The next evening, a car rolled through the streets toward the Bronx.
Donnie was driving. He tried to crack the window to let the cigarette smoke drift out, but Lefty immediately snapped, "Are you trying to freeze me to death? Roll it up."
Donnie silently closed the window again. "So where are we headed? Another card game?"
"No. Got a job tonight. Someone asked for help."
"What kind of job?" Donnie asked, intrigued.
"Sonny Black invited me."
Lefty didn't actually know the specifics. "In our line of work, when someone calls, you go. You follow orders and do the job. You work for someone, you risk your life for someone—you don't refuse. Even if it means getting shot. And most of the time, the one pulling the trigger is your best friend."
That last situation usually meant a formal family execution—reserved for those who broke the rules or damaged family interests.
In the Mafia, executions came without warning. A man might be given an assignment, told to meet somewhere—and only realize too late it was his burial site. The cruelest part? The shooter was usually his closest friend. One distracted moment, and a bullet would tear through the back of his head.
"I've always told you—keep your head down, follow the rules, earn your money the right way," Lefty said earnestly. "If you don't cause trouble, you won't have to worry about your best friend putting a bullet in you."
Donnie thought Lefty was a little naive—too straightforward. He'd followed the rules his entire life, stayed loyal to the family, and still ended up just a soldier.
"I understand," Donnie replied.
---
The Bronx at night was quiet, broken only by distant sirens and occasional gunshots.
Five men gathered in Little Italy before heading toward an apartment building: Luca, Jimmy, Lefty, Donnie, and Sonny Black.
There were simply too many drug dens in New York. Luca and Leon had dismantled a number of them before, but new ones sprang up just as quickly.
Tonight's target was a French crew's hideout—a distribution point tied to Frank.
They had gone too far.
They'd taken Blue Magic—a high-purity product—and diluted it down to only a few percent, then continued selling it under the Blue Magic name.
A blatant infringement on Frank's "product."
Donnie knew none of this. As a newcomer, he wasn't given operational details. The Mafia was cautious—even paranoid—about that.
He glanced around. He saw Jimmy and Sonny Black—but no Dove.
Wasn't Luca involved?
"Follow me," Jimmy ordered.
Just as Donnie reached for the door handle, Jimmy pressed a hand against his chest.
"You stay outside. Keep watch."
Donnie: "???"
Are you kidding me? Let me participate at least a little! How am I supposed to collect evidence if I don't even go inside?
"I can help," he insisted.
Jimmy shook his head. "You got a problem with that? You're not better than anyone else here."
Donnie: "…"
Lefty and Sonny Black were also surprised by the arrangement.
"Donnie, stay outside," Lefty advised gently. "We'll handle it."
Sonny shoved him lightly. "Get back in the car and don't screw this up."
Donnie sighed. "Fine. I'll stay out here. Be careful."
Inside the apartment, Sonny and Lefty found Luca already there, along with three terrified gang members crouched in a corner with their hands over their heads.
Luca had a gun trained on them.
He glanced up as the others entered, pointed at stacks of brick-shaped drug packages and piles of cash on the table, and said calmly:
"Take everything."
Lefty and Sonny froze for a second.
That much?
It felt like they'd just walked into free money.
"Dove! I regret not baptizing you back then!" Lefty exclaimed excitedly as he grabbed a bag and began stuffing it with product. "When I have a grandson, I want him to call you godfather!"
You'll be lucky to see that grandson while running around like this, Luca thought.
He watched the three men packing the loot, occasionally barking at the captured dealers to keep their heads down.
The money and drugs vanished quickly into bags.
Despite the stacks of bills, most were in twenties and tens—street-level cash. Very few hundreds. Addicts rarely paid in big bills.
As they prepared to leave, Luca stopped Lefty and Sonny Black. He pointed at the three men in the corner.
"Kill them."
Jimmy had already shifted quietly toward the door, blocking the exit.
Lefty and Sonny immediately understood: if those three didn't die, neither would they walk out standing.
The mood in the room turned ice cold.
One of the gang members screamed, "You took our stuff! What else do you want? Let us go!"
"Shut up."
Bang.
One dropped.
The gunshot made Lefty flinch slightly.
Luca turned toward him and placed a gun in his hand.
"Lefty, my dad used to say you were a sharpshooter. Said every bullet you fired found its mark. Were you really that good?"
Lefty hesitated. "Dove… I haven't killed anyone in years."
"These French dealers don't deserve Sicilian sympathy," Luca said evenly. "Don't forget—italian people were slaughtered by the French years ago."
Lefty fell silent. He knew this wasn't about centuries-old grudges. Luca wanted them deeper in.
At least Donnie wasn't inside. The kid was still green.
Lefty closed his eyes briefly—then opened them.
"Guess I'll test your gun."
He raised it and fired.
Sonny finished the rest.
A long-dormant bloodlust stirred within the old man.
When it was done, Lefty handed the gun back. "Feels like the old days—running jobs with your father. I wasn't much older than you back then."
Luca patted his arm. "Your aim is just like my dad said."
Lefty chuckled sheepishly. "Back then, I was the family's number one hitter."
[Bond: Friends]
Bodies littered the floor.
Luca picked up a bag of drugs and tossed it into Sonny Black's arms. "This is yours."
Sonny grinned. "Dove, that's generous."
"You did good work."
[Bond: Familiar]
__________________________________________________________________________
Ding! You and your associates eliminated three notorious drug dealers, protecting community peace.
[Gain Skill Points +5]
[Gain Skill Fragment +1]
[Remaining Skill Fragments: 40]
__________________________________________________________________________
Dividing the spoils went smoothly.
Final count: over $200,000 in cash and roughly ten to twenty kilograms of drugs—though low-grade. Blue Magic had been diluted heavily; little high-purity product remained.
Luca and Jimmy took the cash. Sonny Black's crew took the drugs. Even if New York was tough to sell in, the Bonanno distribution network could move product elsewhere.
"Let's go," Luca said.
He and Jimmy took the money and left via another route.
Lefty and Sonny Black returned the way they came, picked up Donnie, and disappeared into the night.
From a hidden rooftop, Leon lowered his sniper rifle.
---
Back in Brooklyn, the three men carried the haul into their self-built home and went straight to the basement.
"Dove's efficient," Lefty said, staring at the loot. "No complications. Felt like picking up free money."
"Free?" Sonny snorted. "He took all the cash! Didn't leave us a dollar. We still have to move this product ourselves."
"There's money in product," Lefty shrugged. "Drugs always sell."
Sonny smiled slowly. Goods mean profit.
Donnie stood to the side, confused.
You went in… and came out with drugs? That's it?
He felt frustrated—his participation had been nonexistent.
As they emptied the bags, Donnie spotted a yellow file folder inside one.
"What's this?"
Lefty glanced over. "Probably something I scooped up off the table. Thought it was cash."
Donnie opened it.
It wasn't money.
It was a thick, detailed intelligence report—everything about Frank's operation. Distribution routes, major contacts, transportation channels—even personal details.
Donnie's heart skipped.
What the hell?
This was gold.
With this, the FBI could dismantle Frank's entire empire.
His reaction drew attention.
Sonny grabbed the folder. As he skimmed it, his expression shifted to shock.
Blue Magic… was Frank's?
Sonny's first instinct wasn't federal authorities—it was the family.
With this intelligence, they could strike Frank's pipeline and reclaim lost market share.
In a war, this would be decisive leverage.
Lefty peered over his shoulder. "Frank's got a supermodel girlfriend? And a manor? Guy lives well."
"Are you serious?" Sonny snapped. "The routes are mapped out perfectly. We can hit any shipment we want! Right now Frank's like a naked woman in front of us—we know every secret."
Lefty frowned. "Who knows if it's accurate?"
"We test it," Sonny said calmly.
Donnie asked, "Where did you even find this?"
"From those French dealers," Lefty shrugged. "Didn't know what it was. Thought it was stuffed with cash."
"French?"
"Yeah. French crew."
Sonny pointed. "Some of this is in French. I can't read it."
"Let me see," Donnie said quickly, taking it back.
He scanned and memorized as much as he could. Not everything—but enough.
He'd need another opportunity to photograph it.
This intelligence had to be passed on.
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