The car comes to a stop, and you wearily kick against the trunk. The taillights had been reinforced with plywood, preventing you from kicking them out during what felt like a several-hour drive.

You wonder if maybe you shouldn’t have run, as surely this was related to the recent change in leadership in the syndicate, but when your boss went down you knew you were no longer protected, and being reassigned could spell disaster. Some men would be fine, only seeing you for your skills as just another foot soldier, others… others had pursued you for years, attempted to “form alliances” in the name of gaining power. You had little interest in any of the things that could imply. You weren’t even sure who’d taken over, knowing the claw for power had been bloody.

Your question is answered swiftly as the trunk pops open. You blink in the harsh luminescence of an underground garage, revealing a familiar face grinning victoriously down at you.