fess up, vico

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While Adamo certainly had a habit of keeping people waiting, he was still a man of his word. He and Vico didn't have any missions to worry about for a good few days, so he took the opportunity to buy that wine he had mentioned to his partner a few weeks back. (Their previous missions had actually treated him pretty well, financially, but that was probably because he had sticky fingers when handling the nobler targets.) Vico had picky tastes, though, and the bottle he bought probably wasn't up to his par, but it would have to do. It wasn't the cheapest, nor the most expensive.

"Vico?" Adamo called as he emerged from the tunnel entrance, turning the corner. The bureau was always quiet by midday, the assassins usually away doing their assigned duties. (Except for a few unlucky ones in the armory who were cleaning. They must've angered Machiavelli.)