Back when I first started out as a freelancer, on a summer night. I just finished dealing with some loan sharks at West, and head back to one of the Italian's joints on the second floor of a restaurant to collect my cut. Went passed three crooked hallways, two sets of stairs, a bunch of doors, and guards smoking indoors while on duty. At the time, little Italy wasn't completely under the control of the family like today. Small factions of scumbags and lowlifes occupy their courters of the street.

After taking my compensation, my employer's employer, a fat fuck in a gray tailored (only way a suit would fit him) suit, pressed down on my shoulder and 'ask' me to stay and get a drink before hitting the road.

The guy was called Nicola..... something. There's a nickname after it but I can't remember. By that time, people thought he was going to be the one to prevail in the power struggle, though about six years ago he was killed in his own car, three shots to the head right when he was leaving the city. But before that happened, he was the biggest and meanest fish in Little Italy and got a reputation for being mutable.

That night I couldn't find a reason not to stay, and Nicola wasn't giving me a choice either. So I sat down, put on a big smile, had a few drinks, and laughed with them. It was mostly fine, the guys were pretty fucking hilarious that's true, but during my sixth drink (or tenth.)

Someone mentioned there was a stench on his sleeve from the sauce and made a follow up "You should get someone to clean it, a laundry shop or something. That shit's hard to come off."

And to that, Nicola replied. "You're right, Lee boy! Come on, do what you people do best!" Everybody laughed.

About a hundred things went through my mind, but I didn't say a word..... until he added.

"Oh, what's up with the gloomy expression boy? Here, you get it cleaned, and I'll give Pete's dog to you. It's a lazy animal, never saw it run, sure the meat is tender."

Everyone in the room bursts into laughter, except two guys at the corner, they noticed the intent on my face. And I noticed them. Thank fuck I did, or else I would have killed him with the booze courage. I forced myself to laugh with them and relaxed my clenched grip.

When the laughter and bullshits are wearing off. I said with a cheery voice.

"Nah. I'll do it, no problem. Shit. I'll even dye the linings pink for you!" The guys and Nicola gave each other a confused look. So I added. "You know. So when you go visit your family at the farm, you don't have to tip off the owners! Just wear the jacket reversed and crawl on all fours! No one will notice! You'd fit right in!"

I really shouldn’t drink however much I drank that day.

Next thing I know, I'm pined at the table with my press on the surface. Nicola was standing right behind me with a steak knife, face so red he looked like Santa Claus.

The second before he guts my belly, my mind comes off with something. I shouted.

"He didn't laugh!" Nicola's hand stopped mid-air. He flipped me over facing him and asked.

"What the fuck are you on about now?" I pointed at one of the two guys at the corner.

"The guy didn't laugh. When everyone else in the room was laughing their ass off he didn't, not just when I said what I said, but the entire time. Now I know what I spoke was disrespectful to you and your family, but Sir. You have bigger problems than a foul-mouthed man. He didn't laugh, but he did something else!" The guy's pupil expanded, even in that state, at that distance I can still see it.

"Ever since I walked in here. He's been fixing his shirt, sweating, fidgeting, he's nervous about something." The other guy at the corner gave him a look and noticed a drop of sweat rolling down his temple. "When you're about to stab me, he places his left hand inside of his collar, pulling something........ I bet he's on to something. Hell, maybe he's wearing a wire right now!"

I could have pulled that off more gracefully or more believable if I wasn't panicking. But the oldest trick in the book always works, you throw a bunch of mildly connected facts and observations, then you drop a speculation as if it's also a fact. Leading the others to connect the dots.

Now, normally the guy would just take off his shirt and show us he's not. Or starts cursing. But instead, his face turned pale. There was just Nicola and his crew in the room, the restaurant downstairs was closed hours ago. His silence seems extra uneasy. Even Nicola himself turned around to glance at him.

All of a sudden, the guy gets off his seat and rushes towards the front gate, he said something but it was too quick I didn't catch it.

I know this guy is my lifeboat so before everyone else reacts. I twist Nicola's thumbs, with just enough force to have him let loose. The timing was just right, as the guy ran passed Nicola, he let go of me.

I pull out the dagger in my sleeve and stab him in the belly, the force of him running into me plus the adrenaline state I was in. Imagine my surprise, when my dagger stuck. That one second of complete silence in the room where everyone was in shock felt like an eternity.

And the man reacted first, he went for the gun in his jacket with his right hand, and the motion kicked in my muscle memory. I clutch his wrist with my left hand to prevent him from pulling the gun out of the holster. Then I pull the dagger out and tried to slit his throat, but he catch my wrist when the point is inches away from his pulsing windpipe.

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The man's eyes are bulging like it's about to pop out of his eye sockets and hit my face. A ferocious grin splits his face in half as he slowly twists my wrist and the point of my dagger back on me.

He would have got me, but the man was too focused on my hands to realize my right leg took a step forward to the back of his left foot.

A drop of saliva drops down his chin, the primordial anger his brain produced in order to survive took complete control of him. But as I suddenly opened my right palm and let my dagger fall on the ground, a flash of confusion flew through him.

Fun fact, the human wrist can turn to about 75 maybe 80 degrees vertically but only 20 degrees parallel.

I move my right upper arm completely forward towards him while all of my strength, rotating my palm, forcing the strength of my entire right arm on his joint. He let go as the pain wriggled his face. That is before my right elbow sunk him. As his face along with his mass shifts back, my right leg hooked the back of his knee, tripping him as he falls down on the floor.

And of course, the first thing he does is reach for his gun again. This time I waited till he pulled it out before I stepped on his hand, pinning him and his arm on the ground.

The whole process was about 13 seconds maybe shorter. But the crowd of drunken Italians in the joint took another 5 seconds before they pulled out their weapon, unsure of who to aim it.

At the corner of the room, I noticed the guy who was sitting next to the man on the ground remained motionless in his seat.

Nicola walked over and gave me a stare, telling me what would happen if I was wrong without a word before he ripped the guy's shirt open.

He isn't wearing a wire, he's wearing a bulletproof vest.

In Faust, folks in my line of work almost never wear vests. Even if it might save their lives, walking around the city at 30 degrees Celsius while wearing it will put you off commission faster than a punch, another downside is you'll sweat so much that it is impossible not to be noticed.

Nicola's crew put him in the exact spot where I was held, only this time, the fat man was holding a pistol.

"Isn't it hot wearing that thing around Alonzo?" Nicola smiles like a snake with venom dripping down the edge of his mouth, and talks with a sound sweeter than a jar of honey. "Now, tell me what you're wearing this for hm?.... Are you in some kind of trouble? Somebody on your tail?"

The guy was sweating again, his face looked like a waxed corpse, glinting unnatural shimmers as his mouth moved but no comprehending words came out of it, his eyes darted to all the faces in this room and found doubting strangers instead of the people he called brothers.

"Or.....did you go to the Yanks behind my back? Didn't I prohibit all of y'all to loan from them?" Seeing Alonzo in his state of mind, Nicola decided to threw him a life jacket filled with aluminum. And the fool went straight for it.

"I... Yeah, I'm sorry I didn't come to you immediately..... I just...... didn't want you to find out I was out there doing it again.... You know... And I was afraid man, I was afraid they'd come for me on the streets or..or...."

"I know I know..... It's alright boy, you're alright but..... tell me....... Why the fuck did you ran?" The slightest traces of blood returning to his face disappeared, and a sick paleness took over.

"What.. I was worried man... I was worried you would pressure me on this and...... I wouldn't want everyone to find out I have been messing with the Yanks again and.... And the stresses lately....it.... It made me take one too many hits in the back... I wasn't thinking, I was just.... Just on edge Nic...."

The guy was stuttering harder than an 80-year-old man in a wheelchair, without teeth, and diagnosed with dementia but Nicola kept nodding as he pieced together a broken alibi. To be honest, it's not a bad story, just that no one would believe him with the way he delivers it.

Nicola licks his lips as his thumb fidgets the hammer of gun.

"Oí, Enzo! What do you think? He's telling the truth?" The guy who was sitting next to him takes a step closer.

A tall man with sharp nose, strong chin. Middle part with strays of dark brown hair falling on his forehead. Three-piece black suit, double-breasted but not a single trace of antsy as if he was born in them. Blue eyes convey a calmness and amusement, under its deep blue sea, at the bottom of it, swims sharks and whales.

I didn't know things like I do now. But even back then I could tell he is an extremely dangerous man.

"I want to believe our friend here, I do! ....Alonzo shoot too much of that shit and acted weird, and that's that..... oh, and he's wearing a vest because the Yanks were on him." Enzo was about 30ish at the time, but his voice was already husky as a 60-year-old chain smoker.

"But uh.....Alonzo...." Enzo bent down, closing the distance between him and the poor bastard. Whispering. "I'm afraid you're a terrible liar."

Something's off. The transition of Alonzo's facial expression was..... too extreme even in these circumstances. The hopefulness when Nicola asks what Enzo thinks, the frozen anticipation when he starts playing with him, and the complete desperation and..... betrayal when Enzo abandons him.

"You know why? Cause you weren't like this last weekend. You, were bragging about some blonde doll at strings&arrows gave you a sloppy oral behind her man's back weren't you? And now you're saying how nervous you are about not being able to pay those slimy fucks at West. The only possible explanation was that...... you borrowed from them between this time. But...."

Enzo made a small pause as he exchanged a look with Nicola.

"......two weeks ago the Yanks accidentally fucked over the japs and skipped town.... Not some big news, the whole thing was all hush-hush. But it contradicts the explanation of you borrowing from them since nobody knows where the hell they are."

I watch Alonzo have a mental breakdown in silence as Enzo slowly tears him up piece by piece. He subtly knits his eyebrows, raising his eyelids every time he makes a statement as if he's a patient teacher telling his student where he did wrong. But under those crystal blue eyes, I know he's enjoying this too.

"So, Nic. I think he's full of shit." Nicola makes a dry laugh while grinning.

"Agreed."

In a blur of motion, Nicola slams the butt of his .38 on Alonzo's mouth. Breaking his lips and sinking two of his front teeth inwards blood quickly rolls down his chin and side of his mouth. Another slam. This time harder. Broke his front teeth as he let out a whimper from his nasal, the lower half of his face is a vivid contradiction to the paleness seconds ago.

"Now. I'm going to ask you again Alonzo, and this time you better don't treat me like a fool, thinking you could slide with those horse shit."

I was going to bounce the fuck out while all of their attention was on him, but what he said next stop my motions to the door.

What happened till that point was just some regular disputes, even though I almost got killed. But what comes next makes me wonder in the future days if there were some zodiac, horoscope events or as the Chinese called it 'dao xuemei' which brings me a year's worth of bad luck.