The story does have darker elements.

It was the day after the ambush. One of the bosses, a man by the name of Christopher Mazzini, sat down and took stock of the situation. He had a glass of rum in one hand and a pen and paper in the other, which he'd then burn once he'd worked out everything.

He took a slug from his glass and started jotting things down, mumbling to himself as he did. As he did this, an associate, a younger man, serious, lean, walked over to him. He was a lower-level soldier in his organization, but he done well yesterday and today.

"The doctor's here for Vinny." He said.,

"You check him out to see if he's good?"

"Of course, and I'll be in there with him the entire time."

"Good. Take him in, but grab Ben first and send him in."

"What are you doing?"

Normally, he'd be more annoyed by a guy like him asking him something like that, but the kid deserved to know. Plus, angering someone he needed right now for no good reason wasn't a great idea. If anything, Chris knew the value of calm and diplomacy.

"Sorting some stuff. It'll be nothing but ash in an hour, but I needed to think this shit through. This helps."

"Okay." The man said, and walked out. A moment later, Stephen Connor walked into the room. He, like the first man had a tall, lean build to him, but about thirty years on the other man. This was also in contrast to Chris, who was strong, but of medium height and not exactly thin.

"So," he said as he saw Chris writing and making different scribbles on the paper. "It's as bad as we thought last night, wasn't it?"

"Worse." Chris looked up. "The worst of it is the why. I don't get it. We were supposed to be making a peace deal with the police and the city in exchange for what we knew. They've never screwed us before. Doesn't make sense."

"I know. We're not even a huge threat to them. Yeah, we do our stuff, but we don't leave bodies around, we got out of the drug trade years ago. Hell, most of our stuff is more with white collar and some traditional things, nothing that ruffles too many feathers. There's other players that cause a lot more problems. So why us?"

"Those office towers and that big tech push, I think. The white collar stuff, the shit we thought was safer? If they want to bring in these companies, they want to make sure we're not around to earn off it. I mean first round of these companies will probably be okay, but between a bunch of competing cities for new contracts and expansions, or even a corporate headquarters or two, I get it now." Chris said, putting his pen down and rubbing his face. He hadn't shaved in two days.

"Okay, now that makes sense." Stephen agreed. "So, want me to fill you in on the latest?"

"About Vinny?"

"About Vinny."

"Go."

"He'll be dead in a few days." Stephen said. "The doc only needed about thirty seconds in there to make that determination. See, if this was about the tech and white collar shit, why go in like that? To make a show?"

"Probably. Show those companies they were serious about law and order. We just didn't know they'd switch their focus until the doors were busted down. Also, here's the tally."

"Yeah?" Stephen asked. "As bad as I fear?"

"Not as bad, but bad still. So, two dead, one a top earner with connections to a crypto company no one else had, that poor bartender, she's brain-dead."

"Who got her, us or them?"

"Doesn't matter. We had a white flag of peace and they charged in. I'm blaming them regardless. So, her, six arrested, including three in the hospital, Vinny fighting for his life, and a couple of others who have gone to ground that we haven't heard from one way or the other. About sixty percent of our income relied on these guys or the guys under them."

"So, what do we have left? I know we have those inflated contracts, they're too connected to dare cut us off. They know if we go, they go as well. Some of the traditional stuff, but that's more for traditional guys and new guys to earn and learn, we can't survive on that. What about that medical firm?"

"I'm counting them as a loss, but I don't know. Speaking of which, has anyone paid the doctor? Also, where is he from, where'd you find him?"

"Not from a local hospital."

"Then where? He's not a guy who lost his license doing some stupid shit, because Vinny don't need that right now."

"No, actually, I think he's actually from that firm, but I don't know. Vinny himself found him."

"Even with four bullets and his organs failing he can still arrange that... bring me the doctor."

"Sure."

A moment later, an older, short, average built man who had a polite, almost cheerful face came in.

"Ah, I'm assuming this is about our patient."

"You assume correctly. Well, half-correctly. First things first, I've been told he only has a couple of days."

"You heard correctly. I was a combat medic before going back to school and becoming a doctor. Spent some time in Iraq. Two days, and anything past that count yourself very lucky."

"Second question, who are you a part of?"

"Excuse me?" He said, a bit taken aback.

"What he means is who you actually work for in the medical field." Stephen added.

"Oh, Vincent found me through our connection at Holden Medical."

"So, we've not lost contact with that medical company." Chris said.

"No, and you're not going to. We obviously know what happened yesterday, but I was told to tell you that your services are too valuable. It cuts through an immense amount of red tape and allows us to get what we need for our researchers."

"So, that's a big boost." Chris said with bit of a smile. At least that gives us some breathing room. We can work with that now.

"I imagine so, in your situation. Anyway, I must be off. I'll send someone in a few hours, and twice tomorrow. It is not much, but..."

"I get it, and thank you."

The doctor was shown out and Chris them took the paper, lit it up, and watched it turn to ash in the ash tray. He then put the television on, looking for the local news. He watched a few minutes before it went to the D.A. talking about the cases they could make from this. He then pointed to his assistant D.A. a relatively young woman in her late-twenties, pretty, fair skin, medium height, thin, wearing the standard gray pantsuit and heels that it seems all female attorneys are required to wear during a press conference like this.

"And thanks goes to as well to Jodi Reed for her work getting these cases in order. She'll be leading the charge here and I have complete confidence in her ability.

Chris whistled and turned off the television, looking over at Stephen.

"So..."

"Wasn't she the one who we talked to? Who we were supposed to negotiate with yesterday."

"Yeah, she was. In fact, I think she's spearheading this. The D.A. has never been this bold before. No way it was him."

"Good to know, but it doesn't really help us. We go after her, all it does is make life worse for us. The police would destroy us right now, and what they didn't get our competitors would."

"Hey." The young, serious man came into the room. "Vinny wants to see you both."

They walked into the room and saw Vinnie in a hospital bed, even though it was by no means a hospital. They turned a room in the "fraternal club" building they used as a makeshift hospital room.

Vinny looked them and had to laugh.

"You fuckers look worse than me. Fill me in?"

They took a moment and did. Vinny just nodded, then stayed silent a moment. Finally, he spoke again.

"I have an idea..."

They walked back into the other room, and both of them walked over to a bar and poured themselves a generous glass of vodka. Chris spoke first.

"Does he even know what he's saying?" Chris asked.

"Unfortunately, yes." Stephen said as looked over the texts from his burner phone. "The hell of it is, this is about the best idea we have. We need to know who's gonna talk, they need to be persuaded not to, we need a full account of who knows what about us. This is the best way."

"It's insane!"

"Insane is all we have right now. Rebuilding is impossible right now with all this hanging over us, and if we lose much more money, we're done anyway."

"The information, how would he get it anyway? They'd see him! It'd be pretty obvious."

"We can use the wig and surgical mask, like he said." Stephen pointed out.

"I was just humoring that. No way that'd fool anyone. Plus, why don't we just have someone who looks like her?"

"They did this big upgrade last year. Serious investment in biometrics and use of ID badges for things, but not as many police or other security. We need her handprints or fingerprints, and it has to be from a real, live hand, plus there's a voice one, I heard. Luckily, I hear she's in her office mostly later at night anyway and does her other stuff more in the daylight hours."

"It's still insane, and I know what you said, insane is all we have. Shit." Chris said. "So, send, what's his name in there, Sam, and who else?"

"Just Sam and me for now. I'll have our doctor friend call her up and ask to talk. That should get her attention."

Chris didn't ask exactly how, and he didn't really care. All he knew was that Miss Reed was dragged into the fraternal club just as some of the doctor's associates made sure the room Vinnie was in was sterile enough for their purposes. Her mouth was duct-taped and it was taken off once she got onto the room.

"You kill me, and you'll all rot. Let me go."

"Kill you, not a chance." Chris said. "But, you may wish for that once you see what we have in mind. Remember, this was not a move any of us wanted to make. We wanted a reasonable peace. You broke that. Consider this, uh, a valuable life lesson."

As he spoke, she was sedated and was soon unconscious. For what felt like an eternity, she was gone to the world. Finally, she awoke.

She opened her eyes and immediately saw a thin, tan, male face with medium-length black hair and a neutral look staring at her.

She tried to scream, but found she couldn't! In fact, she couldn't move at all! Was she paralyzed? She couldn't even feel anything below her neck!

He was so close she didn't see what he did, but she could then speak, but it didn't sound right. It sounded almost electronic.

"Who are you?" She asked.

"I guess you were too focused on everyone else. I was the person in the hospital bed, then one with four bullets in me. Thank you for that, by the way. I know you didn't pull the trigger, but you're the one who ripped up the deal."

"What do you want? Why can't I move?"

"Because you don't have a body anyway. I mean that literally."

Vinny then moved back from her face and she looked in shock. Below his neck were stitches, then below that, that was her body, wearing the pantsuit she had on earlier today!"

"Oh, my body is gone, it didn't survive. So, here' the deal. You're not getting this body back, too risky, but there's the body of a bartender whose brain is basically gone due to all this. You help me get my associate and I out of this, you get that. If not, we'll do it and we'll have a conversation piece when we need to have a tougher approach. By the way, you'll live a very, very long time on that.

"So!" Vinny said, grabbing a chair and sitting down, crossing feminine legs and grabbing a pad and a pencil off of the table. "Where should we start?"