"Oh, I am," he murmurs, plucking the cigar out of the Chechen's mouth and blowing on the end a couple of times.

Louder, as he turns away: "I'm only burning my half."

He lines up and throws it directly onto a puddle of gas, then turns back with a faint smile as the flames catch.

"All you care about is money," he says, soft and disappointed. "This town deserves a better class'a criminal, and I'm gonna give it to 'em. Tell your men they work for me now. This is my city."