Late Saturday Night – Chicago’s Southside

“Let me look.”  Finnigan tried to grab the binoculars away from Wrench.  While Wrench couldn’t hear his companion, he knew what he wanted. 

Wrench shook his head no. 

“Lacey is my friend… I set this whole thing up.  The least you can do is let a guy look to make sure everything is going as planned.”

Wrench sighed and pulled out his notebook.  “Kitten?”  He wrote.

“Been a few days.”  Finnigan lamented, how he adored that woman – if it had been almost anyone but Red asking him to do this...  “Besides I’m not wanting to look for THAT.  I just want to see if she’s okay.”

Wrench rolled his eyes and made some sign with his hands that Finnigan took to mean that the couple were already getting to know each other biblically.

“Wait… that quick?  She’s got him into her place and… already?”

Wrench nodded.  He picked up the binoculars and a wicked grin split his face wide a he focused the binoculars in on the curtains that were left open just far enough for him and Finnigan to see to Lacey’s safety.  It seemed, for the moment, the only thing Lacey was in danger of was having a very long night. 

“Well, I guess I don’t need to tell you to keep a close eye on them.”  Finnigan flopped down onto the lumpy hotel mattress.  He looked at Wrench who couldn’t hear him and wasn’t likely to be doing a lot of writing while watching their target.  Lucy said the guy was a monster and they shouldn’t take chances, but Finnigan wished they could have just done him tonight and gone off to find a nice place to knock back a few drinks. 

He sighed. 

This was going to be a very long night.

Approximately 7 Years Ago – Chicago’s Southside

“One Hundred and Twenty-Four.  One Hundred and Twenty-Five.”  Lucy put the final bill down on the table.  She stood up straight and proud, her long red hair pulled back in a ponytail swung back and forth across the middle of her back as she bounced on the balls of her feet. 

Boss Gregory “The Old Man” Whitehill nodded with a thin smile splitting his time weathered face.  “You did real good Lucky, real good.”

Lucy glanced over at Tommy who leaned against the wall, gnawing away on tooth pick.  He winked at her. 

“Keep this up and you’ll be a wise guy yet, Red.”  Giuseppe remarked, from his place across the table.

“No one saw you?”  Gregory asked.

Lucy shook her head, “No.  No one.  I just got the cash and got out fast. It went down just like Joey Basil said it would.”

“You and Joe been spending a lot of time together lately.” 

“Don’t worry about it Old Man.  I ain’t sweet on him or nothin’… he’s just trying to help me learn the ropes.”

“Is that so?”  Gregory turned to face her more directly.  “Nickels says he saw you kissin’ Joe outside Howard’s Market last week-”

A few of the guys snickered and one even wolf called.  Lucy blushed.  Tommy threw down his toothpick and made for the door in a huff.  Lucy wanted to snarl after him that he had no business being mad at her for Joey’s stolen kiss; what with how fast he and Sarah had suddenly gone from friends to going steady.  Word on the street was that he meant to marry the honey-haired airhead! 

“Excuse me fellas.”  Giuseppe gave her a look that promised he’d make sure his hot-blooded cousin wasn’t doing anything rash.

Lucy looked back to Old Man Whitehill who was giving his guys daggers with his eyes, “It’s nothing, a stupid gag.  That’s all.”  Lucy explained.  Not that she hadn’t enjoyed it.  Joey was easily the best looking of the Durden gang here in Southside Chicago and word was that he’d be one of Billy’s Capos before long.  A girl could do worse than Joey Basil – if Tommy Malone wasn’t smart enough to see what was right in front of him.

Gregory reached a hand out and took hold of Lucy’s, “Now, you listen to me.  I’ve looked out for you all these years since your parent’s deaths - God rest their souls.”

The men at the table fell silent.  Lucy only nodded in response.  It was rare that The Old Man spoke about her family dying.  Very rare.

“Boys like Tommy Malone and Joey Basil ain’t in your future.  You’ve got much bigger things ahead of you Lucky Fazzone.  Best you keep such foolish romantic notions out of your head – it’ll just make things harder for you when the time comes.”

She nodded.  She knew Old Man Whitehill was right.  The world her father had lived in cost him his family and in the end, his life.  She would never make his mistakes.  She was so much smarter than all that – legit life and love… that was a road for suckers.  And Lucky Lucy was no sucker.

Early Sunday Morning – Alderly Estate, Riverside Chicago

Lucy vomited into the toilet violently, so hard she was seeing stars.

“LuLu – babe… you know what, I’ll get Katy’s breakfast.  We could-”

“No!”  Lucy gagged out the words around a mouth full of last night’s dinner revisited.  “HE DIES TODAY.”  She emptied the last of the food in her gut into the toilet.  “Please don’t look at me like this.”  She whispered into the bowl, still feeling Frank’s eyes upon her.

“Right now, you’re more beautiful to me than-”

“I will shoot you dead, Frank Dicaprio, if you finish that horrible lie.”

Frank chuckled and leaned down to kiss the top of her head.  “I appreciate what you’re going through for us.”

She nodded and put a hand on her stomach wondering if the little thing growing inside her was still there at all.  She supposed the vomit was a good sign – but why in God’s name did it insist on starting her morning sickness on the very day she meant to finish her quest for vengeance?

Approximately 7 Years Ago - Chicago

The car pulling up to the curb near her was far too new to not be noticed – even if the maniac driver hadn’t been honking his horn like crazy.  The black panels shone in the noon day sun and the chrome bits looked so polished they might have been mirrors! 

“LUCKY!”  Joey called out the window.  “LOOK WHAT I GOT!”

Her eyes bulged nearly out of her head.  “It’s yours?  For real, Joey?”  He was only twenty and owned his own automobile!  Lord he was only a few months older than her!  How was it possible?  Unless?

He parked the car and leapt out and raced over to pick her up.  She squealed as he spun her around.  “Big things are finally happening for me Lucky!”

“Capo?  He made you a Capo?”

Joey shook his head no.  “Not yet… got one more big task to do, but then – yes.  It’s already situated.  People are moving around today to make a place for me.”

Lucy hugged her friend.  “That’s great news Joey.  I knew they’d realize how much potential you have – they’d be fools not to see it!”

Joey put her down.  “Come with me, we’ll go for a ride!”

Lucy looked back to the car and realized, only then, that Joey wasn’t alone.  Nickels loomed over to the two of them like a sadistic child looms over ants he means to crush.  Worst of all was those eyes of his.  Something wasn’t right about them… one never really looked at the person in front of him and so she was never sure which eye she should look at when talking to him.

“OH!  Nickels… you startled me.”  To say she wasn’t fond of Billy Durden’s favorite enforcer was an understatement.  Nickels earned his name on the streets of the old country at about the same age that she was now.  Apparently, he took a sock full of nickels and beat a man to such a bloody death that they couldn’t recognize his face.  The name, of course, stuck once he was given his button and he was both feared and respected both in the Old Country and here in the States.

Nickels looked her up and down slowly, it wasn’t something she was unfamiliar with.  Men on the streets had been looking at her like that for years now – even with all the slacks and men’s clothes she wore to hide her shapely figure.  Made Men, however, usually didn’t make eyes at her for fear of Old Man Whitehill.  So, why was Nickels feeling so bold today?

Lucy looked back to Joey then who was less enthusiastic about his drive than he had been a moment ago.  “Joey?  What’s going on here?”  Lucy looked at Joey’s guilt-ridden face, his new car and the promise of him being made a Capo if he did one more thing… then she looked at Billy Durden’s enforcer.  Her mind raced.  What had she done?  Who had she pissed off?  Was it Billy Durden?  She hadn’t done anything to him or his people… she was a good earner!  She was loyal!

“Billy wants to offer you a job too Lucky.”

A job?  Lucy turned to look at him, aghast with the thought of what sort of ‘job’ Billy Durden would have to offer any woman in Chicago – Billy Durden, whose main source of income was measured in flesh.  “Joey … no… you can’t.  You told him I got other uses, right?”

“He asked me to bring you by says this is the best deal he’s ever offered a girl...”

Lucy didn’t think about the consequences of putting hands on a Made Man, she pulled her open palm back and meant to slap him full across the face – but Nickels caught it instead and twisted it painfully causing Lucy to scream out.

“Damn it Lucky – don’t fight Nickels!  He doesn’t want to hurt you.”

“You son of bitch!”  Lucy screamed and spit at Joey as she struggled against the superior foe which held her arm locked behind her.

Joey stood there staring at her as her spit ran down his cheek.

“The Old Man will hang you by your fucking entrails!”  She screamed through her tears.  “He made you!”

“You dumb slit.  Who do you think authorized this?”  Joey said wiping away the spit.  “Put her in the car.”

Early Sunday Morning – Capazzo's Apartment, Chicago

The next morning when the alarm went off Charlie groggily reached to turn it off.  After several blind attempts, she finally managed to silence it.  Moaning softly, obviously not wanting to wake up yet, she reached out to Capazzo to make sure he was awake.  She did not even bother to open her eyes.  Capazzo hated anyone seeing his hair slightly out of place, and that even included her. 

She mumbled as she shook him gently.  “Capazzo go and make your hair beautiful.  Wake me up when you are done in the bathroom.” As she started to doze back to sleep she also mumbled, “and maybe leave me some hot water this time.” 

Almost immediately her breathing indicated she was back asleep.  Capazzo kissed her cheek gently and slipped out of the bed sheets and walked across the cold floor to the bathroom.  Remembering Charlie’s words, Capazzo took a quick shower and then began his morning routine of moisturizing his hair, drying his hair carefully, styling exactly and putting product in it to keep it in top performing condition.  After all, thirty minutes in front of a mirror now would certainly net him an hour in the sack with Charlie later and it would all be worth it – it always was.

Capazzo dressed in a nice suit, tailored – worth more than his single mother had seen in most of her life.  Then the final touch, he opened a small box to reveal an antique cuff link.  Its match lost to time along with his father.  Upon its face, Saint Christopher, the patron Saint of Children and Travelers.  Michael might have been better to watch over his work today – but Christopher had been given to him on the final occasion which he’d seen his father.  As an adult, he wore it in honor of the man he knew so little about the fate of, whenever he was undertaking an operation from which he might not return. 

Walking into the bedroom, finished top to bottom, he kissed Charlie awake.  He kissed her again and again until at last she scrambled away from him.  “If we keep this up, we’ll miss our date in the park.”

Red was like a sister to Capazzo.  They’d grown close over the months of knowing one another and had done numerous jobs together – today was an important day for her.  He’d never let her down… but Charlie in those tiny silk panties was almost too much to bear!  He chased her around the bedroom to let her know that he was doing this thing with her today, but at least a part of him regretted that they had to leave the bedroom so soon.  The chase ended with Charlie laughing behind a closed bathroom door. 

Once the shower turned on, Capazzo went about the task of getting their guns ready and arranging for the first body’s disposal with his men.  Precision was key to the first part of this operation and if anyone dropped the ball – his friends and family members might pay with their blood.

Capazzo had no delusions about cleaning up Tyler Durden’s men, even with Godfather Varys’ blessing, the work they did today might get Red her revenge and secure Chicago… but was going to earn them enemies.  Powerful ones and now, with so much more to lose, Capazzo was leaving absolutely nothing to chance.

Approximately 7 Years Ago - Chicago

Nickels tossed Lucy forward towards Billy Durden, a man just a bit older than her but with an incredible amount of power in the city of Chicago.  He led the Durden crew here in his Father’s name, Tyler Durden, the self-proclaimed Godfather.  And so, for this meeting, Lucy knew exactly where she stood.  She lifted her head and looked at his shiny wing tipped shoes and a cold chill ran down her spine.

Billy clicked his tongue in disappointment and stood up.  “Joe – I’m disappointed you couldn’t simply encourage her to join us with words rather than resorting to Nickels here.”

“I tried Don Durden, but she’s ah, … spirited.”

Billy laughed.  “Spirited.  I like that.  I’m gonna use that.” 

Lucy could hear him pouring one drink and then another.  “Have a drink with me.”  He offered.  “Lucy?”

So few people called her Lucy that it made her look up to Billy’s face.  He was handsome enough.  Sandy dishwater blonde hair, wispy and soft, almost pretty.  If she didn’t know what an utter louse he was, she might have been flattered to be invited to drink with him.  Sadly, she knew she was in no real position to refuse. 

Perhaps, just maybe, if she played along she’d get her chance to flee.  Maybe she could find Giuseppe and Tommy and they’d come with her to some other city.  None of them had their buttons yet, Durden wouldn’t risk his operation for anything less than a betrayal by Made Men.  They could run tonight.  She just had to survive this.

Lucy pulled herself up to her feet and nodded her acceptance of the offered drink.

“Better.”  Billy said as her hand closed around the cup.  He circled her, examining her.  “Take off your suit jacket.”

She unbuttoned the old jacket she’d gotten third hand.  She slid it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.  He pulled her button down white shirt, men’s, tight to her body so he could see her shape.  She closed her else for a long moment.  “Once all knees and elbows, gangly limbs gone replaced with all these soft curves and elegance… a little rouge and powder, a proper dress, and I do believe Miss Fazzone that you could be a stunner.”

“Thank you, Don Durden.”  She tried to sound grateful for his remarks and swallowed the whiskey to take the bitterness of the lie out of her mouth.

“She even drinks gracefully – that’s natural you know,” Billy said to Joey and Nickels.  “You can’t teach that at all those fancy schools they have in Europe.  That’s the sort of shit the high rollers eat up.  Look how she licked up the last drops off her lips.  She doesn’t even know how sexy she is – fuck me… the Old Man was right.”

Lucy shuddered.

“She’s scared.”  Joey spoke up.  “Thinks you’re gonna put her out on some corner.  I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“No.”  Billy said shaking his head, stopping in front of Lucy.  “I have no intention of putting you on some filthy corner like a common hooker.  You’re Lucy Fazzone… that name holds some power even after everything and I mean to make better use of you than wearing you out on the end of factory worker’s dicks.”

Lucy was now truly unsettled.  “If you’re… if you’re not going to make me a whore then… why all the…”

Billy sat down on the edge of his desk.  “Lucky… they call you Lucky, right?”

Lucy nodded.

“Your friends, they didn’t do you any favors by letting you pretend you could ever be taken seriously as a mafioso.  All this women’s suffrage business, it’s made folks crazy.  Makes folks think that women have a place in leadership … and with guns in their hands, Christ!”  he laughed and soon Joey and Nickels joined him, as if he’d told some great joke.

Lucy couldn’t help but to let some of her indignation slip, “So you brought me here to belittle me for being a woman?”

Billy controlled his laughter.  “No.  No.  Listen, I’m not saying women don’t have their place in the mob… hell my mother was one tough bitch.  Plenty of them in this thing of ours, but you got to know how to work with what you were given.  There’s a reason they call ‘em Godfather’s and not Godparents.  You’re never climbing that ladder honey – that’s fact.  No dame will ever be a true Godfather … but plenty of Molls have bent the ear of Godfathers and they’ve fucking changed the course of the damn world and that’s a fact.”

Billy walked towards Lucy and took hold of her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes, “With the right teacher, I could take what God gave you and turn you into a force to be reckoned with Lucy Fazzone.  Men would line up to have a chance to be with you for a day, a night, a year… or a lifetime.  And what they tell you… my father could use to make our empire a great deal of money and power.  And what you can make the right men do – at the right time – could bring families and whole countries to their knees.  Can you imagine such power?” 

The way he said power… as if the word itself was seductive, it made her stomach turn.  Lucy didn’t want power.  Right now, all she wanted was to see another sunrise.  So, she did what he wanted, she nodded in agreement.

“Smart girl.”  He said and then he gave her the gentlest kiss she’d ever received from a man.  It was as if he truly felt something for her – even though she barely knew him at all.   He kept his face very near hers after the kiss was done and he asked in a husky whisper, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

What could she say?  What might he do if she screamed, if she fought him?  Even if she told him she hated him touching or kissing her – it could all end the same way. 

Pretend.  I just have to pretend.

Lucy pushed all the ugly what-ifs from her mind and lied, “No.  It was nice.”

He brushed a hand down her cheek, “Have you…?”  The eagerness in his eyes when she didn’t reply quickly was almost too much to bear and she was grateful when he looked away to Joey and Nickels.  “Get out.”  He told them.

“But Boss…”

 “Lucy and I will be just fine without a chaperone during this first lesson.”  He insisted to his muscle before taking note of Joey standing here with a, to his credit, horrified look on his face.  “And take him over to the row.  Set our newest Capo up in his office – welcome to the team Joe.  I’m sure you’re going to work out just fine.”

Nickels put his hand firm on Joe’s shoulder and pushed him towards the door, “Let’s go Capo – Boss wants some private time with his new Moll.”

Numbly Lucy muttered a phrase she’d come to say a lot in the years to come, “I’m no Moll…”

“What’s that Lucy?”

She swallowed back her protests as the door closed, leaving her alone with the Don.  “Nothing.”  She whispered.

He took her by the hand.  “Let me show you my room.  We can be a bit more comfortable in there.” 

There were 42 steps from Billy’s desk to his bed.

87 stained tiles on the ceiling.

The old light bulb flickered almost perfectly to the tune of Mary had a Little Lamb and if you looked at the scrap marks that was on one of the wood planks in the floor, in just the right way, you could almost see the shape of a little dog.

These were the thing that Lucy told herself she’d remember about what happened in that room.  Sadly, what we tell ourselves to survive and what is true years later… are seldom the same thing.

7am – Near St. Patrick’s Cathedral Chicago

Frank kissed Lucy for a long while.  All hint of her previous illness gone.  She was right as rain.  What a wonder his wife was! 

“Two shots.  To the body.”  Lucy reminded.  “This part isn’t personal.”

Frank laughed.  “I’ve done this a few times.”

Lucy sighed.  “Of course.  Please just… be safe.”

“It doesn’t get more straight forward than this – it’s you, in close quarters with those bodyguards I’m worried about.”  He put a hand on her belly. She covered his hand with her own. 

“We’ll be okay and as soon as this is done, no more craziness until after the littlest Dicaprio is safe in his or her crib.  I’m a Right Hand to a Godfather now… I can hide behind paperwork and order around gombas for a while.  No one will even know I’m taking a maternity leave of sorts.” 

Frank nodded.  “We’ll tell everyone soon?”

“When it’s done.  You can throw the biggest party and shout it from the rooftops if you want… I promise.”  She kissed him.  “I love you, Stud.”

He chortled.  “I love you, Lulu.”

“I hate that nickname.”  She laughed.

“Vengo per te.”  He touched the tip of her nose with his index finger, picked up his gun case and headed into the building across the street from St. Patrick’s.

“Aspetterò per sempre.”  She replied, not knowing if he heard.

7am – Southside, Chicago

“Wakey, wakey sleeping beauty.”  Finnigan gently shook Wrench’s shoulder.  He’d taken a shift of sleeping second.

Wrench got up and looked at the clock.  Bending his neck one way and then the other, he gathered his fringe jacket, put his guns back on, and pulled out his notepad to ask, “Anything happen?”

Finnigan shook his head.  “They’ve slept like babies.  Figure with the amount of rotgut they knocked back last night he should be out cold till noon… well, if we weren’t going to kill him first.  Should be simple – walk in, point, and shoot.  No more Vinnie.”

Wrench quickly wrote, “Nickels.”

“What about them?”  Finnigan asked.

Wrench scribbled down, “He doesn’t go by Vinnie.  A friend of mine downtown told me most folks around here known him only as Nickels.”

“Well, whatever he’s called on the street won’t matter pretty soon.  You good to go?”

Wrench nods and puts his notepad away. 

The Irish man and the Fringe Bedecked Mute made their way out of their hotel and out to the street. 

7am – Grant Park, Chicago

“Fido is literally the worst name for a dog ever.”

“Are we fighting about this?”  Charlie asked, amused.

“Don’t be silly – we can’t have a fight about a name for a dog that doesn’t even exist.”  Capazzo said, looking around the park for their target.

“Well, no… but what if we did have a dog?  Would we be fighting over its name?”

 “We don’t have dog.”

“But we could.  I mean, if we move in together.”  For a moment they looked into each other’s eyes.  There was a weight to the topic of OFFICIALLY moving into together as well as to the commitment of a shared pet.  Not that a dog was particularly difficult to care for, but the idea of sharing another life with Capazzo… that was something – real.  Something they’d share that would last for not just days or weeks but years.  It was a commitment.

Capazzo fussed with his hair.  The cool morning air and humidity was reeking absolute havoc on it!  “I’m more of a cat guy myself.”

Charlie smirked as she looked at Capazzo’s hair.  “Something told me you were.”

“There.”  Capazzo noted the Capo getting out of his car with his rather large dog. 

“Oh, he’s cute.”  Charlie said excitedly.

“What?”  Capazzo looked to Charlie.

“The dog.  The dog is cute.”

“Oh.” Capazzo gave it an uncertain look.

“You really don’t like dogs.” 

“Let’s just say when Red told me we were gonna kill a guy – I was okay with that.  When she said there was a dog involved… well, I almost wish she’d sent us after the sadist.”

“Well,” Charlie said with a smile, “Don’t worry… I’ll take out the big scary one then and you can handle the Capo.”  With that, as per the plan, she broke into a run – empty leash held tightly in her grip, calling out loudly for “FIDO!!!!!”

Capazzo watched her running across the lawn and then, headed down the path to his right.  Personal stuff would have to wait.  It was time to go to work.

7:10am – Near St. Patrick’s Cathedral Chicago

“Good Morning Lucy.”

“Good Morning Godfather.”  Lucy kissed the cheeks of 10-year-old Godfather, The Kid.  He offered her an ambulance driver’s uniform. 

“They give you any issues?”  she asked a she began slipping the uniform over her clothing.

“Nope.”  Chu, Kid’s loyal bodyguard remarked.  “Went down nice and easy.  They won’t find the bodies for a day or two.  Figure when they come around for the dumpsters.

“Good.”  Lucy said. 

“Where’s Katy?”  The Kid asked.

“Angela’s well on her way out to the countryside right now.  She’s got people to call if we don’t reach out to her by a certain time and a squad of our best men with her.  We didn’t take any chances with her safety.  Frank wanted to send her to Sicily – can you imagine?  He’s so protective.”

The Kid nods.  “I can imagine.  I might have sent her there too.”

“Our enemies have hands everywhere… I’m not letting my daughter get out of my reach ever again.”

“I can understand that too.  It’s 7:15. We should be getting a call any moment.  Shall we?”  The Kid climbed into the Ambulance and she ran around to the driver’s side.  Chu jumped into the back. 

This was really happening.  Lucy tried slowing her heart, which was racing madly.  By the time this day was over, everyone on her list – the final people who had directly wronged her… they’d all be in a grave.

Approximately 7 Years Ago – Southside, Chicago

Lucy slipped out of the bed slowly, constantly checking to see that Billy Durden was still fast asleep.  Trembling, she put on her shirt and fast as she could; her fingers fumbling with the buttons like a toddler learning to dress herself.  When she picked up her pants, she grit her teeth tightly as something fell from her pocket and clattered loudly to the floor.

Billy snored and rolled onto his side.  Tears rolled down Lucy’s cheeks.  Relief and fear rolled through her – she could literally feel ever beat of her heart in her ears as she struggled to put her pants and shoes on and then, looking to the floor, she found the object that nearly got her caught… a small pocket knife.

Picking it up, she only thought a moment before she unfolded it and walked over to the bedside.  It played out in her mind a dozen times before she decided how it had to be done.  If she’d been willing to risk getting caught she would have just shot him with his own gun on the night stand… but, with this knife, she might walk out with her life. 

In a swift motion she pushed the blade through his skin near his right ear, it popped in a satisfying way and his eyes snapped open in the same heartbeat.  With all her strength she pulled the knife hard through the muscle, sinew, and cartilage she found there.  He flopped and floundered, grabbing his throat and making noises that she would never forget.

Without a word, Lucy dropped the knife and did the only thing she could think to do – she ran away.

7:20am – St. Patrick’s Cathedral, Chicago

Frank pulled out his gun and began to put it together.  The smell of hops was as dear and familiar to him as Lucy’s perfume.  His gun’s body as frequently touched as his wife’s; in many ways, this was his other lover – someone he knew and relied upon utterly.  He could do this process, setting up for a hit, in his sleep.  As such his mind wandered back to the meeting, recalling the details that his wife had given to the team when planning this out just days before.

“Danny O’Bannon.  Capo of the Whitehill Gang.  One of Tyler Durden’s connections to the Irish Republican Army.”  She put a photo of the man down on the table.

Frank pulled his picture of his target out of the case and took a good long look at it.  There would be no second chances to get this right and he’d be damned if he fucked up this operation – regardless of what Lucy said, it was personal.  All of it.  These shits had threatened his family and that meant he had a bullet with each one of their names etched into it.  No one made threats against his wife and children and walked away from that - no one.

Pulling up his gun, he looked through the scope searching the steps of St. Patrick’s Cathedral.

“Every Sunday, like clockwork, O’Bannon and two of his bodyguards go to St. Patrick’s for confession before AM mass begins.  They are usually exiting the building by 7:20am.”

Every hitter worth his salt knew that more men were killed by strict schedules than by any other cause in all the world.  O’Bannon should have known better – but when you’ve done a thing for years, you get comfortable.  Power unquestioned for so long leads people to make mistakes someone who is new to power doesn’t make.  Frank told himself he’d never become so careless.  Women.  Children.  They could be careless, but not men.  Especially not husbands and fathers.

“His guys are usually two experienced IRA gunmen.  That sort won’t fall for what we’re setting up… so Frank, you’re going to need to do some footwork before-hand.  I hate to ask you to call in a favor from your contacts – but we need his bodyguards to be newer guys, so maybe something could keep his usual boys busy that Sunday?  Do you think your people in the IRA might be able to make that happen?”

The doors to the Cathedral opened.  O’Bannon was center, flanked by two boys that looked barely out of high school on high alert – their hands in their jackets as if they expected someone to foolishly jump out of the bushes.  Frank smiled as he noticed the street rats he paid off yesterday actually showing up to do their part.  A young newsboy aggressively hustling the Sunday Edition of the Chicago Sun Times and another begging one of the bodyguards for change. 

Frank drew a steading breath as he watched one bodyguard trying to chase off the angry beggar, and the other stepping away to shoo off the paper boy.  Cross hairs on Danny’s chest.  Following him down the steps towards his car.

Frank exhaled and squeezed the trigger.

Danny’s chest exploded.  Frank racked his gun, ejecting the first shell and immediately reading the second as the bodyguards raced back to the side of their boss.  The boys ran screaming, early parishioners for morning mass ducked behind their cars and some screamed for police and to get an ambulance.

Exhale.  Squeeze.

The bodyguards grabbed Danny’s floundering, bleeding body and Frank stopped watching through the scope.  He had to move.  It was in Lucy and The Kid’s hands now.  He hoped that Wrench, Finnigan, Capazzo, and Charlie were having just a good of luck as he’d had in getting his target.

Silently, as he ran out of the building – slipping away unseen by witnesses to the crime, he said a prayer for Lucy and their child’s safety.

Approximately 6 Years Ago – Northside, Chicago

Lucy shivered in the cold winter wind, her jacket pulled tight around her.  She had to get out of the wind if only for a little while.  There was a church just a mile up the road that she was sure she could go into for a few hours before they realized she was homeless and sleeping – not praying.  Lucy rubbed the small swell in her lower stomach and whispered, “I’m sorry kid… just a little further and we’ll be warm.”

A gust of winter wind took her knit cap from her short cut hair and caused it to tumble down the road.  “Damn it!”  She chased after one of her only garments that kept the cold off her body and protected her and the baby both from the elements.  At moments like this she missed her long hair but she had to cut it.  The red color was easily spotted from a distance by men who were still hunting her down for the condition she’d left Billy in.  She’d stabbed a Made Man and for that sin her life was forfeit – it didn’t matter what Billy had done to earn it.  Not even Old Man Whitehill could save her from the Durden Crew Leader’s wrath. 

So, her hat wasn’t just about staying warm, it was about staying alive.  Lucy rounded a corner into an alley and snatched her hat up out of the snow.  Putting it on she looked up to see Nickels standing there.

“Look whose luck finally ran out.” 

Lucy turned on her heels and ran as fast as she could but he was faster.  She hit the pavement with the full weight of a giant Sicilian man on her back.  She screamed out in pain and fear for her unborn child.  He flipped her over, Lucy begged, he grabbed her cheek and punched it so hard she thought he might rip it off.  “So fucking adorable you are!  You stab my fucking Don and you think I’ll stop?”

He punched her face.  Blood sprayed from her mouth and nose across the white snow.  She sobbed as he continued to make hamburger of her face.  Through the haze of pain she saw him, someone she’d been avoiding as much as Billy Durden himself.  Lucy smiled as she watched Giuseppe swing the baseball bat as hard as he could upside her attacker’s head.

Nickels’ body fell off her and she began to crawl away.  Giuseppe reached down to help her up.  “We’ve been looking everywhere for you Lucy.  Tommy’s been beside himself.” 

He wiped her off gently and in doing so moved her oversized coat enough to see the swell in her belly was more than a little extra weight put on.  His eyes went wide.

“I can’t go back.”  She sobbed, blood slobbering out of her lips as she tried to speak.

“Billy’s?”  He asked. 

Lucy didn’t reply.

“IS IT BILLY DURDEN’S?”  He asked forcefully, grabbing hold of her so not to let her run.

Not knowing what else to do, looking one of her only ‘family’ in the eyes, she nodded her blood covered face to indicate yes.

“Son of … Come on.  I’m gonna get you-”

“No.”  She said firmly.  “He’ll kill you.”

“I work for you now Lucy.”

“No one works for me… I’m a nobody… a dead nobody as soon as they find me.”  She tried to wipe the blood from her mouth and speak clearly.

Giuseppe scooped her up.

“You’re someone’s mother Lucy.  You’ll never be nobody again.  Mother’s don’t get that luxury.”

“I can’t keep it… I can’t…”

Giuseppe shushed her and held her tight as he walked down the street towards his car.  “I got somewhere you can stay till the tyke is born.  We’ll figure out what to do when the time comes.  Right now, let’s just get you out of this storm and cleaned up before Vinnie wakes up.”

“They’re going to kill you if he saw you.”

“Then you got no choice but to take me in… or you’re leaving me here to die.  So… do I work for you or not?”

“I can’t pay you.”  She said.  “I can’t even find enough cash to feed myself.”

“You’ll pay me back pay.  And when I’m old enough to retire, you’ll set me up good… back in the old country.”

Lucy laughed at the idea of her having the money or power to do such a thing.  “Sure… when I’m a Godfather… and millions to spare… I’ll set you up like no one’s ever been set up before.”

Giuseppe kissed her forehead and opened the car, putting her into the back seat.  “Then I’m your man Lucky Lucy, from now til the end.  I’ll take a bullet for you… give my life.  I swear it.  May I burn in hell if I ever betray you.”

“I don’t deserve you.”  She said to him as he took off his jacket to cover her up more.

“You let me decide what you deserve.  Just rest for now and try to stop that lip from bleeding.  It’s cut pretty bad.  Put pressure on it.  Here… like this.”  He moved her hand over the wound.  “Push hard.  I know it hurts… but you need to stop it.”

She nodded.  “I love you Giuseppe.”  She said through tears.  “I’m sorry I didn’t let you and Tommy know I was okay.”

“Forget it Kid.  In the past now.”

He kissed her forehead one more time and then shut the car door. 

7:20am – Southside, Chicago

Lacey slipped out of bed and grabbed her shit as fast as she could.  The big guy was out hard, just like she told them he would be.  She had bruises all over her body, so much so that she felt like a walking bruise.  She’d had rough John’s before, but this guy was one sick fuck.  If she didn’t know what was about to happen to him – she’d have shanked him herself.

Opening the door, she saw Finnigan there with a friend in a strange looking fringe jacket.  She went to him quickly. 

“Lacey – Jesus…”  Finnigan touched one of the bruises on her throat.  She winced.

“I’ve had worse.”

The man in the fringe pulled out a gun from inside his jacket.  Finn nodded and whispered, “I’m gonna make sure you get some time off Lacey.  Lay low for a few days until you hear from me.”  He slipped her a wad of bills wrapped in a rubber band.

She nodded, grateful he’d thought to pay her before going in to take on that freak of nature.  With payment in hand, Lacey ran down the hall and away from the bloodshed that was about to occur.

“Ready?”  Finnigan asked Wrench quietly.

“Vinnie Malone is a Capo of the Whitehill Gang and he’s one of Tyler Durden’s connections to the Old Country where Vinnie is a made man.”  Wrench remembered Lucy’s words about this guy at the meeting Friday night.  He nodded.

Finn pulled his gun and the two went through the door and leveled their guns at the sleeping form hesitating only a breath before both pulled the trigger at almost the same instant.  That should have been the end of it.  Bullets.  Blood.  Breakfast and on to the final job of the day… but it wasn’t.

“He was an enforcer for Billy Durden for years.  Tough old bastard.  As big as Giuseppe but twice as mean and ugly.  He’s a sadist of the worst sort so you’re going to want to shoot this guy.”

The big fucker actually moved! 

“Holy Shit!”

“This guy… he’s done things – things you don’t even want to know about, shit no self-respecting Mafioso would ever do … and he did it for fun.”

While he couldn’t say a word at the monster of a man getting up after eating two guns worth of hot lead, Wrench’s eyes went as wide as saucers.  He dropped his empty gun and pulled a garrote from inside his jacket.

“Do not get into hand to hand with this guy, gentlemen.  I’m being deadly serious here guys.  This is not someone you want to fuck with.”

Finnigan, without a melee weapon, grabbed the nearby lamp off the table by the door.  He backed up, hoping the raging giant would realize he was dead any second and just fall down. 

No such luck.

Blood covered teeth bared, the giant Sicilian roared like a lion as he lunged for Wrench.  Finnigan pulled his lamp back to swing. 

December 13^th 6 Years Ago – Rural Illinois

“Two days ago she was bleeding like a stuck pig.”  Giuseppe said, frantically at the doctor, standing outside of Lucy’s bedroom door.  “You told me that was normal.  Now you say she’s got a fever, she can’t stay awake long enough to feed the kid, she’s vomiting, fuck she smells like rot…”

The doctor pushed his way towards the door.  “She’s merely ill… she’ll come around.”

Giuseppe grabbed the man’s shoulder and spun him around.  “Look.”  He snarled and dropped his voice so not to scare Lucy or wake the baby again.  “I know what death smells like and I don’t need a fancy degree from a university to know that girl is dying – now what are you going to do about it?!?”

The doctor looked at Giuseppe’s eyes, and could see his own death looking back at him.  “The placenta had dislodged.”

“In English, Doc.”

“The womb, where the baby grew inside her.  It’s supposed to stay attached to her through the pregnancy but in some women – sometimes for no good reason, it detaches – but in Lucy’s case, she claims her own mother suffered from it and her grandmother died in childbirth from the same thing.  It likely runs in her family.  It can prove fatal for the mother or the child, but Lucy is a strong and healthy young woman… so, the baby lived.”

“And her?  What about Lucy?” Giuseppe insisted.

“She survived the worst of it… the post-birth hemor… bleeding.”  He remembered to keep his words simple for the Sicilian bodyguard to understand.   “Now there’s an infection.”

“Infection?”  Giuseppe clearly understood the danger of those.

The doctor nodded.

“Can you give her medicine?”

“Do I look like I work at a hospital?  I told you when you fetched me for this – I was an army doctor… this is hardly my area of expertise and I don’t have medicinals.”

“You know people – surly you know someone!”

The old man sighed and put a hand on Giuseppe’s shoulder.  “Anything you give her for pain or to treat the fever likely goes to the child through her milk.  You risk the child’s life to spare her pain… if she’s as tough as I think she is, she’ll muddle through.  Keep the cool compresses on her to keep the fever down.  Give her as much water as she’ll take – she needs it to feed the baby and because of the sweating.  Mostly, keep her as comfortable as possible and have someone come to wash her near the birthing area from time to time to keep the foul air from causing more complications.

“That’s all you’re going to do?”  Giuseppe said hopelessly.

“If she lives – tell her to never find herself this way again.  I doubt any woman is lucky enough to survive such a thing twice… or to come through it with a living child.”

Giuseppe nodded and opened the door for the doctor letting him out.  Upstairs the baby began to fuss.  Giuseppe walked up the stairs silently, trying to contain his emotions.  He wouldn’t let Lucy see him like this.  She needed to believe she was going to be okay – even if he didn’t think it could be.

Looking in the door at her, she was as white as the snow outside and covered in a river of sweat, yet she trembled like a leaf.  The smell in the room was putrid.  He wanted to open the window but was afraid of the chill hurting her or the tiny little girl who Lucy had not yet named and had only been awake enough to feed a few times.

Giuseppe walked to the crib and looked in on the perfect little girl.  Her bald head with its tiny wisps of fuzz covering it seemed impossibly small.  He’d never seen a baby so new before.

“Giuseppe?”  He heard Lucy rasp.

He ran to her bed.  “I’m here Lucy.  I’m here.  What do you need.”

“Water.”  She whispered.

He brought a cup of fresh water to her and helped her it up so she could sip it.

“I’m dying.”  She said when she took her mouth away. 

“No.”

“Like my mom.”

“No Lucy.  Listen, the doctor says that you’ve got a fever but you’ll recover.”

“You work for me?”  She asked him weakly.

He nodded.

“I order you…”  She swallowed, he could hear a clicking in her throat – it was that dry.  “Find Tommy.  Give him … give him the baby.  He must swear to never tell me where he takes it.  I can’t know so I can’t hurt her… if I live.”

“Lucy… are you sure?”

“I’m dying damn it… don’t … make me repeat myself.”  She took hold of her friend’s hand.

He nodded again.

“Don’t tell him… about Billy.  Please.”

“He’ll want to see you.”

She nodded.  “Fine.  But he must agree first.  He agrees or you don’t bring him.  Alright?”

“Do you… do you want to name her?”

Lucy shook her head no.  “She should have whatever name her mother gives her.  It’ll be easier for me… if I don’t know her name and… harder… for Billy to ever find her.”

Giuseppe wiped Lucy’s brow with a cloth.  “I’ll find Tommy, but first… you should try to feed her again.  She’s waking up and I’m sure she’s hungry.”

“Alright.”  She agreed.  Giuseppe picked Lucy up and propped her up in the bed.  Then, ever so gently – as if he was carrying the baby Jesus himself, the giant Sicilian brought the tiny babe to her mother.  Lucy opened her night shift and the child suckled like a pro.  He smiled down at Lucy and brushed her hair off her face as she looked down upon the child she’d brought into the world.  “I’m glad I got to see her.”

“Did your grandmother see your mom?”

“I don’t know.  I suppose she might have.  I never have met my mother’s father… he lives in Dublin.”  She leaned her head back on the headboard.  “I’m tired again.”

“I’ll hold you up and put the baby back when she’s done.”

“You’ll have a priest pray for me… when it’s over?”

“Lucy… you’re not going to die.  I won’t let you.”

“Promise?”  She said with her eyes closed.

“I promise.”  He said but he couldn’t be sure she heard as it seemed she was already fast asleep.

7:20am – Grant Park, Chicago

“He just got away from me.”  Charlie insisted.  “FIDO!”  She called out to a dog she knew would never come because he didn’t really exist.  He, like her flirtatious smiles and ‘helpless’ acting, were all for the benefit of one Sammy Gallo.

“Capo Sammy Gallo also known as controlling partner in Gallo and Hathaway Accountanting House.  Gallo cleans the money for and keep the books legit looking for all of Durden’s operations in the Windy City.  He does more with his pen for Durden’s operation than twenty guys with tommy guns.”

Lucy had explained the importance of Sammy being taking out today and while he wasn’t the most dangerous of the targets they were going to hit simultaneously this morning – to prevent Whitehill or Billy Durden from having a place to fall back to; that was no reason to take chances.  So, Charlie poured on the charm.

“It really means a lot to me… you helping me find Fido.  He was a gift from my dearly departed Father.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your father.  Surly your husband or boyfriend will help you find the dog if we aren’t able to this morning?”  The man was so obvious that it hurt.  What was it with men?  She’d almost felt bad about all this when she’d seen his pretty house and lovely young wife yesterday… but now, knowing the type of guy this one was, she could see why Durden liked having him around.  Like calls to like.

Charlie did her best fake laugh.  “Oh, no, I’m single.  I’m attending university to be a teacher.”

“Single?”  He said moving a little closer.  “Tell me… how do you feel about jazz and a little giggle water – to celebrate finding Fido of course.  Tonight maybe?”

Charlie rounded the bend to an isolated place near the bottom of a covered bridge.  She batted her eye lashes and reached out to take his hand with her off hand.  “I think I’d like that.”  She backed up until her backside was flat against the bridge.  She gave him those come-hither eyes she’d been perfecting with Capazzo – whose perfect hair could be seen coming around the hedges just behind the distracted Accountant.

The man moved on her, coming in for a kiss.  He closed his eyes, Charlie kept hers open.  The man dropped his dog’s leash as he moved to take her in his arms – the dog ran… STRAIGHT for Capazzo!  Teeth bared and growling the creature clearly must have sensed Capazzo’s intentions towards is master and like any good dog – he was going to act on that intuition.  Charlie hated it but one way or another this man was about to find out what was happening.  She reached for her gun only to find it wasn’t the accountant hadn’t dropped the leash to pull her into an embrace…

*click*

Charlie winced at the sound of her gun chambering a round and felt the muzzle go hard into her side.  He’d moved to disarm her.

“I don’t know who the hell you are doll, but no college dame I know carries a gun like this.”

*blam!*

Charlie winced, thinking he’d pulled the trigger on her only to realize it was Capazzo’s gun that had fired. She heard the dog go, “YIPE!”  and then fall silent.

“Next one has your name on it, Mother Fucker.  Now, let the nice lady go.”

Sammy spun around and put Charlie between himself and Capazzo.  Charlie could now see Capazzo with his gun trained on Sammy, the dog – dead between them on the ground.  Her heart was racing.  Not only because of the situation and her life on the line, but because they were on the clock now.   Gun shots would be reported.  If cops got here in time to find Sammy alive, the whole operation was screwed.

“This lady is my ticket out of here – hero.  I’d be an idiot to let her go… hmm.  Don’t I know you?  Shit.  I do know you.” 

“Then you know you’re not leaving this park alive.”

Sammy laughed.  “Normally I’d have a respectful line and an offer to do your books for you, being that you’re a Don and all, but if you’re here that means Godfather Varys isn’t willing to do business with my outfit.  So… it’s war.”

Charlie winced.

“If this was war, you’d know it.”  Capazzo said flatly – eyes still locked on Sammy watching for his opening.  “This is an execution.”

“You really have no idea…”  Sammy seemed serious for a moment.  All mirth melted out of his tone and his look at Capazzo was one of a man sentenced to death seeing a way out.  “Your people are in a huge amount of danger.  I could save you a lot of good hitters today… you bring me into your operation to do your books and I’ll tell you how.”

Charlie snarled, “Dead men will say anything for another minute of air.  Don’t listen to him Capazzo.  Put a slug in him.”

“You shoot, I shoot… pretty lady dies and you miss out on some very vital intelligence that could save your ass today.  I’m telling you – I’m not a hitter, I’m a business man.  This, what I know, it’s good business.  Just cut the deal.  If I’m wrong, you shoot me anyway.  What do you say?”

Capazzo gave it a moment’s thought and then, lowered and holstered his gun.  “I’m a Don.”  He said to Charlie.  “I’ve got people to think about now.”  He looked to Sammy.  “Let her go and let’s talk business.”

Charlie looked utterly exasperated.  She couldn’t believe that Capazzo was doing this!  This wasn’t like him at all.  Of course, he’d do what he could to protect her, but they still had the upper hand – why would he cave to the demands of this worm now?

“Tyler Durden is in town this morning.”  Sammy said lowering Charlie’s gun, but still keeping it in his hand, ready to fire. 

Capazzo showed skepticism.  “My people would have told us – we have eyes at all the airports watching for him.”

“The Godfather came to town with his whole damn gang… train cars.”

Charlie’s mouth fell open.  “Train cars?”  She said, her eyes looking down and to the left, muddling through why the hell he’d come in via rail.

“Cars.” Capazzo repeated.  “How many soldiers does he have with him?”

“Rumor has it… 300.”

Charlie gasped.

“Mostly gombas really – foot soldiers really.  Meat shields for the upper structure.”

“With numbers like that …”  Capazzo began.

“He means to take the city from Godfather Varys.”  Charlie finished.

“Yea but… even with those numbers, even with a foothold here alraedy, he can’t do it alone.”  Capazzo rubbed the bridge of his nose puzzling out the problem in front of him.

“See.”  Sammy said proudly.  “I told you I could be useful.  I know things.  I watch where all the money goes… I know who he’s been paying off inside the city – who’s ready to turn traitor and who you need to watch out for. - there are families here who want you dea-”

Capazzo, without warning, quick drew his gun like a cowboy from a motion picture and pulled the trigger.  Sammy, with a hole between his eyes, fell to the ground unceremoniously.  Charlie startled at the sudden and emotionless brutality Capazzo exhibited.

“He had more to tell!”  Charlie said.

“He put a gun to you.  And besides... we don’t have time to listen.  We’re three minutes behind schedule for the meet up, and Durden is in town with an army.  This whole operation is compromised, we need to tell Red.  We’re walking into some death trap & the families of Chicago need to be warned – Tyler Durden is coming.”  Capazzo walked over and picked up Charlie’s gun from Sammy’s body.  He offered it to Charlie and accepted the kiss she planted on his lips – for far shorter of a time than he would have liked.

Taking her hand, the two ran back towards the car, leaving his men to get rid of the body before the cops would arrive.

7:23am – Southside, Chicago

Blood ran down the monstrously thick neck as Wrench tried every trick he knew to cut harder and faster.  His knees planted firm in the small of his back, Wrench looked more like he was riding a bull than trying to kill a man.  He pulled so hard upon the garotte that it was cutting his own hands to the point of bleeding and somehow it seemed this man was utterly unstoppable. 

In front of the Nickels, Finnigan was dodging a flurry of left and right hooks that should have been utterly impossible for the man to throw.  He had been shot, was being strangled, and had a grown man on his back like a monkey! 

Finnigan landed earthshattering blow upon blow to the core of his body with no response.  Wrench was making progress, but it was slow going and it was impossible for Wrench and Finnigan to coordinate without Wrench being able to hear or speak.  In many ways, they were each fighting the large Sicilian Capo alone.

Nickels, or Vinnie as they had been given his name by Lucy, threw himself backwards.  He slammed Wrench hard against the wall, almost putting him through the window.  Wrench’s head bounced off the wall in a sickening way, dropping to the floor, losing hold of the garrote.  Meanwhile, Finnigan grabbed a wooden desk chair and smashed it over the Nickels’ head, causing the first real success they’d had since getting into the room. 

The Sicilian went to his knees.

“FUCK ME!”  Finnigan exclaimed.  “Lucy said he’d be hard to kill but this … this ridiculous!”

Wrench pulled himself up the wall, a hand to his head to steady his vision, before gathering the wherewithal to spot and grab their target’s gun off the night stand, turning just in time to read Nickels’ lips,

“How’s Lucky these days?”  Nickels laughed. 

Wrench put the gun to the back of the man’s head execution style, he nodded at Finnigan as if to say, ‘ask him what the hell that’s about.’

“What my friend said!”  Finnigan said, still catching his breath.  “What the fuck do you care about Lucy?”

Nickels looked up and locked eyes with Finnigan.  There was something hallow about this man’s gaze.  Most men, when the faced death, they had a look of terror, relief, or satisfaction, but this man… it was as if there was no one behind his eyes at all – as if they’d been fighting a true monster out of a dime store horror this entire time.

“No matter how this ends – we’ve already won.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”  Finnigan asked.  Wrench narrowed his eyes, clearly curious but unable to see the lips of the man kneeling before him.

“It means you’re all dead men.  You just don’t know it yet.”  He nods towards his briefcase open on the table.  Finnigan walks over to give it a sideways glance, not wanting to fully take his eyes off the man Wrench is holding at gunpoint.  He spies a dossier within.  He opens the file.  A name on a note within jumps out at him... the note reads, "Tyler Durden – Rail Depot 23" followed by "Sunday 6am.”

Finnigan’s face went paler than his usual Irish crème.  As the Irishman turned his full attention to the dossier; Nickels began to laugh, wheezing and trembling from blood loss.  Wrench didn’t wait for Finnigan to explain.  Life without sound had taught him many things – primary among them was that some things didn’t require words.  Some things were just so good or so terrible that a man knew, without explanation, just what he had to do. 

He pulled the trigger and ended it.

Finnigan turned back to Wrench, holding tight to the information the Capo had in his possession; evidence detailing out an unholy alliance that had occurred while they were all looking westward toward places like LA and Las Vegas. 

Wrench picked up his garotte and arched an eyebrow at Finnigan as he moved for the door.

Finnigan looked down at the papers again, just to be sure, examining the business deeds, the titles, the signatures of two men who should NEVER have been allowed to become allies. 

He shook his head.  “We need to get across town and show this to the others, before something very bad happens.”

7:53am – An Ambulance on Chicago Streets

“This isn’t the way to the hospital!” 

Those were the words that Chu & The Kid had been waiting for the entire ride.  Lucy smiled and began down a road that took them into a residential area – one with a few farms.  The street had been chosen for its round-about path to the hospital, but once past the point of no return, she knew there was a very good chance that things would get messy with the bodyguards.  A stray bullet could end her – or her child – or any of them really.  The executions of Danny’s bodyguards had to be flawless and she’d put a lot of faith in The Kid and his bodyguard.

The Kid popped from where he’d been hiding in the passenger seat.  Lucy couldn’t see how they handled the bodyguards but only two guns fired and Danny was giving an audible reaction now.   Lucy could see three cars on the side of the road and leaning against one was her handsome husband who had driven a direct route here.  Lucy pulled over and reached into her pocket.

She climbed into the back, moving past The Kid as she did.  Stepping over a dead body of a young Irish bodyguard.  She leaned over the table.  “Hello Danny.”  She said in a chipper voice.  “Wow, Frank did a number on you.  If we were giving points… I’d say this one.”  She drilled her finger into one of the bullet holes.  He screamed and trashed in the restraints. 

“Was worth Twenty-Five … but this one… a lung shot maybe?”   She put her finger into the second hole and smirked.  “Fifty.”

The Kid and Chu opened the back doors and began helping Frank and Vito pull the dead bodyguards out to position them around the cars – to make it look as though the ambulance had been ambushed. 

Lucy opened the knife she’d pulled from her pocket.  “I slit Billy Durden’s throat with this… damn thing wasn’t long enough to kill him right away, but if there had been more time… he would have bled out.”  She leaned down to whisper to Danny.  “Your friends in the IRA sold you out Danny.  See, they like me a whole lot these days… what with my Grandpapa’s new position and Breen being out and all.  They wanted me to know who told Billy that Tommy was working as a mole.  So… I just have one question and it determines if you die from a final shot to your head – quick and clean… or a slow bleed from the throat or maybe drowning in your own blood because that REALLY sounds like a lung shot to me.”

She waited a moment, making sure he was listening and focused.  “Who told you that Tommy made an oath to me?  Was it lucky guess?  Did someone know something?  If so… how?”

“Fuck you.”  He wheezed.

“Not the answer I’m looking for Danny.  One more try…”  She brushed the cold steel blade down Danny’s cheek.  “Who and how?”

Outside Lucy could hear that a car was approaching fast – the gang outside was getting their guns ready. 

“Lucy!”  The Kid called.  “We got company.”

“Fuck me.”  She growled.  “WHO!”  She yelled in Danny’s face pressing the knife into his throat.

“Tyler Durden … is coming … for his grandkid… Bitch.”

Lucy had heard things like this a few times now.  Tyler was doing everything he could to let every low level street punk know and for once, Lucy had the joy of silencing it.  She pressed the knife into his throat and slit him ear to ear.

“It’s Charlie and Cap!”  Frank called out.

“Hold your fire!”  The Kid called out.

Lucy got to the back of the ambulance. 

“RED!”  Capazzo was calling out to her before he was fully out of the driver’s side door.

Behind her she could hear Danny drowning, she didn’t look back.  She hopped out.  “You’re not supposed to be here.”  She said, confused and worried.  Had they failed?

“Tyler Durden.”  Capazzo said flatly.  “He’s here.”

“What?”  Lucy looked to Charlie who nodded from her place standing at the passenger side door of Capazzo’s car.  “Why?”

“He’s making a play for the city … today.”  Capazzo was calm, but he looked ready to chew steel if she asked it.

“Fuck me.”  The Kid said quietly.

“More saber rattling?”  Frank asked.

“Doubtful.”  Charlie threw in.  “He’s got 300 men coming in via the rail system, according to Sammy Gallo.”

“You talked to him?”  Lucy asked Capazzo.

He nodded.  “Good thing we did… he tried to buy his life with that intel.”

Lucy looked to The Kid, “You don’t have time to get hitters here, do you.”

The Kid shook his head no.  “Even by plane, it’s two hours because of going around the damn lake.  I’ll put in the call but it may be over before our people put boots on the ground.”

Frank shook his head no,  “That may be the point.  If Gallo is lying he may be hoping to draw your hitters out of Detroit before they’re settled in.  We can’t lose Detroit… he’d cut off our shipping routes to Europe of he could.  We’d lose millions.”

Lucy checked her watch.  “Wrench and Finnigan will be waiting soon.”

“Durden will likely be at his son’s hideout – likely the bulk of his best hitters too.”  Lucy looked to her husband, “Am I crazy?”

“Only if I am too.”  He smirked, proud of his vicious and brilliant wife.

“It'll be dangerous as fuck.”  He shrugged.  “But he’s coming for us either way.  Right now, we still have a working plan and the advantage of foreknowledge and surprise.  You get word to the Godfather, he sends the soldiers from the families to the rail stations… while we hit the heart of the operation as planned.”

“Send Vito.”  She ordered.  Frank didn't hesitate once the voice of his wife was gone and the authority of the Right Hand of the Godfather made her mind known.  He immediately turned to go talk with his brother.  Looking to Capazzo Lucy said, “If you need to go lead your family, I understand.  Family has to come first in times like these - you can go, with my blessing.”

“They’ll take orders from the Godfather just like they were from me.  They’re loyal men and women, all of them.  Besides, you don’t stand a chance without me, Charlie, and Wrench.  If I pull out now, you’re down half your team.  No chance, Red.  I want my shot at Durden, same as the rest of you – this is the sort of thing they tell stories about for years to come.”

Lucy nodded.  “Alright then…"  She took a deep breath.  "Let’s do this.”

16 Years Ago - Chicago

“Stop shooting!  STOP SHOOTING!  THERE’S A LITTLE GIRL INSIDE!” 

Blood!  So much blood! 

“Daddy…?”  Lucy touched her Daddy’s face, with her crimson stained finger tips, as he pinned her under the dashboard of the car they'd traveled to this place in together.  She'd failed him.  She couldn't reach the peddles.  She couldn't drive them to safety and now he was staring up at nothing – not blinking, not breathing. 

“FUCK ME!"  She could hear voices outside the car as the hail of gunfire finally stopped after what seemed forever.  "I didn’t know Old Man I swear it!”

“Is she alive?”

Lucy wished that she wasn't.  She sobbed.

“I don’t know – son of bitch… did you hear that?”

A bunch of voices she didn’t know, all above her, now stood just outside the car.

“Daddy?"  She whispered. 

"Daddy I hurt…."  Still no reply. 

"Daddy I’m scared… wake up please…”  Lucy cried and tried to say more but it hurt so much.  It hurt to breathe.  Looking down on her father’s face she could see, now, the truth.  They were going to heaven to be with Mama.

“Get him off her and get her out of the car – we need to look her over.  What the hell am I supposed to tell Enna, you dumb shits!?!”

The men began reaching for her father. 

"No... no..."

She took hold of him but the men were too strong and almost immediately they had him sliding off her.  Desperate she latched onto the sleeve of his shirt, but the only thing she managed to retain was the small metal cufflink he was wearing.

“DADDY!”  She tried to scream but it was as if someone was blowing bubbles in milk inside her chest.  She couldn’t breathe.

“God Boss… she’s hit bad.”  A man with silver hair was looking down on her now, he was all she could see through her tears and the pain.

“You want me to…?” another voice asked.

Lucy kept trying to speak, to call for help – for her mama, for her daddy, for even Jesus… but only bubbles came.

“Is this how I’ve raised you?  We don’t kill kids no matter what Enna wants.  Not so long as I’m in charge.” 

Trying to protest as they pulled her out next, Lucy clutched tightly to her father’s cuff-link until at last she lost all ability to think, speak, or hear.  Blissful sleep took her, relieving her of the pain – at least for a time.

8:41am – Warehouse District of Chicago

“We’ll need to make a move soon, Red.”  Capazzo said looking through a pair of binoculars.  He handed them to Lucy.  Lucy looked down on the parking lot to the building they meant to infiltrate today.  There were three more cars than ten minutes ago. 

“The sun gets higher, the more of them wake up and arrive.  Unless you want to cut your way through the whole of Durden’s army… we need to make some tough decisions soon.”  Capazzo insisted.

“Finn and Wrench still aren’t here.  Even if they come in behind us, they will have no idea about Tyler Durden’s gang – it could get them killed not having that information.”  Charlie interjected.

“We have to consider the possibility that the Durdens found Wrench and Finnigan somewhere between here or the point of their original hit.”  Frank offered.

“Half a dozen cars,” Kid said doing math on his fingers.  “Plus, how many living in the facility?” 

“A dozen that we know of.”  Lucy told him as she scanned the area around the building.

“If the cars only had two people in them…” Kid said thoughtfully.

“Which isn’t likely.”  Charlie added.

“But, for the sake of an estimate… that means another twelve men.  That’s… twentyyyy… four.  Two dozen.  Two dozen of them and six of us without Finn and Wrench.  Let’s be honest – we may be in over our heads Lucy.”

Lucy drew a breath.  “Two minutes.  Give me two minutes… then I’ll have a plan.” 

She walked away from the group who kept talking.  She pulled out of her pocket a small object, one which she couldn’t have come to do this without.  It was bronze and oval, simple in the way it was made.  The cufflink without a mate wouldn’t have been worth much in the pawn shops, but to her it was priceless.

The story of the many people to have worn it over the years was spelled out in the tiny dents and imperfections upon its face.  Lucy rubbed her thumb over it gently and looked down into the eyes of Saint Christopher who was holding one child on his shoulder, while another – older – clung to his leg. 

“I need your help Dad.  In Sicily, it was simpler.”  She looked at Frank across the distance – her eyes softening as she watched him connecting and building a real relationship with the other people she loved in this life.  Then, as if he could feel her eyes upon him, he turned to look at her.  He gave her a reassuring smile. 

Looking back to the cufflink she continued, “These people, I’ve come to love them as family.  I can’t mess this up.  Please… show me how to protect them, and avenge you still.”

“There’s a car!”

Lucy looked back to the group at the sound of Charlie’s exclamation. 

Charlie laughed.  “It is… it’s them!”

Lucy kissed her father’s cufflink and put it into her pocket then trotted across the yard to where the guys were getting out of the car.  Both looked like they’d had one hell of a morning.  She opened her mouth to speak, but Finnigan spoke first.

“Durden is here.” 

“We know.”  Frank said. 

Wrench was signing furiously and Lucy found herself trying to take in Finnigan’s words and Wrench’s signs at the same time – which was almost as impossible as having both men speaking to her at the same time in rapid fire.

“Stop.”  She finally said.  “One at a time please.”

Finnigan looked at Wrench.  An unspoken exchange between them and then surprisingly it was Wrench who spoke first.  He began to sigh and Lucy spoke allowed so the whole group could take it in.  “Tyler Durden is here, his gang, they’re here to take the city and they have help.”

Lucy’s voice trailed off in confusion. 

“Help?” Capazzo inquired.  “Which family?  Who turned?”

Lucy blinked hard and said simultaneously with Charlie as Wrench spelled out “Botticelli.”

“Son of a-” Capazzo turned away from the group, pacing. 

“They’re not here obviously – not enough cars.”  The Kid pointed out.

Frank nodded.  “We’re still ahead of the game.  We’ve still got surprise and with Godfather Varys and the other families in the streets … it’s your call Lucy.”

“Get your guns.”  Lucy walked over to Finnigan while everyone grabs their weaponry, “How did you learn about the Botticelli Family allying with Durden?”

“Weirdest damn thing,” he reaches into the car to pull out the Dossier.  He hands it to Lucy.  She begins to flip through it quickly browsing.  “That was with Nickels.”

Lucy froze at the name.  “He tell you that was his nickname?”

“Nah.  We got people who knew him.”  Finnigan lowered his voice.  “Why didn’t you tell us that you two had history?  We could have gone after Danny if he was personal to you.”

Lucy shook her head.  “He was just a guy who put hands on me once or twice.  Nothing like the guys inside here.  I’m glad you’re okay though.”  She shakes the dossier at him.  “This is very good intel though – if we live through this, remind me to put you guys in for some appreciation with the Godfather.”

Frank rolled out the building’s floor plan on to the hood of his car and begins to explain the situation, “Alright, by the look of the cars down there – the largest number of them is likely down by the offices. There’s two vestibules in the front … the one the cars are near to breaks off into two hallways which lead to offices and conference rooms… at the back of each hall way is doors into the storage areas and the loading docks beyond that.”

Lucy leaned in and looked down at the plans, occasionally nodding as her husband went on, “The second vesitble opens into two hallways as well but we have no idea what these rooms are meant to be used for – they weren’t labeled on the plans my people dug up on the place.”

“Living space?”  Capazzo offered as he came up behind Lucy.

“Most likely if they are using the other side of the building for offices and meeting rooms.  Seems right too when you consider most of the cars down there are visitors.  Whitehill’s men operate out of this place night and day though so there was bound to be some enemy combatants inside no matter what.  At the back, again, storage areas and loading docks.”  Frank finished looking around at the group.

“What the hell are they supposedly shipping out of there?”  Charlie asked.

Frank nodded, as if he expected the question.  “Packaging for meat markets.  It’s likely that really is going on … but I’d bet my shirt that there is probably a decent sized drug front here as well.” 

“They’ll likely have cover on the back-loading docks.”  Lucy said.  “I’d put bigger guns back there but probably lighter cover.  We could start back there and hope to walk our way through quietly – take out as many as possible being stealthy – like our first Boticelli job under Nikki.”  Lucy says looking to Capazzo.

He nodded in return.

“Might be better to split us up.”  Finnigan chimed in.  “Something to draw out the masses of foot soldiers so you can be sure to hit the primary targets for certain.”

Lucy looked to Finnigan, his rogueish smirk spoke mountains, “And you have an idea?”  Finnigan nodded.  “Yea.  I do.  Might need the Kid though… he looks small enough for my purposes.”  He looked to the 10 year old.  “What do ya say?  Wanna help me make a distraction Godfather?”

Kid looked far too eager, “You bet!”

“Finnigan, Kid, Chu the moment you hear something going down inside, and I doubt gunfire will be silent in these big tin buildings, you do whatever it is you got planned to get them off us.  Frank, Charlie, Capazzo, and Wrench you’re with me … we’ll take as many down quietly as we can.  Folks … I don’t think I need to tell you all what’s at stake here.” 

Putting her hand in her pocket to rub her father’s cufflink for reassurance and strength - Lucy looked to each person in turn.  She was trying to remember ever line on their faces, every curve and contour of their bodies – committing them to memory for fear that this moment would be the last time she spoke to any of them ever again. 

“If Tyler Durden has his way, none of us will have a place in this new Chicago of his.  Everything we know and everyone we love is in danger now.  You all came here to help me finish avenging my family, and I thank you for that; but this is no longer about the dead.  This is no longer about a family I can’t touch, see, or hear.  This is about all of you - all of us – and the family we’ve become to each other.”

Lucy took her hands out of her pockets and looked towards Durden’s HQ.  “So, let’s show these sons-a-bitches what family really means here in the Windy City.”

16 Years Ago - Chicago

“Lucy?” 

Light.  Bright white and brilliant.  Noises.  Confusing, distant as if through water.  Blink.  A blurry face.  Focus. 

Tommy. 

“Lucy can you hear me?”  Tommy took hold of Lucy’s hand and held it as he stood at the side of her hospital bed.

Lucy nodded.

“You’re alive!”  Tommy hugged her gently.

“My Dad?”  She asked through dry lips.  It hurt to speak, though she had no idea why.

Tommy’s face went pale and his lips worked, but no sound came out.

Giuseppe came up behind him and put his large hand onto his young cousin’s shoulder.  “He didn’t make it Lucy.”  Tommy gave Giuseppe a look that seemed to be anger – maybe confusion.  Lucy felt neither of those things.  She knew she should want to cry or scream but instead she couldn’t feel anything but cold.

“You’ve been sleeping a long time Lucy.  We were all really worried you wouldn’t wake up.”  Tommy squeezed her hand, “But I’m sure glad you did.”

She looked away from Tommy.  His face was just a reminder that she was now like the boy she’d always felt so bad for … an orphan.  She considered all the ways she might get to heaven to join her parents.  Not eat?  Maybe just sleep forever?  Could someone just die from sleeping too much?  Lucy pulled up the covers and tried to roll away from Tommy.

“Come on, Kiddo.”  Giuseppe said gently.

“Lucy – believe me, I know how you feel right now but you can’t do this.  It doesn’t stop – it never stops Lucy, but you find reasons for it to get better.  You’ll find people and things you care about and eventually you stop thinking about it all the time.  That’s gonna hurt at first but, thankfully, you eventually stop hurting about that.”

Silence.  Lucy hoped he’d just go.  She didn’t want to talk right now – maybe never again. 

“She just needs some time.” Giuseppe insisted to Tommy.  Lucy couldn’t see them with her back turned but she heard them moving towards the door and while she did want them to leave – the fact that they were doing it, leaving her alone, made white hot tears well up in her eyes.

“No.”  Tommy said.  Lucy’s heart quickened as she heard Tommy’s words and his footfalls running back towards her.  “I won’t leave her.”

She could hear Giuseppe’s heavy sigh.

Then something surprising.  She felt the bed move.  Looking over her shoulder, Tommy slid into the bed with her.  “I’m not leaving until you do, Red – and you will.  You’re the toughest of all the girls.”

Lucy rolled her eyes.  Not the toughest kid he knew… but the toughest girl.  Boys really were stupid, even when they were trying to make you feel better they still messed it up.

Giuseppe walked back into the room, digging into his pocket.  “Maybe this will help.”  He offered an object to Lucy but she couldn’t make herself want to lift an arm to take it.  What could he possibly have that could matter to her on a day like today?

Tommy reached up and took the object and showed it to her.  Small, bronze, and so familiar.  She’d seen her father put them on every morning for years.  They were his father’s before him, one of the only things her father had of his father who had died when he was young.  The cufflink she’d pulled off his shirt as they’d taken him out of her arms.

The tears came like water roaring through a break in an old damn.  Tommy, confused, hugged her as she took the cufflink and held it close to her.  She cried for what seemed like hours in Tommy’s arms before managing to find her voice.

“Where’s… where’s the other one?”

Giuseppe shook his head.  “I looked all over the car, the grounds, and … they even let me check him before he was taken away… I’m sorry Lucy.  I couldn’t find it anywhere.  It must have gotten lost somehow.”

Lucy wept again.  Even this, the last bit of him she had, was no longer complete.  Like the ties to her blood - the set was broken and she, like the other cufflink, was lost. 

“We hang onto what we can.”  Tommy whispered into her hair near her ear.  “And we don’t let go.”

Lucy nodded staring down upon the beautiful metallic face of St. Christopher.  She remembered the day her father told her that her Grandfather had been given the cufflinks by her Great Grandfather on the day he left Sicily to travel the long distance to America because St. Christopher watched over all travelers and kept them safe.  Her father also told her, that like St. Nicolas and Saint Pancras … Christopher watched over children and it was for this reason her mother gave the cufflinks to him as a boy – to keep him safe.

Lucy wondered if that was why her father had died and she had lived.  Had St. Christopher kept her safe?  Her father would have prayed that in his final moments, she decided, when he saw her in the car and realized the danger she was in. 

She rubbed her thumb across the cool metal and inhaled a ragged tear-filled breath.  “He’ll keep us safe.”  She told Tommy.  “He doesn’t let bad things happen to kids.”

“Who is he?”

“St. Christopher.  He wasn’t always a Saint though.  He started out as a bad man.”

“A mobster?”

Lucy shrugged. 

“Why don’t you tell us about him?”  Giuseppe said, pulling up a chair.

Lucy spoke in a whisper, “One day he found this priest and he saw how happy the guy was and so he asked him why he was so happy and the priest told him about Jesus.  So, Christopher became a Christian and started helping people cross this river to do good deeds.  One day the river flooded really bad and a little kid came to the river bank.  It was too deep for the kid to walk through the water so… Christopher carried him on his back.  The kid got heavier and heavier until Christopher thought he might drop him in the water, but he kept going and pushed on to the other side.”

“Sounds like a tough guy.”  Giuseppe said.

Lucy nodded.  “But it wasn’t just any kid… it was Jesus and the reason he was so heavy is because Christ carries the weight of the world in his arms.  Bearing the weight of Christ was Christopher’s test of faith.  And he didn’t stop.  He didn’t let the kid down – no matter how hard it got.” 

Images flashed through her mind of her father being shot again and again and how he kept coming towards her hiding place in the car.  She didn’t know if she remembered or imagined the look on his face.  Determination.  Unyielding commitment to her protection.  Love and guilt.

Tommy hugged her tight.  She leaned into him, accepting his affection.

“Thank you for bringing this back to me. I’m never going to let it go again."  She put it up to her lips and kissed it, "Never.”

8:41am – Warehouse District of Chicago

“How old is she?”  Billy Durden asked looking at the photos of a little girl at play, laid out before him.

“Six.”  Tyler said, taking a long drag off his cigarette, slowly exhaling a thick cloud of smoke.  “How the fuck did you not know about her?”

“Lucky Fazzone went missing years ago.  I hadn’t heard anything about her until she showed up here in town one night as Nikki Swango’s Consigliere, sniffing around my guys down at the gym.”  He could see his mother in the girl’s face.  She had been pretty and kind, a gentle and respectable woman who was taken from the world too soon.  Those eyes, however, those were the eyes of the woman who had nearly robbed him of his voice – and his life.  He reached a hand up to his neck and rubbed the scar. 

“My people say she left town with Dicaprio’s men early this morning.  They’re following, but won’t approach until they hear from me.  Once we’ve secured the city and I’m Godfather, we’ve move in to bring her home to you.”

Billy shook his head.  “I still can’t believe I’m a father.”

Tyler smiled at his son.  “I know the feeling.”  He smashed out his cigarette on the warehouse floor.  “It’ll all be over soon, and you can be together like a proper family.” 

Tyler walked past Marla and to the chair across from his son.  Sitting down at the rickety old table, he spoke, “The Master of Whispers isn’t as strong as he wants people to think and now with half his best sent to secure Detroit, the city is ripe for the pickings.  No more eating scraps from the tables of the six cities – today we claim a seat at the table once and for all and… that means good things for you my boy.”

 “I want to move you up to where you belong.  Today, when I put a bullet in the head of that dickless freak; I want you at my Right-Hand.  Father and Son.  We will claim the Windy City together.”

Marla abruptly left the room, Robert Paulson watched her go, but made no move to follow.  Tyler never looked away from Billy, who was smiling.  “You mean it?  What about Marla?’

Tyler shrugged.  “It’s past time she leads her own crew, but this…”  He pointed to a photo of Katy. “This is the beginning of our real family.  My son has children.  The man who carry’s my blood and my name.  Your mother – God rest her soul – would have wanted this for you, me, and little Katy.”

Billy nodded with pride.  “I’ll do it.  I’d be proud to accept a position at your Right Hand … Father.”  Billy stood up from his seat, still holding the photo of Katy. 

“Where you going?”  Tyler asked.

“Need to take a whiz before Botticelli gets here.”

Tyler nodded and Billy headed for the door, looking occasionally at the photo of the pretty little girl.  He brushed his thumb down the side of her cheek as he walked down the aisles of boxes piled high along seemingly endless rows of shelves.  The john was at the far back of the building, past the processing lines, near the exit.  He’d walked the path so many times he didn’t need to look away from her pretty smile and green eyes; instead he chose to imagine what he he’d say to her and how she might react.  The toys and gift’s he’d shower her with – this perfect treasure of his that he didn’t even know existed until now.

“Kathleen.”  Billy tried her proper name out, to see how it felt saying it.  “My sweet Katy.”  He said a bit more affectionately.

Pain erupted across his jaw as his neck snapped violently to the right.  The fist that had impacted his face had done so with such herculean force that he felt a tooth come free inside his mouth and blood flood within.

“My Katy.”  Another man growled before advancing on the place where he had backed away towards.  He opened his mouth to speak, to yell for his bodyguards, but blood and teeth fell out instead.  He looked at the ugly Dagowop in front of him.  He expected the dumb fucker to pull a gun, he would have pulled his if he hadn’t left it on the damn table with his father, but instead he held up his fists as if he meant to end this with his bare hands. 

His mistake.

Billy rushed the other man grabbing his head between his hands and pulled him downward hard, against his knee.  His nose made a satisfying crack, twisting to the left.  Billy pulled back and wiped a bit of his blood from his mouth and showed it to his attacker as if to say, ‘Now we’re even.’

“You must be @Frank-Dicarprio …”  Billy chuckled, half-choking on his own blood.  He pulled up his fists and readied himself for the man who had tried to force his dirty grape-stomping name on his little girl.  Billy plowed his fists into the man’s gut repeatedly, twin freight-trains smashing into a solid wall of muscle that was the other man’s abdomen.  He imagined the blood vessels bursting beneath his blows, the bruises forming, and kept on despite the punishment his own body was taking.

“And you’re a dead man.”  His attacker said, landing a blow on the side of his head, near his temple.  Billy saw stars, so many that a field of white covered all his vision for more than a few heartbeats.  He continued to batter his foe, even though he couldn’t see – but his opponent kept coming.  Billy found himself backing away.

Suddenly, something was there, behind him – on the floor.  Unexpected, Billy tried to leap over it, but lost all balance and went down hard on the cement floor.  Frank was on top of him instantly, his hands wrapping around his throat where Lucy had sliced him open all those years ago. 

Billy flailed, trying to get free.  Panic was setting in.  It hurt and was nearly impossible to control his breathing.  His lungs began to burn as though liquid fire had been poured down his mouth and nose and he was being kept from expelling it.  Above him, Frank’s eyes watched him, unblinking as he tried with no success, to free himself.

It was then he saw her.  He couldn’t have been sure if it was the lack of oxygen or if the bitch really was there – but her red hair and those eyes were unmistakable.  She just looked down at him and watched with that same empty look on her face that he could remember from all those years ago.  He would have smiled, would have said something horrible and witty and barbed – if not for the absolute terror of dying.

He tried to pull Frank’s hands free, but in the end, he had no hope of doing so and unconsciousness took him before he could see the face of the reaper.

A SHORT TIME LATER

Tyler cleaned his nails with a switch blade.  He was calm, despite the insane rantings of Marla.  He’d expected her to take this about as well as a surprise fist in the ass.

“I chose you, I LOVE you and – and he didn’t earn this!  I’ve earned this.  I fill your pockets!  I’m your top earner consistently and how do you reward my loyalty?  You ignore my advice when it’s given to protect you!  You’ve got blinders on Tyler!  Blinders!  He doesn’t know SHIT about leadership.  You give him this position when he’s been with us for like two minutes!”

“We both know what this is really about Marla.  You’re still jealous of my late wife.”

“Fuck you!  I don’t give two shits about who the hell you wet your dick on in the past, but I’ve been loyal to you!  Loyal!  You can’t just replace me with some snot nosed asshole who couldn’t keep track of his own spawn - someone who has never been loyal to anyone in his life.  I won’t go to some other crew!  I choose you!  You can’t put me out.  I refuse to go!”

Tyler smirks. 

“What are you smirking about?”

Tyler chuckles.

“WHAT!?!” She screeches like the rabid fucking harpy that she is.

“I can’t believe after all this time, after all you say you think about my ability and skill and power… you THINK you have a fucking say in this.” 

“You have blinders on Ty-”

Tyler slammed his switchblade into the table and shot up out of chair.  “ENOUGH!” 

Marla winced.  “You’re here at my pleasure.  Not the other way around.  You don’t dictate to me whether you get a button and gun, or if you pay taxes in this crew and you SURE AS FUCK do not get to lecture me about how I run *MY* crew which *I* made the rules for.  *I* not *YOU* get to pick my Right-Hand Man, and the fact that you don’t seem to understand that, is EXACTLY why I am willing to put Billy in your place.  You might be an earner Marla, you might be loyal… but you’re insubordinate as fuck, and I WON’T have that in my operation.”

Marla rips his knife out of the table. 

Tyler narrowed his eyes – daring her… almost hoping she’d charge him.  “Get the fuck out of my sight before I decide to give you a grave instead of a crew.”

With tears in her eyes, Marla, left the room.  Tyler almost felt bad.  He did want her to be with him – despite it all.  And he knew that all Marla really wanted was for him to want to want her… but at some point, a woman pushes and nags so much, that a man just stops giving a fuck.

Tyler looked down at the table, the pictures of the girl and finally his eyes rest upon his son’s gun.  He looked at the clock.  With all Marla’s drama he’d lost track of time again.  Tyler picked up the gun and looked to Robert.  “Find Billy and give him his gun – just in case Marla is going to find him.”

Robert chuckled and took the gun.  “Sure thing, boss.”

Tyler knew he had to clear his head.  He decided to go outside for a breath of air and come back with a renewed focus.

---

Tears streamed down Marla’s face, the make-up in her eyes burned like hot needles.  She marched out of the room and down the hall at a quickening pace.  She’d show him.  She’d find a way to prove it to him, even if she had to go into the streets and randomly rant to any mobster who was willing to listen - she'd make them all see the truth.  Billy was going to be the death of his operation – the end of the beautiful dream that Tyler had once shared with her.  He was a genius but sometimes, sometimes when they weren't alone, it was like he was another man utterly – spineless and weak.  How could he not see this?!?  Why was it he didn’t realize that she alone, in all this world, had his best interest at heart!

She came around the corner and stopped suddenly as she saw unmistakable hair from behind. 

Don Capazzo!  Here!?! 

This was JUST what she needed!  Billy had allowed a rival family to infiltrate their Headquarters on the VERY EVE of their victory!  She didn’t want Tyler to lose the city of Chicago – but if she could save it and let him see that it was Billy’s incompetence that had caused his near loss of everything … he’d keep her with him and love her forever!

Marla hung back, spying around the corner, watching as Capazzo and … fucking-a that bitch Charlie … seemed to be scouting the room for something.  She wondered who or what, so she followed them for a time.  She got her answer when, without warning, Capazzo sliced the throat of one of her soldiers’ ear to ear and let him fall to the ground silently.

Is it possible these dumb shits chose the same day to hit Billy’s operation as we had chosen to hit them? 

It almost made her laugh.  These had to be the unluckiest fucks in the history of man.  So far, she’d only seen two of them.  If they thought to come in here and find half-a-dozen mobsters asleep late on a Sunday – they’d have been easy pickings – well, Don Capazzo and his Moll were about to have the shock of a lifetime.

Their operation, clearly an assassination attempt, relied upon silence.  She had the upper hand utterly here.  He was too far away from her to do anything, but pull a gun.  She smiled to herself as a plan formed – a BRILLIANT plan.  Marla whistled. 

Instantly the two turned to look at her.  She could see by their expressions that they were not nearly as shocked to see her as they should have been.  That could mean only one thing.

They know!

Marla’s plan instantly changed.  She HAD to warn Tyler.  As she took a breath to scream, Capazzo ran at her – arms pumping he crossed the distance between them faster than she thought possible.  He threw a hand over her mouth. She bit him and the two fell to the ground, wrestling for control over each other.  Capazzo desperate to silence her and she desperate to scream out a warning.

Marla reached into her pocket and pulled out the switch blade that she’d taken from Tyler moments ago. 

“Darling – we got company!”  Charlie whispered hoarsely. 

Capazzo fought harder.  Marla also increased her vigor – if men were nearby maybe they’d hear! 

“Trying … Bel… Bella!”  He grunted.

Marla opened the switch blade.  The Don heard it and the unmistakable sound of a round being chambered in Charlie’s gun above them.

“Cap…”  Charlie whispered, her voice sounding more worried than before, almost desperate.  Marla could hear the men approaching, talking to one another loudly.

Don Capazzo took her wrist and slammed it repeatedly on the concrete, trying to make her let go of the knife while his other hand still struggled to hold her mouth closed and silent.

“Hey there pretty lady!  Where’d you come from?”  Eric Mayhew asked.  His father use to run with Tyler as a boy.  Marla knew him for many years now and knew he was a good kid, but stupid as the day was long.

“You one of them Botticelli dames?”  The voice of Gassy Gus.  The dumb fat fucker who botched the Silver Sunday Heist.  More concerned with food and Molls than anything else. 

Marla tried to look towards Charlie, she could only see her on the periphery of her vision, but she could see the woman raising her gun, it didn’t matter now.  She waited for Capazzo to notice his Moll about to blow their mission and prepared to act.

“Put the gun down, Sweetie, before someone gets hurt.”  Eric stated, he sounded skeptical enough to realize this might be a bad sign… at least he wasn’t utterly dense.

“Yea doll, we’re on your side!”  Gus laughed.

As expected Capazzo looked up, “Bella –!”

But she knew, as well as Charlie, and Don Capazzo – if he was being honest with himself… this was all over for them.  There would be no more silent kills.  Their cover was blown.

Marla bit into Capazzo’s hand for all she was worth and tore at the flesh.  Capazzo stifled his scream as she threw him off her.  “BIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRDDDDDDDDDDSSSSSSSSSS!” She screamed the one word that they’d been referring to the hierarchy under Varys as… Birds.  Not a man in this building would be confused by the meaning. 

Marla ran as she heard the first shots of the war being fired behind her – Charlie shooting down Eric and Gus.  Damn shame, but they’d be remembered as heroes if she had anything to say about it.  She got her gun out and began to fire shots in the direction of Don Capazzo who was running for cover with his arm around his girl.

This was happening because Billy was an incompetent shit.  God, but she hated being right all the damn time!  If only Tyler would have listened.