Chapter Text
The drive to JFK Airport is quiet as Mouse checks your phone for bugs. Your eyes are on the skyline, memorizing it one last time before your flight. You had never given it much consideration before; there was always a new job to run to, numbers circling in your head as you broke just even night after night. Now your gaze hungrily traces beams and spires like you want to grab them, put New York in your pocket to steal away with you.
“Hey boss,” Mouse’s voice comes from miles away, and you turn to him as if you were dreaming. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just…” What are you doing? You’d be better off making a plan of how you’re going to keep your wits and your skin in Chicago. There’s never been a place for grief in you; it just wastes preparation time before the world bowls you over once again. “Just thinking. Nothing specific.”
Mouse eyes you, but either you’re a good liar or he can tell not to pry right now, because he just gives you a nod and an “okie dokie” before going back to digging through your phone in silence.
He may be all for this new venture into the criminal life, and…you can’t say you’re not, per se. You’ve heard about the Archangels, everyone has, and this promises a big pay and infamy boost. Security you’ve only wished for.
But unlike Mouse, you have things to leave behind.
—
“Welcome to the Archangels,” Gabriel says, spreading his hands wide to encompass the crew, the van, the potential upcoming car chase. Hayne’s twisted to look out the window, keeping an eye out for a tail, but she chuckles at the wry tone in his voice.
“Thanks.” You lean back in your seat for a breather while you're still uninjured. “So I know the basics, ‘they’re bad guys, rawr’, but what’s the real story on the Outfit? Who are they, what do they do, why are you guys in a gang war with them?”
Gabriel rubs his chin thoughtfully, watching you through the glass eyes of his mask. “The Outfit, also known as the Chicago Mafia, have been ruling the city for some time now,” he says. “They have their hands in the drug trade, which has given them major influence, and we're working to determine where else they're involved. Too much of what they do in this city goes unnoticed. Don Lavadechi may have cut deals with some major power players.”
Your body flashes cold, then burns, and you grip the seat to make sure you don't fly out of it. “Don Lavadechi?”
“Yes, Felipe Lavadechi took over after his father died in a gang dispute.” Gabriel sighs as he leans back to look out the windshield as Charlie pulls through the gate for an industrial building. You're glad his attention has strayed; you're digging for any hint in your mind that you knew about this.
After all, Felipe should have been the one to tell you.