An upmarket restaurant played host to the hero of the city that evening. Troy Terrific sat at the premier table with the best view from the skyscraper restaurant, a chilled glass of white wine at his right and a selection of artisan bread sticks to his left. Big band jazz came from the stage, setting his foot tapping and his fingers snapping to the beat.
From the double doors through to the kitchen the waiter came bearing a trolley with his beef consommé, his started of choice. An excellent use of shin meat and delivered piping hot.
Troy Terrific had a good head on his broad shoulder, his square jaw setting with resolve as he felt the situation around him change. In the reflection of his wine glass he could see a figure approach, head shaved and hand in their pocket. A quick glance to the window gave him a slightly better picture of the approaching threat. While their clothes were fine, their soul was stained. Troy bided his time, looking to all the world like a man looking over the booming beauty of Los Estrella, The Star of the West Coast.
The consommé arrived just in time. As the waiter lifted it from the tray, Troy Terrific’s toned hand sent the bowl and its contents lashing out with a single blow. Beefy broth struck true, the man clutching at his face. The jeweled dagger he drew from his pocket clattered to the floor as he collapsed, rolling about in agony.
“That man meant me harm.” Troy’s voice cut through the silence of the room, the rich and masculine timbre resonating through the hearts of those around him.
“I will summon the police immediately, Mister Terrific.” The waiter spoke quickly. “And order you another starter.”
All charm, Troy lifted his wine glass up in toast. “Cheers.”
Lorenzo Vano crumbled the newspaper in his hands and hurled the offending article into the open log fire. “Send word back to the old country!” He called out to the lineup of men stood in smart suits behind him. “I need the best of the best to deal with this threat to our organization.”
As Lorenzo’s seconds filed out of the room, Lorenzo poured himself a drink. “Soup won’t save you next time, Troy.” He muttered darkly before taking a slow sip to calm his nerves.