On the corner of an old street on the East Side of Philly, Louis sat reading the local paper. His coffee steamed excitedly, teasing his senses with an array of pleasing aromas. Louis was not familiar with the streets as maybe once his family had been, however he made attempts to frequent them as opportunity offered. He placed the paper down and reached for his coffee, no sooner had he, that an errant breeze picked up the paper and tossed the pages up into the air and across the streets. He sighed in disgruntlement, only half aware of the story he was reading.

The waiter clearing tables took note of this. Intelligent young man as he was.

"Tell me, Signore Gato,  what stories do you know?"

Louis smiled. 

"Michael, the tales I could tell would revolt and terrify you. I know you're a smart kid, but I don't want to encourage your interest in my way of life."

The disappointment on his face was clear, and he wasn't likely to argue.

"... However... There is a tale I've not told for several years now. I could regale you to distract me of my own half-digested read."

His face lit up and he took a seat. Louis again smiled at his interest.

"Allow your mind to empty, clear your thoughts and feelings, and relax as I fill them with those of another man, not one who calls Philly home, however he has dabbled in our world for most his years..."

* * * * * *

I didn't spend too long rubbing noses with the dealer. Long enough to smell the pungent, smoky odour on his lips and see the residue of what was no doubt his own product, caught in his stubble. A heavy soon shifted between us, with his gentler side favouring the man I was quite ready to kick seven shades of shit into.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me, Mike!"

I sprawled my arms and outstretched my palms, making it clear I wasn't going to turn ugly. Getting on the wrong side of these guys would be less than productive. I was fortunate in that my mind worked at such a pace as I could deduce that before throwing myself into a fight I would clearly lose.

"Hey, you know I would if I could, take it or leave it."

The dealer wasn't really at fault, he was just within range of my abuse. I was mad, but 11 hours in a flying tin can'll do that to you. This was the fourth time someone from outside the Chicago Families had been fed a bum tip. People were beginning to notice, and I intended to do something about it. 

No, this wasn't Mike's fault, though the prick could cut me some slack. 

"Would if you could? Fuck you man, I oughta drop you and your boy, Nancy."

My hands made wild jabs at nothingness, pointing out into the general direction of the two men. Easy Frank, reel it in a bit. I couldn't help notice the heavy shift his position slightly in reaction to my taunt, though he still didn't make a move. Disciplined, unlike myself.

"That's nice, fuck you too, buddy." Mike snorted.

The dealer turned and headed into the shadowy hole he'd emerged from, his lapdog eyed me up a while longer before turning his back. I was supposed to  clear myself over 200 big ones today, one long ass trip to find out H is going for less than I paid for it.

I was feeling rattled and anarchistic enough to grab a nearby half-brick and hurl it at the pair. It connected with the bodyguards no doubt thick skull, prompting a grunt. I wasn't there to gauge their reaction though, and soon fled.

Life in the mob had been exciting, I was taken in by Marcus, a friend of my mother who wanted me to earn a good wage. My youth and the cash flow made a volatile pairing, and I was soon seeking greater thrills from my rising position in the organisation.

I wasn't too big, strong or imposing, however, I had smarts. And I was quick, fuck me was I quick.

Now, I had a new goal in mind. A flame ignited at the heart of my psyche and I wouldn't rest before it was satisfied. I was going to murder Daniel Meehan.

It didn't take long to reach the hotel we were holed up in. The boys knew by my attitude that we would be carting the gear around for some time yet. One made a displeased comment, like it was his ass that was on the line. I broke his nose and he soon shut up.

The flight home was long. I didn't sleep.

There was a car waiting for us at the airport, black, common, inconspicuous. Two of the bosses Soldatos loomed either side of the door, smoke pouring out from their up-turned coat collars. One opened it without a word. It would almost be intimidating if I wasn't used to the scene.

We were herded into the HQ like lambs to the slaughter, seven of us in total, none of which were carrying the five hundred grand that we might bargain with for our lives.

"Frankie Pizo, where the fuck do I keep going wrong with you? How, fuckin' hard, can it be to make a god dam profit?"

I might have known Robert would have a monologue waiting for me. His voice was thunderous, his accent thick and typical. He spoke in pauses, like a child would reading from a book. Either that or genuine disbelief. 

"How many fuckin' times do I send you out there Frankie? I mean, the only reason I know that your fuckin' legs are still supporting your useless fuckin' ass is because you supposedly 'know people'"

Robert had a habit of breaking people's legs who pissed him off. I'd suffered a beating once, and as brutal as it was, I felt let off lightly. I watched with contempt as his chunky little fingers air quoted one of my best assets. The bosses Left Hand was thick set, he had a huge joint of meat for a head and shoulders you could build a fucking townhouse on. When it came to confrontation, he enjoyed using his hands where possible. 

He suddenly turned and pointed directly at me.

"Now I don't want your asinine excuses, Frank, I want you to tell me how you're going to resolve this little situation."

The room fell silent and I felt my associates eyes  drop onto the back of my head. I waited, allowing the enormity of my endeavor build tension. Robert glared at me, the desire to squash me on the spot was clear, as was the almost visible restraints applied to his limbs, chains shackled to the far wall and the bosses arms wrapped around his shoulders.

"I'm going to kill Daniel Meehan"

The words fell calmly from my lips, they spoke of sincerity, ambition and absolute commitment. Robert didn't react, though a bustle of confused shuffling broke out behind me. Not a word was spoken.

"I'm going to find him, advise him to honour the information he provided us, with expenses and his word that in future his services will be accurate and profitable. If he refuses, I'm going to cut his heart out."

He didn't pause this time.

"You're a fool."

His voice subtly told of surprise and respect, I knew he had heard exactly what he wanted to hear. This was how he wanted me to resolve the situation. Robert turned his back and paced away, rolling up his sleeves.

"So, we have found our resolution, now for the lesson."

His sadistic smile was one I had witnessed twice before as he crippled our fellow associates. This time it was Johnny. Poor, unfortunate, Johnny. The obvious ecstasy Robert felt from crushing bones with his own animalistic might will forever instill me with fear. I was the only one that attempted to intervene, though my struggles against the Soldatos grip was lacking any real conviction.

I watched as loyal, honest Johnny Arelli was kicked, crippled, beaten and throttled. I would never know the method that Robert used to decide who to enforce his 'lessons' on. I could only hope to fathom that it was random, Johnny was a good kid.

Robert held the man's head, his expression etched with despair and pleading for mercy, between his huge arms and squeezed the life out of him. 

We left as six.

We left and headed straight for Chicago. One of our number knew a guy called Leyton who was offering his assistance on our little jaunt. Corrupt as they came, Leyton was destined to wind up under the thumb of a guy like me from the second he joined the law. Tina had him on her payroll for a few years, he was probably one of the more dependable stooges that we could call upon.

Flight number three in as many days. I still didn't sleep.

We met Leyton at a front,  he was practical, efficient and indifferent as to our goal. Tina had heard he was raising questions regarding Meehan's leadership..See, Leyton too had noticed the increased attention the older Agent was drawing through bum tips, and it was difficult enough hiding corruption, without raising the bureau on the rest of the underworlds shit-list. Word had gotten around, he apparently wasn't shy about the idea of topping the FBN's number 1. He took the notion in his stride, which meant he was a little more chaotic than I'd given him credit for. Or stupid.

"So you kill him, then what?"

He put out a smoke and immediately lit another, if he wasn't so laid back I'd say he was nervous.

"I'm going to bury him under the fucking mound of heroin we bought on his advice. That oughta make this stinking city's force start appreciating; we're not to be fucked with."

That was all he wanted, or needed, to hear. Such was my enthusiasm, he was sold on the idea. Leyton was keen to take his place, so we arranged for a rigged 'bust' on a nearby café. Leyton would get the credit, and the owner would be unfortunately ignorant to the large amount of Heroin we agreed to plant in his kitchen. It was a third of what I planned on suffocating Meehan with, a fair price for Leytons help. We finalized a plan and headed back to the hotel for the evening.

We met Leyton again that night at a local Chicago hotspot, the city lights were bright and my eyes were sore, it was difficult to appreciate the atmosphere. Leyton appeared keener than he had at our previous meeting, or perhaps my senses were stifled by the sleep deprivation. Maybe it was my enthusiasm that was suffering.

"Alright, Dan thinks he's meeting you to discuss the local fronts. He's expecting to meet a Caporegime from Chicago"

I nodded as a polite necessity. I didn't give fuck what the story was. We sat in the bar for an hour, Leyton had disappeared into the crowd to avoid suspicion, I was to approach the back room in fifteen.

My mind frantically raced with anticipation, my appetite for redemption groaned inside of me, and my eyes glimmered, wide and excited, upon the thought of what we were about to accomplish.

The time came. 

I finished my drink and gave the guys a simple nod. They split up around the bar, should anything go wrong they'd need to be in a position to back us up.

I approached the room, the bustle of the bar was distant to me, my focus had shifted. This was it. Leyton shook my hand and led me past a couple of heavies. Up some stairs. Through a door.

"Mr...Vitti? A pleasure to make your acquaintance"

Meehan spoke with the same obnoxious tone I'd heard on the tip line. He was confident, pampered, with a smile that could charm a rattle snake. He was aged but not past his physical peak. Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, the room was around him was dark, not in a sinister manner, but more a personal study sense. 

"I believe we have some business to discuss?"

I smiled and nodded, as an old Italian stereotype would. Stepping past Leyton my hand found the back of a chair. Leyton closed the door.

"..."

I opened my mouth, the words hanging off my tongue. My entire endeavor began with this speech, I was proud of it, eager to see the impact my own monologue would have. Though it did not come. 

Pain, spread through my chest. My shirt became damp, my knees, weakened. Meehan only smiled deviously, my grip on the chair tightened Leyton stepped past. He cleaned the last of my blood from his blade, admiring only the reflective metal, rather than his treacherous assault. My mind began racing, as it does, as it always has done. Rearranging, re-planning. This is what I was good at, this is how I survived.

My head lowered, the breath that was trapped by my surprise finally left my body.

"Did you really think it was that easy? I... I can't even comprehend it."

I caught a flicker of motion in the corner of the room. He was right, how could I have been so blind? Was it the notion of success? Was it the fatigue? I could concern myself with that later.

A man stepped out of the shadows, well dressed, broad, imposing.

Godfather Harris. I coughed as the agony crept through my gut, my hands now gripping the back of the chair. Leyton stepped forwards, now gripping a nightstick. This could be my chance, I was quick.

The stick thundered into my chest, something cracked. He didn't pause, bringing it up underarm and breaking my jaw. I stumbled backwards, before finally falling to my knees. The men around me simply watched. Leyton was as stony faced as he had been when we first met, Meehan grinned, the Godfather scowled.

As I dropped to the ground, I felt the Chicago figurehead grasp my collar and pull me upwards. I remained on the ground, my energy slipping away.

"I don't give a fuck what you do in Delaware, but this is Chicago. The more of you that come, the more that will fall"

With that the Godfather was gone, I fell once again, landing on my back. Meehan now stood over me. He was holding his credentials, looking them over with that same smile.

"It seems I have some unwanted attention, wouldn't you say, Leyton?"

Leyton nodded, now holding a canister of gasoline. Meehan slowly took off his jacket, his hat, his gun.

"What better way to make that attention... go away?" 

He laughed and threw his items on my trembling body. It was getting cold. I didn't see him leave, only Leytons face, void of any emotion, as he emptied the fuel around the room, across my legs, into my wound. 

My eyes grew heavy, warmth enveloped my extremities. I should probably get some sleep. 

* * * * * *

Louis watched the young waiters face as his story met its finale. He was clearly enthralled, however it was an interest that stemmed from the fear of finding himself in the situation that old Frankie Pizo ended up in. The man stammered, unsure of what to think, or say. Louis simply smiled, as he always did.

"C-can I get you anything else, Signore Gato?"

Louis shook his head politely, watching as the young man stumbled back inside the cafe. Around his table, other patrons suddenly shuffled back to their own conversations, making vain attempts to hide their eavesdropping. Louis smiled and took a sip of his coffee, the steam rolling over his face.

"Paisano, your critique is of course welcome..."