It was a dark and stormy night. Well, actually it was day. And sunny, but that sort of sets an odd mood considering that right now, outside of the Northside bank on 4th street something very sinister was taking place.

In the dimly lit alleyway separating the bank and the little Italian restaurant next door, a cat ran through a puddle chasing a mouse. That's it nothing else going on there, where we really need to focus is the Italian restaurant next door. It looked like an olive garden, not the plantation, the food place. A trellis covered the entry way and shaded customers going in with a variety of strategically placed vines, no doubt marketers have found a way to incorporate subliminal messaging into vine placement by now.

Through the arched doorways sat 27 secluded booths, a lone figure occupying the farthest one, the only one with velvet seats to be exact. In fact if you looked a bit closer you would see a 'Reserved sign' lying somewhere to the side of the table. The man at the table tapped his fingers in a singular rhythm, his grey fingers strumming with the precision of Beethoven. Yes, grey skin, almost like someone had painted him with fresh ashes. No one's quite sure what caused it, but those who had found out weren't around to speak about it.

Without notice the man paused his fingers and with a move like a python slipped a cigarette out of his freshly pressed coat pocket, and an engraved silver lighter from his pants. He placed the stick between his lips and clicked the lighters lid open.

"Hey! You can't smoke in here!" Called a waiter from entrance. He was obviously new, otherwise he would have quit before even breathing in the direction of this man.

"It's a bloody metaphor." The grey man replied igniting the tip of the cigarette and inhaling deep.

"Now, now Pitchner, don't go harassing the employees." A new voice presented itself as a large, tattooed man with a well-trimmed beard. In the red, designer overcoat he kind of looked like Santa Clause, if you were already partially blind and then squinted at him.

The day is Monday. The weekly meeting of minds between Kozmotis Pitchner and Nicholas North. 2 of the four leaders of the biggest organized crime groups in Burgess.

"So, Pitchner, how are you today?" Nicholas asked happily, sitting adjacent to the man in black.

"Let's cut to the chase North. This isn't the time for frivolities. Overland has less than a week, in fact if we decide to cut in..." He pulled up his sleeve and stared at his watch thoughtfully.

"Six hours and thirty-two minutes." North nodded and dropped his elbows onto the table, ignoring the look Pitchner gave him. He'd already gotten the 'table manners' speech too many times for Pitch to waste his breath again.

"Why did he stay at the hospital? Being in a public building like that, it's like he's begging to be murdered." They didn't bother to keep their voices down. The restaurant was closed for the next hour and no employee here was stupid enough to squeal.

"He's dying, he probably can't even think straight anymore. Let's just meet up in an hour and get this over with. Just us two. Too many people would raise suspicion and with that new sheriff in town I don't want to take the risk." If there's one thing everyone who'd met him could agree on it's that Kosmotis Pitchner was nothing if not logical. He was a strategical genius and in six hours he was going to be an even richer strategical genius. The two stood up headed towards the exit. Pitchner took a long drag from his cigarette before tossing it to the floor and stepping on it.

"I'll see you in an hour." North affirmed as the left, Pitch just nodded and tuned his heel to the opposite direction. Neither noticed the wide-eyed waiter leaning against the kitchen wall.

"Jamie!" The man's head snapped up and he looked behind him to see his boss. An aggravated, little man with a constellation of bald spots lining his head.

"I'm not paying ya' to stand around. Now get over here so I's can show ya' what you'll be doing." Jamie gave a shaky nod, his brown hair bobbing and his collar suddenly feeling too tight.

"Of course sir." He really wished his boss could tell him what he'll be doing about those two men. Those men had just sat there and casually discussed a man's murder like he'd discuss a new movie coming out. Who had they said was at the hospital? Some overland guy? Jamie had only been living here a few weeks and hadn't had the time to catch up with all the local gossip, especially with his job hunt taking up all his time. Now that he had the job he couldn't afford to lose it, but that man would die if he didn't do something… He look up at his boss.

"Actually sir, I'm feeling a bit sick. Do you think it'd be better if I just started tomorrow instead?" He held his stomach like it was going to burst and tried to make himself look sick.

"Goddammit. Fine, just be here at noon tomorrow, and you'd better not be contagious or I'll kick your ass three ways from Sunday if I get sick." Jamie nodded frantically, he didn't doubt the man one bit.

"Thanks sir." He tried to croak as he left the kitchen. He had a man to save.


50 miles away at manin moon university...

It was noon and he was on lunch break. Well he liked to call it that, but it was more like a lunch class, everyone who had an hour or two between classes joined up on the front lawn of the university and had basically a giant picnic. Jack especially liked when people just out of the Cuisine classes brought food. It was a fantastic affair and one they had been enjoying for nearly three months since some senior started up the new tradition. Everyone was relaxing and eating, which is why the two men in black standing beside a large oak tree stood out in the crowd. They seemed to be searching for someone and Jack wasn't sure he liked the look he taller one was giving him. They both had slicked back hair, the tall one had ebony hair, the other brown. Jack was only about 5, 5 with shaggy brown hair and matching eyes. He was overall average. So why were they looking at him? He began to walk away, dropping his food into a trash bin as he went. Maybe they weren't looking at him? Even if they were he'd be safe in the school. They had cameras all over campus, no one would be stupid enough to attack someone in a school where the most studied subject is law.

"Eyy where you going Jackie?"

"Umm, I left my bag in the classroom. I'll be right back." Those men were still watching him like a hawk as he moved away. It wasn't until they started moving towards him that he broke out into a sprint. Hopping over the railing that led to the front door he made a mad rush towards the entrance, only to have it swish open in front of him. Two more men stepped out. Jack backed up, only to bump into the previous men. One of them restrained his arms with almost hulk like hands.

"Are you Jack Overland?" The taller on had a rough voice, and some sort of accent, but Jack's mind was too frantic to think of what it was. All he could think about was the answer he was going to give. If he said yes would they take him? If he said no, what would they do? The tall man walked in front of him. Molten emerald examined him from a taut, tanned face.

"Oh he's our bloke, I can see it in his eyes." Pearls gleamed at him from thinned lips. Time seemed to be moving slower for Jack, and with sudden clarity he noticed an almost rabbit like appearance to the man's top front teeth. Though it probably wouldn't be his wisest move to voice that thought now.

"Bag him." The words were spoken so calmly that Jack wasn't sure he had heard him correctly until the other two men jumped forward and threw a burlap sack over his head. They stuffed him in the overly large bag and someone slung him over their shoulder harshly. Jack's heart pounded out of control and the material brushed up against his nose.

"Help! Someone please, help!" He screamed and screamed but when a door popped open Jack knew it was no use. In a last attempt at escape Jack jolted his whole body and tried to throw his weight. Though he was only 123 pounds, the man holding the sack didn't seem to expect the jolt and dropped him. Despite the hard fall Jack was more than ready to get away.

Adrenaline racing Jack struggled out of the bag and pushed up onto his knees. Before he could stand, a foot pressed hard into his back, knocking him down. Their heel ground into his back and Jack groaned.

"Well, well, well mate, that was quite the stunt you just pulled. The boss was right about you." Jack was aware of a sharp pain, and then nothing else.