The sound of footsteps crunching on the handful of sand Sal had thrown on the floor in front of his door made him leap to attention out of a light sleep. A mix of paranoia and suspicion had made Sal's sleep fitful as of late. His hand gripped the pistol underneath his pillow, sliding it out slowly and rolling softly off the edge of the bed, his bare feet making no sound as they hit the floor. He stood there for a moment, holding his breath to listen for any more sounds coming from outside. He exhaled after enough seconds elapsed for him to be able to hear his own blood pumping. Not a sound came from outside.

Was he dreaming? Had his paranoia made him think someone or something was there? He was wide awake now, and the slight adrenaline running through his veins made more sleep tonight improbable. He tip-toed to the window beside his door, listening again for a few seconds before pulling the edge of the curtain back slightly, revealing not a soul. 

He steadied himself a moment, sighing relief before dropping his pistol on a small stand beside the door. If he was not going to get anymore sleep, he may as well get some coffee made, and maybe catch up on some paperwork. He cleaned himself up while waiting for the coffee to be ready, sipping it as he pulled on his suit. Setting the half empty cup on the small stand by the door, trading it for his pistol, which he carefully checked before shoving in its holster under his suit jacket. He looked out the window once more before unlocking the bolts on the door and slipping out quietly.

---

At just after 4 am in the morning, no one was at the HQ when he arrived, as far as he could tell anyway, as it was very dark. He struck a match, lighting a cigarette from his case before using the flickering of the match to guide him to a nearby lamp, a slight breath of air extinguishing the match before he could get it lit. He cursed to himself as his eyes tried adjusting to the dark while he fumbled for another match. 

---

Meanwhile, on the other end of the building, a cleaner had just finished his rounds, collecting garbage in all the rooms, preparing for morning. He made his way out into the back alley to throw the garbage in the bin, and stopped there for a smoke. The night was decently lit by a full moon, and as the cleaner exhaled he looked down, noticing a slight ripple effect in a puddle at his feet. He stopped for a moment, listening and feeling for vibrations. Hearing and feeling nothing out of sorts, he flicked the butt of his cigarette into the puddle and turned to head back inside the HQ.

---

A truck careened around a nearby corner, carrying a resupply of long awaited liquor for the HQ bar. Its front tire splashed through the puddle the cleaner had thrown his cigarette in moments before. The driver popping the door open, stepping out and heading around to the back of the truck, leaving the door wide open. 

---

Inside, Sal had managed to lit the lamp, and had sat it on a desk as he went through inventory, comparing it with the latest stock requests, making sure everything added up properly. Sal and the cleaner were both startled by the sound of a door slamming very loudly in the alley behind the HQ. Sal reached for his pistol and headed into the hallway, making his way toward the back of the building. The cleaner, armed with nothing but a broom-handle, started in the same direction. The driver of the truck outside was just sliding a dolly full of booze through the door when Sal and the cleaner appeared from 2 separate hallways, Sal chuckling to himself as his paranoia gave way to relief, realizing what he had heard.

---

The men went about their business in the wee hours of the morning, as the light slowly came up, splitting the darkness, and making everything look a bit less ominous than it did the night before.

When the rest of the crew started slowly filtering into the HQ that morning, Sal was preparing to head out on his rounds. He'd gotten word that one of the shop owners that consistently paid protection money every week, thought they might be getting stalked by gang bangers. There had been things stolen from the shop, property damaged, and loiterers that seemed unsavory, sometimes even hostile. Sal decided he would head over and check things out, I mean, that's what they pay him for.

---

As he pulled up, things already looked a bit sketchy. A couple young looking thugs stood on each side of the doorway to the shop, glaring at pedestrians, clearly not wanting anyone to go inside unless they wanted them to. The sign that hung outside was pulled half way off the side of the shop, dangling helplessly by a single chain. An ashtray that normally stood by the door had been shoved through one of the windows, shattered glass all over the sidewalk, and Sal imagined inside the store as well.

He'd seen enough to act, grabbing a wooden baseball bat in one hand as he strode towards the young men guarding the doorway. It could still get messy, but a bat was not quite as loud as a gun, and may not draw as much attention. As he neared the doorway, the thug on the left sneered in his direction, till he saw the bat, swinging in Sal's right hand. Then that sneer turned to defensive apprehension. Shit was about to get real...

The tip of the bat dragged slowly across the sidewalk as Sal neared the entrance to the shop, both thugs looking warily in his direction. The closest thug was a stocky sandy haired boy, looking no more than 19, while his mate was thin as a stick, not much older looking, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Sal could see they were both wet behind the ears, not too much unlike he was not too long ago, but Sal showed a confidence that made him intimidating, with a little help from the bat that was now resting readily on his right shoulder.

"I suggest you boys find another place to hang out, this is your one and only warning. You've got about 5 seconds before I take out your kneecaps." (Sal)

Sal's tone was firm and low, and the young thugs could sense the seriousness of the situation. Everyone thinks they are a gangster, till they meet one.

"We ain't wantin' no trouble Mister." (Thin thug)

Sal's eyes narrowed slightly.

"It sure looks like you've already caused some trouble, which I would be willing to forget about if you get the fuck out of here and I never see you here again. This shop is under my protection." (Sal)

---

The boys left without too much fuss, and Sal entered the shop to chat with the owner and assess the damages.

"Its good to see you Sal, I'm not sure how much more of those guys I could take." (Shop Owner)

Sal scanned the inside of the shop, nodding to the owner.

"No payment this week, Louie; put it towards fixing the place up. You've never missed a payment, and I appreciate that." (Sal)

Louie's weak smile oozed gratitude, the relief showed in his tired eyes.

"That's why you're one of the good ones Sal, and I won't forget this."

---

As Louie began his cleanup, Sal walked back towards the car, almost wishing those two boys had put up a fight. He was itching for some good action. He pulled away from the curb, the car racing along with his thoughts, wondering about the next job he would plan, the next fight, the next haul, the next drink.

Sal was wrenched from sleep by the same sound again, just outside his door, the soft crunch of the sand he'd left there. His hand went to his pistol once again, but just as he was swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, a soft knock sounded, tapping lightly on his door. Still wary of what might be out there, he held the pistol behind his back as he threw the bolts and slowly opened the door, revealing a pretty girl Sal faintly recognized, but couldn't place exactly.

"Yeah?" 

That was about all his foggy brain could come up with at the moment, still not fully awake.

"Oh god...I'm so sorry....I shouldn't have knocked. I'm just dumb, forgive the intrusion. I....passed last night as well, but didn't dare. I shouldn't have this time. Oh god, you must think I am a stalker....please for---"

Sal cut her rambling off with a wave of his hand.

It's fine, come in."

Sal walked back inside, slipping the pistol back under his pillow and heading toward his small kitchen. He was awake now, may as well offer the girl some coffee while he figured out who she was.

It had been a week since the girl showed up at his door, and Sal had stopped tossing sand. His paranoia was going away slowly. Business was good, and money was rolling in. It was about time to upgrade and find a new pad. He could afford some comforts now, and there had to be some perks in this thing of ours.

The crew was based in Brooklyn, so Sal decided it was best he stayed relatively close to that area, that being best for business, he figured. He was having a hard time choosing between buying a house outright, or building from scratch. Looking around wouldn't hurt anything though, and if he couldn't find anything he liked, he could always build then. So the search was on.

Sal browsed the rural areas for about a week, not finding anything that caught his attention, until just as he was about to give up, he passed a gated mansion. A marble fence ran around the whole front of the property, with vines fighting against the cold hardness, tangling themselves around it creating a very rustic look. The property ran slightly uphill, with the driveway curving half way around the right side of the house. Sal imagined there was probably a garage back there, but he couldn't see from the road. It was old, and beautiful, and well kept, with a rock garden shaped around a trickling fountain.

This place deserved a better look, and Sal made a note to investigate more. It was the first place he'd seen that felt like it could be a permanent home.

Another week had passed, the house had been paid for and Sal's things brought over. The house looked so big with his meager possessions the only things filling it. It would take some time to fill it with memories and 'stuff'. He had gotten the first real good sleep in a long time, his paranoia had all but faded, except for the two bodyguards he had posted on the property.

---

His rounds that week brought him to Louie's again, and he was interested to see if there had been any more activity since the last incident with those young punks. He came around the same time every week, so Louie was expecting him, but as Sal walked up to the counter, Louie's expression was pained, and his smile seemed forced. Sal imagined it was just fatigue, or something, and thought nothing of it.

"The place looks good Louie, glad to see things back in order. Everything quieted down now?" (Sal)

Louie flashed another fake looking smile towards Sal, but looked right back down at the counter, buffing a spot with a cloth that didn't really look like it needed it. That sent bells off in Sal's head, or maybe they were from the blackjack that connected with the back of his head, but Sal's vision went dark as his body slumped to the floor.