Michael walked through the front door of his mother's house, the file Seymour had given him in hand, Fiona right behind him. They had barely spoken in the car, each dwelling on their own thoughts of that day six years ago. He squashed the memory down. He did not want to think about it. She chose not to turn up. It had been her choice.

"Hey Mike, you're back. What took so lo…" Sam stopped mid sentence as he got a good look at Michael. "Can't you go anywhere without picking a fight?"

"I didn't start this one," grumbled Michael.

"You never do. Who was it this time?" smiled Sam drinking his beer.

"I don't know."

"Johnny Benitez," said Fiona, taking a seat at the table next to Nate.

"What? Johnny B.? Bro, tell me you didn't?" sighed Nate.

"You know him?" asked Michael.

"Kinda," shrugged Nate. "It's been awhile since we crossed paths."

"Yeah? Well, he's not happy with you. Something about stealing his jobs?"

"No, I just gave a better price," smirked Nate. "Johnny has got no head for business."

Michael sighed at what his brother was saying. He'd made an enemy purely by undercutting the nearest bidder every time. That's good if you're trading stocks, not if you're trading guns. People had a tendency to end up dead if you were too obvious about it.

"Don't give me that look," snapped Nate.

"What look?" asked Michael, confused.

"That look. The 'you've screwed up again' look."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh no, Michael, I see it too," added Fiona.

"Children, can we play nice and look at the information Seymour gave us?" said Sam as he tried to diffuse the already volatile situation. He'd never seen Michael and Nate act like this towards each other. Such hostility.

"You know what, Michael? I can handle this," said Nate, ignoring Sam.

"We've been through this. You're in over your head."

"Says you. I've been doing just fine on my own."

"Nate, would you listen to yourself?" snapped Michael. "You've got two days left to collect everything and deliver. You can't do this alone."

"Well, I don't need your help. This isn't middle school," shouted Nate.

"Glad you noticed," Michael huffed.

Nate stood up, pushing his chair back with such force that it toppled over. "We were doing just fine before you came back."

"Good. As soon as this is over I'm gone. You can go back to your life," Michael said his own voice raising.

"Sounds good," Nate spat.

"Good, now all you have to do is live through this job and you'll be fine. Which isn't going to happen if I leave."

"You arrogant bastard," shouted Nate getting up in his brother's face. "You think we can't cope without you. That we'd just fall apart? You are so wrong!"

"Am I? Look what's happened."

Michael saw Nate's fist coming but was powerless to do anything, he was too close. Before he could get his hands up to block he felt the sharp pain at his temple. His head snapped back hitting the wall behind him.

Sam was already rushing forward to pull Nate back as the first punch was thrown. He got there too late, wincing at the sound of Michael's head smacking against the wall. Holding Nate back so he couldn't hit Michael again, he watched as Michael collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

Sighing, he walked Nate back to the table, sitting him down next to Fiona again before going back to check on Michael. Rolling him onto his side, he checked that he was breathing and his pulse was steady. With that confirmed he grabbed the brown envelope from the floor which Michael had dropped and threw it at Nate.

"Go through the information, add it to what we've already got. Explain the details to Fi," he said as he walked past to retrieve the med kit again. He might as well patch up Michael's new wounds while he was unconscious. There would be no complaining this time.

-BN-

Jason Bly watched as Calitri's guards dragged out a man to the middle of the steel yard. The man was bleeding from several places. His right wrist looked to be broken and possibly his jaw too by the amount of bruises and swelling that was showing. Bly was surprised he was still breathing. Calitri's men had worked him over all through the night.

As the first rays of the morning sun burst through the sky the man was shoved to the ground, whimpering. With one hand he pushed himself up to his knees, looking to the doors where he had just been brought out of. Calitri came walking outside loading a clip into his handgun.

Bly thought it was overly dramatic to be doing that in front of the guy who was so scared already he was probably about to wet his pants. But he didn't say anything. There was no point. The man was going to get shot either way. It all depended on what the guy said to where the bullet went.

"You've disappointed me, Eddie," said Calitri, still looking at his gun.

"I...I'm sorry Mr Calitri," stuttered the man. Bly sighed, that was not a good start. He just confirmed he did something wrong.

"Sorry doesn't cut it," snapped Calitri, looking down at the man for the first time. "I told you to do a job and you failed. I do not like failures."

"I didn't..."

"Do you know what I do to failures?" interrupted Calitri.

"Please Mr Calitri, I have a family. A wife, a..."

Bly shook his head, he could see the tears rolling down the man's face, mingling with his own blood. It was no use appealing to Calitri's better nature. He didn't have one.

"Yes, two little girls. I know," smiled Calitri. "They really are a beauty."

Bly looked up in surprise. He wouldn't have, would he?

Calitri signalled to one of his men who went back inside the factory, coming back shortly after dragging a screaming woman and two other men carrying two crying children. The men threw the woman and both girls to the floor where they huddled together on the ground.

"Shit," Bly muttered to himself. He stood up straighter his hand going towards his own gun. He could not stand by and watch Calitri kill those kids. The man he didn't care about, he was just another scumbag.

"What did I promise you, Eddie?" asked Calitri.

"Mr. Calitri, please. They have done nothing wrong," begged the man on the ground, the tears running in rivers down his cheeks.

"I am a man of my word, Eddie," Calitri snarled.

Before Bly could do anything Calitri had spun round and shot the woman. Her screams died before she hit the ground, blood spraying the children. The high pitched screams from the little girls was near deafening. Bly bowed his head, that woman did not deserve to die because her husband worked for a psychopath.

"NO!" yelled the man. He was on his feet faster than Bly thought possible, rushing towards Calitri. But Calitri heard him coming. He spun round and shot the man in the knee. Eddie crumpled to the ground, his yells turning to screams.

Calitri stood over him, aiming the gun at his other leg. "The cops found out, Eddie. How did that happen?"

"I...I...I don't know," gasped Eddie. Calitri shot the man in the other knee, blood spraying Calitri's shoes. If Calitri noticed, it didn't show.

"You were the only one who knew."

"No, I..." His words turned to screams as Calitri shot out one of his shoulder joints. Bly couldn't believe it. He was here to get information on Calitri for his superiors, but right now all he wanted to do was shoot him. He needed to stop this; he did not want to witness those kids being shot just like their mother. Bly walked forward slowly as he didn't want to startle Calitri and get himself shot in the process.

"I know you did. My sources do not lie. Not to me. Nobody lies to me. Yet here you are, lying."

"Calitri..." said Bly, trying to get his attention.

Calitri ignored him. Instead, turning, he shot one of the girls. The man was shouting again wordlessly. The remaining girl's screams were mixed with her sobs. Her white dress was stained red from her sister's and mother's blood.

Bly growled low in his throat. "Calitri, don't do this," he warned taking out his own gun.

"Nobody lies to me," growled Calitri as he shot the last little girl. The yard was now eerily silent. Bly wasn't even sure if he himself was breathing, but he had his gun pointed at Calitri. He should shoot him. Damn his superiors, he shouldn't have to make these kind of decisions. So what if the information he got while in the employ of Calitri brought down a bigger crime syndicate? Those girls did not deserve to die.

Calitri looked at him, his eyes cold and distant. No emotion. Bly bowed his head. He couldn't change today, and he couldn't bring back those girls. Holstering his gun, he stared back at Calitri. He vowed to himself, if it was the last thing he did, he'd see Calitri dead.

"Goodbye, Eddie," said Calitri, no emotion in his voice. He shot the man in the chest, but it wasn't a kill shot. The man was lying on his back, gasping for air. His back bowing, his hands clawing at the ground. Bly could hear the man gurgling as his blood bubbled up his throat. The minutes seemed to last hours as the man tried to gasp for air, staring straight into Calitri's face, until finally he died.

Calitri looked up at his men. "Get this shit off my land," he ordered. Turning away from the four dead bodies he'd just created, he walked over to Bly. His gun coming up and connecting with Bly's jaw.

"You disagree with my methods?"

Bly could taste blood in his mouth where his teeth had cut his gums. Spitting out the blood, he looked back up at Calitri locking eyes with him. He would not show how rattled he was. He would not show how much he wanted to pull out his gun and shoot him right where he stood. It would be so easy. Calitri would be dead before he hit the ground. Before his men could fire a shot in return. But it was against orders and he was here to do a job.

"Whatever gets the job done," he said, spitting out more blood.

Calitri stared at him before he holstered his gun at the small of his back. "I like you, Jason," said Calitri smiling. "You don't disappoint. You found the brother, you brought him here. But I don't hear anything about my guns."

The change in topic was almost too quick for Bly but he smiled in return.

"If I know Michael, nobody will hear anything until those weapons are in the container."

"I don't like that. I want to know what's going on." Calitri got up close to Bly, the smile gone. "I want you to keep an eye on Nate Westen. Make sure he doesn't try running."

"And if he does?"

"Stop him. No killing, I get that pleasure. Him and his brother. Just make sure the brother gets me those guns," Calitri ordered before walking back inside, ignoring the bodies littering the ground like it was normal. Which for him, it was.

-BN—