"Do you understand this is going to be extremely extensive, intensive, and possibly fatal, correct?"
"I do."
"Do you pledge to never reveal your actual alliances?"
"I do."
"Do you pledge to get any and all information we may find useful?"
"I do."
"Do you pledge to weasel your way in and break up everyone?"
"I do."
"Tom Branson, You're our mole to get rid of the Crawleos."
"Tom Branson, welcome to the Crawleo mob. You've proven your dedication by killing a member of the Maronis. I've just got a few rules.
"One: the oath of silence. You cannot speak to the authorities unless ratting out the other mafias. Two: you cannot speak of our business to non-members. Associates count as members. Your family does not.
"Three: If a member is killed by another member, you cannot commit revenge murder until I have given permission. Four: No fighting among members.
"Four: your tribute. You must pay me monthly, and give me a cut of thirty percent on side deals. Five: adultery is not permitted with the wife of another member. Wives must be treated with respect, as well.
"Six: no facial hair. I don't need to elaborate. Seven: homosexuality is not allowed. I don't think that one needs explanation, either.
"Eight: you must tell the truth to members, my family, and associates. Nine: appointments must be respected. If you don't understand that, ask someone else.
"Ten: you can call members of equal status by their first names, but anyone above you must be called by their appropriate title, including associates. For example, you would call me Lord Crawleo. Do you agree to abide by these rules?"
"Yes, Lord Crawleo."
"Congratulations. Oh, and stay away from my daughters." A shot rang through the air, followed by a grunt from the lower member.
Tom grasped his right shoulder and pulled out the dart, which was about fifteen centimeters long and one centimeter in diameter.
"It's your marker. Every member has one. A small hole that won't close up in their shoulder. You're dismissed now."
Tom walked out of the office and ripped the sleeve of his t-shirt off, inspecting his new scar. He chuckled. A welcome to the Crawleos, alright.
