"It's time," the elderly man said, pressing his hands against the mahogany wood of his desk. His younger companion looked grave, fedora held in his hands as he watched the older man. "Our family has been compromised. He knows too much about us to be left to his own devices."

"How do you want me to take care of him?" the younger man asked, thinking to the .22 revolver pistol in his pocket. He relished the idea of blasting a hole through his head. After all this time, after all the trust, his brother deserved it.

The elderly man shook his head. "No. We simply...downsize. I have a little game it will be amusing to play...one that will ensure any employees with any tiny knowledge of our family or our business will die as well."

The younger man cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. The only games he knew in this business involved a gun. "How does this game work?"

The elderly man smiled. "It starts with some names. And then we let the chaos do our work for us, only to sweep up the pieces and make sure the exit is clean."

The younger man smiled despite his inner thoughts, rushing all jumbled behind his eyes. It's never clean with the bloodstains. It's never clean with the feelings. "I can only hope to be as good as you when the business, the family, falls to me."

"You will be, boy," the elderly man murmured. "You will be."