Karma stuck to the shadows as he walked down the street a few blocks from the high-rise apartment building where his brother's penthouse was. A large military APC rumbled past him in the opposite direction, no doubt headed towards the flames that had engulfed the top of apartment tower. 

Karma had been sure to search the entire penthouse for clues about his brother's whereabouts but had found nothing, meaning Aster had certainly cleared off. He decided to burn the place then, destroying any evidence of his being there. He also made sure to stage it as though Mr. Beans had left the stove on during a wild romp with his dead crackwhore, also completely removing the notion of murder. When Karma had worked as an Enforcer for his father, he had performed many jobs like this. He was well trained at covering his tracks.

As the loud growl of the APC died off further down the street, a familiar vibration disturbed the inside pocket of his coat. He reached inside to grab his personal cell phone. Nobody usually contacted him via his own phone. [b]"Speak."[/b] He said. The voice on the other end was timid and almost too quiet, but Karma couldn't be bothered to tell him to speak up. They spoke about a 'Baba Yaga', an old associate of his father with close links to the Russian underworld. But as far as anyone else knew, it was an old international shipping account that the Gambinos had used to import premium Russian Vodka under the same name. Karma's spine shivered a little at the thought of the man behind it. 

[b]"Baba Yaga?"[/b] He asked, [b]"That account was closed some time ago. Who's been asking about it?"[/b] The man stuttered as he replied, relaying the information that a package was being sent for the owner of the account, to his office in L.A. with a 10-digit parcel number that he could track it with. Instantly, Karma knew that there was no package and that the parcel number was actually a phone number for him to call. Which meant that this was a direct reach out towards him for help. The man on the other end of the line had likely been called by the associate to pass on the message through the usual channels but had realized the gravity of such a call and had informed him via the emergency procedure. Some might have deemed it as reckless but Karma respected his decision. [b]"I'm on my way back to the office now, tell Barbara to hold all of my calls and appointments."[/b]

He hung up the phone immediately and placed his personal mobile back into his inside pocket before reaching into his side pocket to grab his burner phone, an ancient flip-lid cell used to make off-the-record calls. The FBI had been clamping down on Mafia families for years now. Burner phones were the safest way to talk these days. He recited the 10-digit number in his head whilst simultaneously inputting it into the keypad then he pressed the green phone button and started the call.

The dial tone rang for a few moments before the sound of the call being answered played through the speaker. Karma spoke then, [b]"It's been a while Mr. Craig."[/b]