AN: This chapter and the following will elaborate a bit about the undercover op, but from Nick's point of view. So it will contain some OC elements that will –hopefully- enrich this story a bit and the unknown characters. For those waiting for more Tony and the rest of the team, hang on for the following chapters! Hope you'll enjoy!

Chapter 7: Nick's story – Introduction

Ten years ago…

Nicolas Peruch had never decided anything. He felt dragged into his life, watching someone else control his actions. The only places he actually felt something at all, were the back rooms of shady Chinese restaurants; he spent almost all his nights in them. His losses and triumphs at the poker table effectively blocked out any memories of his past life.

Playing the game he would forget the disappointing looks of his father when he was arrested – again- or his failure to pay the hospital bills –he squandered his lifesavings three months earlier- leaving his old man to die miserable. The funeral was the hardest part and while not entirely sober, he still felt the sting of all the disapproving looks in the church so he traded the graveyard service for another poker game.

With no money to pay his rent, let alone a decent funeral, he decided to take a loan from one of his poker buddies. A memorable funeral and tombstone was all he could do for the memory of the great man that had been his father. Not his best idea so far. His "buddy" wasn't the patient type, two of his "associates" already honored him a visit, encouraging him to pay quickly.

After that his landlady reached her limit and finally kicked him out, demanding his last penny to repair the furniture that broke during their "visit". And quite rightly so, Nicholas told himself. His life was going nowhere fast, actually it already arrived nowhere, it was now quickly turning into 'catastrophic'.

The day after his father funeral he wandered the streets of Baltimore, neglecting the falling rain, not knowing where to go next. His room was probably rented already and he couldn't face his "buddy", the poker table wasn't an option either, not after the showdown at his place earlier this morning. He felt the bruises under his soaked sweatshirt, the cold was actually quite comforting.

Everybody rushed by, carefully avoiding the puddles – and him- probably rushing home to a hot meal and a comforting bed. Just when he thought that his day couldn't get any worse, it naturally did.

The streets were abandoned now and the cold light from the lanterns gave no warmth at all. Suddenly two cars screeched through the street, the first braking suddenly slipping against a parked car in the process. The second car rushed by firing several bullets.

All this happened in a matter of seconds but years later Nicholas could still remember his thoughts which were 'oh shit, oh shit, are they fucking kidding me? Okay whatever...' Without giving it a further thought, he rushed to the first car.

"Everybody okay?", he asked urgently. An older man stepped out of the wreck, bleeding profusely from a head wound looking disorientated. Nicholas heard the second car turn and reacted instinctively pulling the old man down and covering him with his own body.

The noise of the gunshots was overwhelming as they passed by and he heard every hit, in the car and the concrete. He wanted to close his eyes and wish it would be over soon, but he didn't. He focused on the car and just when it passed he lifted the old man up and dragged him to a more sheltered spot; a small alley behind the parked car.

"It's going to be fine, trust me." He said repeatedly to the old man, keeping him aware of the surroundings so he wouldn't pass out.

A few minutes later the familiar sound of numerous police sirens surrounded the streets. The second car was long gone.

"You're bleeding.", were the first words the old man spoke with a coarse voice, simultaneously Nicholas spotted several paramedics on scene which was turning blurrier every minute; though it wasn't raining anymore.

He looked around confused as several hands reached out for him, but he didn't understand why. They needed to help the old man, he was feeling fine, he yelled, but the moment those words left his lips he felt them to be a lie. A tinseling sensation crept up his back and he felt himself sway with fatigue.

"Hold on, kid!" someone yelled while they gently pushed him on a stretcher. He tried to find the old man, but he was gone. Everything was so surreal and Nicholas felt his consciousness gliding away.

"Stay with us!", was the last thing he heard before he finally gave in to the comforting darkness.

The following weeks…

Those memories felts as surreal as that disastrous evening. He woke up in the hospital four days later with at least three doctors attending his every need and two gunshot wounds in his back. Apparently he saved a very rich old man, it was only later that he found out the old man was in fact Vincenzo DeMarco, the infamous and most successful mob boss of the city and it surroundings. All this was the result of the fact he never got caught.

The very day he woke up, the man payed him a visit, thanking him numerous times and promising to make it up to him. He asked Nicholas several question about his career, family and so on and they spent the next two hours talking until one of the doctors interrupted for which he was glad, because black spots were entering his vision.

The next day the man returned offering him a place to stay the moment the doctors considered him fit enough. He also stated that the debt was taking care of and Nicholas was lucid enough to notice the dangerous spark in DeMarco's eyes to conclude that he wouldn't be bothered any time in the future.

Two weeks later he was a guest in DeMarco's house and was introduced to a world he never dared to dream about. Filled with luxury and glamour, the shadow side was as deep as it could get and Nicholas felt the strong pull of the DeMarco lifestyle. So the moment his back was healed, he decided to quit his miserable life and become someone, even if that someone wasn't the nicest guy in town. After all maybe faith had finally spun his wheel in an upright direction. Little did he realize; that what goes up, most come down…

Eight months later…

"There's that pizza boy, what's his name? Uh, something De Luca?", Raphael asked Nicholas while they were watching a van arrive from their father's study.

"Tony, Tony De Luca, he's the cousin of Alberto De Luca, the restaurant owner on 3th street. Remember your dad asked us to keep an eye on him? Apparently, De Luca worries about the kid running loose and asked your father for a favor.", Nicholas answered grinning a bit. Asking a mob boss to keep an eye wasn't exactly very educational in his opinion.

"Yeah, I remember, don't know why I bothered, though."

"He also asked you to show him around but if you're too busy, I can pick up your slack.", Nicholas offered, imitating quotation marks at the word 'busy'.

He knew Raphael would never live up to his father's image of the ideal son. Arthuro scored to high in that arena and when Nicholas himself joined the family unofficially some months ago, Raphael, or Rafe as he liked to call himself, took an instant disliking of him. The feeling was mutual, but Nicholas wasn't foolish. He knew a certain truce had to be made, even if it was an uneasy one. So he and Rafe rarely teamed up and it worked fine for both of him.

Arthuro, the big brother without flaws, as Rafe would call him sometimes, was more easily befriended. He was much like his father, diplomatic at one hand but ruthless when necessary. Rafe lacked the first quality which was replaced by his awful temper. Still, you didn't want to get in either one of the DeMarco's black book. He vividly remembered the retaliations after the shootout. Fortunately the streets were calm once more with at its center of importance the family stronghold.

"I'm going to have a look." Nicholas stated as he walked out of the office, his steps echoed across the grand hall as he swiftly descended the marble staircase. Rafe remained standing there, just staring out of the window.