Luca sits in the back corner of a local Starbucks coffee shop, shielding his face from the average customers that you'd expect to see inside a shop like this. He almost slammed his his head against the table he was sitting at upon to not look up at the most hipsteriest douche he had ever seen in his life. Minutes passed by, the climate in the building becoming closer and closer to standoffish, when the bell ringing sound that denotes that someone just entered the establishment goes off. Luca looks up from his place on the desk to see a face that he recognized, precisely the face that he didn't want to see. Annoyed, he waves the man over to his table, directions that the man follows.

His face was wrinkled with age and God knows what else, the skin under his chin was drooping down into visibility, and he appeared to have a hard time opening his eyes, leaving him looking as if he was half asleep. Slowly pulling out the chair across from Luca, he keeps his eyes fixated on the death stare being given to him by the young man.

"I thought I was meeting him face to face, Frederick."

The old man chuckled at that comment, leaning back in the too expensive for its own good chair. Once he found himself comfortable, he scoffed at the comment.

"You know that no one meets him personality, hell, I was hired through a middleman! It works this way for a reason."

Annoyed, Luca takes a sip of the overpriced drink he regretted buying. Staring blankly at Frederick, who was intently waiting for his response, he slowly begins to speak.

"So, what do you have for me?"

Frederick smiled as he reached down to the ground. Pulling a briefcase up and onto the table, he fiddles with the lock until it falls open. A few papers fall when it opened, but stay within the case. Luca reaches out for them, but Frederick shuts it again, inches away from Luca's fingers.

"Now now, you got to pay up first!"

Frederick began to laugh, until a lung canceresque coughing fit cuts him off. Luca digs in his wallet for the payment, and lays three hundred dollar bills on the table.

"What the fuck is this shit? I said payment, so I better damn well get every cent you owe me on this deal!"

"Okay, what all do I owe you?"

A disgusted look on his face, Frederick forces his mouth to speak without coming across as too offended.

"Fifteen hundred dollars. Cash."

"Fifteen hundred? For that price you might as well be leading me right into the motherfucker's office, and handing me a gun to put to his head! I just asked for information on what he's doing in LA, that's it. Three hundred dollars covers that."

Angrily, Frederick slammed his fists on the table. The look in his eye denoted that he had been screwed out of money like that before, and wasn't too keen on having it happen to him again.

"I said, fifteen hundred dollars. Cash. Now."

A moment of silence occurred while Luca thought of a retort, or bargaining method. He drummed his fingers on the over embellished table, whistling a tune to himself. Frederick, who had enough of Luca's negotiating stood up, about to walk out of the building, when Luca called out and stopped him.

"Hey, wait! Okay fine, fifteen hundred. I don't have that money on me right now, so if you could just follow me to an ATM, I'll get you the rest of the money."

The old man's ears perked up at the mention of the ATM. He turned back toward Luca and nodded, accepting the offer. The young man stood up from his chair and walked out of the building, closely followed by Frederick.

When they had gotten outside, Luca spotted the nearest ATM, about 100 feet away from the entrance to the building, on the side of a McDonald's. He continued walking, the old man still breathing down his neck. As they approached the ATM, Frederick began to become impatient.

"Hurry up, or the deal's off."

Ignoring him, Luca approached the machine, and reached into his pocket, presumably for his debit card. After getting what he needed, he fiddled with something for a moment before spinning around on one heel and revealing what he was really planning.

A silenced pistol was clenched in his hand, and pulling the trigger twice, Frederick was no longer standing in front of him. He was lying on the ground, two bullet holes in his stomach.

Luca relished the irony, the Las Vegas native lying on the ground before him, having lost his last gamble.

"Now, from where you're lying, this probably seems like an eighteen carat run of bad luck, but the truth?

The game was rigged from the start."

One more time he pulled the trigger, the bullet entering Frederick's skull. Blood and brain matter spilled onto the ground as picked up the briefcase. He began to walk away, but then remembered one last detail. Turning back toward the body, he reached into the jacket pocket of the dead man, and pulled out a cell phone. He pressed one button on the phone, and the phone redialed the last person Frederick had called.

"Is it done?"

The voice on the other end was masked behind some sort of masking device, however it didn't cover up the coldness in the speaker's tone.

"Yes, it's done."

"Atta boy, did you leave him at the spot?"

"Leave him? That's where the magic happened."

"Very well, get out of there now. I'll send someone to clean it up.

"Roger that."

"Also, never say that again."

The person on the other end disconnected the call, Luca placed the looted phone in his pocket and walked away from the crime scene, knowing his work there was done.