The Hit

Frank opened the note while he was walking down the stairs, "642, Winchester Avenue. 5'9 white middle-aged man."

The information was short and sweet, but Vito was right, this was all he needed to know to do his job.

It was late at night, so chances were the guy was at home, sleeping. Frank wasn't gonna count on a window being left open for him to climb into, so he planned on buying a gas can to do the job.

Vito wanted the guy dead, but he didn't say that he should go quietly. Sometimes it's about sending a message.

Frank had no clue if the address was nearby or not, so he couldn't buy the gas can yet. He wouldn't be able to sneak it in the taxi, so he had to find one nearby after he got off.

It was getting quite late, but he found a taxi 10 minutes down the road. He got in and said, "How you doing pal? Take me to Winchester Avenue."

The taxi driver was a fit young man, he looked like he was only a couple of years older than Frank.

The guy was sharp too, Frank noticed that the guy could smell the gunpowder residue on him, which was probably why he was so respectful to a young kid, "You got it friend."

After a 20 minute drive, the taxi finally stopped, "We're here, Winchester Avenue. That'd be 2 dollars and 25 cents."

Only now did it set in for Frank just how useful being able to drive was. If he was gonna continue along this line of business, he couldn't go around finding taxi after taxi each time.

That said, for little info jobs like this, he needed to know the city well enough too. That would come with time, but he didn't have time.

He needed someone who knew the city well and didn't have loose lips.

Funnily enough, a taxi driver was just what he needed and the guy driving him now fit the bill. He looked like he didn't talk much, and he was young enough to be able to respect Frank too.

This was a low-risk bet for Frank. If it worked out, he wouldn't need to worry about transportation. If it didn't, well, the guy would have nothing on him anyway.

His responsibility would be to drive him from point A to point B and back. He would probably connect the dots about what was happening after a while, but knowing meant nothing without evidence.

With nothing to lose, Frank decided to give it a shot. "No problem pal. Listen, stay here for a while, I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

Frank gave him the money and got out the car. He had 12 bucks left on him after he left the bar, which he was glad he decided to bring today.

It would become chump change to him in a couple of weeks, but for now that was all his savings left after buying the M1991.

Frank found the address after a couple of minutes and found that it was a small, white 2 story house.

There was a store and a gas station nearby too, perfect for Frank. With the money he had left, he bought a lighter and a gas canister from the store and filled it up at the gas station across from it.

He was left with 6 bucks and 10 cents after that, more than enough for the taxi trip back home.

Frank carried the gas can by putting it inside his jacket so nobody could see what exactly he was carrying and walked to the house.

The lights were off on the first floor, but there looked to still be some movement on the second.

He couldn't see a car parked in front, which was a big relief for him because he wasn't planning on his reward for the job becoming collateral damage.

The note didn't say anything about the guy having a family, so after seeing movement Frank didn't feel the need to confirm who it was.

If Vito was dumb enough to not mention something like that, it wasn't Frank's fault anyway. With that in mind, Frank walked up to the front door and started pouring out the gas canister.

He started at the door and circled the house from there. He made sure to pour some of it at head-level height from time to time to make the house burn quicker.

After he was done, he walked backwards while pouring gas along the way and stopped after he was out of the front yard. He turned the lighter on and dropped it in the grass.

Frank wasn't worried about his target jumping out a window and escaping, because by the time the guy even noticed anything, the 1st floor of the house would be in flames and there would be no getting out of there.

Compared to the first floor of the house though, the yard surrounding the house would be up in flames in no time.

Frank started walking back to where he left the taxi at and saw the house in flames just as he was about to turn the corner.

The distant screams probably woke the whole neighborhood, but it was too late for anyone to do anything.

Frank was sure the plan was solid, but the screams did give him comfort that his first hit went without a hitch.

After a couple of minutes, he made his way back to the taxi and sure enough, it was still there. The guy decided to listen to Frank and wait for him, much to his satisfaction.

You couldn't see the smoke from here yet, especially if the guy stayed in the taxi the whole time.

Frank got in the back of the taxi, "Thanks for waiting pal. Take me to Linden Ave now."

"No problem."

… After some 30 minutes of driving back, the taxi finally arrived.

"We're here. That's 3 dollars, friend."

Frank took out 5 bucks from his jacket pocket and handed it to the taxi driver, "Take it, a little extra for your troubles."

"It was nothing, I could have used a break anyway."

Frank smiled, "Just a little show of gratitude.

"If I wanted to get a taxi ride from you again, how would I go about finding you?"

"Well, If I'm not driving someone around or if I'm on break, you can find me parked in the same spot as earlier."

"Okay. I'll take you up on that sometime soon."

Frank got out of the taxi and before shutting the door, he said, "I'm Frank by the way, nice to meet you."

"Anthony, nice to meet you too."