Continental Hotel

New York

The mobile phone in Daniel Collins' jacket pocket buzzed. After a few seconds to put down his bourbon he checked the display. After reading it once an incredulous look he couldn't believe it. He had heard the rumours but he now knew. John Wick was now excommunicado and had a Fourteen Million Dollar bounty on his head...

Placing the phone back into his jacket, he took a sip of his drink again. He knew that he wouldn't entertain any idea of going after the bounty. Unless he had a death wish. He would just continue to make sure he kept his head low while the fireworks go off around him.

Being only twenty he had been in the business only a few months, being drawn into the business due to his father who had trained him in his techniques since he was a child. Currently at present he was in Philadelphia on a contract which Daniel knew would always be a tough assignment due to his reputation as an established assassin. He saw him occasionally but their jobs always meant it was only a fleeting passing mostly. Swallowing the rest of his drink he sat back.

Now however between contracts, Daniel could afford to stay at the Continental and recharge before he would be ready to start again. Shifting he could feel the Ruger P89 Pistol sitting in its holster, which had recently acquired from the Gun Service in the hotel. The rules at the Continental meant he was in no danger, which meant he could relax in comfort.

Raising a hand he called over a waiter. "Excuse me may I have some food?"

The waiter flashed a smile. "Certainly what you would like Mister Collins?"

"Can I have a medium rare sirloin with steamed vegetables and fries, with a nice Merlot please."

"Of course sir" came the reply. Daniel watched the waiter walk away before pulling towards him the newspaper in front of him. Inside was the news of the deaths of Russian gangster Viggo Tarasov and his son Iosef Tarasov. It was a known secret that John Wick had been behind it, but other than that there was not many details. The paper didn't seem to yield many more either apart from several theories, mostly about inter-gang warfare.

After a few more minutes his meal arrived, which he would eat in silence.

–

Out in New York however, the streets were in chaos. The death of Viggo Tarasov and his son had crippled the Tarasov Mob as there was now no clear successor. It was now only thirty hours after their deaths and it had already began to tear itself apart. One man had a plan to stake his claim to the now vacant territory and businesses once held by the Tarasov Mob. His name was Nicolai Palenkov.

He was now in the bar Viggo Tarasov had only been in a day or so earlier, nursing a glass of vodka. His mood was jubilant as he had managed within hours to gain a decent portion of former Tarasov members under his command using his contacts and allies. He could never have all the territory, but with his new organisation the Palenkov Mob, he was already making plans to build his power base. However though that would take some time, he was nothing but a patient man. His main short term aim was to get cash and money wherever he could.

By any means necessary he would become a force to be reckoned with in New York City...

–

Daniel had finished his meal and was now making his way back to his room. It was now around eleven pm and he needed to do some things before he finally would sleep.