Underworld Ties

Old Friends, New Problems

A week had passed since Bobby's unforgettable engagement to Nicole, and life at Mercer Distilling Co. was in full swing. Business was booming, and the community response to his latest whiskey release had been overwhelmingly positive. However, the peace was about to be interrupted by a familiar face from his past.

One evening, as Bobby was cleaning up after a busy day, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the screen and saw "Tony 'The Shark' Russo." A wave of apprehension washed over him. He had been hoping to leave that life behind, but it seemed the past wasn't ready to let him go just yet.

"Yeah?" Bobby answered, trying to sound casual.

"Bobby! My man! We've got a situation that needs your special touch," Tony said, excitement crackling in his voice.

"What kind of situation?" Bobby asked, already dreading the answer.

"Let me break it down for you. We're planning a big score—a shipment coming in from Canada. It's worth a fortune, and we need someone with your savvy to help us pull it off."

Bobby felt a knot form in his stomach. "Tony, I'm not interested in that anymore. I've got a life now—a legitimate business, a fiancée. I can't just drop everything for some crazy mission."

"Come on, Bobby! This is some high-stakes stuff! You know we wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. Plus, there's a little something in it for you—a cut that could pay for that dream wedding you're planning!" Tony's voice was a mix of charm and persuasion.

Bobby sighed deeply, torn. He wanted to say no, but the lure of old promises and the thrill of danger gnawed at him. "Fine. I'll hear you out, but I'm not committing to anything."

"Great! Meet us at the old warehouse on 5th. We'll go over the details there. And bring your A-game, because things are about to get real!" Tony hung up before Bobby could protest further.

As he drove to the warehouse, Bobby's mind raced with memories of the old days—run-ins with rival gangs, daring escapes, and the wild camaraderie of his crew. But he had changed. He was no longer the reckless kid looking for thrills. He was a businessman, a fiancé, and soon-to-be husband. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "What am I getting into?"

When he arrived at the warehouse, he was greeted by the familiar sight of his old gang members, a motley crew that hadn't changed much. They were all gathered around a makeshift table, maps and diagrams strewn about like they were planning a military operation.

"Bobby! There he is!" Tony exclaimed, clapping him on the back, nearly knocking him off balance. "We're just going over the plan. This is gonna be epic!"

Bobby raised an eyebrow, scanning the group. "Alright, what's the deal?"

Tony cleared his throat dramatically. "So, here's the scoop: we're intercepting a shipment of high-end electronics coming through the docks. It's a goldmine, and we'll be set for life!"

"Electronics? You mean, like TVs and laptops?" Bobby asked, incredulous. "What, are we turning into tech thieves now?"

"Hey, don't knock it! It's all about diversifying our portfolio," Tony shot back, puffing out his chest. "And we've got the muscle to pull it off."

At that moment, a gang member named Ricky stepped forward, trying to look tough but failing miserably. He was holding a gun awkwardly, like it was a foreign object he'd never seen before. Bobby squinted, trying to assess the situation.

"Uh, Ricky, is that how you hold a gun?" Bobby asked, stifling a laugh. "You look like you're trying to swat a fly."

Ricky blinked, confused. "What do you mean? This is how you do it, right?" He awkwardly pointed the gun toward the ceiling, causing Bobby's heart to drop.

"Whoa, whoa! Don't point that thing up there! You might shoot a hole in the roof, and then we'll be dealing with a whole other mess!" Bobby exclaimed, stepping back. "You realize that's a gun, right? Not a toy?"

"I thought it was supposed to look cool!" Ricky protested, his face turning red as the others laughed.

"Cool? You look like you're about to take a picture at a family reunion!" Bobby shot back, shaking his head in disbelief. "If we're going to do this, we need to handle the weapons like professionals. You can't just go waving that around like it's your grandma's purse!"

Tony chuckled, slapping Ricky on the back. "Don't worry, Bobby. Ricky's just a little rusty. He's been spending too much time on TikTok instead of at the range."

"Yeah, well, if he keeps holding that thing like a butter knife, we're all going to end up in the hospital!" Bobby grumbled, trying to keep his cool. "Alright, let's focus here. What's the plan, and what do I need to do?"

Tony nodded, gathering everyone's attention. "We'll need a distraction at the docks. Bobby, you'll be our eyes on the ground. We want you to scout out the area and let us know when the shipment arrives. Then we strike!"

"Easy enough," Bobby replied, though the weight of the decision hung heavy on his shoulders. He knew he was straddling a dangerous line, but the adrenaline was starting to kick in.

As they went over the details, Bobby couldn't help but crack jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "Alright, let's make sure we don't end up on the news as the gang that got caught because Ricky was practicing his 'cool pose' with the gun."

The room erupted in laughter, and Ricky shrugged, trying to save face. "Hey, you can't blame me for wanting to look good!"

"Looking good won't save you from a bullet, Ricky!" Bobby shot back, grinning. "We need to be smarter than that. Think of this like a heist movie, but without all the cheesy one-liners."

"Like Ocean's Eleven?" Tony chimed in.

"More like Ocean's Eleven meets a bad episode of 'Cops,'" Bobby replied, shaking his head. "Just remember to keep your heads down and your eyes open. We can do this if we stick together."

As the group finalized their plans, Bobby felt a rush of nostalgia mixed with anxiety. He knew this mission was risky, but the camaraderie of his old gang was intoxicating. He had to remind himself that he was no longer that reckless kid, but a man with a family and responsibilities.

"Alright, let's do this!" Bobby declared, raising his fist for a group cheer. "And Ricky, for the love of all that's holy, practice holding that gun correctly before we leave!"

With laughter echoing through the warehouse, Bobby felt a strange mix of excitement and dread. This mission would test everything he had learned in his journey from a reckless youth to a responsible adult. But he was ready to dive back in, if only for a night. After all, what could possibly go wrong?