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CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR
°°° Watch Your Tongue °°°

• Central City, Philadelphia •

The early hours of Tuesday morning were oddly misty. The howling winds were an uncommon phenomenon during the summer.

In a rented apartment with the three fellows he had picked to keep him company, the bald Russian mafia boss, Boris Romanoff, sat in the living room watching the news with a cup of hot chocolate in his hand.

"Good morning boss," the blonde Russell greeted me as he entered the living room.

On the table, Boris had littered a number of newspapers, all of which held a similar headline, the same as the news highlight the newscaster was breaking down. The topic of the attack was a number of military personnel.

"Who the fuck is dumb enough to attack the military, though?" Russell laughed and sat down. "I mean, don’t they realize that they would be starting a war with the government?" I mean, these aren’t cops. The government will definitely be pressured to act. "Whoever ordered the attacks and the ones tha
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