act11mini

9:35. Five minutes late.

We'd better find another place. For safety.

I don't want to spend a second more than I have to, but you know what want even less? To miss our contact.

He's supposed to come straight to us first thing after getting into Lungmen, but there ain't a single soul coming out of city gate. He's probably stuck somewhere inside. So we wait.

Too many eyes here at the city gateway. You sure you wanna stick around?

What else are we gonna do? We gotta do what the psycho bitch wants!

You remember the first thing she said after she caught us?

'Changed my mind. Let's hope you're more useful to me alive than dead.'

Not that thing! The next one!

'Don't blow this. Mess up a single time, I cut your throats.'

So, so instead of risking missin' our guy and losin' the letter, I'd rather be a little more conspicuous.

You—Whatever.

There's the crowd.

What does the guy look like again?

Don't hurt yourself trying to remember. It's not going to happen.

What do you mean?

*sigh*.

The broad never said anything about what our contact looked like or what he's wearin'. He'll come to us, not the other way around.

You remember how the meeting goes down, right?

Gambino?

The contact asks us, 'Would you like some mayonnaise teppanyaki macaroni,' we'll tell him, 'Supersize, for two,' and he'll give us the letter.

I'm impressed.

Just hearing that password makes me wanna puke. Couldn't forget it even if I wanted to.

It's 9:50. Even the last group into the city is gone by now.

Something must've gone wrong. We should move.

What if he shows and we ain't here?

Like that could happen. We can't just stand around any longer!

Maybe customs busted him?

Even if not, no harm in waitin' for him a little longer. It's his own damned fault he didn't find us. The crazy bitch can't do nothing about that...

What's the difference?!

She's off her goddamned rocker. She ain't gonna think about who's at fault here, it's all about results! If you don't move your furry ass right now, you're signing our death certificates!

Alright, let's say I do it your way. Where do we look for him?

Use your brain.

Only a Siracusan would write the looney broad a letter. Aside from Penguin Logistics, who else in Lungmen's got anythin' to do with Siracusa?

You tellin' me it's the traitors we brought with us from the old country?

Not only did they betray us, they're nabbing our guy?

Heh, guess you do still got a couple of brain cells to rub together.

Can't say for sure it was them, but they do fit the profile. They're gonna know something, at least.

Andiamo.

Those traitorous cazzi. One day, I swear I'm gonna—

Hold it!

I've been telling you since the first day we stepped into Lungmen. They got their own rules here.

Don't forget how we lost to the Rat King, and how he let us go without a scratch.

Don't need the reminder, Capone!

I sure hope so.

So, we're droppin' in on the traitors' hideout. We ain't there to pick a fight or teach 'em a lesson. Just doin' a little information gathering. You hear me?

Slow down. This is the place.

How do you feel?

Never better.

What's the plan? Grab a couple and start askin' questions?

Probably a better way.

If they're the mooks who kidnapped our Messenger guy from Siracusa, then it's somethin' their bosses cooked up. And if it wasn't them, then these small timers ain't gonna know anything.

It's times like these you actually give that brain a little workout, huh?

So, how are we runnin' this one? Like we did in the old days? You go make some noise while I sneak in?

Not so fast. We gotta case the joint a little longer. Don't take a risk if their guard is low enough.

We're working for the crazy broad. I need all the help I can get, even if you usually do more harm than good.

Hah, listen to yourself. If it wasn't for me, you woulda screwed up enough for the psycho to run you through.

Haha, twenty-one!

Hell yeah, come to papa!

Hold on, what the hell's that?

What's what? You better pay up—

We got a cheat!

(Quietly) The lookouts are playin' cards in broad daylight?

(Quietly) If I were their boss, I'd shove the whole deck down their throats.

(Quietly) Save it. Who do you even think you are now?

(Quietly) Besides, it's pretty convenient for us they ain't payin' attention.

*Sigh*... I lost big this time.

Haven't been paid jack for a while now. Wouldn't've been playin' otherwise.

What, you think I'm loaded? You were tryin' to steal from me!

Your turf is close to the markets. At least you can pick up some odd jobs and run errands around there. Me? I gotta stroll around the Infected camp. Place's like a graveyard. No work at all, even if I tried looking for some!

Odd jobs?!

Who's there?!

What? What was that?

I heard someone say something just now, and pretty damned close.

What did they say?

I think it was... 'odd jobs?'

Hahahaha... You're hearin' things. Or some punk's tryin' to spook you.

Maybe.

(Quietly) Are you outta your mind?!

(Quietly) No...

(Quietly) Back when we picked up these kids, when we made them Gambinos, Sicilians...

(Quietly) Did ever think they'd end up... errand boys?

(Quietly) Outta my mind? What was all those years of blood, sweat, and tears for? What are they in this for?

(Quietly) To live another day, you egomaniac!

(Quietly) This is all good news, with the shape we're in. And you're complaining?

(Quietly) Of course I'm complaining! How am I supposed—

Shit! They're packing heat?!

No, that's an Originium explosion. A couple blocks away, from the sound of it—Where are you going?!

You wanna stay here your whole life?

Slow down!

G-Gambino, you're running too—

Capone suddenly finds himself speechless, just as Gambino did when he reached the area a dozen or so seconds ago.

A man wearing a black hat and raincoat stands in front of them.

A number of local Lungmenite triads lies on the ground around him. Some of them are unconscious, while others are groaning as they hold their wounds, but they are all alive.

Would you like some mayonnaise teppanyaki macaroni?

Yeah... Supersize, for two.

Buon appetito.

Capone walks a few steps forward and takes a letter from the man in black.

The wax seal on the envelope seems familiar, but he doesn't immediately recognize what it represents.

Buongiorno, which family do you—