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Mar 29 - 11:54:52
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Making Off a Masterpiece Started by: Nikki_Swango on Sep 23, '17 00:15

There weren't many of them, considering she'd been collecting them over a decade. But she treasured them just the same, her collection of Botticelli paintings. There were a few portraits, and several religious works, but her absolute favorites were the mythologicals. She'd just hunted and found the Primavera. It was a joy to her eyes, and she had spent several quiet hours in her office studying it before carefully bundling it away in a secure location across town.

At least, she'd thought it secure. The handful of bodyguards she'd assigned to discreetly keep eyes on the place had failed her somehow. A shift change, a smoke break, no one knew how it had happened but when she'd come to check on her works, they were gone without a trace.

She nearly wept that day; she told herself that those were her retirement, but deep down, she would have never parted with them. After days of phone calls, pulled strings, and slipped tips, she had her answers.

The answers, however, left her with more questions. Uncomfortable ones. Descendants of the Botticelli family were behind the robbery, as they felt that any painting by their patriarch four hundred years before, belonged to them. Nikki had thought long and hard on this, and had finally come to the conclusion that, had they come to her directly, arrangements could have been made. But, no. They were no better than she, thieves with motivations. Let the better man, or woman, win.

Stepping into the hallway back in the HQ, she paused outside Cesare's door, tapping lightly on it with a knuckle before entering. Their relationship had transcended rank and friendship, but manners were, well, just polite. When the door opened, she smiled. 

"My Botticellis were stolen by the Botticellis," she said with an ironic twist of her lips. "They're holed up across town, at this address. I assume my art is there as well. Care to put together a team for me to retrieve them?" She asked as she shoved a scribbled address into his breast pocket before smoothing his lapel with her palm.

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Cesare was busy writing in his pocket notebook detailing travel plans and cost figures when he heard the gentle knock on his door from Nikki. He quickly pocketed the book as she entered and inquisitively cocked his head to the side. Hearing the news, he could feel the rhythm of his heart quicken. He'd always been protective of everything involving Nikki and the idea that some bereft family thought they could pull one over on her and her crew sent his blood pacing. He restrained himself as she slid the address into his pocket, dangerously close to his notebook.

"I'll take care of it," he replied, "Don't worry." He tossed her a smile as she left the office.

The next moment he was formulating the right crew for the job. They'd need a good sized crew. The old Botticellis weren't particularly prestigious in the underground, but they caused enough trouble to have Cesare spend time assembling the perfect crew. They'd have to sneak into or downright assault a rival warehouse and not damage priceless paintings in the process.

Darkee made sense for the driver. Coming from Los Angeles, the kid knew cars and he knew the layout of Chicago's streets better than anyone in the family. Cesare made a mental note filling the slot.

Seraph was a no-brainer, when it came to tracking things down, there was nobody better than Seraph. The guy could pick out a group of Wise-Guys from a mile out. If anyone could sniff out some nicked paintings and retrieve them delicately, it was him. As long as he stayed away from alcohol...

The technical positions in the crew looked good, but Cesare needed shooters. He wasn't sending his guys into a rival warehouse without any firepower. But who should go?

Capazzo made sense, he was uncannily deadly with a gun even when he was trying to play it safe. He'd developed a reputation for his gun prowess. Guys at the HQ were saying that if you covered 99% of a target, Capazzo would bulls-eye the uncovered 1%. Cesare added him to his mental list.

Wrench should go too. The guy had stayed quiet most days, but Cesare could tell there was the heart of a killer inside him. He'd be a good balance for Capazzo in the fire team.

Cesare went over his crew in his mind...there were four. Normally he'd take four of his best against any crew in the country no question, but he didn't want to take any chances with this one. After waiting a moment, he added another name:

Lucy Fazzone. She was new to the family, but not the life. She'd been all over the country picking up skills along the way. She needed a chance to prove herself to the new crew, and she may be able to give some valuable insight to the rest of the boys on the job.

 

In an instant, Cesare was on the phone, his bodyguard took dictation on a letter to be given to Wrench instead of a call. The speech was almost identical for each call.

 

"It's Torretta. Listen, I got a job for you straight from the Boss herself so no screw-ups, got it? Some of the old Botticelli fuckers thought they would come in and make off with some very important paintings in Ms. Swango's possession. These things are worth a fucking fortune. You and some of the others are gonna go teach those slimy old-money dykes what happens when they step in on Broadway! How you get it done doesn't matter to me, we've got no love for the Botticellis so nobody's gonna cry any tears if a few bodies hit the floor. Just make sure you get those paintings back in exactly the same condition they were taken in! The crew is gonna meet at Dubliner Memorial Park. The driver will have the address when he picks you up. Make sure you bring some heat."

After making the calls and sending Ricardo out to give the orders to Wrench, Cesare lit himself a cigarette. There was a time, he'd have walked right down to the Botticelli warehouse and popped each one of the rats himself, but this time he had to trust his guys. He knew the job would get done right. If it didn't, there would be some very uncomfortable meetings to be had in his office...

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With Darkee being out of town and Seraph making his surprise move back to Italy, Cesare needed to find someone fast to drive for his crew. He mulled over the guys in Chicago and suddenly he had a stroke of brilliance.

Husky Radhe.

There wasn't anyone as street-wise, maybe in the country, as Husky was.

He quickly grabbed his phone and dialed him up,

"Husky! I'm in a bind and I need someone for a job right now! I've got a group waiting at Dubliner Memorial Park for you to pick up. You're going to raid the Botticelli warehouse and recover some very important paintings for the Don. I don't think I need to stress how careful you all need to be around these. Grab some wheels, the crew should be waiting for you when you get to the park."

After supplying Husky with the address for the warehouse, he hung up the phone.

Nothing could be simple, could it?

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Husky put the phone down and stared at the ceiling. Things had dulled down lately and he had been considering leaving the life. This period of indecision in his life was interspersed by brief instances of momentary intrigue. These moments were the only things keeping him intrigued. So, while at any other point in his life he might have passed off the job to someone else in favour of the beautiful woman asleep on his bed in all her naked glory, he could no longer do it. His whole life had been dictated by his search for love and the consequences it had wrought. No more. He had finally given up hope on finding someone who understood him and desired him for who he was. As such he needed something else to fill that void in his chest, something intriguing that would hold his attention if only for a little while. Fate it seemed had offered him the opportunity to do just that. 

As he dressed he dialled up one of his men , "Tommy! No.. calm down we're not under attack again. No.. I'm not too drunk to drive back home. No.. She didn't get me pinched. Calm down and listen to me carefully. Remember that truck we had in mind for that job with the Russian widow? Yeah the one stashed on 3rd and Jefferson, bring that over to the hotel, along with some food, binoculars and a pee jar soon as you can. And get me everything you know about the Botticellis." Tommy had been used to his eccentric demands at odd hours, more so lately than usual considering how he had been spending time trying to reinvent himself, but Husky was sure even he would think his boss had finally lost his marbles after this request. To be perfectly honest, Husky couldn't blame the guy. 

He splashed some water on his face , grabbed his tie and walked out. He fixed himself up in the elevator hoping he had not forgotten anything. Moving to the 24 hour diner next door he grabbed a coffee and lit a cigarette as he waited for his man to show up. His eyes had almost shut when he heard the truck stop at the curb. Slapping himself to push the weariness away he got up and walked out. As Tommy gave him a rundown of the major Botticelli businesses, Husky checked the supplies and the storage space. It was large enough to smuggle some paintings in but small enough to be inconspicuous. Tommy had brought over enough food that he wouldn't go hungry should he have to stake out the place all night while the rest of the gang went in. 

Nodding to Tommy he stepped in and drove off towards Dubliner park. The cool midnight breeze was sending chills down his spine as he realise he'd forgotten a blanket. Sighing to himself he realized it was probably for the best. If he were too comfortable he might just doze off behind the wheel. As the truck rumbled to a stop near the memorial, he saw 3 silhouettes under the pale moonlight begin walking towards him. This must be the rest of the crew. Stepping out of the truck he wondered who they might be. As he waited for them to come closer he tried to straighten out the creases in his half tucked shirt. With his hair dishevelled and tie hanging loosely he took a long drag feeling the familiar burn down his throat. As he let the smoke leave his nostrils and mingle with the fog nearby the three of them had stepped close enough for him to make out their faces.

Two of them were guys he had never worked with before but had heard enough about to trust not to double-cross him. The third, the woman with the red hair blowing in the wind and the piercing green eyes holding his gaze had done just that though. It was curious how fate tried to keep bringing them closer despite his best efforts to stay away. The thought made him chuckle and looking at her he said "I don't always look this scruffy you know" A reference to their first meeting back in Philly. He may have put things behind him but like a cat once bitten he resolved to be cautious now that he knew she was involved. "But regardless, gentlemen" he said tilting his head to the guys before turning back to her and continuing "Lady. As much as I'd enjoy engaging in witty banter out here in this cold Chicago breeze, how about we head on in if you're ready. "

"Fair warning though, I am half asleep so there is a chance I might nod off behind the wheel. If that happens, just give me a nudge and I'll be back to full attention. " He teased as he stepped into the driver's seat, curious to see who would ride shotgun. He still knew very little about this plan and was hoping he would get a better idea before everything went to hell in a hand-basket. When he saw Wrench get in next to him, he nodded to the guy and started the truck. The streets of Chicago lay empty as their truck slowly rumbled on to it's destination. 

The quiet was starting to get to him. Worried he might take a nap he figured he would engage Wrench in some conversation. "Say didn't I see you in Detroit? Yeah you were quietly sipping tea and making sketches right, that was you?" he enquired and Wrench nodded. This was going to be tougher than he thought. "What do you think of Chicago so far?" he asked and the reply was an indifferent shrug. Sighing to himself he said with resignation as he turned to look back at the road "Any one ever tell you you're not the greatest company when driving late at night?"

His mind naturally wandered to the paintings. He never knew the Boss enjoyed art. It seemed after all this time there was much he did not know about her affairs. For instance he had no idea how she had come by these paintings or why exactly had the Botticellis decided to steal them or even why they were sloppy enough to leave clues behind. He made a mental note to remind Cesare to dish out more details the next time the guy pulled him into a job. RHM or not the guy kept his cards too close to the chest and for some reason it mildly irritated Husky .

As he neared the warehouse, he slowed down and backed up into an alley. Turning back towards the rest of the gang he said, "We're not getting any younger folks. I'd like to get back in bed before breakfast, so I suggest you get a move on." As they left and made their way towards the warehouse he picked up the binoculars and looked around, trying to locate any guards. He saw a few but he was certain the rest of the gang could handle them easily. So he looked around for the food he had brought along to satiate his grumbling stomach. He pulled out a burger and took a large bite as he looked on. He could feel the drowsiness growing and he wondered , not for the first time, if this job would turn out to be worth losing his sleep. Regardless of his possible regret, this was going to be a long night...

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Capazzo quickly jumped out of bed as his phone rang. He ran over and grabbed it.

"Yeah...Cap here."

The person on the other end shouted off instructions as Capazzo reached for a pencil and notepad and wrote instructions down frantically.

"I'll bring him."

Capazzo nodded a few more times and then hung up the phone. He turned to the corner and looked on.

"Well bud, looks like we have work to do."

With that Capazzo ran to take a quick shower, before he did he looked back at his buddy...his Tommy Gun.

 

*FEW HOURS LATER*

Capazzo sat in the van as Husky drove. He didn't really know much about Husky but surely he was someone that was a good wheel man, after all, this job came straight from the top from Don Nikki herself and her right hand Cesare_Torretta. This was a big moment for Capazzo, he wanted to show the bosses that he was capable of this sort of thing and this life as whole. 

He had butterflies in his stomach as the van continued to move...getting closer and closer to the destination. Capazzo looked around to everyone that came along for this ride. There was Husky of course. Then there was Lucy, the beautiful but deadly red head and finally the ever so quiet Wrench. Capazzo knew this was a more then capable team considering the boss herself hand picked it. 

With every moving second Capazzo's mind ran in circles. He wondered if the paintings would be there, how much of the Botticelli's would be there, would everything go off easily or would there be any hiccups. Just then before he could answer any questions Husky was backing in to an empty alley. He reversed in and everyone got ready.

"We will go first Lucy and Wrench will get the paintings. Wrench back us up too if need be."

Capazzo whispered to his two family members. He then said a silent prayer and jumped out of the back of the van. He signaled to Lucy for him to go first and he did. No one in sight yet. He walked a bit more hiding behind garbage cans and anything he could use for shield. After Capazzo walked a few more moments he spotted his first Botticelli member. Instead of gunning him down Capazzo felt it'd be better to keep quiet, he quickly grabbed the man and within two seconds broke the man's neck. Capazzo moved up some more where there were tons of Botticelli men and woman swarming the area. There was a small storage area to the right, Capazzo assumed that's where they were hiding Don Nikki's paintings. 

"Okay."

Capazzo reassured himself one more time. He looked at his Tommy Gun and gave it a kiss. Then in one fell swoop he jumped out.

"For Don Nikki FUCKERSSSSSSSSSS!!!"

Capazzo yelled out and started shooting everything in sight. The Botticelli's were completely caught off guard as some of them got hit and the rest scrambled for weapons. Capazzo took cover continuing to pick off one by one but after a few moments the few Botticelli men that were there now had fire power as well and they returned the favor. One of the men quickly climbed onto the side of the building. He had a clear shot of Capazzo as he continued to climb. Capazzo didn't even see him, he was too focused on everyone in front of him. The gunman grinned and finally settled on a spot, he settled in and set up. The Botticelli gunman let out a chuckle as he measured his target.

He put his hand on the index trigger and....

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The hum of the ceiling fan above them, was all she could hear.  Bliss.  No voices for hours now.  Twenty bodyguards between her and the lobby entry.  Three on the roof in shifts.  Lucy ran her fingers over the scar on her arm. 

BLAM!

She winced at the memory, the ghostly echo of the shadowy figure’s gun was as real to her right now as it was that night.  Tears welled in her eyes.  Thinking of the missing ghosts had summoned them back.  Logic told her she was safe, but she was happy and every time she was happy...

BLAM!

‘LUCY!’ Arya shrieked.

RING! RING! 

Lucy leapt in fear at the sound of the phone ringing in the other room.  Her heart racing as if she’d just run a marathon in fear for her life.  Next to her Frank snored softly.  Sitting on the edge of her bed she put her face into her hand. 

What’s happening to me?

A little knock on her door and Tony peaked in and held up the receiver, indicating she had a call.  She stood, her silk night gown falling sticking to her sweat covered body. 

It was Cesare.  Nikki needed her.  He ended the call with, “Make sure you bring some heat.”  Lucy looked at her guns on the nightstand near Frank’s still sleeping body.  Hanging up the phone she grabbed them up and got dressed, leaving only a note on her pillow for Frank to find.

 

***

The van was full, perhaps that was why she was alone with real people again.  Her crew.  She took in the sight of them.  Capazzo was almost excited.  She could feel it coming off him in waves.  She could remember feeling that way on a job or two herself, but today she was carefully reserved.  Thoughtful. 

Wrench smiled at her from time to time.  Of her whole crew she felt like maybe Wrench could see through her façade and fine suit to the heart of her.  It was as if he knew something wasn’t quite right and he was trying to reassure her silently. 

In the front, Husky drove.  After his initial request of her to move things along, he seemed unaware of her presence and unaffected by her for the most part.  This was best for everyone.  Distractions were death on a job – and with Frank’s temper, it was probably better all-around if he never remembered his desire to find out if she was a good dancer or not. 

Still, it was strange how the universe had this way of putting him in front of her constantly.  Did God not have the good sense to know she’d moved on?  Could he not accept that she now understood this wasn’t the man who had won her heart?  Well, she had.  Frank was the only man for her and it was good that she and Husky had this understanding, it was nice to be able to work with him on a professional level without worry that there was something more lingering between them.

 

***

Lucy checked her irons.  Her father’s gun, a Colt M1911 .45 ACP, had an extended clip with ten rounds and she’d brought additional magazines to reload as needed.  The gun was a man-killer to be sure, and it reloaded faster than anything she’d ever worked with before.  In a pinch, it might save someone’s life – her own she hoped.  The gun she’d picked up in Sicily was a Colt M1911 .38 Super.  It had the honor of being known to fire the fastest bullet of any handgun on the market to date.  It would tear through most protections like wet paper.  It was slower to reload, so she had one go at unloading the twelve rounds, otherwise she’d need to find a way to buy herself some time.

She gave a glance to Husky in the front seat.  “See you soon.”  She whispered and forced a tight smile.

Capazzo opened the door and signaled for her to follow.  She kept pace weaving in and out from hiding spots through the building.  Crates, garbage cans, each allowed for her and Capazzo to move freely, but for how long?  There were so many men and women here.  This was their home.  She was an invader in this space and for what?  Paintings?

Lucy heard a cracking noise and then a soft thud.  She looked to her left.  Cap had broken the neck of a guard.  His broken body bent on the ground in a way that no human would comfortably ever lay.  His vacant eyes seemed to stare accusingly at Lucy.  She shook her head, pushing the thoughts from her mind. 

These guys stole from Nikki.  She kept reminding herself.  They had to know there would be consequences.  This is nothing like what happened to us in Philly.  These are bad people.

Cap kissed his tommy gun.  It wasn’t odd to see fervor in a young gangster or affection for one’s weapons, after all, she loved her father’s gun, the last of him she still had – yet the action made her stomach twist.  Nothing good was going to come of this.

"For Don Nikki FUCKERSSSSSSSSSS!!!"

He yelled as he charged.  Good lord he was charging an overwhelming force and what about the paintings?  They’d shoot up the paintings and… She watched as Cap worked.  Like a painter throwing red paint on a canvas, blood and fleshy bits sprayed and splattered the walls and floors.  So many dead.  No warning.  People screaming.  They were under attack…

“GET DOWN!”  Arya screamed.

“LUCY GET AWAY FROM THE WINDOW!”  Espresso called out.

Lucy rolled back behind one of the large crates as a few guys took shots at her.  Bullets whizzed past her, broken bits of wooden crate exploding in a shower of splinters all about her.

“This is what you’ve been training for, Kid.”  Oddy’s ghost insisted.

She shook her head ‘no’ in response, not wanting to hear the people she knew weren’t real, but this time the ghosts refused to be ignored.  Varga grabbed hold of her jacket, “You can Lucy.”  Varga insisted. “NOW! GET! UP!”

She rose and turned with her guns leveled out. 

“Target to the right, two o’clock.”  The ghost of her friend Varga shouted near her ear.

Exhale.  Squeeze.  A blossom of crimson seeped through his white shirt as he collapsed.

“Target to the left, nine o’clock.” 

Exhale.  Squeeze.  A dark hole appeared between his eyes, brain matter covered the wall.

“Looks like the pup’s becoming a wolf.”  Arya’s ghost said proudly.  “Let’s move!” 

The sound of Lucy’s feet slapping the pavement was buried under the sounds of people shouting orders, and gunfire.  She spotted a painting.  She could make a dash and be there in just a heartbeat.

“Where’s Cap & Wrench?”  The ghost of Nova said with fear in his voice.  He was newer than her after all.  He should be scared.  She was scared.

Lucy paused.  Cap, at least, should be heading this way by now.  She looked back to where she could still hear his Tommy hard at work.

“Shit.”  Oddy remarked just as Lucy saw a man climbing a ladder that went up the side of the wall to a scaffolding.  From up there, the whole crew would be fish in a barrel to be fired on.  She, Wrench, and Cap would be dead in no time if he remained up there.

From where she stood, and where he was stopping on the ladder to aim, there was lot of duct work in the way.  She’d never get a clear shot from behind this stuff.  The only way to take the shot would be to step into the open.  The guy on the ladder was taking aim on Cap!

“He’s a dead man.”  Varga lamented.

“No.”  Lucy replied to the ghosts, for the first time ever, aloud.  “I won’t lose anyone else.” 

Lucy snaked her body around the pillar, calm as the day was long. 
Fear and all other emotion gone, washed away and replaced by a cold intellectualization. 
Death came for everyone, if today was her day, nothing was going to stop it.
If today wasn’t her day, then not even God himself was going to stop her.

Lucy walked into the middle of the open room, let out an ear-splitting whistle as she raised her guns.

Exhale.
Squeeze.

The man above Cap fell before firing his weapon, his body landing dangerously close to Cap himself.  This time, she knew better than to ignore the ghosts.  They were helping.

“LEFT.”  Oddy called out. 

Exhale.

“RIGHT!”  Varga barked.

Squeeze.

“DUCK!” Arya warned.

Lucy dropped to the ground, never seeing the man who was swinging the bat that came so close to her skull that she felt it move through her hair.

She pushed her father’s gun hard against his groin and pulled the trigger, blood spray covering her face and chest as his pelvis ruptured and she rose back up.

“YOUR SIX!”  Fish called.

Lucy implicitly put her trust in her crew, and as expected a woman was screaming and recklessly charging her with a shotgun in hand.  Her body convulsed with the impact of bullets from Cap’s Tommy gun.  Her shot gun clattering to the cement floor with a loud metallic sound that echoed through the room.

Calmly, Lucy walked towards the painting on the wall, putting her guns in their holsters despite the fight still going on.  The painting was, amazingly, unharmed.  She lifted it off the hook.

“Behind you!”  Varga shouted.

She lowered it to the ground safely and grabbed up the bat that had been discarded by her previous attacker.  Lucy spun, cracking the asshole in the face.  Distantly she was aware of Cap still shooting, at who or what – she found herself not caring.  This man… like the others, all he cared about was death.  She would give it to him.

Lucy bashed the collapsing man again.  Again.  Again.  Again.  Bits of blood and sinew showering her pretty gray and black pin-striped slacks.  She breathes through her open mouth, eyes unnervingly wide, muttering obscenities and incoherent statements through grit teeth.  Every vermilion shower a strike against the people who took her family from her.  Every wine-colored blast across her white button down blouse, a bit of blood from her lost crew reclaimed. 

Lucy continued to swing, and due to her own distraction the 'ghosts' which had been created by her severely traumatized mind, were silent.  The post-traumatic stress hallucinations could not save Lucy from the things that she herself didn't see or hear.  To her mind it was the ghosts of Varga, Oddy, Arya and the rest of her dead crew warning her of the impending attacks earlier... but in truth she was simply far more aware and good with her guns than she wanted to admit to anyone; mostly because she feared having to use them because of this very thing.   When you had to use your irons, you lost people... sometimes, as was the case here, you lost yourself. 

Lucy continued her obsessive butcher’s work upon the pulp-like remains of her would-be attacker, oblivious to one of two remaining Botticellis’ come up behind her.  He chambered a round and put the gun flat to the back of her skull, execution style. 

It seemed to Lucy, in that moment, that her luck had finally run out.

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The sounds of screaming coming from inside a garage near the Chicago docks, was chilling to say the least, but it was a good sign for Ricardo who was tasked to go find Wrench. He made sure to carefully open the door and peek inside, to his relief, there he was. Wrench was frantically slamming the trunk of a car, in tune to a victims scream over the sound of crushing bones. Wrench instantly froze upon seeing Cesare's trusted Bodyguard. Good thing he was good at remembering faces, or else Ricardo would of have swapped places with the man who was now gasping in a panic. 

Ricardo nervously hands the note over to Wrench, who took a moment to skim over Cesare_Torretta's orders - " Retrieve Ms. Swango's important possessions, the Botticelli's, bring the heat, Dubliner memorial park, no screw-ups". Wrench smirked with excitement and gesticulated to the man in the trunk "don't you move" before slamming the trunk shut. He proceeded to Ricardo's car and headed off to the rendezvous.

***

The drive to the other side of town was hush, apart from HuskyRadhe2's occasional attempt at conversation. Either the crew were silently focusing on the job at hand or everyone was nervously quiet about Husky's uncanny driving, Wrench couldn't tell the difference.    

Having deaf-mutism may seem like a terrible disability, but it had its silver lining. Wrench was very proficient at utilizing his visual cortex and could read a person better than anyone else, their facial expressions, body posture, gestures, eye movement, use of space were all gateways to a person's subconscious, their true self.  One particular person he was heavily concerned about was LuckyLucy, on the surface she looked calm and ready. But Wrench could tell when someone is masking their inner demons, as his been doing it himself for along as he can remember.

When they arrived on location Capazzo laid out the plan - the coast looked clear, so Capazzo went ahead with LuckLucy. She confidently leaped out the van with Capazzo taking lead, while Wrench sat there with an anxious look on his face.

***

HuskyRadhe2 kept attempting some small talk in the van mainly out of pure boredom or to keep himself awake, either way Wrench's thoughts wondered off elsewhere concerned more about LuckyLucy and Capazzo.  It was Husky's sudden jolt to the gun fire outside moments later that snapped Wrench into a frenzy, he immediately jumped out and went looking for the two.

The scene was a mess, bloodied Botticelli's bodies everywhere made for a nice trail to follow. Although the smell of gunpowder was rather pleasing to Wrench's nose. Upon entering a large open space he caught sight of Capazzo, scouting the area with his Tommy Gun and letting off a few rounds at bodies on the ground, in sheer excitement it seemed.

But where was Lucy? Wrench sprinted around the corner, and caught witness to the gunman approaching Lucy from behind. His heavy boots and deafness didn't hamper him this time as he sprinted –silently almost cat like– and tackled the gunman to the ground knocking the gun away. Pulling out his trusty blue stainless steel wrench, he began to disfigure the man with repeated blows. His jackets fringe swinging wildly –scooping up blood on each strike– only to stop when LuckyLucy pulled him back.

They both stood up and he dusted off Lucy's shoulders –she smiled– before instantly noticing the last Botticelli now behind Wrench. Quick as light, she unholstered her pistol and shot agonisingly close to Wrench's ear killing the remaining foe with a clean headshot. If Wrench wasn't deaf before, he sure would be now.

The three grouped up outside the nearby storage container, as Wrench started to break through the lock. It was particularly easy, perhaps they thought no one in their right mind would try to steal from such a heavily guarded area. Upon entering the container they were all there, a bunch of paintings still rolled up and a few still in their frames. Wrench immediately started to remove the paintings from the frames, while Capazzo and LuckyLucy stay watchful outside. Moments later he had them all wrapped up in a protective sleeves and in a huge rucksack on his back.

They retrace their steps back to the van when all of a sudden more gunfire is heard coming from the vans location. It was the Botticelli's, more of them, they had completely shot up the van. Somehow HuskyRadhe2 didn't fall asleep and managed to escape the ambush, we found him hiding in a nearby bush. Wrench saw Capazzo mouth yelled something along the lines of 'Fuck there are a more coming' as he noticed even more Botticelli's approaching us from behind. We were all grouped up and now heavily surrounded. There seemed to be no way out at this point being outnumbered, outgunned, and pinned down without a getaway vehicle.....

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Fat Sal and his associate Vinny were out doing some business out in Chicago. Sal just got a new cargo van with with the Sparelli's restaurant logo painted on either side. Vinny did all the driving and Sal always stayed in the passengers seat with his trusty tommy gun by his side. Today the two were just out doing routine drop offs and pick ups. Vinny always stayed with the Van as Sal went in to conduct business. Vinny was a pretty young associate of Sal's but Vinny was not yet introduced to all the aspects of Sal's work outside of the restaurant. 

"That was the last stop Vinny. Lets go back to Sparelli's before its opening time. We got some pizza's, calzones, pasta's to whip up and deliver to the Swango hang out.

Vinny and Sal park in the back of Sparelli's and unload some bags of dry goods, meats, and fresh produce. Vinny grabs 2 suit cases and asks. "What are these? Sal looks at Vinny. 

"Put those in my office. They are not for the restaurant. Lets get started on this food order. We are running 5 minutes late."  

Vinny lights up the ovens, stokes up the brick oven as Sal preps the pizzas, calzones and pastas. As Vinny is doing some clean up after Sal. Sal rabbles on about pizza dough, how to tell when pasta is al dente and the benefits of fresh quality ingredients to the end product. Vinny listens as he preps some boxes for the daily Swango hang out order. Sal steps out of the kitchen to his office to inspect the contents of his 2 suit cases. 

"Vinny! Don't over cook the Ziti and the Spaghetti this time. Remember al dente. 8 minutes on the full boil. Drain and add the sauce.  

 

As Vinny tends to the pizzas and pasta Sal quickly inspects the contents of the cases in the privacy of his office. It appears to be all there and a good day indeed. Sal smiles, sips some espresso and checks the time on his gold Rolex. All the food should  be done by now. Vinny should be ready to load the van. Sal walks out of his office to see Vinny loading up some boxes into the van. Sal assists to help out and speed things up. 

"Lets go Vinny. Get those pies in the truck. We are still running late. You are gonna have to step on it if we want to get this food over to the hang out hot." 

Vinny hops in the van and speeds off after Sal gave the word go. Vinny is driving like a mad man as he rounds the corner Sal grabs his tommy gun and yells. 

"Slow down!! Slow the fuck down! Stop!!"

Sal quickly notices what is going on. A fire fight between his friends and the Botticellis. Sal scans the scene and notices Wrench, LuckyLucy, Cappazo, HuskyRadhe2, and Cesare_Torretta by a burning get away car. Sal rolls down his window and points his trusty tommy gun out the window and yells to Vinny. 

"Plow over those rat Botticelli pricks with the van! 

Vinny stands on the gas and takes out a good half of them with the front end of the van. Fat Sal shouts.

"Back up and go another round" 

As Vinny backs up Fat Sal opens fire on the Botticellis. Taking out another 3 or 4 and wounding a 5th Vinny shifts from reverse to first to finish the job. He takes out the last of the Botticellis with the Van's drivers side fender. Vinny then backs up and runs over the guy again for good measure as he rolls down his window. 

Cappazo looks at the Van as it comes to a stop and shouts. 

"Sal is that you?"    

Sal gets out with his tommy gun in hand and looks at the battered looking bunch.

"Yeah its me...... I was just on the way to the hang out with some lunch. Get in before the heat comes down! Lets get out of here. Help yourself to some pizza or whatever is in the boxes. Its going to the hangout anyway."  

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Nikki sat in her office in the HQ, wondering why things seemed a bit quieter than usual. She found herself knee-deep in actually getting ahead of the mountain of correspondence and paperwork on her desk, sipping from a cup of chai as Sinatra played on the radio behind her, slow and sultry. She was suddenly jarred from the memories behind another Sinatra tune when her office door burst open and several of her people stormed inside, clearly fueled by adrenaline, bloodlust, and...was that tomato sauce?

She stood slowly as Capazzo stepped forward and unrolled her baby across her desk. The goddamn Primavera, in all its glory. Her eyes welled and she turned to thank him with a hug, unable to speak. Husky was there, leaning against the doorframe with his ever-present smirk, which she momentarily dislodged by placing an appreciative kiss on his cheek. Next was Wrench, holding the remaining paintings and sporting a grin from ear to ear. "Thank you," she mouthed, and signed, because she'd taken the time to learn. And Lucy, looking pale and shellshocked, yet victorious. Nikki hugged her fiercely and prayed some of her demons...ghosts?...had decided to give this woman the peace she deserved, and needed, to move on. 

She opened her mouth to thank the group as a whole when Fat_Sal wedged himself through the door and into the room, several boxes of pizza balanced in his arms. 

"Only the anchovy survived, how hungry are you's guys?" 

Nikki barked out a laugh, bringing Cesare out of his office and soon enough, the group was indulging in the best, worst pizza they'd ever eaten.

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