After they had stayed in Frank's apartment they set out towards a black market where a certain Marvin Mahoney was running his base of operations. They decided to take the train after their little escapade last night.

It was quarter past ten when they reached the place. Joey still remembered the old place years ago. Back then it was just like a regular market except rather than buying fruits and vegetables you bought guns.

Now, it didn't look anything like what it was before. For starters the market was held underground for obvious reasons but now it had turned into a giant clubhouse. They walked inside; the place had a stack of chairs lined up in rows, all facing the front where the floor was elevated. There was a table in the center, like the one where people stood to speak.

"That's where the real shit goes down," Frank informed him, pointing to the stage. "The guns here get auctioned to the highest bidder."

Frank motioned him towards the door on the left. It led to the supply room, which was twice as big as the one they had just left. Piles of crates sat on top of each other bearing nametags; all of them stored dangerous weapons.

Frank went ahead while Joey browsed through. He saw a chubby guy wearing suspenders and a white shirt talking in his cell phone. Frank recognized him at once.

"Yes, Mr. Torrence. The guns will be delivered to you first thing in the morning, er, I mean, later in the evening... I-I, uh, no-no, I-I said it'll be there in an hour. Alright, a pleasure doing business wi-."

The caller hung up, and it left an unsavory distastefulness in the man's expression. It took only a moment thought to notice Frank coming up to him, then his eyes fixed at Joey.

"Mr. Mahoney, me and my friend want to offer our services to you. In return, we want you to help us contact Mr. LaSalle so—"

Marvin waved a finger at him and started dialing in his phone.

"Stay right there."

He moved a few steps away and had his back facing them. He talked in a slightly quieter voice that was barely heard. Frank tried to listen in on the conversation without moving closer.

"... yeah, it's true...I ain't kidding...no, I ain't smoking weed... what do we do... what, but why—... ... okay."

He clicked his phone and tucked it in his pocket.

"Okay, so you say that you boys are going to work for me. And in return you want to meet with LaSalle. And that means I'm not gonna pay you or anything, right? ... alright, you got a deal."

He glanced at Frank, who looked surprised that he had already agreed without even so much as a preference, and then at Joey who was still not paying attention to them, he was now browsing the crates filled with explosives; he cast them both with doubtful looks but continued on.

"I've got a job for you, it's not high risk, I'll save that for later. You have to go to this bar. The owner hasn't been paying his 'protection money' for a while now. I want you to go straighten him up; he's at Salem's lot. If you got any problems, here's my number."

Frank nodded and walked back to the door, calling Joey to get a move on.

"Shit. There must be millions worth of guns in here." he said as he followed Frank back outside.

Once they had gotten out, Frank began trekking once more to the train station but Joey went the opposite direction.

"Hey, can we stop by an old friend of mine? He's just down this block." Joey told him.

Frank made to protest but it didn't look like it was going to do any good. They stopped at a place called Liquor Haven. Joey went in while Frank informed him that he was going to look for a payphone to call someone.

The place was empty except for Deke who was behind the bar. At first Joey couldn't believe that the bar was falling apart but then remembered that it was only morning. He sat in one of the stools closest to Deke who was cleaning the bottles behind him and didn't notice Joey.

"Hey, Dicky boy. The usual."

"Heh, no one's ever called me by that name for a long time." he turned around to face the wise guy who was fooling with him. "The only guy who did that—"

"—is standing right in front of you." Joey finished his sentence for him.

Deke dropped the bottle he was cleaning and turned pale white.

"Oh, God! It's finally happened. All those years of taking those pills and nuthin' has finally gotten to me. I'm seeing dead people now."

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm not dead." Joey said trying to sound angry but, in fact, was trying hard not to laugh.

Deke looked to be unconvinced, then suddenly burst out a mixture of anxiety and joy on his wrinkled gray face. His stony expression became a look of desperation. He thrust his hands on Joey's shoulders, which almost made him stumble off the chair.

"Oh my God. It's really you. You don't know how much this means to me." Deke said, his eyes not straying away from Joey's.

"Calm down. Jeez, you weren't going to let me rest in peace without paying my tab, were y—"

"You can call it off now! You can tell those prickheads to fuck off and leave me alone!"

"What are you talking about, Deke?"

"I'm talking about LaSalle! Ever since you disappeared he started making me pay protection money. But that shit never gave a damn about me! Didn't care that I was getting robbed in broad daylight…

"Now, I can't pay him the money so he decided that he's just gonna demolish my bar. The bar that I've raised for so long! My home, Joey! I can't let him do that!"

His voice was rising as he spoke but quickly turned back to his timid tone.

"But now you're back. A-And you're gonna help me, right? Help me beat those guys, cause you're the kingpin again. Drive that fucking bastard out of your city. Or-Or just cap him right there and then...I-I know this place, you know, Curney's gun shop? You still remember that place right. It's still there Joey, I can take you there. Get all the guns you need. Do-Don't worry, I'll pay for it. I-I still have some money left-no problem, yeah, you-you can take him down right?!"

Joey didn't know what to say. He wasn't greeted like royalty when he came back; people had already forgotten about him. He didn't know where to begin with as he himself was starting out again.

"Deke, I'm sorry. I can't help you." at these words Deke's heart sunk, he let go of Joey. "I'm not the boss in this town anymore. I'm even taking orders from some guy now. Says he wants me to beat up some guy in Salem's lot..."

"Can't you do anything? Just, m-maybe talk to LaSalle, please!" Deke pleaded.

"Even I can't do that."

He stood up his chair.

"But... I'll try to do something. After we get this job done, he said he was going to give us a meeting with LaSalle." he walked out the door. "I'll probably see him tomorrow, you come with me and we'll talk some sense into him. No matter what it takes."

Joey walks out the door as Deke miserably slumps on the table. Desperation was setting in…

They reached Salem's lot at 5 minutes till twelve, searching for the bar but there didn't seem to be any. When they contacted Marvin they realized that it wasn't a liquor bar, like they first thought, but a topless bar. They found it minutes later, in between two abandoned shanties.

Upon entering, an usher came to greet them. Joey asked him if they could see the manager to which he complied. The usher went to the back and soon another man came out. He had a slim, bony face with a thin moustache and hair that parted right in the middle. The man eyed the two suspiciously.

"I haven't seen you guys here before. You from here?" the manager asked.

"Uh, no. We're here about the protection money. You seem to be overdue with your payments." Frank answered, trying to put it as cordial as he could.

"Ah, Mr. Mahoney sent you. I've been meaning to tell him," two men suddenly came out, brandishing submachine guns, wearing the same red jackets and brown pants they had seen so many times before. "That I've decided to go under new management."

He smiled scornfully; the two gun-wielding men stood beside him.

"I'm afraid that you'll have to tell your boss that it's just not working out anymore, and if he's got a problem with that he'll have to talk to Mr. Estrada."

His hand directed them towards the door; neither moved an inch. Joey didn't want to leave; they had to finish this job. It was the only way he'll be able to talk to LaSalle, and be able to help Deke. Then he got an idea.

"Ehrm, my throat, it's kinda dry. Can I get a glass of water?" he asked, breaking the silence.

The manager looked at him with contempt but gave in to his request. He nudged the guy on his right to get the water, the guy didn't want to get it but after a few more ribbings he did what he was told. Joey took the glass and drank its contents. As he did so, the glass broke. He crushed the fragments of glass in his hand and threw the sharp bits in the man's face.

The man screamed in pain while Frank had taken out his semi-automatic but was forced to duck when the other guard started shooting wildly. Both Frank and Joey went for cover, hiding behind one of the couches. Bullets fired in all directions, sending people in a panic and scurrying out the door.

The other guard started to copy his partner's actions despite the fact that blood streamed down in the cuts on his face, his left eye was shut but blood was clearly flowing out of it. Apparently, he'd rather put a bullet through Joey's head than find the nearest doctor.

"Dammit. How come they didn't even give us a gun for this goddam job?" Frank said angrily to no one in particular.

"I'll fix this." Joey took something out of his pocket with his uninjured hand. After removing its clip, he threw it towards the counter; the two guards didn't notice it.

"Shit. Was that—"

An explosion erupted from the counter. The two men were pushed off their feet by the blast, hitting the wall hard. Frank stood up.

"Where's our man?" he said, looking around.

"He must've run off in the back. You track him there. I'll go up front in case that son of a bitch tried to go around." Joey said as Frank headed to the backdoor.

Joey opened the double doors up front but was surprised to see he was surrounded by men twenty feet ahead of him, all aiming their guns at him. Joey jumped back inside as the men fired their Uzis, one of them shot his leg.

"Argh! Damn it!" he screamed, clutching his leg.

He limped towards the bar and tried to search for a first aid kit but there was none. He dropped to the floor and rested against the wall; bullets still coming through the door, their rounds seemed to have been endless.

Joey closed his eyes and craned back his neck. "I can't believe their backup's already here' he thought. 'And me without a gun. Damn it! I gotta do somethin quick" he took a deep breath and suddenly remembered about the machine guns. Reaching for the counter's surface, he pulled himself up. But as he did, he heard a click from behind and felt the cold end of a gun pressed to the back of his head.

Joey heard feet shuffling and guessed there were two more men with him. He tried to think of a way to ambush the man who held him at gunpoint but thought that even if he could, without a gun and his leg in pain he doesn't stand a chance against the other two. He wondered if they caught Frank, thinking that these men entered from the back. His question was answered by another question.

"We saw a guy running past the alley. I think he might 'a came here. Who was that guy?" he asked Joey. There was no response.

"I think you better start talking here or else the next thing that's coming out of your mouth is gonna be hot lead." the man threatened.

"Eeep." Joey responded in a colorless tone.

The man wasn't too pleased with his answer and was ready to pull the trigger when his cell phone rang.

"WHAT THE HE—oh sir... yes, yes, I got him... you're saying don't kill him?... Tony said that, but... yes sir." he clicked off the phone and walked back to Joey, furiously.

"You lucky little prick—"

"Aaaargh!"

The man smacked his gun on the side of Joey's head; he fell on the floor and passed out.

After a while, he awoke to see that they were gone and was all alone. He sat up and rubbed his head.

"Just great. Now I've got one on each side."

He stood up, the pain in his leg still evident. Looking at the clock he saw that it was already past one. He stared at his surroundings, which was a wreck. At least the gunmen were gone he thought.

"JOEY." a voice boomed from behind the backdoor as it opened.

He whirled around to see Frank's familiar face. Frank caught sight of him holding on to the ledge of the counter for support. He took his arm and helped him to the closest sofa.

"Did you get him?" Joey asked as he plopped down the cushions.

"No. I couldn't catch him, the wily little bastard." answered Frank.

"Well, his goons were waiting for me when I came outside." Joey said, trying to inform him of what happened. "I came back inside but one of them shot my leg" –pointing to the bandage– "then some of his men came from the back door and knocked me out."

"Hey, I gotta tell you something," Frank said in an ominous voice. "Those weren't the bar guy's men who shot at you."

Joey cast him an intrusive look.

"Someone ratted us out." Frank continued. "They already found the guy who did it."

"YOU STUPID LITTLE SNITCH!" Mahoney struck his fist in the guy's face; he was tied to a chair with tape over his mouth.

"YOU FUCKING INGRATE! After Mr. LaSalle took care of you and now you give him this shit." he screamed at the man's ear then punched him again, this time the chair had toppled over.

Mahoney took out his gun. "The only thing I hate more than a snitch is a snitch who rats us out." He fired a bullet in the man's arm; he let out muffled screams and broke into tears.

"Yeah, that's it. Cry all you want, you goddam piece of shit!" Mahoney thrust the gun into the man's thighs and the bullet pierced through it. The poor man writhed in his seat helplessly, his cries subdued.

Mahoney pulled off the tape; the man's mouth shook uncontrollably. "What've you got to say for yourself, huh? ANSWER ME!"

He spat out the words in a garbled manner "P-P-l-lease-don't... k-kill me..."

"Too late." he fired bullet after bullet into the man's head. The sobbing and whimpering died out, there was only an eerie silence.

After a brief stillness, Mahoney started to walk out.

"Burn down the bar and dump his body along with it. Since he liked the damned place so much we'll bury him there." he said his last words and then shut the door behind him.