Garrett Donnelly (garrettdonnelly) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2013-01-08 03:44:00 |
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Nico was actually glad for the chance to get his hands dirty. There was nothing quite like taking the life from someone and the downside of being a capo was that he had underlings to do that for him. Thankfully, when Leo incited a gang war, he did it better than anyone else. One of his delivery boys picked up the crate Leo had sent them and dispersed the orders with clear instructions. Anyone failing to comply knew the consequences, but Nico made sure to choose his most loyal men so that there wouldn’t be any hiccups along the way. Feeling a bit greedy, he took the top two on his list for himself and set out. By 9pm, he was positioned in the home of the second name on his list. Dressed in jeans, tee, and black leather jacket, he blended in with the crowd meandering down the street. Thankfully in Vegas, pedestrians were never out of the ordinary. As soon as the hour ticked past on his watch, Nico pulled the trigger, silencer muffling the shot. He waited for the man to slump forward in his chair, bullet lodged neatly in his brain, before collecting his casing and exiting the way he came in. There wasn’t a trace of him left behind, thanks to his gloves, just the way he had learned under the tutelage of his employers. Next was the first name on the list, the one that required a beheading. Nico was excited about that. It wasn’t something he got to do all that often. His car was parked two blocks away from the first mark’s place so he didn’t get to the second - and more important - mark until nearly a quarter to ten. Not that it mattered. He slipped in undetected, watching to see where his target was. The man was in his bathroom, getting ready for an early night in considering his wife was away if the empty home and ring on his finger was any indication. That’d be a nasty thing to come home to, but she knew the risks marrying a man like him. Nico stepped forward, out of the shadows, and the man stared at him in the mirror. They both knew it was over. He finished washing his hands before turning, his hand twitching and reaching for a weapon of some sort, but Nico didn’t give him the chance. The bullet went right through the man’s heart. Messy, sure, but it was about to get messier. He headed into the garage, where the only relatively sharp object was a metal shovel designed for gardening. Well that sucked. He grabbed it though and, with difficulty, managed to sever the man’s head from his body as requested. The head went into a garbage bag that went into another garbage bag and again and again until it wasn’t going to leak everywhere. Gordon was pounding in the back of his head by the time he got to his car and Nico had just about had enough of that. He’d have to go see Morgan soon, or cross. “Fuck that,” he muttered, speeding off toward his home base to have one of his lackeys to deliver the head. Shooting the messenger tended to be literal in their line of work. |