„So many years, so many jobs together, Counselor,“ the Boss said to his right-hand man as they cruised down a shady street in the heart of Athens. They slipped into their usual haunt, the kind of joint where whispers mean business and the air’s thick with danger. After laying low for a minute, the Boss was itching to dive back into the game. Word on the street was that Cyprus held some untold, fat stacks of hidden loot. Drinks in hand, the Boss leaned in, “Where we stand on the plan?” He’d tasked the Counselor a few days back to round up a crew of heavy hitters—guns for hire who could pull off the big score. “All systems go, Boss. Got the nod from the crew. They know the play and they’re sharp, waiting to hit the streets.”

Fixing the Counselor with a sharp gaze, the Boss asked tense, “Who you got in mind?” “Giorgio, Koger, and Wingfield.” A long pause fell. Memories flashed through the Boss’s mind. He knew those three killers well—legends from an old mafia crew in the south suburbs. Their hits had shaped the whole Athens underworld to how it looks today. Giorgio, the ultimate multi-tasker and heavy hitter, an old Boss who’d bring grit and unity to the crew. Koger, aka “Joker,” brought a bag of tricks and a skill set that nobody else had, filling the crew’s arsenal with moves nobody saw coming. Wingfield was a freelance hitman, smooth as silk, steady and confident in every shady night deal. “I’m with you, Counselor. This team? Nothing but wins coming,” the Boss said, snapping back from the flashback. “But there’s one more thing—we need a link in Cyprus. We can’t just roll in and wreck the place without a solid connection.” “Got not one, but three,” the Counselor shot back smoothly, ready for this turn of their conversation. “First is ‘Tony’—the island’s most notorious hitter. Old pro on projects like this, been in touch since the beginning. He’s also well-plugged into every nightclub’s dancefloor.” “The second’s Tasos. Quiet, doesn’t bother with fancy methods, but make no mistake, his moves would turn the whole crew pale.” “Third’s ‘Stay-K.’ Runs all the circuits in Cyprus. The island’s Boss, no question. He’s mapped out every spot we hit and he’s bringing his photo-camera to capture the evidence of our strike—no sloppy business.” They threw on their coats and stepped out, walking out of the bar with a killer confidence. Their hit was gonna be legend, etched in the minds of everyone forever…