Tom had his arm in a sling from his run in with the Northern Irish which made driving rather hard. He had been pulled over twice but he planned on talking to the boss to suss that out. By the third time the lights flashed red he had, had enough. As the officer approached Tom got out and walked towards him.

"Stop there sir"

Tom stopped and shook his head. A Northern fucking Irish accent. The officer winked and jingled his cuffs. Tom reluctantly put his hands behind his back.

20 minutes of been in the back of the police car passed and Tom started to nod off. The jam of breaks suddenly woke him. Pain went through his arm as the sling had to come off when he was "arrested". Tom looked up at the warehouse that loomed over the car. 'Johns Slaughter House" the sign read. Just the place Tom wanted to be taken too.

A well dressed man walked out the front door, cigar in hand with bodyguards on either side of him.

"Ahhhh Mr Shelby we meet again. Your arm looks painful...you should really get a sling"

The policeman in the front seat turned around and laughed.

"I said the exact same thing right Tom boy"

Tom clenched his bound fists and looked at the ground. Tom would never back down but at times like these it made him wonder why he chose this path. Every successful mobster had to die. Most of them young.

Tom snapped back into reality as he was taken from the car. He heard the click of a gun and braced for the worth.

"Tommy although we said we would get you to work for us, we have changed our minds. You are to much of a threat to what we have here. We know you back the IRA"

Toms face was blank.

"I did back the IRA once. As I backed the red right hand. As I backed the jews. As I backed anyone with money. Im no threat I can assure you"

Tom began to sob then yelled.

"I don't care what the fucking IRA do to you as I don't care what you do to them. Why the fuck drag me into this"

The man nodded and walked off. A shotgun blast...then another. Then another. And another.

"Go home Shelby"

Tom didn't turn to look at the man speaking but looked at the 4 dead men in front of him instead. The police car behind him pulled out and Tom sank to his knees. Tom didn't smile much after the war. He didn't cry much either but then and there he did both.