Rain bombarded the city of Chicago. It's icy drops put the city in a state of chill, the moon watching them fall like a dedicated soldier on guard duty. Francisco drove slowly through the quiet neighborhood, looking for a house with the number 362. In the back he had an associate that was to prove his loyalty to the family tonight. It was a nice neighborhood, big lawns and intricate designs on the front doors, columns of stone on either side. Very fancy. Francisco slowed to a stop in front of one particularly large house, it even had a small pond in the front. Francisco parked the car and killed the engine, he peered through the passenger window. Only one light was on in the whole house, the den. The window peering in was layered with elaborate designs that distorted the view inside, but Francisco could tell there was at least 3 men in there, possibly more. Among those men was the former owner of a brewery just outside of town, who used to work for the family. But he sold that brewery to a gang of Polish thugs with some more change in there pocket than expected. He basically told the family to take a hike. The man in the back of Francisco's car was his business partner. He was to be killed as well, but Francisco gave him another chance. The freezing rain assaulted the windshield, Francisco turned to the man behind him and handed him a revolver. "All you gotta do is kill him. I'll take care of everything else." The man took the revolver reluctantly, he looked like he was about to be sick. Francisco reached over to the passenger seat and picked up a Tommy Gun. He slapped a magazine into the gun and pondered for a moment whether he should take a second one, but decided against it. One would be enough.

Francisco stepped out of the car and was immediately soaked by the fusillade of water pouring from the sky. He shivered and put his hat on, at least that kept the rain out of his face. He turned around towards the house, flipped the safety off, and took aim. He saw one of the figures in the house turn their heads towards the window. He pulled the trigger. [i]RATATATATATATATATATAT-RATTATATATATTAATAATTTAT[/i] an onslaught of bullets shattered the window, and tore through the contents within. A light broke and the den went dark, and the only sound was the rain. Francisco wasn't worried about the police, Nicolai had paid them to stay out of this part of town for tonight. He smacked the roof of the car and proceeded up the lawn. He came up to the window and peered through the shattered glass teeth. 2 men lay on the carpet, glass and blood mixed. Their bodies were riddled with bullet holes, and Francisco wondered how much ammo he had used. He popped the magazine and looked. About half, he put the magazine back in and stepped into the room. The furniture was shredded to bits, fluff and cloth lay strewn about the room. Several painting and pictures had fell and broke, the mirror on the back wall was half shattered. He heard his associate come up behind him and gasp at the carnage that was this once lovely room. Francisco turned to him and used his gun to beckon him further into the home. He had to be the one to kill his former partner. The man visibly swallowed and led the way, gun outstretched. He didn't get 20 feet into the house when he turned the corner and yelped, discharging a bullet into the wall. Francisco came to his side and saw their man laying against the hallway wall, blood smeared across it as he had made his way down. He turned his head towards his attackers and said "Fuck You." Francisco looked expectantly at his associate, who seemed to be glued to the floor. Francisco nudged him with his elbow and he jumped. When he looked at him, Francisco said quietly "You know what to do."

The man licked his lips nervously and proceeded towards the bloody figure. The downed traitor's eyes followed his every movement, until the barrel of the revolver was pointed between them. The man adjusted his grip, whimpered and closed his eyes while quickly pulling the trigger at the same time. [i]BANG[/i] the man's body jolted as his former partner shot him. Francisco clapped his shoulder and said "Good work, I know it must've been hard. Go wait for me in the car, I'll only be a moment." His associate nodded numbly and walked past him. Francisco rested his gun on his shoulder and crouched down and dug through the dead man's trouser pockets. He pulled out a slightly crumpled envelope and tucked into his coat pocket. He then turned and exited out the window.