Thirty sat sleepily in the coffee shop, slowly working on his fourth cup of coffee. The shop was a little up-scale for Thirty, definitely not a space he would normally enter, but they had been open at 5am and the owner hadn't kicked him out yet.

It had been a rough night. After ending his shift at the bar at 2am, Thirty had gotten a call on his phone from one of the smaller street gangs. There had been a scuffle over some drug money that had escalated and they needed help disposing of a body. And so Thirty had spent the next two and a half hours running through his contacts before handing the body off to a garbage disposal man. And he meant that literally. The garbage man was affiliated with one of the giant mafias that dominated New York and regularly did these kinds of pick-ups, though Thirty couldn't remember if the man was with the Sicilians or the Spanish.

Either way, by five in the morning Thirty had been tired, grumpy, and in need of coffee and a place to sit down for a few hours. Now in the shop, Thirty was still tired and grumpy, but he felt rested and capable to staying awake for his next job, a quick drop off for the Russians. The garbage man would text him later tonight to let him know the body was completely taken care of.

It was then, as Thirty was contemplating going out for his next job, that Esmeralda walked in. Thirty occasionally did business with the lower levels of the Cosa Nostra and recognized her immediately. It paid to stay aware of those at the top of the underground society.

Thirty stared at the girl. So Esmeralda Cardona, underboss of the Cosa Nostra, frequented this coffee shop. That was valuable information. She was bound to have some enemies that would pay for it.