Thomas spun about, "Huh, hmm?" He smirked, "Sorry, she looked good fer runnin' around tha house on." Turning his attention to the choices, he pointed out a gin, "One shot o' the dry o'er there."

He began to turn and swung back quickly, "An' a water, lad. If yeh don'ae mind."

Content with his order, Thomas spun his stool and leaned against the bar top to watch people come and go. "Yeh ready fer tha day, John. Gonna be a long one." He sighed.

"Been ready to end this for awhile now.".

An hour had past, as people had come and gone... even got to enjoy a fight that broke out between two drunks. As more time went by, a question came up in my head. Turning to Tom I ask "the fuck does this guy even look like?, just realized I never even seen him before... you know anything about him?."

I take a drink of beer and wait for Tommy's response.

"Taller, roughly six-t'ree... Red-'eaded focker, lanky, brown eyes an' freckled. Generally wears a fedora, likes tha color blue, but tha tell tale, gonna be a tattoo on 'is face."

Thomas spun and grabbed his shot as the bartender sat it down, tossing it back quickly. He then moved to the water and held the glass, spinning back away from the bar to lean against it again.

"Think 'e likes ta pretend ta be some full-blooded fockin' Irish prick. Got 'emself a fockin' shamrock under 'is left eye like a fockin' tear. A fockin' four leaf clover, yeh know?"

The bartender, who'd been listening, spoke quietly, "You mean ol' Mr. Reilly? That bastard's been coming in near every day for the last year and meeting with his son. Irish twat robs me of about three-hundred bucks a week."

Thomas looked over his shoulder, shooting the man a look for the last comment, "Oy!"

The bartender waved his hand, "No disrespect meant to you, sir. Anyway, if you have a meet with him, I hope it goes well. Asshole's notorious for being stingy with money and expecting you to not be." The man pointed off to a corner table, "Don't look, but his son is at the back table over there. He'll be here shortly."

Thomas remained seated the way he was and took a look at the table. "Get yerself ready John. Knowin' he's cheap might make it hard ta pitch our sale.""

Being cheap had nothing to do with it, but better to not alert the bartender they planned on killing O'Reilly... Yet.

"Ah Tom your a great salesman, I'm sure if anyone can change his mind its you." Bartender chimes in one final time and asks me what it is we sell. Having to think quick I tell him "Insurance, all types, mainly business insurance... I would give you a card but I forget them back at the office."

After a few more minutes the door swings open, the little bell on the door jingles as O'Reilly emerges through the door. He fit Tommy's description to a tee. "Fucking impressive Tom, just like you described."

O'Reilly makes his way towards his son and takes a seat at the table with him.

"Well Tom, we have a sales pitch to do don't we?."

Thomas hopped up as O'Reilly sat at the far table with his son. "That we do, ol' boyo, that we do."

Striding over to the gentlemen, Thomas grabbed a chair from the table next to O'Reilly and his son, sliding it over and banging the back of the seat into O'Reilly's table. He promptly took a seat, straddling the chair and leaning against it, crossing his arms over his chest and resting them on the back of the chair.

O'Reilly was already complaining, "What the fuck is this? Who do you think you are? Do you know who I am?"

Thomas waved his hand, silencing the mob boss in confusion. "Aye Mr. O'Reilly. I know exactly who yeh are. Me an' me associate have done our research, an' we thought this was tha best place ta meet wit' yeh an' see about doin' some business."

Thomas looked back to Noto and called to him, "Get a bottle o' tha best whiskey o' tha house an' bring it over." He turned back to O'Reilly and grinned. "I know it be rude o' me ta intrude on yer lunch here, so le'mme attempt ta make amends. Sean Ó Diomsaigh is ainm dom. Me associate an' I sell insurance, an' we think we can offer yeh somethin' yeh can'nae refuse..."

Seeing things calm down, everyone returned to enjoying their lunch. John sat the bottle of whiskey on the table along with four glasses and Thomas poured a glass each, offering one to everyone. After taking a sip first, he sat it down and looked back to O'Reilly.

His hands crossed back over his chest and he leaned forward onto the chair again, his right hand snaking underneath his jacket. They continued to speak for a bit, even making O'Reilly laugh. Thomas pulled number after number out of his ass, and eventually looked at Noto.

"Why don' yeh take tha boyo to tha car an' show him some o' tha projects we got in tha binder?" Well if -THAT- wasn't a hint...

The boy looked up to Noto, standing. "I'd like to see what you're working with, so far I'm interested in this opportunity."

As me and O'Reilly's son make our way to the car, I make small talk. "So kid, never caught your name".

He speaks up and says "names Collin! And I'm not a kid...I'm 20! In the future just call me by my first name."

I thought to myself, this was without a doubt O'Reilly's son, an arrogant little prick who was mooching off his Father's success, what ever it was he had accomplished. As we approach the car I open the driver side door, with no documentation what so ever, I had zero proof we were salesmen... so I thought quickly.

"Shit! My apologies Collin, left all the paperwork around the corner at the office me and my business partner are renting. Hop in and ill swing around the block to get it, besides looks like your dad is enjoying my partners company."

The kid looks around before nodding, he hops in the passenger seat as we take off. After driving a good distance from the tavern, I pull into an alleyway next to a brick building. Me and Collin get out of the car as he says "Place is a shithole!" I look at him in a numerous way "well it's all we can afford right now, but it is a shithole... ill give you that."

We walk to the door and Collin goes for the knob, he tries to twist it but its locked. "Fuck is this John! Doors locked!"

Thinking quickly one last time I reply "ok no worries, relax...I have the key in my car. Give the door a knock or two while I grab the key."

Collin turns to knock on the door while I walk towards the car. Once his back is turned I slowly turn back in his direction as he knocks on the door. He knocks twice, meanwhile I aim for the back of his head. He then knocks two more times, but he gets no answer. Now impatient he turns to look at me, he only manages to turn slightly as I fire a shot off that goes through his left eye, adding some red color to the once all white door.

He slides down the door, sitting sideways against it. I fire three more shots into his motionless body. Before drawing attention to myself I get in the car and speed off, leaving Collin lying there. I make my way back to Tommy. 

Soon as Noto and Collin disappeared from the door, Thomas looked back to O'Reilly. "Looks like a good kid, Mr. O'Reilly. Good head on 'im's shoulders, so it is. Good head."

As the two of them continued to speak, Thomas dug a bit further into his jacket...

Everyone in the tavern looked around after hearing what sounded like three firecrackers going off. Mr. O'Reilly slumped forward, his head hitting the table. Thomas, likewise, slouched in his chair. Silence, then screams...

As Noto drove back up, people were running out of the tavern in a frenzy. Some hopped in cars and drove off, some collapsed and began crying, others continued running down the street...

Back inside, Thomas sat up laughing, "Oh tha' one na'er gets old." He looked at O'Reilly, and then the three holes in his jacket. "Time fer a new one o' these." He stood up and the bartender was staring, almost smiling. "Oh thank you boy! I thought I'd never be r..." His words cut short as his head snapped back, blood and gray matter splattering over the bottles and mirrored shelving behind the bar.

Thomas lowered his pistol and sighed, "Sorry boyo. Only one ta positively identify us. Can'nae let that slide." He hopped the bar and closed the man's eyes before grabbing the most potent bottle of liquor he could find. Making his way back to O'Reilly, he dumped the bottle over the dead man's head and body, lit a match, tossed it on him, and watched as he caught ablaze.

Turning back to the bar, he grabbed two bottles of red wine, a single malt whiskey, and a triple distilled vodka; setting them on the bar top. Taking his arm, he raked the rest of the liquor off the shelves and onto the floor. Another match flipped onto the alcohol and his jacket joined the flames. No use keeping it after all. He grabbed his bottles and made for the door.

Noto was already outside waiting for him, a befuddled look on his face when Thomas kicked the door open and smoke bellowed out first. He hustled to the car and sat the bottles in the back before hopping in. The flames quickly spread and the roof began to burn.

"Lad, yeh can sit 'ere an' watch tha fire if yeh want, but I suggest we get tha fock outta here." He chuckled as he punched Noto's shoulder to get his attention from the fire.

"I would usually say you know how to make an entrance, but in you're case... you know how to make a fucking exit!"

I punch the gas and get as far from the building as possible. I turn to Tommy "So I guess its time to head home huh?, I was enjoying my time here in Canada."

I chuckle a bit as we start our journey home.

Thomas laughed a bit, "Figured it be best if nae one can be identifyin' tha bodies. Speakin' o' bodies... Wha' did yeh do wit' tha boyo?"

He pointed to a road, "An' turn here... Pull in ta tha back alley. I need ta hide tha bot'les o' liquor before we head fer tha border."

I pull into the alley way as Tommy asked. Bringing the car to a stop so he could do his thing.

"Ok Tommy lets finish this! Can't wait to get home, although we should visit again soon... only next time no killing. I chuckle a bit while staring at Thomas.

Thomas hopped out and pulled the bottles out, along with his greatcoat and his Thompson Gun. He wrapped everything up in his coat and stuffed everything under the back seat. Hopping back in, he looked to Noto.

"Okay, John. Everythin' should be good, long as we don'ae get stopped an' searched at tha border, t'eres naethin' they can be seein' wit' a peek in tha window."

With a grin, he added, "Le's fly, like shite off a shovel. HOME DRIVER!"

Thomas smacked Noto's arm...again... how many times was that? Three or four times just today? Whatever. They laughed together as Noto headed for the border.

The drive home was easy, and Noto pulled the car up next to the hotel. Thomas waved at a few of the associates and had them grab his coat. "Take it inside, carefully... yeh unnahstan? Don'ae drop it, any o' it. Take it straight ta Mr. Noto's office an' set it t'ere. An' you?" He pointed at one of the associates. "Yeh take Mr. Noto's car an' park it around back. Don'ae get a fockin' scratch on it or it be comin' outta yer skin... Tá?"

The boys nodded and did there jobs as Thomas and Noto headed inside.

"Was a good trip lad, suppose we should get cleaned up an' meet Miss Logan fer dinner like we said."

Thomas grinned and turned for the stairs. He was going to hit one of the Paragon Suites for a quick shower.

FIN