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The Fall of Vito Vincenzo Started by: SonnyFranzese on Oct 24, '23 15:15

Lucana watched and waited. There were too many of Vito's men stationed around the compound to attempt an escape. He smiled to himself as he saw Vito gathering his men, he'd clearly taken Lucana's bait, the mention of the restaurant where Godfather Gambino ate regularly was a stroke of genius. With any luck Vito would kill Godfather Gambino on this night, or get killed in the attempt, it mattered little to Lucana, he wanted them both dead anyway. 


Sensing his opportunity he crept out into the warehouse and dispatched the nearest guard using the lengths of rope that had once bound his hands. With a final twist he felt the man's neck pop and dropped him to the ground. Grabbing the fallen thompson sub machine he stole into the night, careful to skirt the front of the building in fear of the guards who might be hiding upstairs. Lucana knew the location of a nearby diner, if he could reach it he'd be able to phone for help.


Stalking around the building Lucana saw his chance and took off at a run. Throwing caution to the wind he leapt at the nearby fence scrambling over the top he hit the ground heavily. Jumping to his feet again he ran in the direction he hoped the diner would be.




Oscar was just finishing doing the rounds, checking in on the guards they had posted about the warehouse. He and Vito both agreed they needed to be prepared should another attack occur while Vito was out hunting Godfather Gambino. As he climbed down the stairs he noticed something amiss. A pair of legs were sticking out from behind a nearby car. Swearing to himself he ran and checked the downed guard. The man was dead, his distended tongue and rope which was still bound round his neck told him all he needed to know.


Rushing back upstairs Oscar checked if the guards he'd posted around the warehouse had seen anything amiss. One of the men, a grizzled old veteran stated he'd heard a disturbance on the western perimeter. Oscar trusting the man's earns gathered a squad and set out into the cold winter night to pursuit Lucana. 

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Vito led a charge of men armed with whatever improvised weapons they had to hand out into the cell block. With Stanley at his back he felt like Spartacus, leading his men against the mighty Roman empire. Running towards the nearest jail guard, who was busy kicking two shades of shit out of a defenseless prisoner, Vito drove his shiv into the guards neck. Arterial blood spat out over the cells wall as the guard fell to floor gurgling out his last breath. Vito left Stanley to open the nearby cells, leading his section of escaped prisoners to the nearest group of guards who mercilessly beat a man to within inches of his life. 


Within minutes Vito and Stanley led a horde of bloodthirsty prisoners from all sections of the prison. African American, Irish and Italian prisoners joining in the fight. The prisons ecosystem was built on a fragile set of rules, and when push came to shove, it was the prisoners vs the prison guards. The heavy handed prison warden and his thuggish guards had caused this situation, and Vito was more than happy to respond. The guards, noticing the sudden horde of barbarian prisoners storming them, rushed out of the prison, those unfortunate to be caught when the doors locked shut were cut down and murdered. 


Walking towards Lenny's cell Vito was attacked from behind by a group of his men. The first stab glanced off his arm as Stanley shouted out a warning. The group which followed Vito split into two as their fragile alliance shambled. The Italian and Irish elements of the group rushed to help Vito while the African Americans joined Lenny and his men in attacking Vito. The two groups threw themselves into each other as the adrenaline of the days events took hold. 


Vito found himself attacked by three men, while the biggest of them, a brute known to be Lenny's second in command stabbed and slashed at Vito with a sharpened piece of metal, the other two circled like sharks awaiting their opportunity to strike. Their attention was drawn to Stanley as he stabbed the man to the right in the stomach repeatedly, Vito seeing his attack leapt into action grabbing Lenny's second in command by the arm and snapping it on his knee forcing the man to drop his weapon. Vito buried his shiv into the man's neck and dropped him heavily to the floor. 


Vito and Stanley fought back to back against a swarm of Lenny's men. They both bled from multiple wounds all over their bodies, their limbs felt heavy as fatigue ate away at their reserves, but neither would back down. They'd long ago promised to die on their feet, and would not let the other man down. Stanley took a savage blow to his chest as a brute pushed past his guard and barreled him to the floor. Vito went into a blind rage as he watched Stanley go down as men rushed to stab his fallen friend. 




Vito arrived back at his headquarters having barely escaped New York City outside of a prison cell. The NYPD had been out in force having heard of the attack on Godfather Gambino. Even the NYPD knew the seriousness of the attack, and they couldn't allow people to make attempts on the life of the man who paid them.


Back at the headquarters Vito received a brisk report from a nearby man, stating that Lucana had escaped. Vito swore aloud, he knew he should have killed that slimy bastard. He watched as one of his men were carried out with a sheet covering their bodies, that man's life was on Vito's hands. 


Stirred into action Vito rushed outside with a small group of the men who had accompanied him on the nights escapades. He left the rest to guard the building while a small group began to stow away their kit. If Lucana escaped they would need to relocate ASAP. Rushing into the cold winters night Vito and his warriors rushed after Oscar, knowing that speed was their greatest ally. 

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Oscar and his squad followed a set of tracks which led away from the abandoned warehouse. One of his men was an expert tracker so he let the man lead. The group stopped at a fence line picking up a torn piece of clothing from where Lucana had got caught on the tall fence. Bracing their backs against the fence they helped each other climb the obstacle. Oscar landed heavily on the other side, using his foot he etched an arrow into the snow, leaving a direction for Vito who he knew would be hot on their heels. 




Lucana swore to himself noticing the piece of his shirt that had been torn off as he clambered over the high fence which bordered the abandoned warehouse. He set off at a brisk pace, sprinting across to the lot opposite lot. He checked the building and found it empty too, New Jersey really was turning to shit. Setting off at a sprint again he trudged through the heavy snow towards the vague direction of the diner. If he could get into the car park he might be able to hotwire a car and get out before any pursuit caught up with him. 




Godfather Gambino fell heavily onto his expensive leather chair. With shaky hands he tried to pour himself a glass of whisky to calm his nerves, he'd kept a steady face in front of his men, but now in private he began to break down. He'd survived many attempts on his life over the years, but never one that had come so close. The upper structure of his family had been caught in the blast, he'd lost fundamental members of his crew, members who were best placed to hold onto his fragile grip of power. 


A knock at his door disturbed him from his dark thoughts. Consigliere Torrino entered the room and asked after Godfather Gambino. The ageing Godfather began to muse how word had spread so quickly, but in reality he was covered from head to toe in dust from the building blast, and his head was still heavily bandaged from his visit to the crews doctor. As instructed Consigliere Torrino began to give his status reports, a series of well planned hits had severely damaged the gangs who'd been attacking Godfather Gambino's crew fronts. Godfather Gambino, clearly still in shock just nodded dumbly at the news, doing his best to keep up the thin veneer of his control.


Consigliere Torrino paused before giving his last bit of news. Godfather Gambino's dead eyes stared at him briefly before asking him to spit it out. The next bit of news was hard to deliver, even for a man who'd spent his life delivering news, both good and bad to the leadership of mafia families.


"It's your family Godfather," Consigliere Torrino began.


"What about that ungrateful bitch, I trust you've found my kids and they're being brought back here," Godfather Gambino spat. 


"That wasn't your orders, you said they should be dealt with if they would not come willingly," Consigliere returned, daring to hold Godfather Gambino's burning gaze.


"Spit it out man, I'm growing tired of your continued presence," Godfather Gambino returned fighting the urge to reach for his gun and put a bullet in the man's chest. 


"They're all dead, the men you sent to do that job were heavy handed, I tried my hardest to steady their hands but they're maniacs," Consigliere Torrino stated flatly his eyes to the wall behind Godfather Gambino's head.


Godfather Gambino broke in that moment. Had he been so caught up in his quest for vengeance that he'd actually ordered the death of his own family? He had achieved all he'd set out to in his life. Climbing to the lofty position of Godfather, but now he was left without a legacy. He had condemned his own family to death. He began to laugh like a maniac as the last semblance of his sanity fled. 

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Consigliere Torrino backed out of the room slowly. At any moment he felt Godfather Gambino might reach into his desks top drawer and shoot him between the eyes. The man was a maniac, he was not a man to follow. The helping hand he had offered Godfather Gambino's enemies felt fully justified now. Turning to the head of Godfather Gambino's bodyguard he shook his head, they'd discussed the terrible news Torrino was forced to deliver, neither trusting the giver of this news escaping Godfather Gambino's office. The leader of Gambino's body guard suggested he might want to get out of the building, before Godfather Gambino's rage caught up with him. 


Torrino rushed out the front door of Godfather Gambino's mansion and climbed into his car. He turned over the engine expecting a bomb to be planted to the fuel tank. As the engine turned over his nerves settled, driving to the front gate he waited for the guards to open them, half expecting them to walk out with thompson sub machine guns spitting hot lead into his car. As the gate was thrown open Torrino drove his car out of the mansions compound and headed out into the city. 


Pulling his car into a nearby diners parking lot he climbed out and walked to the payphone. Calling ahead to Luvinci's number he explained that the attack had failed and Godfather Gambino survived. The phone went silent as Luvinci digested the news. Torrino pushed him for a response. Luvinci told Torrino they'd no choice, it was open war. Torrino hoped Luvinci knew where he stood. Torrino stated that he would be at their headquarters as soon as possible and put down the phone. 




Luvinci swallowed the news of Godfather Gambino's survival with difficulty. He knew he was fucked. This whole thing had been a desperate gamble, but without Lucana at the helm he knew he had to act quick. Their betrayal felt more reasoned with Lucana in control, his silver tongue served perfectly in riling up the men into action. Luvinci was many things, but a snake was not one, even with all that had transpired he still felt guilt towards his actions. Killing a godfather during a family meeting was an action below him and he knew his chances of surviving this were slim. 


Locking the door Luvinci sat down behind the desk and opened the drawer retrieving his revolver. Checking the gun was loaded he pulled back the hammer and stuck the gun to his temple. Dark thoughts flooded his mind, if he ended it now maybe Godfather Gambino would let his family live. The phone to his front rang, he contemplated letting it ring out and putting a bullet in his own skull, but a part of him demanded he answer. 


"Luvinci I need a pick up quick, that bastard Vito Vincenzo and his men are onto me," Lucana shouted over the phone.


"Where are you?" Luvinci demanded concerned for his friends life. 


"Diner just off the turnpike," Lucana wheezed trying to catch his breath.


"Sit tight we'll be there shortly," Luvinci stated grabbing his coat from a nearby hanger and rousing his men to get the cars ready. 




Vito and his men caught up with Oscar's squad as they searched some nearby tracks heading off in the direction of the highway. The men guessed he would be heading for a nearby diner and took off after him. Vito jogged along next to Oscar discussing their plan. He argued that Oscar and his group should split in half and approach the diner from the flanks in case Lucana saw them coming and decided to make his escape. Agreeing Oscar gave out his orders and disappeared into the cold winter night. 


Vito approached the diner from the front keeping an eye on the car park in case of any attempts at escape. He kept his hand near the revolver tucked into his shoulder holster, prepared to open fire should he see any movement. The two ex-soldiers to his side knew their business and began fanning out to cover more ground. Vito had left one of his squad to the rear, the best spotter of the group he could keep an eye out for any interruptions and cover them if required. 


Not wanting to cause any concern to the people sat sipping a late night coffee in the diner, Vito walked casually towards his objective. The diner was a single floor building, with a red sloping roof and a small set of steps leading to the neon lit front door. Signs on the door announced that it was open all night, welcoming people to stop off for a cup of joe. The building mainly serving the truckers who frequented the highways leading out of New York city. 


Stopping as he spotted Lucana inside Vito instructed his men to hide out of view. Turning to one of his men he told him to go and find Oscar's squad, he wanted them posted up behind. Vito turned to the diner as Lucana picked up the phone and had a short conversation. Swearing to himself he knew they were fucked, if they rushed in and got any innocent bystanders killed he wouldn't forgive himself. Thinking on his feet he instructed his squad to remain hidden and approached the front of the diner. 

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Lucana sipped at the coffee to his front, the bitter liquid calmed his nerves if only briefly. He felt exposed with his back to the diners glass front, but hoped Vito and his men wouldn't be reckless enough to attempt to shoot him from afar. There were too many civilians at risk for them to risk that shot, or so he hoped. 


His attention was drawn to the diners only entrance as the welcome bell rang. Lucana's eyes focused on the open door and the sinister smile in the visitors face. It was Vito fucking Vincenzo staring straight at him. He watched as Vito approached the waitress and asked for a cup of coffee. The bastard sat opposite him on the other end of the long brightly colored bar opposite the diners entrance. His eyes never left Lucana's, holding his in a deathly stare.


Lucana imagined himself sat at a smoky bar, two gun slingers preparing for a duel at dawn. He knew his only hope lay in waiting, the sooner Luvinci and his men arrived the sooner he'd be away from this place. Lucana swore to himself as Vito finished his coffee and climbed out of his seat walking towards his position with menace in his eyes. Sensing an opportunity Lucana grabbed a nearby kitchen knife and held it to the waitresses throat.


"Taking another step and I'll cut the bitch," Lucana shouted at Vito bringing the knife closer to the terrified waitresses throat. 


Vito held his hands up, "Let her go, no one needs to get hurt."


"Yeah fuck you, another inch and the bitch gets opened ear to ear," Lucana shouted pushing the knife to the waitresses neck drawing a drop of blood.




Vito held up his hands careful not to make any jerky movements to provoke Lucana. Well fuck he was making a mess of this, Vito couldn't handle any innocents being injured due to his actions so did his best to obey all of Lucana's commands. The man was jittery though, clearly biding for time. To punctuate Vito's thoughts a number of black Cadillac's piled into the car, armed mobsters pouring out pointing their guns at the diner. Well fuck, it was going from bad to worse. 


"Looks like my ride has turned up, back away from the door slowly you slippery bastard," Lucana shouted keeping the knife close to the waitresses throat. 


Unable to act Vito backed away, keeping his eyes locked on Lucana. If he sensed an opportunity he would take it, but not if it risked the lives of innocent bystanders. There was enough blood on Vito's hand to last a life time, he didn't need more innocents caught up in this mess. As Lucana approached the door he threw the waitress in Vito's direction, Vito rushed forward and stopped her from falling. He watched Lucana storm outside hugging a nearby well dressed mobster. Vito could not hear the words they exchanged but he could tell by the other man's face that it did not bode well for him.


The mobsters turned in unison towards the diner, pulling out thompson sub machine guns and shotguns. Vito shouted at the people sat in the diner to take cover as the mobsters opened up with their weapons. Glass and debris burst around the diner as the first shots found their mark. Vito dove to the floor as all hell broke outside. 




Lucana approached Luvinci and thanked the man from the bottom to his heart, turning to the waiting mobsters he gave the order to kill Vito fucking Vincenzo. Without so much as a thought for those inside they reached for their weapons and let rip, the still night erupted to the sounds of weapon fire. Lucana climbed into the back of a nearby car with Luvinci taking the seat next to him. He was left surprise as he detected gunfire coming from all around them, his window shattered as bullets found their mark. Throwing himself and Luvinci to the floor he shouted at the driver to get the fuck out of there.

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Oscar watched as Lucana's mobsters piled into the carpark. He knew Lucana would not let Vito get out of that diner alive, turning to his men he ordered them to prepare to attack. He didn't want any of his men's bullets hitting innocent bystanders, so instructed them to attack from the flanks. As the first of the mobsters bullets hit the diners front Oscar and his men sprung their ambush. Catching the unaware mobsters in a brutal crossfire they watched with satisfaction as they were cut to ribbons. 


Focusing his fire on the vehicle he'd watched Lucana climb into Oscar swore to himself as the car reversed out the car park and sped away into the night. Leaving his cover Oscar kept up a steady stream of fire aimed at the vehicle hoping to clip the driver and catch up with Lucana before he could escape. 




Vito climbed to his feet as the gunfire from outside came to a stop. Checking around him he noticed the fallen corpses of the poor unlucky bastards to be sat in the diner on that evening. He had shielded the waitress with his body, she was crumpled on the floor sobbing uncontrollably. Vito tried to calm her but she began to wail, her body going into shock from the ordeal as her nerves finally cracked. Vito wiped off the glass which covered his back and hair before rushing out of the diner.


Outside he gathered his men and told them to get back to the abandoned warehouse. They had to get the fuck out of here right now before the law caught up with them. 




Vito charged at the men stabbing and kicking Stanley as he lay on the floor. Barreling into the nearest man he knocked him to the floor before turning to the man stood to his left and stabbing him repeatedly with his shiv. The others turned slowly towards their attacker too preoccupied with butchering Stanley to realize their peril. Vito moved like a whirlwind, lashing out with his shiv using its sharp edge to gouge deep cuts into their faces lost in a dark madness. With the fury of a barbarian berserker he laid into the men desperate to create a space around poor Stanley.


The prisoners backed away from Vito left weary after succumbing to numerous wounds in a matter of seconds. Vito looked down at Stanley and saw that he was dead. He'd been stabbed brutally from head to toe, his broken body a pin cushion of bleeding wounds. Vito roared as realization set in, grabbing a fallen shiv he launched himself at the prisoners, stabbing the nearest one in the neck, grabbing his shiv and moving onto the next.


Panting heavily Vito stood atop a pile of broken corpses, drawing in deep breaths trying to still his beating heart. He looked about himself daring any others to try but noticed for the first time that none were left standing, or willing to fight. Vito turned to Lenny's cell, the gangs leader put up his hands trying to reason with Vito, but Vito could hear no reason. He was lost to a burning rage which threatened to consume him. He walked menacingly into Lenny's cell, the prison echoing to the man's scream as he butchered him.




Vito and Oscar's squad arrived back at the abandoned warehouse to find the trucks being packed with all their belongings. The plans Vito and Oscar had put in place for such an event were already in motion. All their arms, equipment and goods were packed into waiting trucks as the men went about their business. Vito watched with satisfaction as one of their demolition experts rigged the building to blow. They could leave no traces of their presence, the less the police knew of their operations the better. 


Vito rushed into his room and gathered his few meager belongings. He stopped suddenly as he remembered the picture of his family he kept tucked into his top drawer. Grabbing the photo he stashed it in his bag and rushed back outside. Vito instructed the men to split up, those driving the trucks were to head for the hills, out into New York state to hide out. Vito left Oscar in charge of the operations.


Vito and the others climbed into waiting cars they were to strike out ahead of the trucks, hopefully drawing anyone still watching the building away while also beginning the search for a new place to set up shop. Vito waited for the final demolition expert to clamber into the back before nodding to the drivers of the trucks. The cars sped out onto the road as the trucks idled behind a nearby building.


As Vito and his men turned away from the New Jersey turnpike they heard an almighty explosion from behind. The warehouse obliterated as the heavy charges brought the building down. With any luck the cops would think it was just another mafia hit in between warring crews. Vito kept an eye on the rear view mirror checking for any vehicles in pursuit as they sped off down the dark road towards New York state. 




Oscar ordered the trucks to take off. They were to follow Vito from a short distance behind, hoping that Vito and the speeding vehicles would draw any attention from the police away from them. Oscar had spent time considering the next place for their operations, he'd scouted out an abandoned farm where they could park their trucks without fear of discovery. He planned to head their first before setting off to find a new place for them to continue their quest against the New York mafia, who had taken so much from them and their families. 

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Lucana sat back in the black Cadillac's comfortable chairs and smiled to himself, well fuck that had been a close call. He listened as Luvinci updated him on all that had transpired since his doomed attack and subsequent confinement. He laughed aloud as Luvinci told him of their failed attempt on Godfather Gambino's life. He'd have to keep an eye on his own friend, he hadn't realized how ambitious he'd become. The car sped  down the turnpike back into New York city towards their base of operations.


Climbing out of the back of car Lucana winced, he'd taken a beating from Vito and his goons the adrenaline, through his whole ordeal he had forgot his aching bones, the adrenaline of his escape blocking out the worst of the pain. Lucana needed a good warm bath and the gentle hands of a lady to ease his pains. His thoughts were disturbed as he entered the conspirators base of operations. Godfather Gambino's Consigliere came rushing over and gave him an update on Godfather Gambino's situation. While Lucana was a cold blooded killer who wouldn't think twice about shooting a close friend in the back of the head, he would never order the murder of his own family. Godfather Gambino had lost his mind.


The rest of the men who moped around his base of operations came and paid their respect. They'd felt lost ever since hearing of his death, but with Lucana back at the helm they felt there was some hope of victory against Godfather Gambino. Lucana joined his men in a toast to his health and the fall of that bastard Godfather Gambino. 




Vito and his men gathered around a camp fire in an abandoned farm in New York state. The farm buildings too dilapidated to run the risk of camping inside. Oscar passed Vito a bottle of whisky, which he gladly took a swig from to try and fend off the worst of the winter cold. Oscar had stashed the trucks behind a nearby wood, outside of view from the road. Vito and his men would have to rough it for the night, either sleeping in their cars or in front of the roaring fire at the middle of their makeshift camp.


A pair of scouts were still in the field, looking for an ideal spot where they could lay low. Even Vito, ever the hot-head, had to agree that the best chance of continuing their operations lay in staying out of the city limits. Lucana was well connected and neither man doubted his ability to get the police on his side. 


Vito passed the bottle of whisky back to Oscar and decided to hit the hay. It had been a long day and he would need his strength for the coming days. 




Vito left Lenny's cell to the cheer of the surrounding prisoners. With Lenny dead he was now in control. He'd never imagined himself running the yard, but knew it was his only chance of survival. As Vito considered his options the prison guards rushed into the cell block armed to the teeth. They fired their guns into the air shouting at the prisoners to get on the ground. Vito found himself being bundled up by the heavy handed guards and dragged out of the cell block. He was overdue a visit with the warden.





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Vito awoke in a freezing cold car with his muscles cramping up. Climbing out of the car with a groan he stretched out his aching bones and lit himself a smoke. Walking to the nearby fire he took an offered cup of coffee and sipped at the warm liquid glad for its warming effects. The rest of their camp were waking up, each man doing his best to warm themselves on the cold winters morning. 


Walking towards Oscar as he listed the surrounding sites identified as potential bases Vito agreed that it would be best to stay out of the city going forward. He knew Lucana would be out for blood and couldn't risk their base being compromised again. The man wouldn't be so quick to rush into an ambush this time, and Vito didn't want more of his men's deaths on his hands. Oscar suggested an old logging camp, further into New York state and Vito couldn't help but agree. The run down buildings would need some work but it proved to be the best of a bad bunch.


Calling the men together Vito told them to pack up. They were heading to a new base of operations to lay low. Vito left Oscar to organize the operation while he called Albert and Alfonse over. He wanted the men back in New York to keep up their surveillance of Godfather Gambino. While Vito's warriors would need to avoid open warfare with the crews of New York, he still wanted tabs on his main target. Should an opportunity present itself, he wanted to move on Godfather Gambino and take him off the board. 




Lucana awoke in a local brothel having sated his thirst the night before. He'd partied long into the night drinking away his worries before falling into a nearby brothel and ending his night on a high. Climbing out of bed he gathered his clothes from the floor and walked out into a cold New York morning. Firing up his car parked up outside the brothel he drove back to his base of operations. As he waited at a set of traffic lights his car was struck from the side. The force of the impact threw him out of his seat and he awoke crumpled over the passenger seat. His mind was foggy from the impact, but he quickly realized his peril. Jumping out of the car he hit the floor as fully automatic gunfire tore into the vehicle. 


Swearing to himself he jumped up from his position and rushed to the nearest piece of cover. A second squad sent bullets wildly into his position, one glanced off his shoulder knocking him to the ground. Reaching for his pistol he returned fire to the best of his ability, he knew he was fucked. Caught out in the streets with his pants down. While one squad kept his head pinned behind a dumpster he knew the second team would be moving up to finish the hit. 




Godfather Gambino smiled from behind his desk. Lucana had got careless and he knew the man was fucked. A squad of cold killers were hot on his heels, and even that worm wouldn't be able to escape this predicament. The man should have known he had contacts in all the brothels across the city. All it took was one phone call from a working girl and now he was fucked. 




Luvinci rushed out of their base of operations following a report that Lucana was under attack. He'd had one of their bodyguards trail Lucana to ensure his safety. The man had called back to base as soon as he saw the attack begin. Luvinci didn't have long, jumping into a waiting car they sped the short distance to the nearby brothel, hoping his friend wasn't dead. He swore to himself as they rounded the corner and found two groups of hitmen converging on Lucana's position. Piling out of the car they emptied clips of automatic weapons into the nearest group hoping it would be sufficient enough of a distraction to save his friends life. 

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Lucana laughed aloud as he watched one group of hitmen get tore to shreds by the arrival of his mobsters led by his friend Luvinci. Gunfire continued to pepper the dumpster but lessened as the second group of hitmen responded to the new threat. Lucana risked his neck and emptied his clip at the nearest mobster, forcing him into cover. Reloading his Colt 1911 he cried out as a bullet smashed through the dumpster and hit his left arm. He was bleeding heavily from his two gunshot wounds but continued to take pot shots at the final group of hitmen. 




Luvinci and his squad of trained killers ambushed the hit squads sent by Godfather Gambino. The second group held up a better fight but were in a bad position, expecting an easy job they hadn't posted any look outs, which proved to be a fatal mistake. Luvinci shook his head as he checked each of the fallen mobsters. He recognized these men, former comrades he'd served alongside. This war was turning into a real shit show. If the tables were turned he would rather not kill men he knew he could trust. 


Confident that Godfather Gambino's hit squads had been dealt with, Luvinci rushed over to the the dumpster the mobsters had focused their fire upon. He swore as he found Lucana covered in blood behind, the man had taken multiple bullet wounds and needed immediate medical care. Calling over two of his men Luvinci shouted at them to help get Lucana into the nearby car. They needed to get to a doctor and quick. Applying pressure to the wounds in the back of the car he urged the driver to a doctor the crew used for these occasions. 


Pulling into the doctors private residence in Brooklyn the driver pulled over his garden and drove over the man's flower bed. Lucana was in a critical state and he needed medical attention now. Luvinci ran to the doctors door and knocked heavily shouting to bet let in. The ageing doctor answered in a state of shock, his relaxing morning disturbed by the arrival of a patient. The man long on the pay roll of the mob quickly fell into position and ordered him brought inside. 


Luvinci watched in horror as the doctor went to work removing dislodged bullets and stitching wounds up. He turned to Luvinci and told him to go home, he was doing no help lingering at the doctors side. Luvinci thanked the doctor and climbed back into the waiting car. He told the driver to head back to their base of operations, his heart was full of vengeance as his mind busied itself formulating a plan.




Godfather Gambino waited anxiously in his luxurious Long Island mansion. He never left the compound anymore, the attempts on his life shaking him to his core. His bodyguard detail had tripled in recent weeks, the compound watched from all sides for any further attempts. His patience was thinning as he waited to hear back from the hit squad he'd sent to assassinate Lucana. He'd expected to be sat back toasting the man's death over a glass of expensive wine, finally able to look to the future, instead he wallowed in misery, his dark thoughts his only companion.


His attention was drawn to a nearby TV which showed a grainy image of his front gates. A car was parked outside, its driver rushing out into the dark night. He watched as one of his bodyguards drew back the gate and walked outside with his weapon held up. The guard stopped as he spotted something in the car, calling to the other guards they joined him at the grisly spectacle. Godfather Gambino swore as he saw them pulling bodies out vehicle, he could only guess who's bodies these were. He entered a dark rage shouting at the head of his bodyguard to get after the bastard who'd been driving the car, the man tried to argue but was quickly put back as his place as Godfather Gambino threatened to shoot him in the back of the head. 




The head of Godfather Gambino's bodyguard, a scarred veteran of countless mob wars known as Frank Risoletti, rushed to follow the man's orders. When he was first head hunted to lead Godfather Gambino's bodyguard detailed he'd expected a comfortable position to go with the hefty wage increase. Instead he'd been left to guard a paranoid bastard who'd quickly lost whatever of his mind remained. Rushing outside he knew this was a stupid idea, this was a classic distraction, if Godfather Gambino had any sense he'd have called the men back, not rushed out into the night in pursuit. 


He approached the front gate cautiously, knowing this to be a trap. His bodyguards gathered about the car, pulling the dead bodies out. He shouted at them to get away from the car but it was too late. The car exploded knocking him off his feet. 


Frank awoke dazed and confused, he could barely piece together what was happening but quickly realized they were under attack. Armed mobsters rushed the front gate taking advantage of the chaos caused by the explosion. Climbing back to this feet he opened fire with the shotgun he found on the floor. Felling the nearest gangsters he rushed back to the mansion chased by poorly aimed bullets. Back on the mansion's porch the bodyguards were busy setting up firing positions to protect the mansion. Frank's attention was drawn to the heavy metal fencing to either side of the mansion as they were suddenly caved in. Pick up trucks being used as battering rams brought sections of the fencing down on either side, and more enemy rushed into the compound. Frank instantly recognized them as the ethnic groups who'd been attacking Godfather Gambino's crew fronts for what felt like months. 


Climbing the stairs two at a time Frank turned and put shell after shell into the approaching horde. He quickly assessed their situation, noticing the forces shooting at them from the trees to their flank. He ordered the bodyguards back into the mansion where they could set up crossfire in the main hall and defend from atop the stairs. His men rushed to follow his orders, trusting in his fighting knowledge having spent most of his life helping the mafia fight its many wars. 


Frank rushed up the stairs to check on Godfather Gambino. He told the man to stay away from the windows all was under control. The ageing Godfather realizing his peril did not argue. Instead he armed himself with a nearby shotgun and ducked below the heavy oak table in his office. Satisfied that the godfather had suitable protection Frank rushed outside and joined the rest of the bodyguards. Taking an offered Thompson sub machine he kept the shotgun nearby. The first of the attackers rushed into the hall and were cut down. Frank nodded at his men at laughed at their attempt, reminding his men that this mob of bastards would die before they touched the steps. 

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Vito sat back in the stolen mobster's Cadillac as it bumped up and down while driving down a long dirt track in New York state. Vito swore aloud as his head banged off the roof in the back of the car. As they rounded the next corner he was afforded his view of the abandoned logging mill. The three buildings were in a sorry state, long fallen into disrepair, but would fit their needs perfectly. Oscar had arrived ahead of Vito and his group, and was already hard at work preparing the site. He'd ordered the strongest of their men to begin felling more of the nearby trees, wanting to patch up the old buildings before they risked moving any men inside. 


Feeling he needed the exercise, Vito grabbed an axe and saw joining the party of men felling the nearby trees. Oscar wanted to cut back the forest a little to afford them a better view of the surrounding area. The additional planks would be processed in the nearby plant, and the processed wood utilized about their new camp. Already some of their ex-engineer combat battalion members were hard at work getting the saw mill operation again. Fixing any damaged wires and rigging up the old generator to provide power. 


Vito knew the real reason Oscar was pushing them so hard. They had lost so much and their mission was in jeopardy. They'd both agreed the ex-soldiers needed something to keep them focused while they worked out their next moves. They'd spent many months living in the abandoned factory, and it was far from comfortable. Vito and Oscar saw an opportunity to build more appropriate living quarters, sure it would look like an old army barracks but they knew their men had spent plenty of time living in such places. 


Shouting, "Timber," Vito took a step back as the tree to his front crashed to the ground. The group of men felling the trees dropped tools and dragged the heavy tree towards the saw mill for processing. Vito felt some of his worries lift as he worked his muscles hard. He'd forgotten what an honest days work did for the soul. Joining his voice with the men around him he shouted out the words to old army songs as they continued their work. The songs sent his memory reeling into the past, back when he'd first raised his weapon against an enemy. 




Vito's recalled storming the beaches, all was chaos around him as the Japanese continued to fight on. He watched as the squad in front of him were cut down by automatic fire from the beach ahead. He'd cleared the first trenches, but further firing positions had been set up atop the hill. Two Type-95 light machine guns ripped the poor bastards apart. Vito grabbed a smoke grenade from his belt and shouted at the men around him to follow suit.


As the smoke covered the beach in front he shouted the order to charge. Squad cohesion had fallen apart, but Vito recognized the need to keep moving. They were sitting ducks in their current position. Keeping his head low he was the first to leave the trench. He expected a round to smash into him but was surprised as any bullets fired into the heavy smoke seemed to miss him. The man to his left was gutted by a stray round, he fell screaming but Vito could not stop and help. The only hope he or any of the men on the beach had was reaching the machine gun nests and stopping their fire permanently. 


Sprinting at full pelt Vito clambered up the hill, dragging himself up the beach. As he crested the next hill he jumped down into the next trench line laying down suppressing fire with his M1 Garand. A group of Japanese soldiers turned to return fire, but were cut down by a Thompson sub machine gun as the men gained a foothold. Vito began to relay orders to the men, splitting the force in half so they could take the light machine gun nests which lay at either side. Rushing to the right he primed a grenade and chucked it into the nest. The explosion ripped the soldiers into pieces. Reaching the nest he fired into the survivors felling any that were not already dead.


Reinforcements quickly arrived from the beach, now able to move freely they charged the hill. A captain began to order the men and Vito fell into position. They were to hold this trench line until reinforcing light machine gun crews could set up, then it was into the trees and the hill which lay in the distance. Their attention was drawn to the tree line as Japanese soldiers rushed their position. Vito began to fire his weapon at nearest approaching soldiers. 


A great shout went up amongst the Japanese line, Vito did not recognize the word but he watched aghast as the Japanese soldiers left the cover of tree line and rushed their position. The captain called out the order to fix bayonets as the Japanese soldiers continued to rush out of the tree line. Vito fell back to the drills he'd learned in boot camp. Reaching for his belt he pulled the wickedly sharp bayonet out of its sheath and attached it to the end of his M1 Garand. The captain called the order to hold. Vito struggled to hold his nerve as the tide of Japanese soldiers drew closer. More men fanned out across the trench line as reinforcement arrived, Vito risked a look behind him and saw the light machine guns crews struggling up the hill with their heavy loads. 


Just as Vito felt he was going to release his bowels in fear the captain called the order to fire. A torrent of gunfire erupted from the trench line as every man emptied his clip. 


"Bayonets, prepare to repel," shouted the captain with a voice made hoarse from smoke inhalation. 


A cloud of heavy smoke hung over the trench line. Vito's ears rang from the heavy gunfire. He could not hear or see the approaching tide. Vito fell back to his training, holding the bayonet in front of him he was glad to see others joining him at the trench line. He watched as a group of Japanese soldiers appeared from the smoke like ghosts. With a final shout of, "Banzai", they hit the line of bayonets. Vito stabbed his rifle forward gutting the soldier in front, twisting the blade he pulled back with all his might, with a sickening squelch the blade came free. The soldier's body fell into the trench forcing him back as another Japanese soldier leapt over his fallen comrade. 


Vito's world turned to madness as he fought tooth and blade against the Japanese attackers. What they lacked in size they more than made up for in determined fury. He felled another soldier with a text book stab from his bayonet clean into the bastards heart, but the fallen man was quickly replaced. Two soldiers attacked Vito from either side, stabbing at him with their sharpened bayonets. He was fighting a losing battle, unable to distance himself from their wicked blades due to the confined trench. He barely ducked below a stabbing blade aimed at his neck as the second blade connected with his shoulder. He felt the blade bite deep hitting bone a red hot pain shot down his arm and he was driven to one knee. The Japanese soldiers look of triumph was replaced with shock as Vito used his uninjured arm to pull the knife out of his boot and drive it up into the soldiers guts.


Unable to defend himself as he succumbed to his wounds, Vito watched as more American soldiers rushed into the fray. Throwing themselves into the fight to help protect the doomed defenders. Vito felt the weight which held him pinned to the floor lifting as a hoarse voice shouted out they had a survivor. Vito felt strong arms lifting him onto the stretcher as the pain finally made him pass out. 

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Vito smiled as the warden continued his furious barrage of words, heavy fists slamming into his stomach each time he dared raise his eyes to the warden and continue his sinister smile. Vito had make a mockery of the warden and his guards, turning the prison against them and murdering his victims under their noses. The fact that he had murdered one of their number didn't help things either. Stealing the guards keys, releasing the prisoners and leading a riot against the guards definitely hadn't helped.


So now he faced the wraith of the men he'd embarrassed. The same men who's very livelihoods had been further complicated by the murder of mobsters who's masters had paid for their protection in the streets. There wasn't a guard left in that jail who'd stay their hand when ordered to beat Vito fucking Vincenzo to his death. The warden was just finishing his next barrage of hatred towards Vito as the fists slackened, he dared raise his head with that same smile staring into the wardens eyes. Another fist slammed into his face and he spat a loose tooth onto the floor. 


Daring to raise his head again Vito was surprised as a knock at the door interrupted the beating. One of the guards asked after the warden stating that a lawyer was here to see Vito. The warden face turned deathly pale as realization set in, he'd been caught red handed beating a prisoner with the sort of brutality that would see him losing his job. Turning to the guard he instructed the man to get the lawyer to wait in a nearby room, that Vito would be fetched and sent there as soon as possible. 


Vito was dragged outside and roughly carried to the prisons infirmary and dumped onto a bed. His old friend Jimmy Smith shouted at the guards to get out of his infirmary, fearing for Vito's life. One guard turned to Jimmy and told him to fix up his wounds, he had a visitor that would not wait. Jimmy busied himself wiping away the worst of the blood and stitching the wounds as best he could.


"Fuck Vito they really did a number on you, how many fingers am I holding up?" Jimmy asked Vito concerned that he had suffered a bad concussion. 


Vito blinked away the stars and did his best attempt at a smile which came out more of a grimace, "Three," he responded.


"That's good at least you've got some sense left, I'll demand the guards bring you to me after your meeting with the lawyer. At least I can keep an eye on you in the infirmary, and even those corrupt fucks wouldn't dare lay a finger on you in my presence," Jimmy added as he walked over to the door and gave out his orders to the waiting guards. 




Vito's whole face was a plaster of dried blood and bruises, his concussed mind struggled to figure out why someone had sent a lawyer to see him. He was a dead man anyways, and the felonies he'd committed while in prison certainly weren't going to win him any favors in the court system. He followed a pair of guards who led him to a wooden door, throwing it open he was led inside and sat down before a rough wooden table on a rough wooden chair. 


The door was thrown open again and a man walked into the room. Vito tried to hide his surprise as he recognized the figure in front of him. He started off by threatening to have the warden in front of a court for the treatment of his client. The guards tried to argue that he was involved in a fight with another prisoner, but the lawyer quickly pointed out the cuts covering the two guards hands.


"Hell," he shouted, "You've still got my clients blood drying on your shirts," the guards realizing their peril quickly left the room locking the door behind them. 


"Well Vito you look like shit," the figure began with a smile.


"Never thought I'd see your face again, I thought I told you and the others to hit the hills, we achieved all we set out to, no point going down with the sinking ship," Vito returned trying to hide how glad he was to see his old friend once again.


"Like we fucking listened to you, we've been keeping an eye on you, and once our sources told us about completing your mission we knew it was time for a meeting," the man winked at Vito drawing a laugh from Vito who immediately winced as he was reminded about his sore ribs. 


"Just hold in there Vito, we aren't gonna let them execute you. Plans are in motion old friend, just hold out," Oscar stated holding Vito's burning gaze.


"Don't risk your necks, I'm done old friend. Pass on my regards to the men and hit the hills, you guys deserve a bit of R&R," Vito begged, Oscar could tell the fight had gone from his friend. 


Oscar knew how to handle Vito's dark moods and laughed in response, "Vito you don't have a choice in the matter. Just keep yourself alive and be prepared, you can't stop this." 


"Thanks Oscar, I could always count on you and the guys, pass on my regards I miss them all," Vito shook Oscar's hand gladdened to see his old friend. 


The pair sat in the room and reminisced about old times over a bottle of whisky Oscar had smuggled in his brief case. Oscar embraced his old friend in a big hug, reminding him to keep his head down and be prepared. Knocking at the door he made his exit, leaving Vito with a head dizzied by expensive whisky and his heart full of hope for the first time in a long time.

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Oscar marched towards the wardens office ignoring the attempts of the guards telling him he had to leave. He reminded them he was a lawyer and had a direct line with the District Attorney, should he choose he could make their lives very uncomfortable. One of the guards rushed forwards and knocked at the wardens door. The warden yelled from behind the door to leave him the fuck alone but Oscar was insistent. On the third attempt he pushed past the guards and threw the door open. The warden was sat back with his trousers down receiving some extra marital care from one of his receptionists. Oscar smiled as he watched him try to pull up his trousers as the poor lady did her best to escape the room with her dignity intact. 


Sitting down at the chair Oscar stated he might want to send his guards away, their next conversation might not be for their ears. Red faced the warden nodded at the guards, trying his best to keep face in front of the men under his employ. 


"If you order any of your guards or for that fact any of the prisoners to lay a finger on Vito's head I'll see you crucified in front of the district attorney, understood?" warned Oscar as he leant forward white knuckling the desk to emphasize his point.


"Who the fuck do you think you are marching in here making your orders, you don't run this prison I DO," shouted the warden in response, Oscar could have laughed out loud, he knew he had the man now. 


"I am the legal representation of Vito Vincenzo who just caught you and your guards beating the man, and now I catch you literally with your pants down with one of your employees between your legs," responded Oscar with his characteristic smile to solidify his point he reached for a picture on the desk of the warden and his wife, "Fine woman you have here, I'm guessing she wouldn't be too happy to hear about your extra-marital adventures?" he asked with derision. 


"Fuck you fine, I know when I'm being bribed, Vito will live out the rest of his miserable life safe in this prison, that is until the executioner comes in a week times and sends that bastard to hell," he roared in response laughing at the shock on Oscar's face, he had presumed they had months before Vito's execution.


Recovering quickly Oscar responded, "That is all I ask, just know warden I know all about you and your prison, you take a fucking step against me and I'll see your life destroyed," standing up swiftly Oscar marched out of the wardens office.


Oscar's mind raced as he was led through the prison gate and climbed back into his waiting car. This complicated things greatly. He was under the impression they'd have time to plan and prepare to break Vito out of prison. Turning the engine over he raced back to their base of operations in New York state, a plan already formulating in his head. It would be risky and they'd have to kill a lot of guards to get the job done, but Oscar felt little guilt about such actions, having met the corrupt warden and his guard he knew they were dirty. 




Vito was thoughts were disturbed by the arrival of Alfonse. The man rushed over to him and Oscar explaining that Godfather Gambino's property was under attack. Albert was watching the property and the pair thought there was an opportunity to catch the bastard with his pants down. Alfonse explained that it seemed like a full scale attack, trucks being used to knock down the defenses as armed gangsters rushed the building. Oscar sighed as Vito rushed to grab his things, there was no way he'd be able to stop the man, so instead ordered a small group to follow him. He didn't want Vito rushing in headlong and getting himself shot. 


Climbing into the back of their stolen black Cadillac's the group set out towards New York city. It was a long drive, Vito hoped against hope that they would arrive at the property in time to gut that fat bastard Godfather Gambino. He checked and cleaned his weapon during the long journey, ensuring both his revolver and Thompson sub machine gun would be locked and loaded as soon as his boots hit the ground. 

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Frank had to admit the bastard were putting up a good fight. They'd set up solid firing positions surrounding the building, he'd watched too many of his men get cut down as they moved past windows to send anymore to their deaths. He'd ordered the remaining guard to keep away from the windows and focus on the buildings entrances and stairs leading up to the first floor. The mansion was opulent, built to impress the surrounding neighbors, Frank quickly realized it was not built for defense against a determined group. 

Leaving the men under the control of his second in command, Frank rushed into Godfather Gambino's office. Ignoring the man he grabbed the phone and called 911 but the line was dead, the bastards must have cut the wire. Frank knew Godfather Gambino's residence was under the protection of the local PD, but suspected they'd been bribed to stay away that night.


Well that settled it Frank mused as chaos and gunfire rained around him, they were in a tight position. Their only hope lay in attrition, Frank was gladdened by the fact that they had enough ammunition to arm a battalion stashed around the mansion. He was confident that the men he'd handpicked for Godfather Gambino's bodyguard were up for the task.


An almighty bang shook the foundations of the house as an explosion erupted below. Frank was knocked off his feet by the blast, his vision was clouded by dust and his ears ringing from the deafening bang. He climbed to his feet on unsteady legs and shouted at his men to get up, most having hit the dirt. As expected a storm of gangsters rushed into the reception below, Frank began to unload his shotgun into the gangsters rushing into the building. Each blast of his shotgun dropped another man, taking his lead the surrounding guards added their gunfire to the room butchering the fuckers below. 




Luvinci watched the attack from the hedge line. He knew he'd taken a great risk in such a hasty attack but blood must be repaid with blood. He had been forced to pay a small fortune to Chevez and Sammy for their men's help. If all went well Godfather Gambino would be dead by the nights end, and he'd have some good news for Lucana who still lay comatose at the doctors from his wounds.


Grabbing his Thompson sub machine gun Luvinci rushed towards the buildings rear entrance, the explosion which rocked the building was the sound to attack, he watched with satisfaction as armed gangsters rushed in from all sides. The trap was laid, now it was time to claim their prize. Sporadic gunfire shot out from the windows of the mansion as the defenders got back to their feet, a few of his men went down as bullets found their mark, but thankfully Luvinci reached the building unharmed. 


Nodding to the man next to him who held a shotgun across his chest, he waited as he put his boot to the door. Rushing inside Luvinci followed gunning down Godfather Gambino's guards who lay sprawled on the floor from the blast. Ducking behind a kitchen counter he avoided the return fire from the next room. Reaching for the grenade at his belt he pulled the pin and lobbed it into the living area. The blast sent a column of dust into the kitchen as his men jumped to their feet and rushed forward, killing anyone they found inside still moving, putting an extra bullet in those laying still not wanting the enemy at their backs.


Luvinci held up his arm to stop his men as he spotted Sammy and his gang to his front. As planned they'd cleared the first floor and would now attack the front stairs. Luvinci fell to the back of the group and shared a look with Sammy, they both knew this would be the most difficult part of the attack. The reception area was a death trap, with nearly 360 degrees of cover from above. As predicted the first wave was cut to pieces, but this wave allowed more of their men to set up firing positions and to lay down suppressing fire at those above. 


Chevez and his men arrived from the corridor opposite. The three men shared a look before Chevez nodded and prepared the next wave. Luvinci turned and nodded at the men waiting in firing positions. They began laying down a field of fire on the defenders above, forcing their heads down as Chevez's men rushed up the stairs. Luvinci knew this attack was their best hope and shouted at his men to get ready. It was about time he showed these fuckers how it was done. Checking his Thompson sub machine gun was loaded he readied himself and his men.

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Frank ducked below the improvised defenses they'd placed against the banister. He swore as more of his men were torn to pieces as they attempted to return fire. All was chaos around him as bullets filled the balcony with debris and dust. He coughed some of the dust clear and risked a look downstairs. A group of armed mobsters were using the covering fire to storm his position. Laughing aloud he reached for his shotgun and blasted the first man to dare the steps to the floor. Cocking the shotgun he shouted the order to fall back. Leaping over the furniture they'd piled at the top of the steps he waited for the first man to round the corner.


His men were bloodied but prepared, if they wanted to take Godfather Gambino's life they'd have to take theirs first. None of his men shirked their duty, they all knew the risk when they'd signed up and taken the cash. Frank cared little for the politics of the New York crime families, he was loyal to whoever gave him rank and reputation, and hell who didn't like a little cash on the side. He pumped shell after shell in the unlucky swine's who rushed the stairs. As the shotgun ran dry he knew he had no time to reload, reaching for the pair of pistols he kept in his shoulder holsters he continued to fire at the oncoming horde. 




Vito followed Alfonse out the car as he ran towards Albert's hidden position. The grizzled veteran had set up a firing position in the nearby tree line. His sniper never leaving the window where they knew Godfather Gambino hid. Vito took in the chaotic attack of Godfather Gambino's mansion and knew he had to get in there, he couldn't risk Godfather Gambino's escape. Turning to his men he told them to stay put and provide cover. Pulling a scarf over his face he rushed towards the compound with his Thompson sub machine gun prepared to end any who challenged him.


Reaching the front of the property Vito found that he fit in perfectly. To the attackers he was just another mobster coming to add their guns to attack. He watched from the front door as a group of armed mobsters rushed the stairs, they were being cut to pieces, the guards clearly setting up a firing position atop the stairs. Vito swore to himself, this overwhelming attack was turning to shit, if he didn't act quick he risked losing his opportunity for Godfather Gambino's head. 


Grabbing a grenade from his belt he pulled the pin threw it over the banister and rushed towards the stairs. The mobsters around him presumed he was a leader and joined him in his headlong flight.




Luvinci gained the stairs just as the blast went off. He was thrown off his feet, tumbling back down the stairs. Little did he know that the grenade had saved his life. A bullet with his name on it was prevented from ending his life. Climbing back to his feet he shook the stars from his vision and coughed the dust and debris from his lungs. Shouting at his men to get to his feet he bullied those too slow to rise. With a suitable bullet shield to his front he pushed the men up the stairs.

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Frank awoke on the floor with bits of his men surrounding him. The last thing he recalled was hearing the telltale sign of a grenade landing nearby. He'd shouted at his men to take cover and pushed himself from the hastily made defenses and jumped away from the grenade. As the blast went off he was thrown off his feet. He patted himself down checking that all his limbs were intact, laughing to himself he rushed into a nearby room and retrieved a weapon having lost himself in his haste to get away from his imminent doom. 


He smiled to the men who waited in the room. He'd kept a good portion of the guards back out of the fight. These men were his veterans, those most willing to sell their lives for the life of Godfather Gambino. He knew they'd bristle against their orders, chomping at the bit, wanting nothing more than to slaughter the men who'd dared attack the man they protected, but Frank knew he needed a failsafe. 




Vito walked into his cell and sat down on the bed. His new position as leader of the prison fit him like an older siblings glove. While he was a natural leader, he felt he didn't have the necessary patience to hear all of the problems which assailed the prison. The prisoners prattled like old women, with all their complaints and problems, and they looked for him to bring about a solution. In reality he despised their kind, but being at the top of the prison did have its benefits, such as having his own cell and a near unlimited supply of cigarettes and prison currency. He would suffer this role only as long as necessary.


Lying back on his bed he was glad for the nightly lockdown, he needed a moment to himself to process Oscar's news. He had long grown to a life with only one hope, that he would see his vengeance fulfilled. Oscar's proposition change things and not for the better, with hope entering his heart all he had done started to eat away at him.




Vito recognized the men leading the dazed gangsters half way up the mansions stairs. Keeping his head down he joined the group who were preparing to rush the destroyed position above. Luvinci, far from a natural orator, tried to rally his troops to no avail, so instead he bullied his way to the front and led the charge. Not wanting to appear weak the others joined him in the charge, readying their weapons they took the stairs two at a time diving into whatever cover was available around the landing. Vito stayed back, no use taking a stray bullet he knew better than to bunch up when approaching a fortified position. 


Something wasn't right, Vito could feel it in his bones. Turning tail he took cover behind below the stairs as hell erupted above. Fully automatic gunfire ripped into the mob of men trying to force their way onto the landing. Vito swore to himself, fucking amateurs. Bullets ripped into the wall behind him as an almighty cheer shouted from above.




Luvinci moved forwards cautiously, while the grenade had certainly done its working destroying the bodyguards position there were not enough bodies to match the lack of bodyguards defending the top of the stairs. Looking behind him he ordered his men forward while telling the rest to provide cover. Those with shotguns edged their way forward checking hidden corners for any survivors. 


Barely able to throw his body in the ground Luvinci avoided the worst of the bodyguards ambush, he watched with horror as the men before him were torn to pieces. His remaining men held their position adding sporadic return fire to the overwhelming rush of men appearing from a room opposite the long corridor. Luvinci risked a look over his cover and swallowed down his fear, more bodyguards were pouring out of the adjoining room. Picking up a nearby shotgun he prepared to defend his life. 

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Frank laughed aloud as he watched the bastards rushing the stairs get cut to pieces by his ambush. He had to admit he was enjoying himself. Cocking his shotgun he blasted another fucker from the top of the stairs as his men rushed forwards under covering fire. This was proving to be a slaughtered. He smiled to himself at his own genius, the stupid bastards had fallen into his trap and now he was going to make them pay in blood. The press of bodies trying to force their way on to the landing dispersed rushing for the nearest cover. Frank ducked back into a nearby room as the gangsters returned fire. 


Leaning out from the room Frank nearly took a well aimed bullet to the neck. The gangsters rushing the landing tactics were changing. They were no longer blindly charging into his bodyguards overwhelming fire. They were using something approaching squad cohesion, while one group laid down suppressing fire the others would move up. Frank couldn't help but smile, well he never wanted an easy life anyways, he quickly judged the situation and began ordering his men into positions which would counter such attempts. 




Vito knew he had to act the attack had turned to a slaughter. These blind idiots had ran straight into a trap which was quickly turning into a shit show. Using his best drill sergeants voice he began ordering the men into firing positions, beating those slow to respond. He set up firing positions at the top of the stairs, using whatever cover they could find to lay down a field of suppressing fire against the bodyguards. 


One of the men in front that Vito recognized as Luvinci turned to Vito and nodded his thanks. The man was recovering from the grenade blast and sudden ambush, covered from head to toe in dust and other men's blood. Vito suggested he might want to take a group of men to the flank and try to find a way into the two adjoining rooms which the bodyguards were using as cover. Shouting at the men to cover them, he watched with satisfaction as Luvinci rushed off down a corridor to the right, the further Luvinci was away from him the better, the last thing he needed was his identity being revealed.




Luvinci led a group of men down the corridor. He held up two fingers and pointed at the door to his right, his two shotgun wielding men rushed forward while the rest fanned out to cover both sides of the long corridor. The first man booted the door in while the second rushed inside blowing a football size hole in the chest of a bodyguard waiting to launch a further ambush. The two men continued clearing the adjoining rooms taking the waiting men by surprise.


The two men appeared further down the corridor, setting up a firing position so Luvinci and the rest could approach safely. Half way down the corridor there was a left turning, Luvinci stopped at this corner and risked a look around it. At the end of the branch was a window and two doors opposite one another. Swearing to himself Luvinci quickly summed up their options, they needed to move quick. Calling over two of his group he instructed them to help the shotgunners to clear the corridor and adjoining rooms ahead, while he would take the rest of the men down the second branching corridor to clear it. 




Oscar sat down heavily in an office chair of their headquarters. He and his men had done an admirable job converting the abandoned logging camp into something approaching a head quarters. Hidden from any nearby roads by the heavy forests which covered New York State, it was an ideal location to hide out. Reaching for a bottle of whisky he poured himself a portion. Things looked bleak, real bleak, with Vito's impending execution they didn't have sufficient time to come up with a good plan. Well fuck it then, one last gamble, the men who'd chose to remain at camp had little to lose, they'd all lost their families in the bloody street wars of New York, it was Vito who had found them and given them purpose, they'd gladly give up their lives to see their friend free. 


Calling the men into the mess hall Oscar stood at their front, "as you know I went to visit Vito today and he's in a bad state. I confirmed what our intel that he has completed his mission and murdered the bastards who killed his family."


A cheer went up in response to this news, Oscar held up his hands to still the crowd, "but I come back with grave news, the bastards have brought Vito's execution forward, they're gonna put him in the executioners chair next week."


"Me and Alfonse will scout the area, get you a plan of action in place Oscar, no way are we leaving Vito," Albert responded to the nodding of the other men. 


"Before any of you accept this mission, there is no way we can succeed without killing the guards, once we cross this line I fear there will be no return," responded Oscar. 


"We all know the risks, I'm committed," Alfonse stated while looking for the others for support, they all nodded their assent. 


"It's settled then, Albert and Alfonse I need solid intel, Carl and Steve we're gonna need some means of entering the prison in disguise, I'll work on how we're going to get in and out," Oscar concluded with a smile, he was glad to have his trusted men at his back. 

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Vito noticed a change in the bodyguards attacking from up ahead, their attention was drawn to their flanks as Luvinci and his men rushed into the room. Knowing he had to push his advantage Vito shouted the order to charge, throwing himself out of his cover and running forward while emptying his Thompson sub machine magazine into the guards in front. The gangsters under his temporary command rushed to join him, pushing forward into the oncoming fire. Vito watched as many were cut down in by the weight of return fire, but was satisfied to see them selling their lives dearly as more of the guards fell to their deaths. 


Dropping his empty Thompson sub machine gun, Vito reached for the revolver he kept in a shoulder holster, putting a bullet in each of the heads of a pair of men turning to end his life. Another man fell to the ground as Vito emptied the remaining bullets into his chest. Dropping his gun Vito reached for a bowie knife he kept sheathed at his belt. He was close enough to see the white of their eyes, he slashed and stabbed with his knife killing anyone nearby. 




Frank knew he was fucked, his men were being cut to pieces by the rush of men. Well fuck, he'd lived a good life not many men in his position lived into their 40s. His attention was drawn to a man charging into his bodyguard, he watched as he emptied his Thompson sub machine gun clip, then his revolver and now he was attacking the stunned guards with knife and fists. The man looked crazed, a mad man attacking with a fury that few could stop. Frank dropped his shotgun, clicking his knuckles and neck, he'd meet this fucker head on. 




Vito was knocked off his feet as a hulking man bull rushed him, he lost his grip on his knife and watched as it fell over the side of the bannister. The wind was driven from Vito's lungs as the guard football tackled him into the floor. Vito recovered quickly, scrambling back onto his feet he charged a the bastard, exchanging blows as a fierce gunfight continue around them. The guard grabbed Vito by the shoulders and used his massive strength to throw him across the landing. Vito landed hard smashing through a plasterboard which had been weakened by hundreds of bullet holes. 


Pulling himself onto his feet he wiped the dust from his eyes as the hulking giant stepped through the gap. The bastard smiled at Vito as he rushed at him again. Vito stood no chance in a fight of strength against the brute. While Vito kept himself lean and was more than a capable fighter he was being thrown around like a sack of potatoes. The brute threw Vito across the room as if he weighed nothing, Vito hit the ground with a roll to avoid the worst of the fall, springing back to his feet he threw himself at the brute, smashing his fist into his nose then stomping down on his leg hoping to break it. 


Both men were panting from their fight, sucking in deep breaths trying to still their overworked hearts. Vito was amazed at the brute of a man's fitness. He'd expected him to run out of steam by now, but still he kept coming. Weathering the storm of Vito's attacks, while dealing out serious damage each time he swung his ham fisted hands. Vito barely ducked below a haymaker which would have taken him out the game for good. He quickly recovered, knocking out one of the brutes teeth and stunning him by smashing his elbow into his eye. Vito drove his attack forward, punching the brute in the sternum sending the man to one knee. 


Stalking his downed prey Vito was careful to stay out of arms length, he knew a man was at his most dangerous when wounded. The brute climbed to his feet bloodied and bruised. With a gladiators roar he rushed Vito's position. Vito dodged out of the way, grabbing the man by the scruff of the neck he swung him towards a nearby window and watched with satisfaction as the brute smashed out of the window and fell with a strangled yelp smashing into the floor below. Vito leant against the wall trying to recover his breath, as his senses began to return he grabbed a shotgun from a nearby weapon rack and stuffed a handful of spare shells into his pocket. Walking to the next cabinet he grabbed a colt 1911 and stuffed it into his shoulder holster, making sure to grab a couple of spare magazines and dropping them into his other pocket. 


Walking outside Vito dared look downstairs, he saw armed gangsters dropping their guns and running away from the mansion as police stormed the building. The police were taking no prisoners, any gangsters they caught were knocked to the ground and beaten ruthlessly. Any found with weapons in their hands were gunned down on the spot. Vito swore to himself and rushed out into the corridor. It was littered with broken bodies, the two sides had fought until the last second, killing each other in great numbers. 


Checking the room opposite Godfather Gambino's office Vito noticed Luvinci dead on the floor. The poor bastard had taken a shotgun shell to the chest at close range, his lungs and heart open to the air. The rest of the room was in a similar state, dead gangsters bodies piled about the room. Satisfied that his back was protected Vito opened the door to Godfather Gambino's office, his head nearly left its shoulders as the man shot at him from behind his desk. Vito was left dazed by the concussive force of the shotgun shell passing so close to his head. 


Shaking the stars out of his vision Vito pushed forward unloading a shell into the desk that Godfather Gambino hid behind. Pumping the shotgun he jumped onto the top of the desk as Godfather Gambino pushed his weight above to take another shot. Vito's next shot took the bastard square in the chest. He fell back into his chair and cried out in pain. Vito smashed the butt of his shotgun into Godfather Gambino's face breaking his nose. Reaching for a blade he kept in his boot he stabbed it into the ageing Godfather's shoulder pinning him to the chair. 


Vito took his time with Godfather Gambino, smashing his fists into the man, taking out his anger on the man who had ruined his life. As his senses returned he realized the police were rushing the building. He couldn't risk the bastard getting out alive. Grabbing his shotgun he put a shell into the fat bastards face. 

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Frank tumbled through the air his vision blurred as the ground rushed up to meet him. He landed heavily inside a thorn bush, he felt the branches cut deep into his exposed skin. The wind was knocked out his lung by the impact of the fall and a blackness took over him. 


He awoke lay in the bush on his back but mostly intact. The mansion behind him was a fucking mess. Smoking from where fires had begun, Frank could hear ammunition cooking off and knew he needed to get the hell out of dodge. Climbing onto unsteady legs he stumbled around the front of the mansion but noticed the police storming the building. Well fuck this he thought, Godfather Gambino could get fucked, there was no way he was going to prison for the rest of his life due to this shitstorm. Instead he disappeared into the cold night, hot wiring a nearby car and speeding off into the streets of New York city. 




Without Vito to rely on Oscar had got into the routine of discussing the plans with the remaining men. They'd decades of military experience between them and were proving capable planners. Oscar's biggest problem was getting inside the prison, he'd retrieved a map of the prison grounds and even walked some of the halls himself. He knew the place the televised execution would be taking place and had a good idea of how many guards were present. 


Albert and Alfonse interrupted the meeting having just returned from one of their lengthy intel meetings. Pouring themselves a cup of coffee from the pot they sat down and listened to the discussion. Oscar was once again discussing the best point of entry. Whether they should put in by boat and risk entering the prison via the yard with gun wielding men in the towers. Oscar was interrupted by Albert who stood and suggested another approach. As he explained Oscar couldn't help but smile. It was perfect, he just needed to get a message to Vito.




Oscar handed the prison guard a sack of cash for his services, reminding him that if he spoke a word he would know and be dealt with. With the cash in the guards hands he walked over to the car and retrieved a heavy sack. Oscar dumped the sack in the trunk of his waiting car and made sure to take a circuitous route back to their headquarters in case of any tails. Pulling his vehicle into the compound he walked into his office and continued honing his plan. 




Vito sat on the cold floor of his solitary cell and waited. His end was coming, that much he knew to be true. He welcomed the end, finally he would be free of his torment. The guards tried their best to torture him, mocking him about his pending execution but Vito couldn't care less. With his vengeance achieved he had little left to live for. The novel idea of Oscar and his former vigilantes rescuing him was a fading hope. He didn't resent them for it, why should they risk their lives and their livelihoods for him. He was a dead man walking. 


While sat in his cell passing the hours he saw a kite slide under his solitary confinement cell door. Quickly reading the message he smiled to himself. Fucking Oscar Vito laughed to himself. The man certainly had a reach getting a message to him in solitary confinement. The message was brief, but it was enough to light a glimmer of hope in Vito's weary heart. 


Smiling to himself he scribbled a message onto a kite, and using the draw string from a pair of his prison issue boxers he fired the piece of paper to the next cell. The message would get out, and the prisoners would enact his orders, for while he was locked down in solitary confinement for 24 hours a day, he still had a reach. The other prisoners had seen what he was capable of and all knew how a dead man had nothing to lose. Vito planned to make the guards lives hell as much as possible. A riot would be organized in his honor on the day of his execution, chaos would rain down on the prison, providing a suitable distraction to the guards. 

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Vito was bullied onto his feet then knocked back onto the floor by a guards fist connecting with his stomach. This was their daily game, their daily attempts at torture, but he cared little. He'd taken worse beatings than this, he'd suffered more than this at the hands of his Japanese captors. Making a failed attempt to get to his feet one of the guards made the mistake of reaching towards him, using the chains which bound his arms and feet he wrapped it around the guards neck and fell heavily to the floor. The guards neck snapped like a twig and he lay dead. Vito got back onto his feet laughing and spat at the dead guard, that might give them pause before they tried this shit again. 


His victory was short lived as the remaining guard called for help and men wearing riot gear rushed into the cell and beat him mercilessly with wooden batons. The guards beat Vito to within an inch of his life, when he finally stopped moving the men realized their mistake. Vito's execution was to be televised, it wouldn't do their reputation well to execute a dead man. Grabbing Vito under the arms they carried him to the infirmary and dumped him on a nearby bed. 


Vito awoke to Jimmy fussing over his broken face, the grizzled veteran was busy stitching together a deep cut over Vito's eyebrow, "morning, I see you're busy making friends again," Jimmy stated with a smile. 


Vito surprised the jails doctor when he grabbed him by the arm and slipped a note into his hand, "one last favor for me Jimmy, get that message to the address. I'm trusting you here."


Jimmy stuffed the letter into his pocket and continued his work, "of course Vito but did you really need to kill that guard?"


Vito locked eyes with Jimmy, "you know the rot that eats away at this prison, I do not commit murder lightly. That fucker had it coming."


Jimmy knew better than to argue, instead he focused on doing what he could to heal Vito's many wounds. Having finished stitching Vito's eyebrow he wiped the worst of the blood away, passing him an icepack for his two black eyes. 




Vito barely had time to recover before he was dragged out of the infirmary and marched to the warden's office. He was sat down in front of the warden with a guard to either side. Even with his hands chained to his feet, the guards had learned to be weary of the man. A wicked smile was written over the wardens ageing face. If not for the guards holding him down at the shoulders Vito would have reached across that desk and beaten the smile off his face. 


"It's nice to see you Vito, did you have a fall your face looks a little bruised?" the warden mocked to the fake laughter of his peons. 


"I'll keep this brief, as you well know tomorrow you will be executed and it will be televised. We would usually offer our death row inmates a final meal, but for scum like yourself I think the usual prison slop will be sufficient," the warden continued clearly enjoying his part in this farce. 


"None of your usual zeal, you disappoint me Vito, I hope you rot in pieces," the warden nodded at the guards to remove the prisoner from his presence. 


Vito felt the pressure holding his shoulders release as the guards prepared to move from from his seat. Sensing his opportunity he threw himself from the chair clambering over the wooden desk and smashing his weight into the warden. The force of his landing knocked the struggling warden to the floor and within arm reach. Vito used his opportunity to finally settle a score. He smashed his chained fists into the warden's face, knocking out a tooth in the process. As he wrapped the heavy chains around the wardens neck ready to end his miserable life his lights went out. A well aimed crack from a guard's baton sent him spiraling to the floor. 

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Vito awoke crumpled on the floor of his cold cell in solitary confinement. He'd counted down the days until the end of the week, to the day he'd long prepared for when he would finally meet his doom. The guards had made sure to remind him at every opportunity that he would ride the lightning soon. Pulling himself to his feet he prepared himself for the morning beating as the door was thrown open, but instead of the usual rush of heavy boots a priest entered his room.


"Come to perform the last rights father?" Vito asked.


"Yes son," the priest responding indicating that Vito should kneel.


Vito felt little from the words of the priest but understood their significant. He'd long lost his connection with God from the horrors of war, and even if he were a God fearing man, he knew there was no chance of him reaching the pearly gates. Since losing his family he'd committed cardinal sins, if there was an afterlife there was only one place fit for a man like him. The priest, clearly finished with his task knocked twice on the cell and was let out. 


A group of guards entered the room wearily, knowing a man facing his execution was likely to lash out and cause as much damage as possible. Vito couldn't have cared less however, he let his arms and feet be wrapped in heavy chains and shuffled out the cell. Walking towards his inevitable doom he could not help but smile. Secretly he welcomed an end to this chapter of his life.


Before they entered the room where Vito's execution would be televised a dark hood was put over his head. He was marched into the room blind, but could tell by the hushed whispers that there'd been a good turn out to watch his end. For he was a despised character, vilified in the press as a man who'd murdered his family and killed police officers. By the time of his arrest half the crimes in New York were being framed on him, easier to put the responsibility of the New York city mob wars on his head rather than admit that they'd lost control of the city. 


Firm hands pushed him down onto the executioners chair. The chains around his arms and feet were removed as he was strapped to the chair. He knew the bastards would make a show of it so waited patiently for his opportunity to speak. Vito overheard radio chatter from the nearby guard as a riot broke out across the jail. He smiled to himself as his plan began to unfold. The warden was a proud man, and couldn't risk this getting out of hand while the eyes of the United States were watching his prison. 



Oscar, Albert, Alfonse and the remaining men dressed in stolen prison guard uniforms. They'd paid a fortune for one of the sympathetic guards to smuggle out the uniforms, the bastard had even provided cut keys in case they needed to move about the prison freely. Pulling up in a stolen prison van they piled out of the vehicle and walked up to the front gates of Rikers Island. They were immediately challenged by the guard, but Oscar quickly responded they'd been called to provide back up. The man at the gate knew the hell that was unfolding in the prison as a riot spread across the cell blocks, so did not question them further. The man asked what was in the heavy duffel bag each of Oscar's men carried, to which Oscar responded they'd been told to bring riot gear. The guard could not argue further as the chatter on his radio increased in volume, the place was turning to shit quickly. 


Walking into the prison Oscar and his men passed the security protocols easily. The situation on the cell blocks was escalating out of control and the warden had ordered every available hand to arm themselves and put the prisoners down at any cost. Already Oscar could hear the resounding echo of shots going off in the prison blocks. Following a map that Oscar had memorized he led the men further into the prison, towards the executioners room. 


Outside the room the group were challenged again, but Oscar thinking on his feet told the guard he'd been instructed by the warden to replace the guards in the room, they were needed to quell the riot. The guard was about to argue until the radio at his belt erupted with screams as guards shouted for help. He left his post and Oscar nodded to Albert to guard the double doors which led into the executioners room. Oscar and co walked into the room and repeated their lies to the poor bastards inside. Setting themselves up in positions about the room, ready to enact their suicidal rescue plan. 

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