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| Vendetta pt. 1 | Started by: FrankCastiglia on Jul 11, '22 04:52 |
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It had been 3 days aboard the steamship headed for the port of Genoa in Italy. While Frank and Vincenzo were ready to place their feet upon soil again, they knew even once they arrived their journey wasn’t complete. Rather by train, by sea or the off chance of securing an automobile to make their way back home. They knew that they still had over 1,000 kilometers worth of a journey before they reached their destination. The cargo ship Was slated to make landfall within 5 days, according to the ships first mate. Despite traveling on a ship that was typically for transporting goods and the crew of the ship itself, Vincenzo had paid well for he and his cousins passage. He wanted to ensure anonymity as his cousin and he left New York and entered into their home country of Italy. The fact the family in which Vincenzo was head ran the docks didn’t hurt either. Especially in the way the two cousins were treated upon their voyage. As men with ash covering their skin scattered about a boiler room and others worked the various areas of the ship to ensure its travel went as planned, Frank and Vincenzo spent their days playing cards, drinking wine and even being served by the first mate himself when the ships cook prepared meals. It was as if they were VIP’s on the worlds dirtiest ocean liner. Weary though they may have been, it gave them time to talk. To not just be Mafioso but to be cousins. To be themselves. They joked and laughed and reminisced about the journeys that brought each man independently across the Atlantic to America. Of course, the travel also gave them time to plan their vendetta. The actions that would take place to exact the revenge upon Don Salvatore for his brutal slaying of Frank’s Mama, Papa and sisters. “You will be the one” Frank spoke to his cousin Vincenzo in Italian. “It has to be you. You have to be the one to approach his house when we get a feel for when Don Salvatore will be most isolated. Most vulnerable.” Frank spoke about the plan the two has been discussing for days. About how they would stake out the Don’s home, watch as his men came and went, take time to know when they could approach, when he had the least amount of protection. Not just protection for himself but the least amount of bodies between them and their escape when it was finished. “You go up to the metal gate that stands at the entrance of the home and you tell them you are a representative of Don Accardo of Chicago, representing his business interests in New York. Most specifically the incoming and outgoing of goods from the harbors.” Frank spoke about Chicago Don, Tony Accardo. The man who came into power over the Chicago Outfit in 1931 upon Capone’s incarceration related to tax evasion. “You will tell him that Don Accardo sends his apologies for not traveling to see him in person but after the mess Capone made for the family in Chicago he had to be careful of what attention he brought to himself in how he conducted business. To stroke the bastards ego, say to him that surely a man of his stature and importance can understand such a thing? You will tell Don Salvatore that you have a hand written letter from Don Accardo himself and state that the Don wanted nothing lost in communicating from one man to another. We will write the letter. But the Don won’t read it.” Frank looked at Vincenzo as he spoke those words and Vincenzo looked puzzled and confused. “What do you mean he won’t read the letter? Why the in the hell do we take the time to write a letter that this pig headed fuck isn’t going to read?!” Vincenzo seemed irritated but Frank had expected this. He knew his cousin didn’t want to be the one who approached Don Salvatore in order to spring this trap. Furthermore he knew that his cousin must think he’s crazy for what he had just said. “You react and don’t listen cousin. I will explain.” Frank spoke calmly, despite the fact that for the day prior to their departure from New York on this journey he had been a combustible spitfire that was on the verge of explosion. He had time to collect himself, to focus on what needed done and to plan. He was reserved, broken inside but reserved. “Don Salvatore won’t read the letter, he can’t read. He wasn’t in a generation like us where Mama’s and Papa’s sent all of their kids to school. In fact his life is much different than most. There’s a reason no one calls him by his last name. I couldn’t even tell you his last name. But he won’t read it because of this but won’t admit that he can’t read so you must read it. He may simply just insist that you read it to him, almost as a power move on the surface or may have one of his guards read it to him. But if he asks, you really must stroke his ego. Don’t just start reading. Say something like, of course Don Salvatore, it would be my pleasure to read the letter for you. Anything to give this fuck a sense of respect and keep him from expecting anything off about what is going on. The letter will say essentially that Don Accardo is trying to do business with moving goods in and out of the New York harbor from Italy and back and that he believes they have a mutual enemy preventing this from happening.” Frank paused for a moment before lighting a cigarette and exhaling before continuing. “The mutual enemy will be us. The Castiglia family that runs the docks in the city. It’ll mention he had heard that Don Salvatore had some issues with the Castiglia’s at least one of them and would like to offer his partnership and a percent of the import and export of the goods going in and coming out to Don Salvatore if the powerful Don who had issues with this family would help remove the head to the snake that was his problem.” Frank stopped and took another drawl from his cigarette before exhaling again. “This is why I can’t approach, the Don would remember me. I worked with them doing small jobs here and there up until his son Angelo took on more of the street presence for the family. Don Salvatore has aged and though he’s still sharp in mind, at least he was when I left, he is becoming weak physically in his age. This proposition will peak his interest or cause him raised suspicion. Either way…” Vincenzo interrupted Frank before he could finish. “What the fuck do you mean, cause him raised suspicion?!” Vincenzo let his anxiety about the plan go silent long enough. “You know I do not do well under pressure. That is you cousin. I do not have that ability to think quickly on my feet. Do you remember when we were kids, I think I was 10 and you were 8. Our parents were spending the afternoon together drinking wine and socializing outside and it was a beautiful summers day. We had been playing outside near the fields for most of the day but thought how unfair it was that our parents did not let us have wine but a little at special dinners. Look how happy they were? Remember us saying that? So we came up with a plan to distract them by you showing them a tomato from the field and getting them talking while I stole some of the wine they had into cups for us. They found us an hour later laying in the fields eating from the vines and giggling. Your Papa was so angry at us and demanded we stand up which we struggled to do. He demanded to know if we were drunk and you said and this I will never forget, you said no Papa, we were just pretending to be like you and uncle Vito. And your Papa started laughing and thought you were telling the truth. That we were just being silly kids imitating our fathers. You were 8 years old! Most recently when we were planning to remove our former boss so that we could end the harbor wars and take over the family you remember when we were trying to pay those Police officers to get us uniforms from their station? We kept offering them different amounts of money and favors and doing everything we could and they finally asked, right on the spot, what we needed them for. Remember? I froze! I fucking froze stiff! You looked at them as calm as you could be and said that it was for my sons birthday party. That he loved police officers and wanted to become one someday but we couldn’t find police uniforms in the shops and wanted to surprise him at his party. You know how wide my mouth must have been when you said that? I don’t even have a kid! I could have never come up with that!” Vincenzo smiled, though he was still nervous as he paused for a moment. “What I’m trying to say Frank is that if he starts asking questions. I’m not sure that I can pull it off like you can. You’re the thinker, always have been. Quick witted even. I’m just the type of guy who commands respect, makes people like him and fear him. You know those are qualities leaders need. But you. You got brains I don’t have. But you need a guy like me to get guys to do what you need them to do, right?” Vincenzo smiled at his cousin as a bit of his arrogance shined through. “No, you’re right on that Vincenzo. You have to have that quality to lead. For sure.” Frank spoke softly. Almost annoyed in sounding as he responded. “But you will do fine. And by the time it gets too far that his suspicions could arise, I’ll already be close enough that it won’t matter. Just trust me.” Frank finished his cigarette and laid back on his hammock. “I will trust you cousin. Of course. After all, we have already taken down one Don back in New York, two if you count removing ours as part of winning the war and taking control of the family and the docks. I mean we outsmarted two men who could at least probably both read! If things begin to get out of control I’ll just stand up and start shooting and hope you’re already in place to help us shoot our way out!” Vincenzo laughed mockingly toward Don Salvatore and his inability to read. “Just because Don Salvatore lacks the type of intelligence you get in a school doesn’t mean he’s ignorant.” Frank spoke as he opened one eye and looked over toward Vincenzo as he spoke. “Now, get some rest. Night is coming and the wine has made me tired. We will talk more about it tomorrow over cards. Maybe if I keep you talking you won’t be able to cheat as bad as you did today.” Frank smiled slightly as he finished speaking. “Ah, come on cousin! At least tell me before we go to bed why Don’t Salvatore doesn’t go by a last name. Don’t think I forgot that. I’ve got to know! I’ve always been curious. If you know, you have to tell me!” Vincenzo playfully prodded. “Plenty of time for that tomorrow cousin, go to bed you’re drunk on the wine and I am not drunk enough to keep up with you tonight!” Frank joked with his cousin though he was tired from the wine and the boredom that would set in during the long days of their journey being confined to one small storage room all day. “Fine but I’m not drunk! And first thing tomorrow you’re telling me the story or I’m eating your breakfast portion!” Vincenzo joked as he laid down in his hammock after blowing out the candle that dimly lit the room. “Goodnight Vincenzo.” Frank said as he tried to get comfortable. “Goodnight cousin Frances.” Vincenzo snickered as he knew his cousin hated going by his given name. Frank laid there combing over everything they’d discussed for the events that would take place. He played them out in his mind over and over again. His cousin had always had an issue staying serious but there was nothing more in the world Frank wanted at this point than revenge. The time for kid games was over. He loved his cousin and was thankful for the opportunities afforded to him because of his cousin. But he couldn’t afford to treat this as a laughing matter. This was pride, this was a bandage for the pain, this was vendetta. Frank wondered if his cousin could pull this off as he stared off in the darkness and slowly fell asleep. |
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