A/N: This one is a little short. I'm sorry, guys!

His phone beeped halfway through the nap.

Annoyed, desperate to just get some bloody rest, Niko reached over and lifted the phone from the coffee table next to him. One unread text, sent from an unknown number. For half a second, he almost contemplated not reading it. Maybe it was from Dimitri's men, or maybe it was from that "Sam" person from an hour before. Either way, they were disturbing his sleep, and he did not appreciate it. All he had wanted was a nap and the chance to forget the awful things that had occurred that day.

But… But, his mind argued, if it was from Sam, then perhaps he had new information for him. Perhaps whatever Sam had to say held the opportunity to actually bring Dimitri down. If that was the case, then it was his nap that could wait. After all, Dimitri would not wait for Niko; if anything, he would attack quickly, should he discover the Serb napping on the job.

With a groan of protest, Niko rolled over, sitting up, and read over the words.

Hey, Neeks.

Oh, great. It was the little snooper.

Good news. Super good news. Shipment's definitely going to arrive soon, so you won't have to wait long to take a leg out from under Dimitri. So, yay! :) Bad news? Well, okay, so the shipment's getting in early… Super early, actually. ...Like it arrived ten minutes ago early. Sooooo, um… You might want to get that fine ass of yours up and get to the docks as soon as you can. And don't forget to grab my dinner!

At that, Niko only had one thing to say: "God, he texts like a nineteen year old girl."

He was closing his eyes again, succumbing to sleep in the same way he did when it was too early in the morning, when what the text said clicked in his mind. Sputtering in his haste, the Serb threw off his blankets and scrambled off the pull-out couch he called his bed, reaching for his guns. He would need something more than just a pistol for this job, especially if there was as much coke there as Sam had said. Something semi-automatic; perhaps the Carbine rifle. They had been together through so much, him and that gun. It would serve him well now, as he took down Dimitri.

His phone beeped again. Niko ignored it, and instead hurried out of the apartment and down the stairs. There was another beep, then one followed by two more in quick succession. He barely had time to exit the building and slide into Roman's cab before his phone began to sing.

"What?"

"Oh, thank God." Sam's voice came through the other end of the speaker, loud and clear. He sounded relieved, and almost out of breath. "I have been trying to get in contact with you for the past five minutes. I thought you were in the bathroom or passed out drunk somewhere or…"

"No, no." Niko tried not to sound as out of breath as he felt. He put the key in the ignition, cranking up the car. "I don't drink alone. I was just… in a rush. Thank you for the warning, by the way, gave me plenty of time."

One could practically taste the sarcasm dripping off his words.

Sam huffed, annoyed. "I'm sorry. Did you want to look into the fuckin' future to get this information for you at your earliest convenience? Because I could try that next time, if you're going to cry about the tardiness of your information. Serb." This time, he sighed. "Look, I'm doing what I can, okay? It's not my fault if they try to fuck us over."

Niko sighed, heavily. "Apologies. I am just… frustrated. I will call you when the job's done, alright? Or… you call me, if you're watching. Whoever gets to the phone first."

"I'll call you. And I'll try to help, when I can." He heard a soft beeping noise, and then Sam laughed. "They put surveillance around the docks. I'm in. Keep the phone nearby; I'll try to text you, if there's anything I can do, or any way I can help. Just keep an eye out, Neeks. He's got a good ten or fifteen man crew there."

"Thank you. I'll handle it."

The line went dead again. With a sigh, he shoved the phone into his pocket.

Niko had noticed, in his years of working these sorts of jobs, that when he expected to have to kill someone, there was this sort of pressure within himself. He wouldn't call it tension, per say - it wasn't necessarily an uncomfortable feeling. On the contrary, it almost felt nice. It made his heart pump faster, his nerves tingle in excitement. Maybe the reason he was so good at what he did was that he secretly enjoyed it; or at least, a part of him did. His body did. His mind, however, always lingered on the ramifications afterwards, and on what his body's enjoyment of it suggested about who and what he was.

Niko parked Roman's cab a few blocks from the docks, knowing he'd attract a lot less attention if he went the rest of the way on foot. He adjusted the guns hidden in his coat, making sure they were secure and did not make any noticeable lumps. Once he was sure he appeared to be just another Average Joe, Niko began to walk, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring straight ahead as casually as possible, as if he wasn't about to shoot up a boat. He could not attract any attention this time; during his last mission, he had been forced to escape the police to protect Jacob, instead of going after Dimitri like he had wanted.

This time, nothing was going to stop him. He would destroy every card in Dimitri's hand, until the Russian was left with nothing but his back against the wall. It would take time; he knew that much. But all good things came to those who wait, and Niko was willing to wait as long as it took to get his revenge.