[attr="class","mittag"]

Alphonse Gambino

[attr="class","mitmain"]

This time there was no limousine.[break][break]

No broken windows to intimidate a tavern owner. A distinct absence of ride-along gym leaders sharing their passion with a mob boss. And there certainly weren't any kidnapped princesses this time around. It was all so different to Minuit. His lazy expression remained the same even in his solitude - he had told his men to wait for him at the rental car. It was a small truck with chains around the tires to make driving in snow more tolerable - but it wouldn't have held up for very long by itself. Minuit was by himself now - truly alone and able to clearly think for the first time in a good while.[break][break]

So... I finally had to bend my knee after all. But I suppose a bent knee is better than being six feet under.[break][break]

No. He didn't really believe that. The words of a song floated back to him - and though no expression crossed his face, he did let his teeth come together more firmly around his cigar.[break][break]

"For what is a man, what has he got?[break]
If not himself, then he has naught.[break]
To say the things he truly feels.[break]
And not words of one who kneels.[break]
The record shows~ [break]
I took the blows![break]
And did it my way!"[break][break]

Alphonse had done it his way most of his life - and now he was forced to play someone else's ball game.[break][break]

He wasn't just a coach anymore - he was back on the field proper, and working under someone else. It grated him a bit - private thoughts he would never voice. Because despite his hatred of submitting to the Rocket Boss for a few meager accolades - keeping unilateral control over his own faction, being given amnesty, and being allowed to refuse orders that would harm children - he knew it was necessary. It was just good business. He couldn't let his personal pride unmake all he had worked for - all his new family had accomplished. It would insult the labors of not only himself but the others who served beneath him. [break][break]

The one thing he cared about as much as personal power for himself was his family.[break][break]

His eyes opened - and he realized that a cold, single trail of wetness chilled his cheek. And his eyes did briefly change now - they widened in surprise. He hadn't cried in years - but the idea of his syndicate crumbling completely because of him...[break][break]

Even mob bosses have fears, it would seem.[break][break]

He reached up one huge hand and wiped away the single tear - and he glared at it as though it had insulted his mother's pasta.[break][break]

But as he stood there - a lone figure in the blistering cold - he suddenly grew alert. And his eyes roved from one side to the other. He didn't actually move- but his periphery was scanned as he head slightly turned on a precise, machine swivel.[break][break]

Something's there... but what?

[attr="class","mitpoke"]