"We're going after Heiman first, right?" asked Luca as both he and Maria loaded themselves into the Midnight Black SUV that she had rode over to his apartment; Maria in the front seat and Luca in the back, behind the driver's seat where a scrawny Colombian with a spiked mohawk sat, clutching the wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Eyeing a rifle that was left on the seat next to his, Luca takes his attention off the people in front of him and grabs it, laying it across his lap. Maria sighs and pats the driver on the arm, which awakens him from his eyes wide open nap. Shaking his head, he starts the engine and pulls out of the parking spot and begins his drive away from Luca's place of residence and towards their (not really) HQ.

"Oh, so you're calling the shots now?"

"Hey, just askin' a question here. No need to go all PMS on me."

"What's your fuckin' fascination with Heiman anyway? You weren't exactly the most helpful last time."

"Yeah well, things change."

A brief silence erupts after the last comment, as Luca rests his head on his hand, his bent elbow propped up on the windowsill of the car. The gun on his lap bounces up and down as the car does much of the same on the shoddy LA roads. Maria's fingers drum along the dashboard, as the driver makes a sharp left turn.

"Yeah, I guess they do..."

With each bump the car hit, the glass in Luca's stomach burrowed deeper into him, forcing him to wince.

"So, whatdya expect's going to happen when you go after the Shadows, huh? I hope you got a whole fuckin' army on board."

"Are you dense? You think we're going to go to war with them?"

"What else are you going to do; write a fuckin' letter?"

"You see Lance? That attitude right there is why the Guidos lost their control."

"Hey, if the fuckin' mobs were to roll over and die I would be there pissin' on their graves."

"Yet here you are preaching their gospel."

"Old habits die hard."

"Yeah, I guess they do..."

---

---

---

The sun was already beginning to set before Lance pulled the car over off the side of some dirt road in the Mojave Desert. The shithead druggie currently bleeding in the backseat leans over and before finally pushing the rifle off his lap, he grabs at the bottom of his shirt, probably where his glass wounds were. The gun lands on the floor with a thud. At least he was wearing red, that way I didn't have to explain why he was already bleeding to Lance but I think he'll figure out something's wrong with this situation pretty soon. Lance cuts the engine, takes off his seatbelt and pushes open the driver's side door, cracking his back before getting out. I follow his actions, but before I shut my door I call over to him: "Get out."

"What for?"

"It's important."

Shaking his head, he pushes himself up and stumbles out of the car. One look up at the setting sun was enough to make him recoil; I doubt he's seen the sun in days, weeks maybe and now it was playing out in our favor. I just wish the motherfucker who was supposed to be meeting us here would show his face already. Oh well, no matter. Just a complication, nothing to be worried about. Luca, looking down at the ground stumbles a few more feet.

"What's so fucking important that we need to be out in the middle of fuckin' nowhere, huh?"

"You'll see."

I really should stop being so vague; it could very well spook him and the last thing I want is him to actually be on guard. Wait, he's likely unarmed; I didn't check him but in the state he was/is in, the last thing on his mind before leaving his place was to arm himself. For God's sake, where was our contact? He should be here by now.

"Hey bitch, how bout you give me a straight answer for a change?"

"How about I come over there and smack the shit out of you?"

"Depends; you gonna spit in my mouth and call me worthless too?"

"Lance?"

Lance's ears perk up at the mention of his name, like a good henchman's should. I raise two fingers in the air and nod at him; the signal. Wherever the contact was, he could scrape Luca's corpse off the fucking ground, I'm done waiting. Lance pulls a gun from his waistband and grabs the target by his shoulder, spinning him around. However, he faces a surprise that neither of us could've expected: Luca's hand wrapped around a gun, which he wastes no time in pressing against Lance's head.

Talk about a standoff.

"What the fuck's this, huh?" he asks, shoving the gun's barrel into Lance's skull. Lance shoves his into Luca's stomach, which unbeknownst to him houses glass. It doesn't seem to be bothering him too much, though. I don't even think: I just start yelling for Lance to shoot him but he doesn't.

"Yeah come on you piece of shit, shoot me. It'll be the last thing you fuckin' do."

"Come on man, just calm down-"

"You want me to calm down? You? I'm the one being double crossed here and you want me to calm down? How's this for fuckin' calm?!"

Luca pulls the trigger and most of Lance's head flies off his body, splattering against the dirt. Smoke bellows out of the gun as Luca digs his feet into the ground and spins around on his heels, now aiming the gun at me. Somehow, I knew it'd come down to this. Now, all I have to do is keep him talking. Lucky for me, he loved to talk. Loved, because in a few moments, he'll be dead for real. No more half measures.

"You bitch. What the fuck did you think you'd accomplish?"

"You know, I'd like to know what you think was supposed to happen."

"I don't know."

He steps closer to me, gritting his teeth to keep from wincing and doubling over form the pain in his stomach. I take a deep breath and dive for the backseat of the car, throwing the door open and leaping inside. My hands paw at the mat on the bottom of the car, feeling around for the rifle while in front of me I hear his footsteps draw nearer. Finally, I grab it and pull it up, pressing the butt against my shoulder and pointing the barrel to the window. This also being the first I myself looked up since getting in: my vision was limited to one thing.

Luca.

"And I don't fucking care."

Bang!

"Well well Lazarus-"

"Long time, no see."