Samuel Colombo, a well-known hitman in the underground, was in the now empty house. The body of his client's debtor lay on the dining room table. He wipes his hands to remove the blood and walks around looking for something of value to sell. Snow was forecast for tonight so he wore a big coat to keep his big body warm.

He lights a cigarette and it is then that he hears a small banging somewhere in the house. His hand automatically draws his gun and he walks silently, following the sound, leading him to the basement of the home. The stairs creak as he quietly descends. With his hand he turns on the light and with the other he points it at whoever was there in the dark. The light illuminates the dank, dirty, cold basement, his eyes take in the whole horrible place and there, in a dirty, torn rag, he sees her. A little girl. She was dirty, malnourished and visibly injured. Her big eyes staring at him, frightened. "Hello, sweetheart." He says, a very soft voice, lowering his gun.