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RAISA FILE: Group of Interest [DEFUNCT]
GOI-001: Chicago Spirit

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The vestibule. It looks much better than when we first got it.


We ain't too sure where exactly. It ain't Chicago, wherever it is. You look outside the window and there's nothing there but inky black. We've had all sorts of folks come in here and try to give us a straight answer, but all their fancy tools told 'em squat. In short, we don't know where the casino is.

What we do know, though, is how to get to it. See, it ain't like other places. Usually, you'd go in through the front and back out again once you're done. Not our Casino. All you have to do is say the passphrase out loud and you'll find yourself standing dead in the middle of our establishment.

If the big shots aren't feelin' paranoid, that is. The passphrase isn't always a phrase, they can make it anything they want. Either way, if you need to get into the Casino ask the bosses. They'll tell you how.


The Sharpers2, but they're paying top dollar for the passphrase. We let 'em walk around on the ground floor and the wine cellars, but you do whatever you can to keep those folks from poking their noses upstairs. That secret stays with the Spirit.

The only other people that we've heard know about it are the Shelf Rattlers3 , but we're fairly sure they've given up hope of coming back to reclaim it. As far as we know, the only way in is with the passcode, and they know they aren't gonna find it.


We got tipped off by some Rattlers who spilled after a couple drinks. Those guys think they're all smart with their intellectual talk, but they ain't all that. No loyalty to each other, those guys. Once the Spirit found out the passcode, it was ours right quick. We ain't happy about what we did, but sometimes you gotta get your hands dirty. God knows the Chicago Spirit wasn't built without a little business strategy.

Anyway, the place was a real sorry sight after the dust settled. Place looked a mess, bullet holes in the walls, furniture burned and broken. It was a real shame, but we were able to give the place a nice makeover since our Sharper friends decided to co-own the place with us. While it would'a been nice to have the place to ourselves, they gave us an offer we couldn't refuse.


The Casino is the gift that keeps on giving. Downstairs, it's a place where our folks can hide until the heat cools off, and not somewhere the Feds can just come batter down the door. The Sharpers pay us top dollar to run the place as a high-class vacation resort for folks with enough green. It's a nice business on the side.

But that's not what brings in the money. If you ask the bartender for an "Oakframe on the rocks", he'll lead you to the upstairs rooms. Be discreet when you go, though. The Sharpers can't catch wind of the upstairs rooms. We sorta neglected to mention it in our co-ownership contract.

You'll see lots of our folks rushing around up there with cigarettes, liquor and Carrolls. If you look closely enough, you'll see they only go into the rooms. Just like how you can get to the Casino from anywhere, the casino lets you leave just about anywhere you like too. Behind each door in those hallways is a one-way trip to another place, and it's every businessman's wet dream.

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