A full moon arose over President Street, setting the stage of a showdown in Red Hook, South Brooklyn's concrete-cracked Wild West. Junkyard dogs roamed the colorful cargo containers on the shipping yards. Derelicts lay passed out underneath the Brooklyn Queens Expessway. A car cruised silently past Jackie's Charcolette at two-thirty in the morning. A package flew out the back window. Inside was the last outfit of Joe Jelly (Gallo Gangster), wrapped around several dead fish. Lying at the bottom of Sheepshead Bay, Joe Jelly slept with the fishes.

URGENT

TO DIRECTOR, FBI

FROM SAC, NEW YORK

INFO RECEIVED THAT JOESPH GALLO HAD GATHERED A LARGE GROUP OF MEN IN VICINITY OF VAN BRUNT AND COLUMBIA STREETS, BROOKLYN. MAY HAVE THOMPSON MACHINE GUN. GALLOS HAD WARNED INHABITANTS OF AREA TO KEEP OFF THE STREETS.

On the FBI tip, Inspector Martin ordered his men to barge in on a midnight raid. Shadows moved across the rooftops toward the Dormitory. Raiders ran up the creaky narrow stairs to the second floor and flicked on the light, revealing Joey, Blast, Chice, and Lefty, sitting around a linoleum table.

"What are you doing sitting in the dark?"

"We were talking," said Joey. "What's that, a new crime?"

Bringng in floodlights, the raiders looked under furniture, behind the doors, and into the closet, where they found a box of .45s and Vinnie the Sicilian. They'd expected twenty-five men armed with Tommy Guns, but the Gallos wired up a makeshift network of intercoms and walkie-talkies, buying plenty of time to hide.

According to an FBI agent, during the police raids, the Gallos jumped out the rear Dormitory windows and shimmied down hanging ropes and ladders into adjacent buildings.

Paths of entry and escape lay throughout the rubble-strewn back lots, from the third-floor apartment at 31 President to the entire building at 75 President. Hideouts and stash houses for the arsenal were up and down this single block of President Street. The only weapons found in the raid were two double-barreled shotguns lying on the rooftop, unconcealed and perfectly legal.

The boys spent the night in the rat-infested Raymond Street Jail, and at noon were brought before Flatbush Court on consorting with criminals, each other.

"We arrested them," said an officer, "because we didn't want to find bodies all over the streets. It was building up to open warfare like the Roaring Twenties."

Free on bond joey strutted down the stone steps of Flatbush Court. The cufffs of hiswhite button-down hung loose, half rolled up and unbuttoned. Mondo the Midget trailed behind.

Part 3 will be added shortly so bear with me. Thanks.

ADD ON:

Unable to lock up the gallos for good, but not wanting a massacre on his watch, Inspector Martin ordered the Pizza Squad to guard the eight-block radius around the Dormitory with 24-7 surveillance on the Gallo gang.

"Without our protection," said Martin, "their lives would not have been worth a counterfeit subway token."

Inspector Martin called roll every morning to ensure Kid Blast, Peanuts, Punchy, Tarzan, Vinnie the Sicilian, Sammy the Syrain, and Big and Little Lollypop had survived the night.

Detective Bartels got friendly enough with the Gallos to join them for dinner, better then the usual stakeout grub. Umberto donned a chef's hat and boiled pasta in his ten-gallon pot for the big eaters, Tarzan especially, a Gallo waste-management interests.

"He could eat two pounds of spaghetti," msrveled Bartels.

Others passed the time building remote-control model airplanes, practicing yo-yo tricks, and playing jacks on a stoop with neighborhood kids.