The pop of a bottle of liquor being opened. The soft somber piano playing in the background, the relaxed voices of the restaurant patrons enjoying their meal. Where else but The Chairman? Gene pours his drink into a glass, no ice. His face shadowed in his office with the smallest cloud of smoke from his cigar. “The Red Spade liquor. In my own opinion the best on the Island.” The voice is a familiar one. But surly it wasn’t Gene’s. As he takes his sip and leans forward you can catch a glimpse of a scorched chin as he lowers his mask. Golden with a shine to it. “But I suppose that’s too vein of me. Yes.. I know that.” Gene turns his attention to his muted television. Shocked at what’s come of his great city. After all, a city is only as great as the people that inhabit it. He slowly gets up and walks to the other side of the desk. He gently placed his hands on the man whom was sitting across from him. “It used to be Mafias and Motorcycle Clubs. Waging war through the street. Hell there was a Neo-Nazi Group that made a dent for a while. My point is.. I’ve been here a long time, practically since it was formed and still in a rather, fragile state. I built up a reputation of being trustworthy and loyal. A man you can depend on. Gene tightens his grip on the man’s shoulders. A soft gasp of air shot out of the man’s mouth. “Loyalty only gets you so far. To survive, thrive and outlast your competition you have to be cut throat. Fearless. And most importantly, you must do what’s best for business. You my friend are not best for business. Having sexual relations with the leader of notorious gang members girlfriend is NOT best for business. So please tell me, why?” The man looks forward, after the accident nobody has looked Gene in the eyes. As Gene loosens his grip the man takes a gulp, beads of sweat trickling down beside his ear. “Sir, I didn’t think that you had anything to do with them. They’re just a low level street gang. We just thought that.. Well what would you need with them?” Gene crouches down the view is from behind him. As he slowly takes his mask off you can see the visible disgust on the young man’s face. “Don’t be afraid.. No shhh.. LOOK AT ME! I own everybody, everybody has a price and everybody serves their purpose. A community thrives on the skills of individuals, not on groups. So when you fuck up one small fraction of a machine you ruin the whole thing. He’s unreplacable, you aren’t.” Gene takes the man’s neck and wrings it out. A soft chuckle before a loud snap. The men who work for Gene look on in horror as a once figure head for change has diluted to a crime boss. “Take him and dump him in the swamp.” “What about the others?” “Tap their houses, make sure we get a soft much information on them as possible. They still serve a purpose. And Lou.” “Yes sir?” “I need to talk to you.” As Lou makes his way over he is visibly terrified of Gene. From the point of view of Lou, Gene’s face isn’t horribly disfigured. Puss and scarred facial features are all that remain of a truly great man. Gene grabs his shoulders. “I’m counting on you to do the right thing. Don’t disappoint me.” Gene slowly puts his mask back on and sits back down. Taking another sip of his liquor in his empty room. “Red Spade liquor, best on the island in my opinion...”