Dominic slowly lifted the paper napkin away from his face, peering at the blood spattered on it. He waited a few moments for the persistent dripping to begin again, but his nosebleed had apparently been staunched. He wiped the crusted blood from his chin away with the rest of the napkin, then crumpled it up and pushed it to the far end of the table. Third nosebleed today. He took a long drink from the glass of water the waitress had brought him. The cold made his teeth hurt. He leaned forward with his elbows on the table and rubbed the swollen lumps on the sides of his neck with his index fingers.

He'd needed to get out of his apartment again. He didn't want to be surrounded by any reminder of the life he was losing. Lifting his head, he looked out the window and watched the large, orange disk of the sun start its descent over the buildings and rooftops of Demaitre. The pollutants in the air brought out so much more color, even as they filled people lungs with smog, slowly suffocating them. Not that there's anything beautiful about what's killing me.

"Sir? May I take your order?" The waitress approached him, dressed in a cutesy little retro uniform, her name tag pronouncing to the world that her name was Trisha. She smiled at him, notebook and Bic pen in hand.

"Um... I think I need another minute. Thanks." He hadn't even looked at the menu yet. He'd been sitting here for nearly twenty minutes sipping his complimentary water. And trying not to bleed on everything. The waitress smiled, then flounced off, just as the door swung open with the tinkling sound of a bell.

Dominic looked up, wondering if it might be someone he knew...

Godwyn opened the door to Mel's Diner and slowly opened the door. His foot steps echoed through the whole establishment as he walked over to his target's table. He choose not to just pull out his Desert Eagle right now and put and 50. Caliber hole right through Ivan Nichlov's eye. Instead he sat down at a table across from Dominic and three way from Ivan.

He wore a suit cut widely in the shoulders to hide his two holsters that carried a 50. Caliber desert eagle and a 9mm pistol with a silencer attachment. He picked up the paper that was in front of him the head line story Adrian Cummings dead! Godwyn smiled as he read the description of the death Adrian’s armored limo was destroyed yesterday when the gas tank exploded, "no evidence of why the gas exploded was found" said sergeant Johnson of the Demaitre police department. Of cource you didn't find anything Godwyn thought [I]A 50.