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Mark Arnold climbed out his bedroom window, hopped to the tree overhanging his roof, and climbed down it. He walked to his mother’s bedroom window to make sure she was asleep, grabbed his briefcase from under the floorboards in the family car, and made his way to the abandoned warehouse up the street. On his way there, he saw the other citizens of Rocky Pines, carrying about their lives. They were watching TV, getting late night snacks, letting out their dogs, all just behaving as if this were any other normal day. He, and only he, knew that today was not just any day, it was a day that would change his life.
Being a high ranking member of the mob, Mark had acquired $150,000 to purchase 300 platinum credit cards belonging to 300 random strangers. Identity theft isn't normally something Mark would normally participate in, or encourage. He generally just sticks to homicide and high-end theft, fulfilling various jobs for his organization, but each of these cards could provide him with over a million dollars, and he couldn't turn down this opportunity to retire at only 16.
He walked up to the door of the warehouse. This was the moment of truth. He pulled the door handle, and saw the man he was looking for. Vladimir Narovski, the most well-known, most feared gangster of all time. “Vladimir, my good man, how's it been? You sure look a little down down, anything I can do to cheer you up?” he said, patting the briefcase in his right hand. Vladimir looked at him blankly, and Mark knew something wasn't right. “This isn't just business,” Vladimir said “I'm not going to put on a show to humor you any longer. I'm number one around here, and I can't have some punk kid butting in on all my jobs.” Mark panicked and dropped his briefcase, backing up, “What do you mean, Vladimir? I thought we were pals.” Vladimir sighed, “You're so naive and innocent. It's a shame you have to die so young.”
Mark didn't know what to think. “That doesn't have to happen, Vladimir. I planned on retiring after this. You can remain on top, have the glory, keep your thunder.”
“We both know that isn't an option Mark,” he said, snapping his fingers to queue 2 dozen of his henchmen. Within seconds Mark was surrounded, and Vladimir had the briefcase he had dropped a few minutes earlier.
Mark dropped to his knees and begged Vladimir. He wasn't going to wait for tension to build, he knew how that would end, he cut straight to the point. “Please Vladimir. I'll take my briefcase, you take the cards, I'll be done right here. I've got about $100,000 in a Swiss bank account, I'll retire on that after I pay back the mob, it doesn't have to end like this.
“I would feel a little upset killing a child. A good co-worker at that.” Vladimir replied. “I'll let you go, but on two conditions.”
“Anything.” Mark said.
“One. You never, EVER do business in my town again.”
“Two. You walk out of here empty handed.”
“I can't do that.” Mark said, “I've got to pay back the mob.”
“Those are the conditions.” Vladimir said “Take 'em or you can try and take me and my men.”
“Deal!” Mark said, and he got up and ran home as fast as he could. He climbed up the tree, ran across the roof and dived through the window, landing in his bed.
He heard his mother snore downstairs and it scared him awake, but he quickly fell back asleep, never to worry about it again.