After speaking with Scratchy and establishing a job at his shop in Detroit I figured it was necessary for me to settle in here. A few days prior I came down on business, little did I know while I was here my crew in Vegas was being wiped out, found out after I left Scratchy's shop. Luckily I ran into Scratchy when I did, although the circumstances were unfortunate I saw no reason to return to Vegas.

So after I left the shop I got myself an apartment a few blocks away and settled in as best I could. That night I went out for coffee and ended up running into a very familiar face in Detroit, and luckily I struck a deal.

So here I was at 10:03pm in my run down brick building apartment, I had watched out the window throughout the day and seen many things, kids playing, a fight or two, some vandalism and a couple who had quite the heated argument. With new alliances in place I had a lot to do so I wanted to catch up on sleep, it had been a tough few days. I turned out the lights and prepared for my 3rd night in the Motor City.

2AM

I hear my door jingling, I jump out of bed and grab my pistol and very quietly hide behind the entrance door. After a couple minutes of playing with my door a shady figure enters my apartment and begins to walk through the living room for valuables. Shutting the door quietly and flicking on the light with my pistol drawn on the intruder, and turns quick and realizes I have a gun on him. He drops his gun and says "Listen don't kill me ok!, I made a mist-".

I cut the man short "Relax I don't want to kill you, take a seat."

As he sits down he says "I seen you before!, you were speaking with KateLogan down at the diner!, oh shit I had no idea you were with her I swear!."

I place down a bottle of whiskey and 2 glasses, taking a seat across from the man. "Like I said relax!." I pour a drink for both of us and ask the man a question "you serve in the war?". Guy takes his drink and says "no why?... did you?."

I take a drink of whiskey before answering "couple years, Germany!, it was nothing short of a nightmare, most days we would take cover in a hole we dug ourselves, and often times its where we slept." I take another drink before continuing. "I remember one night this German soldier was getting close to my position, that night I couldn't sleep... lucky right?. I had my pistol in my hands, same one I have on me now... waiting for him to get close. When he did I fired off a shot that pierced his neck, his gun dropped to the ground. He pushed against his neck groaning in pain, I took his gun so there was no chance for him to take me down with him. He stayed like this for hours!, clinging to life, I offered many times to put him out of his misery but he was stubborn. After 3 hours of suffering he stopped fighting!, I was amazed at how determined he was to live... some people cling to life, others could care less."

I finish off my drink as the man swallows, you could see the lump in his throat as he listened to the story with fear.

"I'm going to let you walk out that door!, I never want to see you around these parts again!."

Man speaks up in a scared tone "you won't!".

The man jumps up leaving his drink on the table, walking fast towards the door. Before he leaves I speak up "Wait!, never told me your name."

The man was to nervous to turn around, he speaks up and says "Christopher."

"Well Christopher thanks for welcoming me to Detroit, your free to go...I hope you remember this day, and consider yourself lucky."

Roughly 2:30 in the morning, and Bishop was of course still policing the streets in Detroit. He had watched as a younger lad had popped the lock on a random house. He had planned on knocking the lad as he came out. Kate and this certain gentleman had been talking, so he was at least -somewhat- protected.

Then the light flipped on as the door shut, "Fockin' shite..." Bishop grumbled and rushed across the street to make sure things weren't about to go more awry than they should.

What he saw, made him laugh a bit on the inside. The lad was caught, red handed, by the new man in town. Bishop listened, keeping his head just below the window, to the story the older gentleman told. Stories of war against the Germans. Stories he remembered himself, even if it was a different fight.

As the war story comes to an end, and the man tells the young lad names Christopher is free, Bishop slips around the corner to remain hidden. "Lucky," he thought to himself as Christopher exited the house... "We'll see on that, won't we lad." He made sure to get a good look at Christopher, rounding the corner and running straight into the boy. Meeting his eyes, Bishop caught him before he fell. "Whoa there, lad. Sorry abou' that. Should be watchin' where I be goin' instead o' havin' me head down!" He slapped the young lad on the back before walking off as if it was all an accident, keeping a new wallet safely tucked away in his coat. Research needed to be done on the boy.