-Sorry for the extremely late update. But this is longer than usual and it would have been fair only if I gave it as much time as it deserved. Here's where the second phase of this story boosts up.

The job was simple: threaten Oliver- a bald man in his fifties- to give back a USB that supposedly belonged to their leader, Stuart.

The job was to be done at Oliver's house; number 34 Park Avenue at 12 during the night. His three children and wife slept in another room, they had been briefed, while the man himself worked all night long on his laptop, trying to hack into firms, agencies, and yes, gangsters. It was a simple enough job, so two bronze men, one of whom was Charles and the other Henry, were chosen to be led by a silver ranked, Will.

Charles was tired of struggling for so many years through the ranks. He would at least have thought that he had earned his right to be in Silver. But no one was promoted or demoted except when Stuart picked them himself. The pay increase too as one moved higher, so did the amount of respect within the gang.

But what Charles wanted did not concern money or respect, his only reason to live now was to make sure that Stuart died from his own hands. And that too, not in the dead of the night during an attack from behind. No, he wanted to look him in the eye and inflict unimaginable pain on him until he begged Charles to kill him. And only then will he finish the job.

To do that not only required skill and an insane amount of luck, first he needed to move up in the ranks so he could at least meet Stuart in person. For the lower ranks- just like today- the message was just passed on and one would not even get to see Stuart's face.
Someone banged on the door.

"Who is it?" Charles grunted. He felt as if he himself had forgotten his voice.

"Yo itzmeh. Henry!"

"Password." Charles stepped closer to the door so he could clearly hear the voice being produced from the other side.

"Death." Answered Henry.

Charles opened the door to a black American with short hair and a clean shaved face, who burst through the door and made his way towards the small fridge in the right corner of Charles's small room.

"How d'ya even live on them bananas man! I mean look at'cha. One migh' think you need'a eat two cows a day."

Charles remained quiet, as he always did. Henry had begun downing his second banana when Charles's phone rang.
"Yeah." He answered the call. "On our way." He looked at Henry. "Let's go."

Will had joined them on their way and now all three of them were sitting in a black SUV which they had parked at some distance from number 34 Park Avenue. Like all other seniors, Will wasn't talking much to them. Not that Charles wished he would, but Henry seemed keen on prolonging their conversations.

"So we'gonna kill'em or what?" He asked for the third time.

"We've not been given any direct order whether we have to or not...So I guess it just depends on the situation." answered Will.

Charles sat quietly in one corner, drowning himself in the dark and saying no more than he had to since they had left. He glanced down at his wrist watch- no longer a Rado or Armani, but a fragile copy- and spoke for the first time in minutes. "It's time."

They exited the SUV and began walking towards the metallic main gate of Oliver's house. Upon reaching their destination, one by one they swiftly climbed over it and entered within the boundaries of that house. Sometimes Charles wondered why people locked their gates when you could just as easily jump over the whole thing.

They walked through the garage and entered the small passageway on the top right corner which stretched through the other three sides of the house. You could leave the garage from one opening of that passage and exit it from the other side just to realize that you had reached the other corner of it.

They kept walking at a steady place through the passage and turned left withe the passage. Their black clothes camouflaged them well with the dark. You could barely make out three black shadows if you look a little too closely. The passage widened when they turned left, now leading them to the place where apparently Oliver's clothes were washed and hung on a line to dry. An old rusty ladder was placed on the left wall while a water geyser burned slowly at the right.

They could barely make out the small servant quarter in the dark which stood a few paces in front of them. They had been informed that there was no one inhabiting it at the moment and that it would be safe to use it in the plan. With one catlike motion, Charles ran soundlessly up to the ladder which was perched on a wall and used it as leverage to reach the eight meter high servant quarter. His fingers got hold of the top and he pulled his whole body with them, all thanks to the pull-ups that he did in the gym.

"Woah!" Henry swore under his breath.

The other two were helped by Charles as he held out a hand to pull either of them up. Now that they were standing on top of the quarter, they stepped over the outdoor unit of an air conditioner and jumped into a balcony. A light shined behind the completely drawn curtains of Oliver's room where he would be hacking a multi-national agency, oblivious to how close Charles, Henry and Will were going to attack him.

A wooden door stood in front of them which was locked. They checked the windows for possible solutions to entry, but nothing came. There was only one thing to do now. Break the lock, complete their work as fast as they could, and leave the crime-site at top speed.

"Stand back." grunted Charles and charged straight at the door. His muscular body collided with the wooden door that looked only too fragile to take his weight and flung open immediately. A lever, which Charles thought must be the lock, flew off and fell a couple of feet away from the door, producing a shrill sound as it collided with the floor.

All three of them pulled out their revolvers and rushed into the house. Any moment now and someone would come to check the noise. They entered the corridor and took the first room to the right, whose light they had seen from the window. Charles, who wasn't supposed to be leading this mission, stayed ahead and flew open the door (which wasn't locked) to reveal a chubby bald man whose eyes were bulging out with fear at the sight of them. He leapt back with his hands in the air soundlessly, but Charles pushed the silencer of his revolver into Oliver's mouth.

"Where's the USB?" He hissed. Oliver shook his head hastily. "Give me the USB which contains the information on Stuart Lee or I'm gonna shoot you right now!" Oliver's eyes widened with fear at the word 'shoot'.

He pointed towards a drawer in one corner of the room. Will opened it only to reveal a hundred different kinds of USB's, all labeled with surgical tapes.

"WHICH ONE!" Charles shouted in Oliver's ear who flinched miserably, then pointed at the revolver whose barrel was still placed in Oliver's mouth. Charles pulled it out.

"It's a blue one labeled 'Confederants'." His voice was more shrill than one might expect from a fat person. Close to the drawer, Will had already started looking for it. Henry, who had merely been an onlooker, now rushed to the drawer as well and pulled the whole thing out, dumping each and every USB on the bed. They looked through the mess and finally found the right one.

"Got it!" exclaimed Henry as both of them dashed for the door. Charles had the revolver still pointed at Oliver's face. His eyes were piercing into Oliver's. Every time he pointed a gun at someone, he'd see Stuart. The fire in his chest lit up once more. He's finger curled around the trigger, begging for him to let it fire. This wasn't Oliver's war, but Charles had to do so for himself.

He pulled the trigger and Oliver slumped in front of him on the floor. He doubled back and followed the others out of the house.

**************************

"HOW COULD YOU? WHAT WAS THE NEED, REALLY?" Will barked at Charles. He was completely outraged that an unnecessary loss of life took place in a mission that he was leading. "It was a simple enough job. Go to Oliver's house, get the USB, come back. AS SIMPLE AS THAT! What part of that plan explains Oliver's murder?" He was eyeing Charles down who looked the least bit threatened and was staring back just as fiercely.

"Well, no part of the plan said that we can't kill him." He replied just as coldly.

"Just because you can kill a person doesn't mean you should."

"JUST SHUT UP! You've got a problem with that? Huh? You wanna tell Stuart? GO TELL HIM. TELL HIM I SHOT THE GODDAMN MAN AND THAT IT'S MY FAULT." He had lost his control back at Oliver's house and was losing it again. Temper had always been an issue for him.

He took off his black shirt and threw it in one corner of his bed. His muscular body was intimidating even by gangster standards. Charles walked to the fridge and pulled out another bunch of bananas.

"Oh, that I will. Wait till Stuart calls. I'll tell him you messed up. Not taking it on my head. Either you'll be kicked out of the gang or even better, killed."

Charles sat on his bed's edge and began eating, completely indifferent to Will's intimidating remark.

Will took out his phone and dialed a number.

"Hello! Yes, yes boss. Yeah, we've got the USB. Yeah it's with me. Checked it on my laptop. No, no not the Canada assignment. It's about the Swiss account. Yes, yes. Casualties? Well..." He shot a nasty look at Charles. "Oliver was shot. No, not by me. The bronze ranked guy. Yeah, Charles. Reason? Says he lost control."

Will made a contemptuous noise and Stuart's static voice boomed through the phone's speaker as he shouted. "WHAT! I DID NOT ORDER ANY BLOODSHED. IT WAS A SIMPLE MATTER OF THREATENING." The voice stopped for a moment. Then lowered out of earshot of both the bronze ranks.

"Yes, sir. As you wish." Will said before ending the call. He looked up and stared deep into Charles's eyes, who stared right back at them.

"He wants to see you." Will said with a smug grin. "And boy...does he sound mad!"

-Am I the only one who still has a part of him left in Alex? Gosh.