Prohibition is at its high point. Alcohol is banned all across the United States, and millions want their fix. Cops, Mafisos, the Feds, they all slept together in an orgy of lies, money, bribes, and hits. The Cops and Feds allowed the Mafia to run rampant; the Mafia had them in their pocket. They were bought out, and corruption was at it's high. The year is 1930, and the mob owns Chicago.

Nick D'Amico is a small, unimportant soldier for the Corelli family. He joined in 1929, when his father, the top man in the family was whacked by a bunch of mobsters from the Santuri family. During a late night mission, his father was moving a shipment of Canadian Whiskey. His partner, Tom DiLeo, who became a made man for the Santuri's, sold him out. Nick's father was shot 4 times with a Lupada, the sawed off shotgun, and left for dead at the side of a road.

It's been a year, and a full-scale war has erupted between the Corellis and the Santruis. Every day, the papers were full of stories pertaining to hits. It seemed like every day a new person was killed. The next another. It was a see-saw battle between the two of them, it seemed like no side would ever win. One day, Mr. Corelli called Nick into his office in his bar.

"Nick! It's great to see you!" he said. Nick knew right away that Corelli wanted something done. "I need your help."

"Yes sir, what is it?"

"Santuri is moving a bunch of Canadian Whiskey bottles out of town. However, they're at the docks, run by him. You need to make his life as goddamn difficult as possible. Since you're not well known outside of our family, they probably will not know that you're one of us. I need you to go in there with a team of other mobsters and completely destroy their shipment of Whiskey. Then we'd have complete control over Chicago's whiskey. We'd make millions. This could make you into a made man."

That night, you went to the docks. When asked where your ID was, you let your .45 Colt 1911 do the talking for you. You destroyed some of the cargo, brought the other half to Corelli. Suddenly, Corelli put you in some more important missions. He also taught you some important lessons. The next day, Mr. Corelli was going to lunch at the Appian Way restaurant. He wanted someone to come with him, because someone might try to end his life after last night's assault.

When they got to the Appian Way, Nick and Corelli enjoyed a very nice lunch together of pasta and seafood. When they finished, the owner of the restaurant asked if they would like desert. Corelli replied yes, and asked for the menus. When the owner walked into the back room to get the menus, gunfire opened up on the restaurant. Six men, dressed in black striped suits walked up and fired 1928 Thompsons into the restaurant. Glass was shattering, bullets were flying. Nick and Corelli ducked behind a knocked over table. Corelli was unarmed, again Nick had the .45. Against extreme odds, Nick held off these mobsters and killed all of them. Corelli was safe, and Nick was not a made man.

Nick was now given a new name. Nick "The Hit" D'Amico.

Nick was now given a new name. Nick "The Hit" D'Amico. Corelli knew that this was now complete and total war. There would be no end to this. According to Corelli, Santuri had crossed the line, and he must now pay. He had one man to do the job: that man was Nick. Over the next few months, Nick would learn the lessons of the Casa Nostra "Our House". Many of those lessons would be tough, others relatively easy. The tougher ones were brutal, though.

Corelli responded swiftly to Santuri's attack. The next day, Nick and a team of his men removed Tom DiLeo at a subway station stop. While Tom was waiting for his daily newspaper at the newsstand, Nick gunned him down with his Lupada: avenging his father's death. Although a brutal fight ensued, Corelli's men lost few, but gained much on the Santuri's. Santuri lost his right hand, his left was soon to follow. The consigliere for the Santuri's was Salvatore Lucianti. Corelli knew right where to find him.

Lucianti always left his apartment at the exact same time. 7:23. He had a posh apartment in lower manhattan, where the rich played and poverty was just a word you would find in a dictionary. There was very lax security there, which was very suprising considering that a mob boss's consigliere lived there. Corelli told Nick to take a Springfield '03 sniper rifle with a telescopic scope and eliminate Lucianti from across the street, ontop of another apartment building. With lightning quick reflexes, Nick fired one round, hitting Lucianti square in the eye, blowing a hole in his glasses and killing him instantly. His blood splattered glasses landed on the ground next to Lucianti, with the right lens having no damage, while the left had a 7.62mm hole in it, right where Nick landed the killing blow. Nick was in Corelli's pocket. Nick would listen to anything he said because he wanted blood. Due to the blind rage caused by his hatred for the Santuris, he had to kill them all. This was his tragic weakness. He never once thought that he was being used or betrayed. He was happy where he was, and didn't want to move.

Corelli told Nick that he had to do a very difficult mission. He had to whack Santuri himself. Santuri goes to the Met every Friday to watch an opera, and today was no different. Santuri would walk through Lincoln center to his armored limo when the opera ended. Tonight was Tosca, and it would be over at 12:23. He would be the first out of Lincoln center so they could hurry him into the car. Corelli wanted to become the capo di tutti capi, the boss of all bosses. He didn't want any competition, none at all. He knew that Nick created a problem. You see, Corelli was Santuri's right hand man in the 1890's. Santuri was a much older man, and ran the majority of the city. Corelli and Santuri split the city in 1902, with Corelli getting Upper Manhattan, Harlem, and Brooklyn. Santuri got Midtown and Lower Manhatten. Santuri trusted Corelli, a trust which was broken when Corelli started moving whiskey around in the 1920's. Santuri did not want this to happen, because he believed in more legitimate trades. He cut all ties with Santuri, and payed Tom DiLeo to whack Nick's father, to send a message to Corelli. Since this had happen with his boss, Corelli did not want Nick to come out the same way.

After this mission, Nick had to be dealt with.

That Friday, Nick pulled into Lincoln center with a Lupada and a Tommy gun. When Santuri walked out, he got to the beautiful fountain infront. It was spraying water in a beautiful dance of life and death, the qualites of water. When Santuri turned to throw a coin in, Nick intrupped with his sawed off. 12 pellets struck Santuri, and he fell fowards. A second burst shot him into the fountain, into the water. Santuri was now out of the question. Corelli now owned this town.

Nick was then told by Corelli to lay low for a bit. But before that, he had to do a mission. The First National Trust bank in Midtown was not very well guarded, according to him. He told Nick to rob it, and give the money to him. Nick would get a very nice cut of it, nearly half. It wasn't bad, and he couldn't complain. The next Sunday, he walked in and shot up the walls. The guards who played hero with Nick were gunned down. Everyone kept nice and quiet, and Nick and his team got away with nearly a million dollars.

The next day, Nick went to meet with the other guys in Central Park, in order to meet with them and get the money. When he got to the place, he made a greusome discovery: the bodies of each member of his team, and a note: "You're next, D'Amico. Mr. Corelli sends his regards". A bunch of people ran out with Tommies and Colt .45's. Nick fought them off, and survived. Nick knew that he was set up, but didn't know why. He then contacted his brother, who was in the witness protection program. He told Nick about the entire situation: how Santuri and Corelli were together as father and son, and how Corelli killed his own boss. Since he wanted aboslute power, he didn't want to see the same thing happen with Nick and himself. He slammed the phone down, furious. He wanted Corelli's blood. He would soon get it. The next day, Nick grabbed his Tommy and Colt .45. He walked towards Corelli's bar in Little Italy. He walked slowly, non-descript. He had all the goddamn time in the world. And he knew it, and kept it to his advantage. He walked up to the bar and opened fire. For a front row seat of the action was Corelli, who was sitting in a small booth by the window. Nick shot him, and every mother loving bastard in the room. He walked in and finished his 50 round drum on Corelli. He was dead. Out of nowhere, a .38 Webley struck Nick in the chest. Apparently, the crooked cops were informed about the entire situation. A man in blue walked into the bar and shot Nick. Nick looked at him coldly, brought up the Tommy and pulled the trigger, only to hear the cold sound of metal hitting metal. *click*. The cop fired again *pop* *pop* *pop*. Nick doubled over, and landed next to Corelli. Their eyes met, and Nick said to Corelli, "I'll see you in hell."