Drumming her fingers against the hardwood desk she currently called base, Kristina was not very pleased with the current findings Olek offered her.

"Szef, our source says Emil is only a few months away from HIS expansion plans. If we don't kick start this transition, we'll lose the entire east coast to the son of a bitch!" Olek banged his hand down on the desk, rattling the vase of orchids on the table, earning a glare from the diminutive form in front of him.

"You don't think I know that already, Olek? You really think I haven't been monitoring the situation just as closely as you have?" Angrily pushing back from her desk, she strode over to the window overlooking industrial Warsaw. "You should know better than anyone that I've already been working out the details. Emil won't even be setting his feet on the other side of the Atlantic unless I'm mailing his dead body to his bitch of a great aunt." Turning to her associate, Kristina placed a conspiratory hand upon Olek's shoulder, squeezing tightly.

Sharing a knowing glance with his boss, Olek sighed and relented to Kristina's gaze. "Krystynka, you know I trust you implicitly. But you know as well as I do that Emil's been stepping up his game. He's been pushing for even more interceptions of our shipments, and using more and more of our soldiers as target practice for his men."

Sighing, Kristina leaned back upon the desk, clenching the wooden edges in her fists. Hanging her head slightly, Kristina looked so much older than her meager twenty four years. Her haunted eyes seemed to gaze right through Olek, as though remembering each of her soldiers that lost their life to her rival, Emil Szumna. Every time Kristina was forced to write to the desperate family members to inform them of their loved one's demise, she cursed Emil to a lower ring of hell. Though she understood that her business sometimes had to result in blood being shed, it didn't mean that a loss of a soldier was never felt. While Emil was a nasty, combative man, Kristina gave as good as she got. For every shipment she lost, a warehouse or transport ships of Emil's was blown to pieces. For every man taken from her, two of Emil's shared his fate. How this war had managed to be kept below a majority of the public's radar was only due to the generous donations Kristina and Emil both paid to the commissioners and journalists of Poland's capital city.

"You're right, as usual, Olekus," she muttered.

"Of course, boss dearest! I never understand why you doubt me!" Olek laughed, quickly reverting to his typical playful self.

"Olek, pay attention!" Kristina snapped, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yes, yes, my apologies szef. Where were we?"

"I was about to tell you that I'm pushing our transfer day forward." Kristina leveled her gaze with his, before striding behind her desk to pick up her black pocket calendar.

"When exactly are you thinking? I thought we were still talking the 18th of April," Olek asked, confusion marring his voice.

"Well, you said Emil is moving fast. So we have to move faster."

"I'm game. New date?"

"January 17th. I trust it won't be a problem?" Glancing back up at Olek, Kristina began to scribble a few notes in the margin of her little book.

"Shit. So soon? That gives us what, three weeks to do three months of work?" Olek tiredly held his hand to his head, running his fingers over his buzz cut hair.

Smirking up at her enforcer, Kristina sat down and leaned back in her large leather chair. "Olek, Olek, Olek. I have complete faith in you. Plus, it might help that I'll be paying you quite handsomely for the rush." A smile graced her features, as Olek instantly perked up at the mention of a bonus. She could already see the wheels in his head turning as he began computing how many months of gambling he'd be able to squeeze out of the paycheck that would be coming.

"Well, now that you mention it….. three weeks should be plenty of time, szef. I'll get Florian and the boys right on it." Walking over to Kristina's side, he squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Don't fret, Krystynka. We'll blow Emil's operations right out of the water. Our plan's been brewing for over a year; Emil's been at it what, four months?" Chuckling to himself, Olek squatted down and stared into his boss's hardened eyes. "We've. Got. This. Don't trouble yourself to greatly, okay?"

Kissing her forehead tenderly, Olek made his way to the door, throwing a smile over his shoulder. "Oh, Krystynka, you still haven't mentioned where we're going to be putting our transitional headquarters when we finally get over there!" As he leant against the doorframe, Olek made a show of brainstorming some ideas.

"How about Malibu? I've heard great things from Konrad about the women that grace the shores. Or maybe Cape Cod? The Jersey Shoreline?" A low laugh emanated from the hulking man and he reached for the door.

"Funny, as usual, Olek," Kristina sarcastically spat out, rolling her eyes at his antics. "You know that New York is the first main target. And for that, I know the perfect place where mob activity is the societal norm, the perfect place to launch temporary operations."

"Oh?" Olek asked amusedly. "Do tell."

Folding her hands upon the desk, Kristina spoke confidently. "Port Charles."

Hope you guys have liked the introduction to my story! I've been hooked on General Hospital lately, and the idea of a mob-boss Kristina kept playing over and over in my mind!

For reference, I'll be posting anything I write in Polish in English at the end of every chapter, although I won't be using extremely large chunks of Polish text.

Szef - boss

Krystynka - nickname version of Krystyna, the Polish version of Kristina's name.

Reviews and constructive criticism are readily encouraged!