The crowd of people rushes around, each carrying out their own daily routines. No one really stops to notice the small diner on the corner, where a medium built man enjoys a cup of fresh coffee, deliberating over the place he has forced his life into so far. Sitting at a booth in the corner, the man known as Saint has a blank look on his face, scanning over the crowds that hustles by him at a steady pace. He tips up his cup of morning euphoria, and politely asks the waitress for another, a multitude of thoughts crowding his head.

I never envisioned myself leading a life of crime in my mid 30s, but who are we to argue with fate? I joined the Marines as soon as the recruiter told me I was old enough. There was a war raging across the globe, but certainly no one thought America would be dragged into it..but we were wrong. On April 5th, 1917, my Sergeant told me to pack my bags; I was going to France. It wasn't long before I was stuck in some of the fiercest fighting the world has ever seen, and I will never forget it. The images of men dying a horrible death by gas, or being mowed down by the hundreds with the new machine guns. This war was terrible, certainly a war to never be forgotten throughout the ages. I fought in Belleau Wood alongside a man named Cates, a Lieutenant that had more balls than any man I have ever met in my entire life. The Germans learned in those short weeks what Americans were capable of.

As I came home, I looked at the world in a different perspective. I sized up people, I calculated everything. I just couldn't help myself. I soon discovered I had no place among blue collar working Americans. They thought I was crazy; said I didn't fit in with "normal people". I asked myself, what is normal? Who would take me, then?....

..The answer came to me one night, in the form of a younger lady. I was heading home from the pub, and I was stopped along the way by a woman dressed in mostly dark affects, calling herself Ellies. She said she worked for a man named Kraven. The name was familiar to me, though I was not sure where. She had apparently followed me from the bar, where she had observed me there for some time. She inquired about one particular tattoo I had on my left arm, particularly the meaning of, "Blood, Brains, Balls" -- something my father had passed to me, from his father. Our conversation lasted quite some time, and she seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say; especially about my military background. As we were preparing to part ways, she offered me some work, just a few odd jobs here, and there...little did I know, I was accepting my first jobs from the Family.

Finishing his cup, Saint leaves a generous tip and rises, striding towards the door with an almost inhuman grace. Lessons of discipline and pride pounded into his body, soul and spirit through pain and suffering. His wide shoulders carving a path into the throng of busy people, he soon disappears among the crowds, lost once again to the streets.

Seeing Saint attempt to disappear, Jeff approaches him and notions him into the nearby alley.

I've got a job, I need a crew and heard you were looking for work.

A car pulls up and Jeff opens the door, turns to Saint and says,

You can explain your credentials on the way.

Instinctively sizing up the man that approaches him, Saint recognzies him as Jeff, a Made Man from his family.
 Jeff offers him to get into the car; that he has work. Not one to turn down an opportunity, Saint obliges the man and climbs in.

"Pending on what you have in mind, friend, you won't find someone better than me. You want a heist or a hit; I'm the guy. I was trained by the best and I served with the best in the Great War, so a bigger set of balls will be hard to find too. Cates instilled that in me the hard way. So, what did you have in mind?"

Saint leans back into the seat, arms folded across his lap; relaxed, waiting for a response.

Takes out two bottles of beer, starts to open them and says,

In due time my friend, but I'd like to get to know more abot you before I let you in on the plan. I can't have just anyone doing the things I need you to do. You have to have a brain and a good shot to do what I need you to do. So please relax, I have all day. Beer?

Holds the beer in front of Saint.

Gladly accepting the drink from the man, Saint turns the bottle up for a good swig.

"Well, what do you want to know? You have my full attention."

Turns to him with a smile,

I need to know how far our willing to push yourself, the war should bring back horrible memories but I can't use somebody who can't handle pressure. If you can give me an impressive war story without flinching, you're in.

Saint is reluctant at first to discuss the war, or what he had seen or done in it; however that view changed after a few beers.

"No one thought we be forced into any kind of major battle at first, there was just talk of a US presence in the European theatre as kind of a symbol of our commitment to our allies. Before we knew what was happening, however, there was a crisis: Sixty thousand German soldiers and their armor were within stones throw of Paris. There was only one obvious solution: US Marines.."

Saint sets the stage for the Battle of Belleau Wood in which he served under 1st Lieutenant Cates' rifle company, in the deadliest single engagement of the war.


"Sgt MCKAMAEL! GET THOSE ME-----" the rest of the statement was cut off by another German artillery round slamming home on our position. "SAINT! Those guns are tearing us a new ASSHOLE! Take your squad out and STOP THEM," Cates screamed over the never ceasing machine gun fire, ordering me to find those artillery pieces and try and stop the barrage. I took the 12 best men from my platoon, and we started advancing. We made it an entire twenty feet before we could push no further under the intense fire, and the artillery only got more frequent. By the time we made it back to the line there was only myself left from my squad, by some miracle. Cates and myself were trying to figure out how to accomplish our mission for that day; how to hold the line. Going against every core instinct in our body, we were not to advance. We were fully willing to die in the attempt at taking the German lines and pushing them out of the Wood; but that was not to be the case today. While we had not been paying that much attention, a wire-dog had crawled up beside us. It was a small man with one end to a telegraph and a spool of wire attached to his back. He ordered Cates onto the radio; that the Commanding Officer of the Brigade wanted a word with him. "Yes sir.....yes....no sir...yes sir. I have only two men out of my company and 20 out of some other company. We need support, but it is almost suicide to try to get it here as we are swept by machine gun fire and a constant barrage is on us. I have no one on my left and only a few on my right. I will hold." That was it. We were going to hold our line, stand true to our colors and never back down......

....three days later, we were in the same position. By some miracle of God we had survived that hell, and now we had been reinforced by an entire rifle Battalion. It was time.....


....we pushed, and we pushed. The tenacity with which we forced ourselves down the throat of the beastly German war-machine was unmatched; we could see the pure fear in their eyes when we approached: bayonets affixed, knives in hand for those who had run out of ammo, and guns blazing -- all of us with the look of the Devil himself in our eyes. We were determined to win....

....it took us three long weeks in hell; but the Wood was ours. The Germans were on the retreat out of France all together from the beating they had taken...

"It is a terrible thing to watch men die. To hear them screaming at all hours of the day and night, to watch them dismembered limb from limb. For my years spent alongside the best, I was the best. There was no tactical problem I couldn't overcome; I had been trained by the best.....so, you have someone better in mind?"

Finishing his story with the same cold gaze he began with, Saint finishes off his second beer, waiting for the man to react to what he had said.

Jeff smiles and slowly turns to the driver and says,

"Take me to the Indigo Lounge."

He then turns back to Saint and says,

"Are you sure your ok with killing someone's father, someone's husband, or someone's son? 'Cause I need a stone cold killer."

Without missing a beat, Saints reply is steady, "They sent me all over Europe, butchering men I didn't know because I was ordered to do it. What makes you think I wont kill someone thats wronged me, or that I can profit from it?"

Seeing that Saint is unndoubtedly serious he tells him,

"Good, we're robbing a bank. I need you to take down a guard and do some crowd control. You'll be filled in on the details when we get to the Indigo Lounge after you've met the rest of the crew."