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A Thing of Beauty

The sleek machine is a thing of beauty, it's red body flows through his imagination. He is a teenager the first time he sees the car being driven by the boss. It's the motivation for all that is to come.

He starts as a runner, the same as everyone. Days of casual brutality and effort, violence as normal as breathing. Turf wars are always nasty. The risk of physical pain keeps the legs quick, the risk of arrest keeps the mind quick, how it's always been done. You either rise up or get torched. Better to be the one holding the flame-thrower. Those pieces of shit deserve everything they get.

He rises up the ranks, deception, betrayal and murder are just a part of the process, to be expected. Like clocking in for the day. He has a talent for killing, death and pain do not bother him at all, no feelings either way. All those childhood beatings were good for something. When Dad would go to town on him some days, it took a week to walk straight again. Mum was even colder. Taught him a thing or two. Some of these young lads fall apart after their first time, they haven't the guts for it.

As he ages, he perfects the art of discretion. Murder from afar. Much more respectable than getting your hands dirty every time. Let the young lads get into the thick of it. He learns that a man's weakness is a good place to start, any weakness will do. The more obscure it is, the more creative you can get. Go in at a different angle, keep them off-guard and they drop like flies.

He becomes the boss, unrivalled, with a loyal crew. He has no weaknesses. Even his old fantasy has diminished, the antique vehicle. Cars drive themselves these days, petrol a rare and pricey commodity. And where would he drive the bloody thing? He'd get pulled over within minutes. Not a good move for the boss to make.

But the desire endures. His right-hand man Jenson understands, he gets it. It's a beautiful machine.  And why shouldn't he drive it? He's the fucking boss after all. Jenson sets it all up, gets her ready to go. He slips into leather interior, a satisfying weight to the controls. Revving her up, she growls. His old dream come true, driving her out at long last!

Jenson waves the boss off on his final journey then adroitly thumbs the controls hidden in his jacket pocket. The car bomb detonates. The crew lose their fucking minds as expected, screaming bloody retribution against an unknown enemy. They'll tire themselves out soon. Before they're finished, he'll be the new boss. He learned a thing or two from the old timer, like how to use a weakness.

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