Two men, two shovels, two guns, a knife, and a body, that's what was carried on the boat that night. There was no talking, just the quiet boat ride through the darkness. A light flicked on, and two cigarettes were lit.

"Who was he?" says one. He stands behind the wheel. He doesn't even bother to look behind him, where the body was still wrapped in plastic.

"A greedy fuck," answered the other.

"Tried to screw you?"

"Something like that."

A nod and a little laughter was heard. This was their life. It didn't seem to occur to them that this was probably not something to laugh at, but what were they going to do. They were both far too good at this; far too used to the routine that lead up to this point. Did the person have friends? Can I cover it up? Who do I know who will be effected? Will I have to take care of them as well? Are they worth it? It really came down to that, what is to be gained if the person is out of the picture and will it be worth my time and effort to do so.

The more skilled you are, the more the weight tips towards the other. So many people are easy to forget and the ones that usually tip the scale...are the ones that already burned more bridges than they created. The value of life becomes cheaper the more they alienate themselves from others...especially when they think they are surrounded by friends.