Grandfather Dippolito

Grandpa Dippolito wiped his Erfurt Kar 98A Bolt Action Sniper Rifle. They were in Tony's living room. Tony was admiring his Smith and Wesson Double Action Revolver.

"Finally continuing our family tradition, huh, kid," he said.

He looked at Tony with a frown.

"You shouldn't emulate your father."

He shook his head. "In Sicily..."

He rambled on about family history. To put it simply, Sicily was an island conquered by many foreign invaders. Mafioso rose because they didn't trust the central government. They banded together to protect themselves and carry out their own justice. Afterwards, these "mafie", or private armies" took advantage of the conditions in Siciliy to extort money from landowners.

"Your father is a damn degenerate," Grandpa Dippolito said. "He just wanted to be rich."

Tony also didn't like his father. In fact, Tony wasn't the legitimate son. They were the second family. But his grandpa still liked him, and that made Tony like him too. So, when he asked for help in assassinating the Mayor who purged drug addicts, he immediately went to his grandpa.

"Good thing you were just a lazy degenerate," Grandpa Dippolito said backhandedly.

"In my days...."

Tony kept silent. In his Grandpa's days, chaos and crime reigned across Sicily. Sure, the mafioso, as natives, protected themselves. However, they also took advantage of others. They made power grabs. Grandpa was a bit more noble and drew a line somewhere, but the mafioso just became the new conquerors, in Tony's opinion.

Tony wiped his own revolver. They would practice shooting first. Grandpa was rusty from retirement. Tony was rusty from laziness.

Ms. Stacy St. Clair

Grandpa Dippolito and Tony were practicing their shots in a shooting range. It was a basic one, but they had to start with the basics.

Bang. Snap. Grandpa was using his sniper while Tony tried his revolver. After a few weeks, they were shooting their targets, both stationary and moving, consistently.

"This isn't gonna be enough," Grandpa told Tony as they took a break. "We need more men."

"Even if we do succeed, the mayor and his cronies are powerful and influential. They will chase after us. If we fail to assassinate him, we need more personnel as plan B."

Tony nodded.

"She's coming."

Grandpa tilted his head. "Who?"

"Stacy," Tony said.

"Who?"

"Stacy St. Clair."

There was silence. Grandpa Dippolito looked at Tony with fascination.

"You bastard. How the in the hell do you know that woman? She's a crime lady of New York."

Tony shrugged. Tony was fond of his grandpa but he tended to look down on people who didn't have powerful personalities.

"I'm hot and kind. I have a similar income, education, and job too because of our family. "

"That makes sense. The family does carry you."

Grandpa totally ignored the first part of Tony's statement.

"Where is she?"

"Oh, she won't be coming today. Just her personnel. She's a busy woman."

In a few hours, a fleet of Chrysler B-70's approached the shooting range. They were ready. Once they killed the Mayor, there would be chaos. That was when Stacy herself would come.