Dynamite had long been retired having served most of his service in Los Angeles. His son Shane had brought him along to various family events but Dynamite felt a bit of relief to sit back and relax, to smell the proverbial roses. Shane had disbanded his crew and Dynamite ended up purchasing a beautiful estate in Philly.

He had lived there for years, out of the mafia game. Days were spent with the same old routine...he would get dressed in his black suit, maybe change up the tie, then he would visit a coffee shop in the morning, while enjoying the guilty pleasure of smoking, a vice that offer a minute of peace and quiet. Next, he would check out a local cafe or sandwich shop for lunch, where he would sit down and people-watch. He prided himself in always keeping an eye on the streets as situational awareness was key to making it in this life.

One morning, after walking out of the coffee shop, he spotted a mysterious woman donning a hooded scarf and sunglasses who called his name.

"Dynamite," she said to him.

He instantly became wary of this stranger, but then recognized the voice, one he hadn't heard from in a while.

"Breezy!" he exclaimed, skepticism washing away as he realized that this was person definitely not a threat to his life. "Hope you have been well! To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"I know you've been out of the game for a bit, but I need someone I can trust to help run some operations here in Philly," she said to him.

Dynamite didn't hesitate to answer back.

"For you, yes, you've got my support," Dynamite replied, reaching out his right hand for a confirming handshake.

The two shook hands and Dynamite knew that things were going to change for the better.