in the shoulder as the gun clattered loudly to the floor in the empty household. The blow threw him off balance a bit as he stumbled past me, landing awkwardly in the hall. In one motion I spun, pulling out my blade and jamming it into the back of his calf, dragging it down as I did.

I was expecting some type of cry out but instead all I heard was that sickening laugh, the one that seemed to be with me forever by this point. It send a shiver down my spine. By now I could feel the blood soaking through my shirt and I started to feel a bit lightheaded. I knew that I hadn’t done enough damage to stop him and if I didn’t press on he would surely end me.

I dropped the blood soaked knife as I pulled out my colt from the shoulder holster, using my arm to prop myself up against the wall. “You remember me Tim? We served together in Europe.”

It took a moment but I could see the recognition on his face, “Fucking Russo! What the fuck are you doing here?!”

”Making sure you don’t slaughter an entire family.”

I didn’t give him a chance to respond as I fired three quick shots into his chest then watched as the life drained from his eyes with a gurgle. It didn’t exactly go as planned but it was over with now. I grabbed my bag as gingerly as I could and slipped out slowly into the night, clutching a hand to my left side.

It had been sometime since I last stepped foot in Nelson & Murdock. I couldn’t exactly say how long it had been but living out of the bottom of numerous bottles tended to remove any concept of time what so ever. After leaning back in the old desk chair, I let out a frustrated sigh as I pulled the lower drawer open to find the bottle of whiskey that was in there empty. 

It was probably for the best anyways, I reasoned with myself. I dreaded going over the messages but it desperately needed to be done and it probably wouldn’t hurt to have a somewhat clear head while doing it. I closed my eyes for a brief moment, rubbing at the bridge of my nose with tired fingers. I should have just stayed away. Things had been going alright if not a bit quiet out in Seattle but something just seemed to be missing. It was as if a tether was pulling me back here. I certainly know that Matt wouldn’t have let things go unanswered for so long. 

I flipped through the pages of messages that were dropped off by the answering service. Nothing really seemed to stick out to me until I reached the middle of the pack. There was a man that had built himself a small enterprise preying on those he deemed inferior. That was a common occurrence around these parts but this one felt different somehow. He was never overtly doing anything, it was all working in the shadows, trying to goad and draw out anyone he could until he had an excuse, or at least what he deemed as an excuse, to have them executed. It was a cowardly thing to do but that seemed like this man’s whole motif. Make himself feel far more powerful than he actually was by whatever means he had at his disposal.

I tried to ignore it a bit and keep reading through them but it stuck in the back of my mind like a nagging annoyance. It was one of those things and one of those people that wouldn’t stop unless they were stopped. I shut the book, lifting the phone up and spinning the dial until the phone began ringing. It would have been unwise to say the least to go running in blind. If there was one thing that Matt had taught me it was that it was always better to be prepared, to have some sort of game plan. Fortunately, the man was rather flashy and tended to not hide his vileness. That would have been out of character for him. 

After gathering as much information as I could, I finally hung up the phone and began formulating a plan of some sort. He may have been out in the open but he wasn’t stupid enough to not surround himself with a small army of body guards. Even if someone wasn’t a fan of his, they would never get close enough to do anything about it. That made things a bit difficult but not impossible by any stretch of the imagination. That was always the thing with the untouchables, they always seemed to think they actually were untouchable. 

I had some practice in this department in the service. Removing dangerous pieces off the board from a distance was a specialty of mine. It had been drilled into my head since boot camp, one shot one kill. It seemed Matt had picked up that phrase as well as I pulled the case from his office closet. It was lighter than I remembered. I slipped into my jacket and grabbed the case by the handle before locking the door behind myself and heading towards the train station.

After stepping off the train at the station, it wasn’t hard at all to figure out where he was wandering about. He had that way of arrogance about him that couldn’t be contained even when he pretended to hide it. Really, all I had to do was follow the trail of money. The man was one of those that had to buy his friendships. If he wasn’t doling out as much ill begotten cash as he possibly could then he would have been completely alone in this world. The worst part about it was that he absolutely knew it. It was one of his major insecurities. He knew if he was a poor man, like the one he terrorize so badly, he wouldn’t have anything. All the cash in the world couldn’t buy love though, no matter how many bath houses he wandered in and out of.

There was still the small matter of figuring out the when’s and the where’s of everything. If I wasn’t prepared I might as well book my stay in the penitentiary right now. I decided against going straight at it, instead choosing to observe for a bit, learn as much as possible. I set up shop in one of the taller apartment buildings across from his base of operations. Finding an empty place that overlooked the large picture windows across the way. 

In hindsight, I should have just pulled the trigger and been done with it, even if it meant a lifetime in prison. That would have been better than watching him harass and molest anyone with in arms reach. He didn’t seem to like the word “no” even though it was said to him on a near constant basis. He’d be right at it the next day throwing cash at his problems and trying to buy companionship. At this point it wasn’t anything but sad and pathetic, unfortunately, that’s what his life had become even if he was an untouchable. 

I could only take a day or two of watching the pathetic little man. The more he was rejected by everyone, the more callus and nasty he got. The thought that he might be the problem never ever occurred to him. There was always some mitigating factor for why he kept getting rejected but never the actual reason, the he was just an asshole. That could never be the answer though, in his own head he was a god even if everyone else in the world couldn’t stand the sight of him or the sound of his voice. 

Instead of setting up the rifle then and there, while he was sobbing over some other guy rejecting him, I decided to wait. He deserved a very public removal. Not for his sake but for those that he forced to be around him with his cash. I got the feeling from observing that the citizens of this world wouldn’t particularly care if he dropped dead right in front of them.

Fortunately, I only had to wait for the sun to set and the party he had set up in his own honor to get underway. He was the kind of person that had to do things like this for himself because nobody else gave a damn about him. All the money in the world couldn’t buy class after all. I was guessing everyone on the guest list was also everyone on his pay roll. It wasn’t like he had any friends to attend such things.

Pulling the pieces out of the case one by one, I assembled them as if I had never taken a break from this sort of thing. It was second nature, something that I could do blindfolded. After everything was pieces together, I carefully lifted the glass and pulled the blinds down low. The party was in full swing by now which was actually kind of comical. Even at his own party, in his own place, everyone there still stayed away from him. He was so hated the people he was paying couldn’t even muster up the ability to small talk with him. I watched as he made people feel uncomfortable, pushing through the crowds and grabbing each and every guy that he passed inappropriately. Had this been any other time or any other person I wouldn’t have had to worry about pulling the trigger, someone would have put a bullet in him before I ever had a chance.

It was only a matter of time before he began feeling sad for himself and needed some attention, pulling up a chair and climbing atop it to try and gain the rooms attention. Watching as he clinked his fork against his glass trying to get everyone to pay attention to him. I drew in a slow, deep breath, lowering my heart rate significantly. As he began to open his mouth to speak, I gently squeezed the trigger, fighting against the kick back. The shot took him off of his feet, sending him crashing from the chair to the ground. I figured that I may have to bolt but much to my surprise, no one at the party so much as moved a muscle. No one tried to help him, no one panicked or screamed. I could even see a few smirks through the scope as they gathered up their coats and car keys and left as if nothing had happened at all. 

I spent some time away after the most recent incident. Avoiding the phones at Nelson & Murdock as if they were the plague. It wasn’t as if the last job was anything special. By now, things grew a bit repetitive. It was as if one job melted into the next which melted into the next and so on and so on. 

Always the curious one, I couldn’t stay away for too long, finding myself back at the law offices a few days later. It was the same as always, no actual calls got an attorney but, calls for protection and calls to help the little guy that was in fear of being squashed. It didn’t take long to see that a decent amount of the messages were being left about a certain police officer that found himself in an interesting position.

Word on the street was that he got mixed up with the wrong drug dealers girl friend. The way she told the story, they were in love, destined to be together. Unfortunately, all if that didn’t seem to sway her dealing boy friend much. He took it as a slap in the face, the ultimate sign of disrespect. 

Normally, I would have stayed away from jobs like this but the bounty was far to high to walk away from with out making an attempt. I reasoned with myself that I would take one shot and one shot only. If I so happened to miss that was it, I’d turn away as quickly as I had accepted the job.

It wasn’t all that hard to find where his patrol car was. All I had to do was call up the station and ask for Sargent Michael Niss and they readily gave me the particular beat that he was working at the time. Really, it was far easier than it rightfully should have been. 

After having his somewhat pin pointed location, I headed over to that part of town before finding a pay phone and calling up 9-1-1 to report a car jacking. I knew it was only a matter of minutes before Sargent Niss would show up.

I waited tucked in the darkened corner of an alleyway a few steps away from the car that I gave as a description. Unfortunately, I didn’t give it as much thought as I should have and completely forgot that his partner would be with him.

Letting our a sigh of frustrating that I tried to quiet, I figured even with his partner there, I had to take care of this mess with Niss. Stepping out of the shadows with gun drawn, I slipped behind his partner as carefully as possible, slipping my left arm under his, wrapping it around his next so that his throat sat in the inside of my elbow as I pressed my colt tightly against his temple with my right hand. 

”Easy. Easy Michael. This isn’t what it seems.” I kept my voice as neutral as possible. The last thing I need was spooking either of them into reaching for their service revolvers. “There is a rather expensive hit out on you. One that if I was smart I’d try to grab for myself. But, that’s not why I’m here.” I unlocked my pistol as I released it from the temple that it was pressed up against, tucking it away before letting go of the grip I had around the officers neck. “I’m only here to warn you. This will get bad. I can only stop that so much. You need to get out of town.”

Before Sargent Niss could respond, the shots rang out, echoing off of the buildings that surrounded us. Out of reflex more than anything else, I threw myself to the ground, dragging the office with me. As I took cover behind the cop car, I tried to count the muzzle flashes but there were to many to be able to get an accurate number. Whoever was following through in the contract had come well prepared and well maned. 

”Fuck. I can’t tell how many are out there.” I spoke to the cop but he seemed to be staring straight through me. I grabbed him by the collar, landing a heavy slap across his face before pulling him closer, screaming over the sound of the bullets that tore into the thin metal that was protecting me now,  “I need you to listen right fucking now! I’m not dying on a fucking street in the desert! I’m going to flank! Count to ten and then unload! I don’t care if you hit anything or not! Just-just fucking fire!”

Slipping off to the side, I waited for Niss’ partner’s revolver to join Niss’ before swinging around the side of one of the many cars that lined the street. By now, I had my pistol out of its holster again, keeping it close to my body as I kept as low to the ground as possible. I stopped behind the bumper of the nearest vehicle, carefully peering around the corner to spy four assailants still occupied with the officers across the street.

Four shots, four men. That was the only way this could work. The longer it dragged on, the higher the percentage of an innocent getting hurt grew.

Drawing a slow breath in, I spun on my heels, squeezing the trigger for the first time as I did. I caught the closest man in the side of the neck, sending him crashing to the ground as he clutched and grabbed at the sprouting blood. 

Thanks to the cover fire I was getting from the officers, no one else seemed to realize what direction the kill shot had been fired from. I pulled the trigger in rapid succession. Two head shots followed leaving only one left. He realized it a bit too late, turning to face me as he raised his gun but, far too slow as I fired a single shot into his chest taking him clear off of his feet. 

The streets quieted completely as the shots died into the night. I didn’t dare move for some reason, keeping myself pressed against the bumper as Sargent Niss came over, offering me his hand and pulling me to my feet, “Thank you. I-uh-my wife will appreciate it.” He managed to squeak out, almost avoiding all eye contact.

”Just get the fuck out of town. They’re going to kill you other wise.” I didn’t wait for a response as I turned quickly, walking in the opposite direction of the incoming police sirens.

I wasn’t really a fan of this type of thing but sometimes, a message needed to be sent. Not only to the intended target but those close to them. There were certain unwritten rules about this thing and once they were broken, it really didn’t matter how untouchable someone thought they were. 

Under the cover of night, I positioned myself between the two cars so that any passerby wouldn’t be able to see me. It was tedious work but one of those things that needed my complete focus otherwise there would be tiny little pieces of me scattered up and down the block. 

I let out a soft sigh as I connected the last wire, slowly backing away before pushing myself fully to my feet. I had been paying enough attention and learning as much as I could to the point that I felt comfortable with my work. Now it was just a matter of drawing them out. 

Tucking myself into the shadows of the adjacent alleyway, I pulled my gun from beneath my jacket. Cocking it back as I drew in a slow steady breath. All I needed was a bit of chaos to get the show started. I could hear the voices from inside of the old bar but most of them were innocents, just out and about on a warm summer night. Sure, I may have needed chaos at the moment but it needed to be controlled chaos, just enough to get the right people heading into the right direction. 

Steadying my arm as I raised my pistol, I fired a single shot into one of the upper windows, sending it crashing inward. It was only a second or two later before I heard the panic screams from inside and the front doors nearly exploded outwards as the rush of bodies tried their best to escape the gunfire. 

I pushed myself farther into the darkness of the alley, leaving myself just enough room to peer around the corner. The body guard flung the back door open, nearly tossing his boss into the back seat before jumping into the driver’s seat. As soon as the key turned in the ignition, the explosion was enough that I felt the heat on my face, even back as far as I was from it.

I probably should have felt something but it was just another job, just another piece removed from the board. 

After the last job, I holed up in a hotel in Vegas for a little bit. It wasn’t so much as a vacation but more of time to catch my breath. Truth be told I didn’t do much but sleep. Burning the candles at both ends was starting to catch up with me. If I didn’t reset my clock now I was going to burn out rather quickly. 

By the third night, I was feeling a bit antsy. I lifted my wallet out of my back pocket, sliding a business card out of it as I picked up the phone before dialing the number on it. After two rings, the line picked up, “Evening, Sir, it’s Billy Russo...ah, thanks, thanks, boss. It is what it is...I was calling to see if you had another? Just need a name and I’ll take care of the rest...one second, let me grab a pen.” I placed the receiver down before taking a few gingerly steps to the other side of the room, grabbing a pen from my bag. “I’m back boss...Ryan_Anderson, thank you, Sir. I’ll be in touch.”

I hung up the phone, rubbing at the bridge of my nose for a moment. The good thing about this line of work is that you can make friends in low places. I picked up the phone again, dialing a number that I had committed to memory, “Hello, Ruth, it’s Billy Russo, I’m in need of a bit of a favor...I need a profile of Ryan_Anderson, nothing spectacular, the bare bones should suffice. I know it’s late, but no time like the present and what not...Thank you, Ruth. Call me back in, let’s say half an hour with whatever you’ve got...Perfect, thanks again Ruth, I owe you a dinner when I’m back in town.”

After getting off the phone with Ruth, I hoped in the shower quickly before kicking my feet up on the bed with my notepad, waiting on the call back. True to her word, Ruth called back in half an hour, “Yea, It’s Billy, got anything for me?...Ah, fuck, is it still raining up there? I swear it never stops fucking raining in Seattle...Alright, alright, down at the Waterfront it is...I figured there would be one or two guards kicking around. I suppose that’ll make it a bit more interesting...Nah, that should do it. Thank you, Ruth. Pick out a restaurant, I should be back in a few days...Have a good night, I’ll check in soon.”

Well, I guess that meant I was heading west. I slung my bag over my shoulder before dropping the key onto the small table and pulling the door shut behind me. Giving a quick glance at my watch I realized I’d have to move a little quicker if I wanted to catch a flight at this time of night.

The flight into Seattle was a pain in the ass. Heavy rain and near constant turbulence had me clutching my arm rests tighter than I ever thought possible. I swear I left finger dents in them I was squeezing so hard. The only good thing about a rough flight was that while I was clinging on for dear life, I wasn’t able to down drink after drink of vodka and seltzer. It was probably if I was of clear mind for whatever was coming. 

Once the plane finally landed and I was able to pry my fingers open, I hurried through the airport, standing in the rain for a minute or two while I waited on the next available cab. By the time it pulled up to the curb in front of me, the light rain turned into a full on down pour leaving me completely soaked from head to toe. 

Sliding into the back seat, pulling my bag in after me, I leaned my head back against the seat and closed my eyes for a moment. I was never one to question an assignment but, did I really want to be doing this now? I hadn’t slept in days, especially after everything with Taiga and now Sana and how deep I dove into many, many bottles, I was exhausted. My joints were sore. My muscles ached. 

But, that’s just how it was. I lifted my head slowly, letting out a small sigh as I pulled the piece of paper from my pocket, “I’m looking for an address down on the docks. A warehouse actually. Down in Waterfront. One twenty five Dally Way, three-c.”

”I know just where it is.” The cabbie replied friendly enough, granted I was tired enough that everything was starting to sound jumbled.

I shifted in my seat a bit uncomfortably, mistakes happen when people are tired. Mistakes in turn, usually lead to unfavorable outcomes. In this line of work, unfavorable outcomes mean, at the very slightest, a few stitches and at the worst, a trip to the undertaker. 

What I needed was three or four solid nights of sleep but, there was work to be done. Work that didn’t particularly care if I was tired or not. It was for the family. There wasn’t any brushing that to the side because I had been drowning in a bottle. It needed to be done and I was tasked with taking care of it. 

I tried my best to familiarize myself with my surroundings, but all I could see where distorted inmates through the streaks of rain. It didn’t take very long and soon enough the cab pulled to a halt. I slipped a few folded hundreds to the driver and asked him politely not to recognize me if anyone came asking. He responded as if he got that request every day, nodding his head with a sly wink. I climbed out of the car, shut the door and headed towards three-c, a bit of a way down the dock.

I hugged the buildings as I moved. Sticking to the shadows wasn’t all that hard considering the heavy rain that was falling. Three-c was only a few buildings down on the left but I was still soaking wet as I tried my best to wipe the water out of my eyes and look through the rain soaked window. 

It was a bit of a struggle but I managed to spot three men moving about inside. One of the men was sitting behind a desk, looking as if he was writing something down. The other two killed about the room, looking more bored than anything else.

Everything that Ruth gave me seemed to be panning out. Now, I just needed a way in. The heavy pitter-patter of the rain would help dull the sound as long as I was careful. I’m sure if I went banging around like an animal it would tip them off soon enough.

I stuck to the side of the building, circling to my left until I found a door with a flickering light above it. It took a little longer than I had intended, but despite the dripping wet hands, I managed to jimmy the tumbler and pick the door open. I tried to stay as quiet as possible as I slipped inside, closing the door with a light push as I did.

Inside was the typical warehouse, large boxes and crates were scattered here and there. A couple of brand new Fords were parked off to the side, from the looks of them, brand new. There was an open door towards the back that dim light poured from back in the direction where I had spotted the desk through the window. 

I knew that there were three of them inside. Being outnumbered wasn’t ideal but it forced me to use my edges to an advantage right now. They had no idea I was there so I still had the element of surprise on my side. The real question was how much faith did I have in my speed. If I was quick enough, I could deal with them easily enough before anyone knew what was happening. Of course, if I was wrong I was most likely going to catch more than one bullet in there.

I took a deep breath, looking around as I did. There was a small rolling cart to my left with a wooden tool box sitting on top of it. I grabbed the biggest screwdriver I could find on it before tipping the box over loudly onto the floor, sending the metal tools bouncing and clattering over the cement floor. 

I could hear rushed murmuring from the other room as I stepped back into the shadows, kneeling down behind a crate to conceal myself there. It was only a few seconds later before one of the thugs came to investigate. As soon as he turned his back to me, I swung around the side of the crate, clasping a hand over his mouth as I jammed the screwdriver with full force into the base of his skull. His body twitched a bit as I lowered him cautiously to the ground.

It was only going to be a few seconds or two before his partner came to check on him so I slipped back into the shadows behind a different set of crates this time and waited. The familiar sound of boot steps on the concrete warned me as the second man exited the office. I timed it just right as I he let out an audible gasp of surprise, I sprung forward, taking him off of his feet as I stabbed the already bloodied screwdriver underneath his chin over and over until he stopped moving. 

Wiping a bit of blood splatter off of my face with the back of my hand, I stood slowly, still clutching the dripping weapon tightly in my hand. I stalked my way over towards the office door, stepping into the light before Ryan Anderson could even notice me.

As I stepped into the large office, I rested my hand on the butt of my colt, the dripping screwdriver still held tightly in my other fist.

“Don’t move Anderson.” I kept my voice low, even keeled. There wasn’t any point in losing my cool now, “Palms on the desk. Let’s make this nice and simple. No sudden movements, all of that jazz.” I got the strange feeling like I was too relaxed during all of this but I pushed that thought away for another time, “I’ve dealt with men like you before. I know there’s a revolver sitting in the drawer to your right and a sawed off bolted underneath the desk within arms reach.”

I took slow sideways steps to my right, making sure that I circled the desk, never standing directly in front of it just in case Mr. Anderson did make a move. I positioned myself so that I was out of the line of sight to the doorway, leaning up against the wall with my fingertips still drumming the handle of my colt. “I can only assume that you know why I’m here. You have something that belongs to my employer. I’m under explicit instructions to do whatever it takes to retrieve their property. However, I’ve got to be honest with you. I’m impressed. It’s not every day that someone pulls one over on the family. And that fake replica! That took some serious skill.” 

Making sure to let an uncomfortable silence fall over the room, I decided to push him a bit, try to see the reaction I could get, “It’s just you and me now. Your two lackeys won’t be join us. I’m offering you a job. Pays a hell of a lot better than your whole kleptomaniac thing and guys like me won’t be showing up at your doorstep anymore.”

Ryan Anderson did show any reaction. In fact he was acting like this was a regular occurrence for him. I got a slight uneasy feeling. Either he knew something that I didn’t or he was that cold and calculated, which was exactly what I was looking for when I offered him the job. 

It took a moment to register in my mind but before I could get my words out, I heard the deafening echo of a gun shot. I shot a glance down at my colt still holster and then back at Anderson’s desk where his hands still sat palms down, unmoving. Things seemed to slow down as I turned to my left to see a small bullet hole in the office’s window that looked out onto the loading dock floor. 

I let instinct take over as I threw myself to the floor out of a reaction more than anything. The wind left my lungs as I landed. I didn’t land that hard, certainly not enough to take the wind out of me. As more shots broke through the glass, I dropped the screwdriver and felt over my torso, my hand almost immediately covered in a hot, sticky liquid. 

Fuck, through the haze of the rain and taking Ruth’s word on there only being two guards, I missed at least one while I was dispatching the other two. I fumbled for my gun but my fingers couldn’t match up with what my brain was screaming at them to do. I felt a cold shudder working it’s way out from the center of my body as the shooting stopped momentarily, replaced with the sound of heavy boots heading in my direction. 

Well, I thought to myself as I struggled to get to my feet, this seems like a fitting end. The source of the gun fire quickly came into view, even if my vision was starting to go a bit blurry. He was an average looking guy, no taller or shorter than anyone else with a patchy beard and no distinguishing marks, just average. The type of person you’d forget netting ten minutes after doing so. 

The sounds were muted a bit but I noticed Anderson move out if the corner of my eye. He was now standing behind the desk pointing the revolver at his worker’s head. “I’m sorry about this, Phil but, he made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

The ringing in my ears intensified as Ryan Anderson pilled the trigger, Phil falling awkwardly to the ground before the lights turned out.

I had the vague recollection of bouncing around in the backseat down twisting dirt roads but I really couldn’t be sure if that was more memory or fever induced dreaming. 

Opening my eyes slowly, I tried my best to look around without moving too much. The once sharp pain had dulled to more of a low roar now. It still hurt every time I drew a breath but at least I was still breathing. That was a good thing at least. As far as I could tell, I was lying in a worn leather couch that was surprisingly comfortable given circumstances. There was a black doctors bag sitting on the floor, a few instruments and bloody rags sitting beside it.

I could hear talking coming from the other room but I couldn’t make out the words and I didn’t have the energy right now to drag myself up to see who it was. The fact that I was still alive and bandaged meant they were friendly but my memories of the past few hours or so were spotty. I remembered Anderson drawing his weapon and firing and then snippets in a car but after that it was all blank. 

My side hurt like hell but none the less, I tried to grip onto the back of the couch and pull myself up. As my fingers numbly clutched to the leather I got about three inches up before collapsing back down. The voices must have heard me struggling and rustling around as they abruptly cut out and I could hear footsteps heading in my direction across the hardwood floor. 

Thankfully, by now, the ringing in my ears from before had cut out and I could make out the words clearly, Ryan Anderson walked in the room first followed by a rounder, short fellow with wire rimmed glasses and rosy red puffy cheeks. “Wow, I’m surprised you’re up.” I recognized the voice as Anderson’s, “It’s only been a couple of hours. I wasn’t sure you were going to pull through. Dr. Lesko here,” he motioned to the gentleman standing off to his side, “put some serious work in.”

The doctor cleared his throat before stepping forward slightly, “You’re going to need some serious rest. No hard labor, no physical activities. Really, you should stay in bed for as long as you can. But,” his voice was deep, much deeper than I would have guess upon first seeing him but there was a certain twinge in his words that suggested he truly loved what he did, “You should be fine. I pulled the fragments out, three of them, one from your lung. I can not stress this enough,” the doctor raised his voice a bit, “Rest. Lots and lots of rest.”

Without another word, he gathered up his tools into his bag, threw out the blood stained rags and shook Mr. Anderson’s hand before quickly departing with an expanded envelope that I could only imagine was full of cash.

Ryan Anderson grabbed a chair, pulling it over so that he was sitting facing me on the couch, “We’ve got somethings to talk about you and I.”

“Where are we?” I asked as I struggled to get my feet on the floor.

Anderson smirked for a moment before replying, “An old family farm. Handed down in the family for generations. Been a while since I was last here.”

Grimacing through the pain a bit, I keep my breathing as steady as I could before it passed, “Why bring me here at all? Why patch me up? You could have let your goon put a bullet between my eyes or even just left me there. So, why?”

”Self preservation, maybe?” Anderson shrugged his shoulders, “I want to show you something if you can get up and move.”

I wasn’t in any position to refuse the help up, so I accepted Anderson’s hand as he pulled me awkwardly to my feet with only a slight stumble. I shuffled off behind him as he exited the farm house, heading in the direction of a faded red barn. I could see dim lights shinning through the cracks around the door and warped wood. Before he could even push the sliding door open, I was slammed in the nostrils by the smell. It was a smell that I had grown accustomed to over the years. One that I had learned to appreciate. 

The old wood door creaked open and I was immediate basked in artificial light. Rows and rows of leafy flowers stretched the full length of the entire building. A few workers were scattered throughout, clipping leaves here and there, water row after row.

”You see,” Ryan began to speak after gauging my reaction, “You said something earlier about paying better. As you can probably tell, I’m not all that interested in the pay day.” I followed along as he strode into the barn, continuing as he did, “The family business has been booming of late and I’m rather well off but, if I can be honest with you, I’m surprisingly bored. I only started the knock off gems on the side just to do something. I want to be in something a bit more substantial. Something with higher risks and rewards. And I’m also very much interested in that whole no more guys like you showing up thing.”

”I’ve got to give it to you, kid, I’m impressed. I thought you were a simple counterfeiter, a good one but a counterfeiter none the less.” I looked around wide eyed, running my fingertips over a few leaves every so often, “I’ll admit, I’m a bit caught off guard by all this. When I offered you the job I didn’t know about any of this.”

”Here’s the deal that I’m willing to make,” Ryan Anderson crosses his arms across his chest, a little defiantly, “I want in. The schemes, the plans, the nitty gritty, the protection. All of it. In exchange, the family gets exclusive rights to Anderson Farm’s products. This is one of three on this property plus a whole bunch more under different names scattered throughout the state. That’s revenue that I don’t think you’re going to be able to ignore.”

He was right. I couldn’t turn away from a revenue stream like that. I had offered the job before I knew any of this anyways, this was all just icing on the cake.

”Welcome to the family, Mr. Anderson.”