It was so early in the morning that the sun had yet to begin its ascent. There was a chill in the air but a decided stillness that was the only way one could distinguish this time of morning from night. The expansive water had not been disrupted by wind and was still. It was an ungodly hour to most, but there was also calmness that made the time of day not only bearable, but intriguing.
One shiny black car was parked, looking out towards the lake. The man inside was nursing black coffee, sipping it calmly with no sign of emotion in his eyes as he waited. He didn't bother to fiddle with the music stations or mess around on his phone, he simply waited.
He did not wait long.
A black four door vehicle with tinted shades appeared out of the darkness, crawling towards him threateningly. The man in the former vehicle calmly finished his sip of coffee before setting it in the console and moving to exit the car gracefully.
He buttoned his immaculate suit and leaned against his car cockily as he waited for his conversational partner to exit his own vehicle. He nodded at the driver of the SUV who he could barely make out through the tinted windows; the driver gave such a small nod in return that it was barely noticeable.
The driver got out of his seat and went to the back seat to hold the door open for the other occupant. An older man exited the vehicle just as smoothly as the younger man had just moment prior. He too was dressed in a sharp suit, his graying hair smoothed back with not a single strand out of place. It seemed impossible, but his face did not show any bags that one would expect to see with the current hour being upon them.
"Come, we haven't much time."
Wordlessly, the younger one followed his superior, easily matching his stride with his long legs.
"The Marino's have slipped up again," the younger one reported as the older one lit a cigar and began to smoke it, a thick smell coating the air around them. "Even the police noticed."
"And this slip?"
"Two of the younger family members have been running rampant lately. There's been six deaths - two of which are open homicide investigations- that their names have been linked to, just in the last month alone. They've been sloppy," he said, shaking his head in disgust.
"And the firm of yours knows?" the older asked.
"They're particularly interested in the ones that appeared accidental. It's their hope that the police will be able to handle the homicides without their intervention."
The two both rolled their eyes.
"What else of the Marino's?"
"They have recently purchased a gun manufacturer in the Congo area; the manufacturer is small and deals primarily with different types of grenades."
The elder man nodded and thought for a moment.
"Your people are good; that has not showed up in our own surveillance."
The younger man thought it in his best interest to not comment one way or another and simply nodded.
"And what of their knowledge of us?"
The younger man appeared noticeably agitated at the question.
"That information is kept incredibly regulated," he growled, "The most that I've deduced is that they have a general awareness, or at least suspicion, of the drug shipments but they've gotten stuck in tracing the global supply chain. I also think they lack specifics on the quantities."
He watched his boss smoke his cigar and stare out at Lake Michigan which was cloaked in darkness. It would be another couple hours before the sun would begin to rise and illuminate the area. He refrained from shivering, even though the darkness was chilling.
"And what of our…finer operations?" he asked delicately.
"They have no knowledge of the…living shipments, sir," he answered confidently.
"They damn well better not," he growled, "I've spent the past four years working my fucking ass off to keep that untraceable." He took another puff of his cigar as if to calm himself from his sudden irritation.
The younger man said nothing and gazed passively around the docks without craning his neck too much.
"You've been of use, as usual, my boy," he finally said, clapping his free hand down on his shoulder firmly.
"Thank you, sir," he said with a stiff nod.
Suddenly the gray haired man swiftly moved his arm, cigar falling to the ground and pulled a small center fire revolver out of his suit jacket and dug the end to the younger man's chest, pressing against his heart.
"As always, remember that if you ever so much as consider double crossing me…your life will end as slowly and painfully as humanly possible. Is that clear?"
The younger man nodded calmly, not seemingly concerned about the gun threatening his life.
"Of course, sir."
The older man nodded and moved to tuck the revolver away again.
"Good man," he said, turning and walking back towards where their vehicles were left, driver waiting with the door open.
"I will contact you when I feel it is appropriate," he said, pausing before entering into the backseat. "Until then, I want you to focus your efforts on getting that 'restricted' information and finding out what they know about us."
The younger man nodded in confirmation.
"Contact me if anything urgent arises," he ordered before nodding at his driver, who shut the car door with a slam and slid into his own seat in the vehicle. Within seconds the ostentatious car was peeling out of the area and disappearing once again into the darkness.
If the younger, bronze haired man was alarmed at having been threated with death and torture, he did not show it. Instead, he simply undid a button and slid back into his car. He pulled his own revolver out of the back waistband of his trouser and tossed it on the passenger seat next to him.
He took a sip of coffee and shook his head to himself, tasting the coffee that was slightly colder than earlier, and drove off towards the city.