Bang. Bang. Bang. Three bangs, three people. Down, on the floor. The blood slowly crept out of their head. The three had been hit in the same spot, same way by the same person. The killer pulled his hood up, a small, yet satisfied smirk rested on his lips. The large trench coat he wore made his look suspicious, but the strangers passed by paying no attention. His simple hand held pistol was slipped back into place, tucked in carefully on the folds of his shirt. The large coat he wore helped too cover up the oddly shaped bump.

Turning a sharp left the killer walked into a decent family restaurant. Making no eye contact he headed straight for the pretty blonde headed cashier. Flashing her a charming smile he began to speak in Italian with a hint of an American accent, "Dov'è il bagno?" he had simply asked for the bathroom. A bit flustered by his model like appearance she pointed to the left of the vending machine. "Grazie caro" his voice was smooth as honey as he gave the girl a small wink before turning on his heels and walking straight towards the bathroom.

Wasting no time, he quickly checked the stalls for feet. But luckily he found none. Locking the door before anyone could enter he wasted no time stripping his body of the clothes he wore. His tall six foot four frame shuddered as his warm, socked feet touched the cold, rough tiles. Kale VanHeusen, the odd creation of love between an Asian man and an Italian mother. Kale was always noted as exotic because he possessed beautiful double lidded hazel eyes and dark brown hair with streaks of lighter brown. He had this natural charm about him, every time he smiled he would have a flock of girls swarming around him.

The twenty six year old male quickly changed his get up, he now wore a black long sleeved shirt, he left two or three buttons open as usual. And he had pulled on simple dark denim jeans. He shoved his gun in the trench coat and bundled up his clothes as he unlocked the door. He walked out glancing this way and that, probably a force of habit, as he left. He popped up the collar of the trench coat as he reached outside, it had started to drizzle. The gloomy weather only seemed to enlighten the males mood.

Hearing a buzzing in his pocket his hand snaked in and fished out a cell phone. He squinted his eyes, unable too see the name in the darkness. "Ciao" he said. It was his boss, he listened patiently. "The job is done, I am on my way back" he spoke into the phone. Kale was careful not too give away extra information too the listening ears around him. He would explain once he was back at the "lair".

Putting his phone back in he pulled out a set of silver keys. He walked over to a silver, Maserati convertible. Kale loved fast things, his hot "wheel" set included; two bikes, one with thick tires and one with thin, a Porsche convertible for those hot days that he felt like picking up a few ladies and his old silver Maserati. His Maserati was the most reliable, he had been driving this car since he was almost twenty two. Quickly pulling on his seat belt he quickly revved up the car.

Kale had made sure to put the car at least three blocks from the crime scene. He was always careful when he had jobs too do. The boss couldn't handle loosing another of his best hit-man too the police. The police seemed to be hot on the trail of the Italian mobs boss, Kale was his protector. He drove on in silence, no radio, only the faint pitter-patter of the rain.