"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread."

The most profound darkness is born from power – power that creates an insatiable and ambitious hunger for control. In this world, an enormous power lies hidden in the shadows of the wealthy. Secretly, they control governments, politics and economies worldwide. There is virtually no limit to this power. Ruthlessly and purposely the men in charge will fabricate accidents and instigate war. Murder and terrorist attacks are nothing but strategic business plans and the arms and drug trade are just means to generate profit. The more fear and panic they create in the world, the more power they control. If there comes a chance to fight back against this corruption it must be a fatal blow because if the battle is lost, all is lost forever.

RUSH had only one chance to do this right. The secret organization technically, on file, does not exist. It's long since been dissolved of by the government that had assembled the operative, the same government that's now been corrupted by the evil it once sought out to destroy. Now, RUSH operates in the shadows, calculating a precise and critical counter attack against the world's evil. Its' operatives perform for their own personal gain, sharing one common goal: to bring down one man. Global Net Sanyoid head owner, Arthur Griffin, must die.

The man was as dangerous as they come. Arthur Griffin is someone no one dared to cross, not unless you had a death wish. A self made man, Griffin started as an employee of Global Net Sanyoid, climbing the ranks until he became CEO. Within one year Griffin had tripled the company's profits becoming America's most powerful CEO. The day Japanese company founder and head owner Fujisaki passed Griffin had stocked away enough shares of the company to take control, the entire board having been long bought out by Griffin. The decision was unanimous.

From fraud to extortion, Griffin's done it all. His power and greed unrelentingly grew along with his assets. The Griffin reign saw a shift in Global Net Sanyoid focus. The morality of business completely ceased to exist. He increased expenses in the company's weapons division, providing the world's nations with enough gun power to ignite a devastating world war. He funded political action committees starting a number of politicians' careers. He oversaw drug cartels and the black market arms trade. Griffin had a lookout in every sector of the government and the mafia. All who opposed him were quietly wiped out. Simply, Griffin ran LA.

Only a handful of people understood the vastness of Griffin's powers and most of those who do worked for RUSH. They were the best of the best. The small team of highly trained agents made it their mission to not stop until Griffin is destroyed, however that's achieved and however their end may come.

Carlos Garcia stepped into the bright lobby of The Bellagio hotel, eyes landing on his first victim. He followed the man through the service entrance of the empty kitchen.

"Hey, what are you doing here? You can't be back-" It was a graceful maneuver. The man barely had time to panic before his neck had snapped in two. Carlos quickly stripped him of his uniform, dragging his lifeless body to the farthest depths of the freezer.

Logan reached the entrance of The Bank, The Bellagio's grand opening nightclub, surpassing the line of partygoers stretched out into the lobby.

The bouncer gave him a once over and scowled, "Private party."

"I'm on the list." He replied, checking his phone without much interest.

The scantily glad hostess gave him a shy smile, glancing over the clipboard in her hands with pictures aside each and every important guest. "Welcome to The Bank, Mr. Mitchell."

"Sorry, Mr. Mitchell." The bouncer removed the red velvet ropes and Logan slipped through, entering the private elevator to the nightclub.

"Kelly?" Logan pressed one finger to his hidden earpiece.

"We're good to go." At RUSH Headquarters, head technician Kelly Wainwright had hacked into The Bellagio's entire security feed, focusing in on Logan through the state of the art monitors. He was dressed to the nines, pressed Armani suit custom fitted to his figure. "Looking good, Logan."

It was a quick elevator ride, separating the nightclub from the rest of the hotel, hidden away for exclusiveness. A quick walk through the glowing Cristal lounge and Logan found himself in the middle of the bustling party. Businessmen conversed throughout with leggy model types as DJ Karma spun UK dubstep tracks in the background. A busty waiter winked at him as she passed. The onyx-colored ceiling had clear gems dangling from above, refracting the various colored lights throughout the nightclub. In the middle of the dance floor, naked dancers painted in gold swung from crystal spheres hung from the high ceiling. The exquisitely designed black and gold décor made Logan think of a nighttime fantasy. There were gold accents throughout, including much of the railing on the second level.

"Logan, second floor, twelve o'clock." Kelly instructed into the headset. Logan glanced in the direction she ordered. A blonde haired figure stood leaning over the railing, staring absent-mindedly at the bourbon in his hands. "Kendall Knight, 29. You're looking at LA's leading drug lord. Originally from Minnesota, he now works for Griffin. Last night he ceased an entire shipment of coke from Mexican cartels right outside of Tijuana. No one made it out of that warehouse alive. He's pretty ruthless, but of all the young men working for Griffin, Knight is known to oppose him the most. He's engaged to Mercedes Griffin."

Logan watched as a stunningly tall blonde approach Kendall from behind. A black and gold Herve Leger hugged her body, plump glossed lips pouting dramatically. She had one hand on her hips, yelling at Kendall as he continued to ignore her.

"She's 22." Kelly continued, "Griffin's only child. Just graduated from Yale, much thanks to daddy dearest. Spoiled as fuck."

Logan continued watching them. Kendall swirled his tumbler around without so much as a glance to his fiancé. Mercedes huffed in annoyance and sauntered away.

"To your right, by the bar, the big scary looking guy surveying the area, that's Freight Train. He's Griffin main bodyguard."

Logan felt a shove from behind; he fumbled for his footing in the dark club.

"Hey, watch it!" The stranger scowled. He had short brown locks falling into his piercing hazel eyes, a look of displeasure etched on his face. Two bottles of Cristal hung from both hands. He was immaculately dressed, grey Tom Ford slacks and a navy button-up, unbuttoned at the top, revealed his buff chest. He raised an eyebrow, waited for an apology. He was truly, stunningly, handsome. And oh so smug.

"You bumped into me." Logan countered.

"Oh, shit." Logan heard Kelly mumble in his ear.

"Do you know who I am?" The stranger towered over Logan.

"James Diamond," Kelly informed, skimming through the bio at RUSH headquarters, "29, Griffin's right hand man. Notorious playboy and club owner. He runs all of Griffin's nightclubs. The Bank is his latest collaboration with renowned Vegas mogul Victor Drai."

"James," a grey-haired older gentleman approached him from behind, swinging one arm around the taller boy's shoulders, "come on, let's party."

He glanced towards Logan, noticing the tension between the two and smiled politely.

"Victor Drai." He offered.

"Logan Mitchell."

James' expression changed at the name. The annoyance peaked into one of interest. Victor nodded, pleased. "Enjoy The Bank, Mr. Mitchell."

With that, Victor escorted James along, his hazel eyes lingering on Logan. Logan felt hot under the scrutinizing gaze. Only when they reached their destination did James look away. Logan watched as they approached the VIP table adorned with a six foot Sylvia Weinstock golden cake. The men around them popped bottles of champagne in wild excitement. The DJ stopped to make the shout out. The entire club raised their glasses to toast James Diamond, man of the hour, club owner, and party boy extraordinaire.

James turned around the room, eyes searching. He smiled brightly when his eyes landed on Kendall, raising his glass and waiting, as if to wait for Kendall's approval. Kendall smiled back at him, smiling slightly. The entire club rang out in uniform cheer.

In all the madness James looked directly to Logan. A hint of a smirk formed on his lips. He raised his glass, drinking the golden liquid slowly, never taking his eyes off of him. For the life of him, Logan couldn't look away. The spotlight seemed to have focused in on James and the heavy bass drowned out in the distance.

"Logan?" Kelly's voice echoed in his ear. "Logan!"

Logan snapped back to reality. The club music blared back at full force.

"Griffin's here. Climbing the stairs to your right. Go."

He shoved through the crowd as quickly as possible, making a beeline for his target.

"Let's do shots!" James stopped him in his track, appearing seemingly out of nowhere.

Logan felt a firm hand on his back, guiding him to the bar. He kept his eyes on Griffin who stopped at the top of the stairs and conversed with Kendall. The two disappeared behind an area enclosed by curtains. "They've gone to the VIP Room." Kelly informs him. "Lose James."

"What's your drink?" James asked. Logan turned his attention back to the taller boy grinning at him.


"Jimmy." James ordered, the bartender nodded and poured their shots, a round of Gran Patron. "So you're Logan Mitchell. I've heard a lot about you."

"Have you?"

James picks up his glass and waits for Logan to do the same. "Bottoms up."

Logan grimaces when he finishes his third shot, biting down on the lime wedge, trying his best to catch up with James who's already licking the lime juice off his fingertips seductively.

"I believe you owe me an apology." James finally says.

"Excuse me?"

"You ran into me earlier." James smirks.

Logan doesn't reply, offended at the demand.

"You do know who I am don't you?" James asks, almost accusingly.

"You're James Diamond, The Bank is your nightclub." James is clearly pleased with Logan's answer. "Congratulations. Thanks for the drink." Logan adds politely before walking away. James grabs him by the arm, pulling him backwards flush against James' chest.

"Dance with me." He whispers in Logan's ear. The hot breath sends a shiver down his spine.

"Logan." Kelly warns.

James has already dragged him to the dance floor. He drops a blue little pill onto his tongue, offering another up to Logan. Logan pockets the molly when James closes his eyes, losing himself to the music, moving gracefully to Skream's remix of "In For The Kill".

"Griffin's been talking about you, you know?" James leans in close to whisper shout over the blaring bass. "He's really into young…talent."

Logan didn't miss the ominous tone to James' words.

"Personally," James continued, "I think you're nothing special."

Logan pushed away from James then, opening his mouth to speak when a large figure overshadowed them.

"Freight Train, tell Griffin I'm busy." James spat, clearly annoyed with the intrusion.

"Not here for you. Mr. Mitchell, Arthur Griffin wants to see you."

Logan looked to James for a quick moment, ignoring the obvious scowl on the pretty boy's face, "Lead the way."


Logan followed after Freight Train. With a frustrated sigh, James follows after them.

Kelly's voice reappeared in his ear. "Logan, listen to me. You can't do anything rash tonight, you hear me? We have to make sure you get –"

Logan pulls the earpiece from its' place, discreetly dropping it into an abandoned champagne glass as he passes. Kelly watches the action happen from her monitor, the clear sound of the club replaced by a humming buzz.

"Shit!" She shouts.

Freight Train stopped right outside the curtains of the VIP Room, holding the black velvet drapes open for Logan to enter, James following.

Arthur Griffin sat against the black sleek leather couch of the more brightly lit room. Kendall sat to his right. The loud music of the main floor was muted behind the thick curtains.

"James." Griffin greets, surprised at the other boy's presence. "Logan Mitchell, so nice of you to join me."

"My pleasure, sir." Logan replies.

"Please, sit."

Logan took a seat on the opposite couch facing Griffin and Kendall. James planted himself on the other side of Griffin.

Griffin kept his eyes intently focused on Logan, "Gentlemen, you're dismissed."

Kendall stood from where he sat, waiting for James to do the same. James stared at Logan, unmoving.

"James, great job tonight. The Bank looks spectacular. Enjoy yourself." Griffin adds, one hand squeezing James' knee. It was affectionate gesture that doubled as a threat.

James hesitated as he stood, following Kendall out of the room.

"Do you know why you're here Logan?" Griffin finally asks.

"I have a good guess, sir." Logan smiles shyly.

"I've heard a lot about you."


"Let's just say I…admire young talent. You're good at what you do, aren't you Logan?" Griffin smirks.

"I am, sir."

"Please, call me Arthur."

"Well, Arthur" Logan drawls, "I can tell you that I am very good at what I do."

"Well worth $50,000?" Griffin asks, skeptical.

Logan smirked from where he sat, moving slowly over the table between them, settling bit by bit into Griffin's lap as the older man sunk back against the leather. Logan pulled at Griffin's tie, leaning in to whisper, "More."

Griffin surged forward, fingers digging into Logan's hips, pulling Logan deep against him. He leaned in for a kiss as Logan pulled backwards, winding his fingers through grey hair.

"Nuh uh uh, kissing's extra." He teased. Logan bit his lips, grinding into the hard press of Griffin's crotch. The older man growled beneath him. He captured Griffin's bottom lip between his teeth and pulled slightly. Logan gripped the older man's neck with both hands, rubbing circles with his thumb as he slips his tongue against Griffin's, lips moving slowly, teasingly. Griffin smiled into the kiss.

Griffin's hands ran along Logan's back, drawing nearer and nearer to the gun hidden in Logan's waistband. Logan pinned the older man back against the leather couch by his shoulders. Griffin's mouth fell open and his eyes lowered with lust. Logan smirked, hand reaching behind him for the hidden gun. His heart was pounding.

"This is bullshit." James chugged the Heineken in his hands, leaning against the railing of the club. His head was spinning, partially because of the ecstasy and partially because of the building frustration.

"What's your problem now?" Kendall sighed.

"Griffin! It's so obvious what he's doing. He's so old, dude. It's gross."

"A bit hypocritical, don't you think?" Kendall asked.

James only scowled. "This is your future father-in-law we're talking about. Doesn't it gross you out?"

"James, once upon a time you were the one blowing Griffin for your job. Now, that was gross. Don't tell me you're jealous. He's gone through a half a dozen guys since you."

"Yeah, and each one of them suck. Jett? Dak? Wayne Wayne?"

"Ah, Wayne Wayne." Kendall remembered. "You couldn't keep your hands off Griffin's toy then either. You're lucky Griffin let you live. Wayne Wayne is at the bottom of the ocean thanks to you. And who had to take care of that little mess? Who had to convince Griffin it was Wayne Wayne who seduced you? I see the way you're looking at Logan. Stop it."

"It's Logan Mitchell." James stressed, like it meant anything at all to Kendall.

"James, he's a prostitute."

"Escort." James corrected.

"And I'm sure he's great. But Griffin wants him. So you better stop looking."

James frowned into his drink.

Kendall continued, "Wanting what you can't have, it's going to get you killed one of these days."

"He's really hot though," James smiled, "I hear his rate is $50,000 a night. You think he gives good head?"

Kendall grimaced, "I told you, I'm not into guys."

James scoffed, "Bullshit. You'll never get over-"

"Don't." Kendal warned.

A waiter passed them then, head focused on the ground, approaching Freight Train as he guarded the VIP Room steps away from where Kendall and James stood. James had his back to the Freight Train. Kendall watched over James shoulder as the waiter leaned in close, Freight Train slumping forward, confusion pooled his eyes before they closed. The waiter turned his head backwards, locking eyes with Kendall briefly. Every bit of air completely left his lungs; Kendall pushed James out of the way and chased after him as Freight Train fell to the ground.

"What the hell?" James asked. His eyes fell to where Freight Train lay, bleeding. He crouched down beside him; blood stained his hands as it seeped through Freight Train's black shirt.

Security flew to his side. Griffin's men frantically searched the area for the attacker. James shook his head in confusion. Where had Kendall gone?

Griffin groaned as he pushed Logan off of him.

"What?" He spat.

James shook his head and mumbled, "Freight Train."

Griffin straightened when he saw the blood on James' hands. He stood, giving Logan a regretful look before following his bodyguards out of the VIP Room.

Logan was frozen where he sat. It dawned on him that James was still there. He quickly realigned the gun in his waistband. James looked lost, visibly shaken by the turn of events. Logan's throat felt dry as he spoke, "Uh, sorry about your friend."

James shook his head. "He's not my friend." Except it wasn't entirely true. Freight Train had been looking out for him and Kendall since their first day with Griffin.

"It's a dangerous business," He continued, regaining composure. "You don't belong here."

James turned to leave when Logan scoffed behind him. He turned around, growing increasingly frustrated with Logan's presence. "What? You don't believe me? I've seen plenty of guys like you. You're a good fuck, I bet, but nothing more. Move out to LA chasing this lifestyle and it's great at first but the people you're dealing with, Griffin especially, you have no idea what you're in for."

Logan kept quiet. He didn't want this, any of this, this double life, this reputation. All he wanted was revenge.

"Once Griffin loses interest in you, you're lucky if you can make it out of this alive."

"Are you threatening me?" Logan asked.

James stepped forward until he was inches from Logan's face. "No. You're lucky you're cute and I feel nice today. Stay away from Griffin."

Logan nodded, grinning. "You're really arrogant, you know that? I'm not listening to you."

James clenched his fists and repeated, "Stay. Away. From. Griffin."

Logan leaned forward, not backing down. "No."

Surprise registered into James' eyes. Logan's intoxicating scent assaulted him, better than any Cuda product he's ever known. It was sudden. James pulled Logan forward by the back of his neck, crushing his lips against Logan's. As soon as it happened he felt Logan shove him away.

"What the hell?" Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

James shrugged. "You just want money, right? Your rate may be a little high, but there's nothing I can't do. Come on, I can make you cum harder than Griffin ever could."

Logan pulled away when James grabbed for him, repulsed by James' assumptions.

"You're a dick." Logan swallowed thickly. He bolted from the room.

Kendall panted heavily, turning around the hotel lobby in a dizzied frenzy. He'd lost sight of the waiter in the large crowd. Near the entrance, he caught a glimpse of the familiar back. Kendall pushed past the crowd to chase after him. The mysterious waiter threw a leather jacket over his uniform, slipping a helmet onto his head before jumping onto a motorcycle and rushing away.

"Fuck!" Kendall pulled at his hair.

The condo was dark when Logan entered. The silver glow of the moon casted light onto his waiting guest.

"What the hell were you doing?"

Logan doesn't answer. He shrugs off his jacket and clenches his fist, making way into the kitchen for a glass of water.

"You could have gotten yourself killed."

"I could have handled myself." Logan grits.

"No, obviously you could not. If I hadn't caused a distraction, what would you have done? Killed Griffin? There was no way you could have made it out of there alive, Logan."

Logan slams the glass onto the counter. "You think I give a fuck if I made it out of there alive? I just want the fucker dead Carlos!"

"I do too! But nothing is going to change if you kill Griffin. Logan, we've been planning this for years. Now that he's interested in you this is our only chance to get close enough to take down every single person in Griffin's circle. You can't fuck this all up for us just because-"

"Don't you dare say her name."

Carlos shook his head. " Mila's dead. And I'm sorry. But if you're going to be reckless then you're not right for this mission. You're not right for RUSH."

The laptop on the counter between them turned on suddenly with a jolting ring. Carlos looked to Logan before hitting 'accept'.


Gustavo Rocque screamed at them through the monitor. Kelly stood behind him with her head in her hands.


"Sorry." Logan mumbles.


Together, they nodded.

"And you, I told you to stay away from the mission tonight." Gustavo barked.

"They could have seen you, Carlos. They would have recognized you." Kelly added behind him.

Carlos swallowed. "They didn't."

"Kendall, what the hell happened? Where'd you go?"

He didn't look to James, eyes focused only on the spot where the motorcycle had disappeared in the distance.

"Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost."

"I saw him." Kendall whispered.



AN: A few weeks ago someone on Tumblr asked for a mob story where Logan and Carlos are assassins and/or hookers who set out to kill mob bosses James and Kendall. So here we are. I've added Griffin. There will be lots of crime and plenty of developing backstory. Griffin is a creep in this story. If you have any problems with Griffin's involvement with younger guys then I'd suggest you stop reading. I've taken several liberties altering the boys' ages for a more mature spin. I am juggling A Fairytale Ending as well as this story so updates may be less frequent. There will be nine parts total with an epilogue. I've never been this nervous or unsure posting a story before so your feedback would be much, much appreciated.