May 23, 1943 - New York City
Tommy could understand Jimmy's fear. Thinking back on his answer to Patton's ringing question in his mind.
'To survive, to thrive, and to win.'
This was just another step in survival. He hadn't planned on this, but when he came across a shady guy at the harbor earlier and eventually found the drugs, he couldn't afford to walk away from something so lucrative. Tommy knew he could thrive in a war with the kind of ability he had, but what would happen when it ended?
He never wanted to spend his entire life in the military. A backup plan—that's what he needed. These thoughts spun through his mind as memories of a while ago vividly replayed in his mind.
The sharp smell of tobacco filled his senses. He took a long drag, the smoke swirling around him before being swept away by the gentle breeze that crept through the abandoned church, carrying his thoughts with it.
It had only been a few hours since he had stepped off the troop transport ship, returning to New York along with a handful of other soldiers. The harbor was as busy as it gets despite the fading daylight, with dim lamps scattered across the docks providing enough light for people to find their way.
"You got a pack?"
A voice broke through the bustling harbor noise. Tommy turned to see Arthur, clad in his soldier uniform, standing beside him. He, on the other hand, wore a flat cap, a long overcoat, and a tailored suit.
"This is my last one," he replied before taking a slow drag from his cigarette and letting the smoke curl into the chilly air.
"I barely got any sleep with that storm raging. Give it to me..."
Arthur's face twisted into annoyance, but it didn't move him in the slightest as he shot back, "I haven't had much sleep either, Arthur. I'll hold on to it."
"Fuck that, just hand it over!"
There had been a massive storm just a few hours before they docked at the harbor. It was quite a major one, and staying inside the troop transport ship felt like a fever dream.
Arthur furrowed his eyebrows seeing Tommy didn't even bulge an inch before sighing as he looked at the busy harbor. Arthur scrunched up his nose and took a sniff before suddenly speaking, "It smells like New York..."
Arthur then turned to Tommy, grumbling, "And look at you, dressed like you're going to some fancy club, while I'm stuck here making sure all the supplies and equipment get unloaded. Must be nice, huh? Just heading home while I'm busting my ass."
A smirk tugged at Tommy's lips. He clapped Arthur on the shoulder and said, "Do a good job, Sergeant."
"Yeah, yeah. Go fuck yourself..." Arthur waved him off, shaking his head as he trudged back toward the ship to oversee the unloading process.
Although Tommy's rank was far higher, when off duty, Arthur could say whatever he wanted to him, and Tommy himself wouldn't mind, as he didn't care much for formalities. The rest of the members of his former squad had gone back to New York together. However, Bucky seemed to be quite late since the guy boarded a different ship. These guys had been promoted to sergeant, which wasn't bad at all for most soldiers.
"It does smell like New York..." Tommy murmured as the briny scent of the harbor filled his nostrils.
He walked across the cobblestones, his boots hitting the uneven pavement with a thud as men's shouts, crates, and distant chatter overwhelmed his senses. He barely noticed the faces around him—until he bumped into someone with a thud.
Tommy furrowed his brow, not saying a word as he looked at the person he had bumped into. The man, disheveled and ragged, met his gaze with wary eyes but said nothing. Tommy's eyes narrowed in curiosity as he saw a familiar glint peeking out from beneath the man's worn clothes.
'A bum with a gun?' Tommy thought, noting another man who seemed to be with the bum. The oil-stained clothes looked quite familiar, and he thought, 'And a cargo handler?'
He watched as the bum immediately stood up and walked alongside the cargo handler. Tommy quietly observed as the bum glanced over his shoulder before both men disappeared into the dark. He took another drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke curl around him before exhaling slowly, "That is some weird combination..."
The crowd at the harbor was busy with their activities, not noticing Tommy's figure disappearing around the corner as he followed the suspicious men. Tommy found himself navigating through a maze of dimly lit streets and shadowy alleyways leading away from the harbor.
The fog seemed to obscure the eerily quiet street as he pulled out his handgun, his senses on high alert as he kept close to the walls.
"How did you even fucking survive that?"
He heard the sharp voice as he quietly followed. Tommy edged to the corner of the alley and peered around it. Through the dim light filtering from the street, he saw the bum and the cargo handler hurrying along together.
"I don't know," the cargo handler replied. "God hates me."
"For sure..."
Tommy's gaze followed them closely until they came to a halt. His sharp eyes caught sight of a wooden container, and he noticed the bum's shock as he cursed under his breath, "Fuck? This much? I thought you'd only bring a few."
The cargo handler's voice was annoyed, "That's why I told you to call more men, you dumbass."
"I'm on a fucking job. I can't just casually drop everything and call for backup without a solid reason. Besides, how am I supposed to know you'd bring this many drugs with just a rescue boat?"
"You won't, but it happened anyway. This should be enough reason. So what's the plan now?"
'Drugs?'
The word echoed in Tommy's mind. He watched as the bum muttered, "Fuck, of course. I need to go back and find some backup. This container could be worth a lot of money..."
Tommy scanned the quiet alleyway around him. The steady approach of footsteps put him on high alert. Judging by the conversation alone, he knew these two had no one knowing their location. And in such a secluded alley like this, Tommy clearly understand he could take action without causing a commotion.
'Should I do it?'
He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should take this chance or not. But then, reflecting on the wisdom he'd once heard, A crime only occurs when there's an opportunity to commit it.
The wisdom resonated with him now as he silently repeated, 'A lot of money, huh?'
Tommy straightened his back and tightened his grip on his gun. The coldness of the walls touching his neck. It stirred his mind awake as the footsteps grew closer and closer. Taking a deep breath, he silently moved his arm, aiming at where the men would appear as he quietly strengthen his resolve, 'There is no turning back now...'
Time felt stretched as if he had been waiting for hours. His eyes coldly watched as the bum and the cargo handler appeared right in front of him. Noticing his presence along with a gun pointed at them, their eyes widened in shock as they both shouted, "Fuc—!"
Bang! Bang!
The sounds echoed sharply through the alley as Tommy felt his perspective snap back to normal.
He had pulled the trigger twice before they could react, causing both men to collapse, their bodies crumpling to the ground in pain. He then swiftly moved toward the bum, who was clutching his bleeding stomach and tossing the gun strapped beneath his worn clothes aside.
"You son of a—Mhmmpp!"
Tommy shoved the barrel of his gun into the bum's mouth as he turned to the cargo handler, who swallowed hard upon seeing the gun deep in his friend's mouth. He quietly whispered, "Here's how it works: I have a simple rule. You answer my questions only after I ask. Understood?"
"I assume you do, so now, first question: What are these drugs?"
Taking the gun away from the bum to allow him to respond, Tommy saw the bum's anger-filled eyes as the man sneered at him and replied, "You wis—!"
Bang!
The echo of the gunshot rang through the alley, amplifying the cargo handler's fear. Turning his gaze at the bum, Tommy spoke to the cargo handler, "Remember the rules, yes?"
The cargo handler's face went pale as he nodded frantically. Tommy could see the fear clearly in those shaking eyes as he nodded, "Good. Now, first question..."
Tommy began his rounds of questioning about what was inside the container. As he connected all the dots from the conversation he had overheard earlier, he looked at the terrified man and spoke,
"So, you people decided to dump all the goods during the storm because someone suspected a leak of information?"
"Y-Yes. We had others on a rescue boat, but I'm the only one who made it back alive."
"No, you're mistaken."
"Pardon?"
Tommy's gaze drifted to the wooden container, its surface dimly illuminated by the moonlight. He scanned the darkened alley, wary of any potential witnesses, then turned back to the cargo handler, whose eyes were wide with dread. He whispered, "You're dead in the storm. Nobody came back alive..."
"N-No, no! Wait, wait! Fuck! Do you know who you're mess—!!"
Bang!
Another gunshot rang out, silencing the cargo handler mid-sentence.
Tommy looked at the corpse as he thought of a frind who coincidentally worked as a 'cleaner' and might also know what was going on with the drugs. Given the paranoia and the lengths to which the one behind the container went to protect their cargo, it seemed likely that someone important was involved. He knew it meant danger, but it also meant that whatever it was, the drug was far more valuable than normal drugs.
"Do I fucking know who I was messing with?" Tommy repeated the question as he looked at the corpses before him. He then turned to look at the wooden container and continued, "I don't fucking care..."
They might belong to a powerful mafia group, but Tommy couldn't care less about which group it might be.
"Why? It belongs to a mafia group; it's fine, Jimmy."
Jesse's voice cut through Tommy's thoughts, jolting him back to the present. He glanced over at the 'cleaner,' who had helped him dispose of the bodies and move the drugs. The 'cleaner' leaned casually against the side of the truck, letting him convince Jimmy.
Tommy turned to look at Jimmy, who stared at the drugs with a mix of horror and disbelief. "Goodness, it's even worse!"
"Pftt—Ahahaha!"
Tommy burst into laughter, unable to contain himself at Jimmy's reaction. His mind grew clearer along with his laughter as he said, "Come on, Jimmy. I appreciate your concern, but what can they do? Call the cops on me? For stealing their drugs?"
Jimmy's mouth fell open as he struggled to find a rebuttal. It was clear he was at a loss for words. The police were unlikely to get involved since it involved illegal stuff in the first place, unless these groups wanted to dig their own graves. But he knew it wasn't enough to convince Jimmy.
"Jimmy, look at these," Tommy said, placing a hand on Jimmy's shoulder and guiding him to view the blue crystals spread out before them. He then turned to Jesse and asked, "How much do you think they're worth?"
"If we sell them right off the bat? Five million dollars should be easy."
His own annual salary was only $5,000 as a lieutenant colonel, Tommy knew just how ridiculous that sum of money was as he leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "But what if we sell them the right way?"
"W-what?"
Jimmy's eyes widened as Jesse continued, "If you handle it properly, ten million dollars is the minimum."
"Ten million dollars..."
Tommy murmured. He glanced up at the blue sky, his usually vacant and unfocused eyes now glinting with a dangerous kind of greed. "These crystals, Jimmy—they're not a sin. It's ten million fucking dollars. That money would be enough to revive this once-abandoned church, to bring back the believers, and turn it into a thriving place of worship."
"Jesus Christ..." Jimmy's voice cracked. It was as if he felt the very temptation of the devil whispering in his ear, urging him toward a sinfully lucrative deal. Tommy reveled in the role, leaning in further as he continued to tempt, "Oh, come on, Jimmy. You don't believe in Jesus. If you did, you'd be taking better care of the church. You just want people to come to the church and look up to you. You want status, Jimmy."
"Tommy, stop—"
"You'll never believe in Jesus, Jimmy."
Tommy could see the desperation in Jimmy's eyes as the guy weakly whispered, "Tommy, please!"
"Jimmy!"
Tommy shouted, his voice piercing through Jimmy's eardrums. The force of his words left Jimmy slightly disoriented. His intense gaze met Jimmy's gray eyes as he whispered once more, "You may never believe in Him. But you can always believe in me, Jimmy. That status you so desired, it's right in front of your very eyes..."
"I-I..." Jimmy's voice faltered as he looked at the blue crystals in the wooden container. He swallowed hard, his resolve crumbling. With a heavy heart, the believer of Jesus fell on his knees, mumbling, "Oh, Lord, please forgive me..."
Jimmy had succumbed to temptation, and Tommy now had perfect storage for the blue crystals.
---
Do understand that it was 1943. A salary of $5,000 annually will give you a good life during the time especially when it was only a few years after the Great Depression.