1989, October 29.
Sunny.
Not a good day to go out.
Dragan had been living it up lately; he brought weapons to the gang, led an attack on an enemy gang's "Gold-digger's Den", and even made it on TV. Though it was a wanted poster offering a reward, the fame-seeking Dragan was quite inflated by this.
Unfortunately...
All the surveillance showed were figures wearing hoods.
Initially, he was planning to take his boys for a massage, but Casare called to tell him to get his guns serviced.
And he emphasized, "For free!"
Those two words didn't seem to match with Mexico at all, and Dragan couldn't help asking, "You're not fooling me, are you?"
"How could I? We're cousins, and even if I were to deceive others, would I deceive you? We've got some new gun oil from the Soviet Union that supposedly improves barrel heat tolerance. You're a big buyer, so you get to use it for free in advance."
