To see Mr. Butcher.

Ellis led them through a maze of tunnels. Butcher was such an enigma that no-one had even gotten a description of the man, let alone taken a picture of him. Both agents felt their hearts pounding as they came closer and closer to the man who controlled all crime in the city.

The corridors seemed derelict, but every now and then a doorway would branch off leading to what looked to be clean, well furnished and well illuminated rooms. There was a massive, gleaming kitchen, a room with a pool table and a few guys lounging around it, bunk rooms – Christ, this was a hell of a set-up Butcher had here. This was the centre of his web and this was probably why no-one had ever seen the man. He had no need to leave his impregnable bunker.

Finally they came to a door. It was clean, well-varnished wood and it looked absurd in the dirty cement corridor. Ellis knocked twice, and a rough voice called them in.