“You heard me! You’ll be our Hitman. We have to annihilate the competition so we can become a monopoly,” Clara said.
“We? What’s with the ‘we’? If you wanted me dead, you could have just killed me instead of sending me to kill one of the most protected men in America,” Frederick yelled. “I just arrived in America! I don’t even know my way around yet,”
Clara stood up, impatient and disappointed by the man in front of her. “You should have thought about that before making a deal with the devil,”
Frederick paced around the living area anxiously. His heartbeat sped up rapidly like African drums. He could feel a Tsunami of sweat on his forehead. She was right. He had signed a contract with the devil and the only way out was death. Clara sighed. “Stop! Relax! We both owe Don Patricelli and we can make this work,”
“What do you mean you owe him?”
“I too made a deal with him a long time ago – only, I am not as disposable as you. He needs me alive to settle some scores for him too,” She replied. Frederick suddenly became calm. He realized he had someone who was in the same mess he was in. He stopped and gave out a non-verbal stare that said, “I’m in.”
She smiled then continued. “Okay it’s an easy kill, Don Moretti and his crew will be in town. I can sneak you into the club where he will be and you can take it from there. He visits the bathroom often because of his bladder problems and he is usually only accompanied by three guards – you can take him out there if you’re quick,” Clara replied. Frederick nodded.
“Take him out with what?”
“A gun of course,”
“That’s too loud. I won’t come out of the club alive. We need to try something more subtle,” Frederick replied, leaning on the wall. Clara gazed at Frederick’s demeanor. He seemed suddenly calm and calculated.
“Have you done this before?” Clara asked. Frederick shook his head.
“Hard to believe. Seems you have killed before. You’re a lot calmer than the rest,”
His eyes widened. “The rest?”
“There were others before you who have tried to kill Don Moretti. None have succeeded. You seem to have more…what’s the word or words? Killer potential…”
He sighed then scoffed. “I just know what to do to save my life,” Frederick replied bluntly.
3
Visiting Don DanielOlivettiwasn’t easy. His paranoia was worse than a deer in hunting season. He avoided phone conversations, emails or text messages, due to fear of the Feds. Face-to-face discussions were done with extreme caution. Don Olivetti, the head of the Olivetti family, had twice the amount of guards any of the Olivetti brothers had, combined. His multiple lucrative investments, dummy million dollar companies and altercations with different mob families, made him a prime target.
Tom Olivetti decided to visit his uncle for a proposal—one his uncle might reluctantly accept. Dean drove to the front of a gate of Don Olivetti’s mansion. It had a big “O” engraved on it. Men in black suits, white shirt, black ties and black shades surrounded the compound. Tom thought about several ways to approach his uncle; from a helpless nephews approach or from the voice of an adult?
Dean clicked the button to the car’s window as one of the guards looked through the window. He glanced at Dean then glanced at Tom. He smiled.
“Welcome Tom,” the guard said without hesitation as he signaled the others to open the gate.
“The boss must have been expecting you,” Dean said. Tom nodded in a state of confusion. The drive to the main building of the Olivetti mansion felt like a mile long. The building itself had a vintage look to it with two large lion statues at the entrance. A field of trimmed green grasses surrounded the massive structure. The right side of the compound had two tennis courts. The left side had a swimming pool with three fountain structures. It was beyond luxurious. A mini golf course stood at the back of the house surrounded by trees.
Some things had changed. Tom hadn’t visited since the previous attack on his family. At that time, only five guards guarded the compound. Now, there were too many to be counted. Dean drove a long way before they finally got to the front of the house. A huge fountain stood in the center with flowers surrounding it. Don Olivetti’s house was every millionaire’s wet dream.
A man dressed in a black suit walked up to Tom’s Cadillac. He opened the door. Tom exited his car. He looked back, expecting Dean to come along with him.
“Don’t worry, Tom. It’s safe here,” Dean said. Tom walked to the front door. A guard opened the door before he could open it himself. The Butler walked up to him with a smug look of foreign sophistication. He was always dressed in a tail tuxedo and white gloves, even in the warmest of summers.
“Welcome, Tom. He is expecting you,” he said as he walked Tom through the large hallway then to the room Don Olivetti was staying in. Two guards were standing at the door. The door was opened for him once again. Tom observed the four men in the room as he walked in. They looked disappointed by his presence.
Don Olivetti’s study was huge. The flooring was made with polished mahogany wood. The furniture was crafted and hand made by famous Italian carpenters. There were several rows of tall bookshelves with steps that led to a balcony of other bookshelves—two floors in one room. At the other end of the room, there was a wide table with few books, papers, and lots of disposable cell phones on it.
“Ah Tommy! I have been expecting you,” Don Olivetti said with a warm smile.
“How you doing?” He added with an even bigger smile. His Uncle was one of the warmest individuals—a family oriented man and a true friend. His ability to switch to a hardened criminal after being soft towards his daughters was uncanny.
“Doing well,” Tom smiled back as he walked up to his Uncle. He was wearing an expensive Italian suit, black Italian shoes and a gold chain on his neck. He attempted to pick Don Olivetti’s palms to kiss his ring, according to tradition, but Don Olivetti pulled his hand away.
“No! No! You’re my favorite nephew. Don’t do that, give me a hug instead,” Don Olivetti said joyfully. Tom hugged him. Don Olivetti kissed him on both sides of his cheek.
“So what brings you here?” Don Olivetti asked, in his usual attempt to go straight to the point. Tom smiled uncomfortably then turned towards the four men present in the room. He wasn’t used to discussing family matters in the presence of strangers.
“I want to have a word with you,” Tom said. “Oh really! Go ahead son,” the Don said, ignoring the men who were seated in front of him.
“No! In private,” Tom said, trying not to make eye contact with any of the four men. They laughed.
“Whatever you want to say can be said in front of them. These men can be trusted,” the Don replied as they all continued to laugh, hysterically.
“It’s private,” Tom replied sternly. The laughing paused. Don Olivetti nodded. The four men walked out of the room, mumbling and making jokes among themselves. Don Olivetti was eager to hear what Tom had to say. Highly expectant, he moved closer to Tom. Tom remained quiet.
Don Olivetti cleared his throat, expecting Tom to say what he wanted to say, but Tom remained mute.
“What else?”
Tom pointed to the guards at the door.
“I want them to leave also,”
“Them? Okay fine!” Don Olivetti replied, signaling to the guards to leave. “Speak nephew! No one is here! It’s just you and me,” Don Olivetti said impatiently.
Tom stood up. He paced around the room. “I’m sure you know what I have been up to, Uncle,”
“Yes,” he replied without a shred of surprise.
“Okay. I came here to find out who tried to kill my father and our family,” Tom said, trying to be as blunt as possible.
Don Olivetti leaned back on his chair with a facial expression that showed a lack of surprise and limited seriousness.
“I’m sorry Tom, but I can’t reveal that kind of information to you,”
“Why can’t you?” Tom asked.
/> “Because it’s not safe for a seventeen year old to have such knowledge,”
“Seventeen? I’ll be eighteen in months,”
“Well, till then little nephew. Don’t be in a hurry to grow up,” Don Olivetti replied.
Tom sighed in frustration. “I’m not little anymore. I have seen, experienced and done what grown men wish they could do,” Tom said tempestuously.
“What? Experienced what?” the Don asked in a condescending tone. Tom tried to talk, but the Don put a finger on his lip.
“Look Tom, I admire you a lot. You have the balls of a grown man. I wish my son had your guts. Instead, he parades around clubs with members of his fraternity, spending my money like a leach…but he is who he is. I can’t fault him for trying to live out his youth. Likewise, you are still young. I want you to enjoy being young. Don’t be in a hurry to be a man. Besides, we both know your father won’t be happy with this conversation, so why bother? You should trust me to handle whoever threatens our family,”
Tom’s facial expression was full of frustration and vehemence. The word ‘no’ would’ve been a better response to his request.
“But you were your young when you avenged the death of your father,” Tom said, trying his very best to control his tone.
“That’s different son. Besides, your father is not dead so what do you want to avenge?”
“You’d rather wait till your brother dies?” Tom whispered between his teeth.
Don Olivetti’s athletic build reminded him of every man in his family. Tom gazed at his uncle’s dark shiny hair, an obvious product of hair dye. His uncle was resistant to the reality of aging. He had a bald spot in the middle of his head that bothered him a lot. His dark glistening eyes showed no sign of emotions. It was similar to Toms’, only worse.
Tom took a look at his uncle’s ring. The red rubies on its head stood out. He imagined the amount of blood that had been spilled on behalf of the ring.
After a long awkward silence, Tom smiled.
“Okay! I hear you, Uncle,” he said in a tone of defeat. His words had fallen on deaf ears and his efforts had proven futile. He felt like a grown bulldog being pampered like a kitten.
“That’s my boy! You should be focused on school work so one day you’ll wear the white garment,”
“White garments?” Tom asked.
“Yea. I mean, be a Doctor, a Dentist, Scientist…anything, but what we do. Don’t get tied up with our crap! It’s not for you. You deserve better. Get an education. Be legitimate. Start a family. Hopefully, all this will end by then,” Don Olivetti replied in a humorous tone.
“Okay! Thanks for having me. I know these days, it’s a privilege to see you,” Tom replied.
“You can see me anytime! You’re my favorite nephew,” They both walked out of the house with two guards walking right behind them. The car was waiting right in front of the house.
“Bye boy! Send my greetings to your father,” Don Olivetti said. Tom nodded in response, but frowned after realizing the repercussions he’d face if his father knew he had visited his uncle. Don Olivetti laughed.
“I’m just kidding. I know he mustn’t know you were here.” Tom nodded and smiled as the car drove off.
“Someday, he will be great,”
“What took you so long, Tom?” Tom’s mother, Beatrice Olivetti asked.
“Hanging out with friends,” Tom lied as he felt his mother’s cold and suspicious snare lingering behind his head. Tom’s lies were obvious. What bothered her was its frequency in the past few months.
“Hurry to the table, your sisters and I are waiting,” she said, trying to ignore his lie.
Beatrice, Tom’s mother, was an average heighted woman with short brown hair. She always dressed to impress – even indoors, flaunting her husband’s money with name brands like Dolce and Gabbana, Dior and the rest. She had an eye for detail and an immaculate taste for perfection.
“Hope I didn’t keep you guys waiting too long?” Tom asked as he kissed his mother and two sisters on the cheek.
“You sure did,” Francesca, his sister, said. Francesca was only a year younger than Tom while their little sister was ten years old.
“Well next time, start without me,” Tom said with a smirk on his face.
“You know how Dad is when it comes to eating together as family,” Francesca replied. Tom nodded “By the way where is Dad?”
“Upstairs,” little Sara replied. Tom smiled.
“He was worried about you. Wondering why you don’t come straight home after school,” his mother added. Tom replied with the same words he replied every day. “Hanging out with friends”.
Beatrice looked at her son in the eye, the way she usually did when she felt something mischievous was going on. To her, Tom was an open book with blurry words.
“Nothing mom,” Tom said, desperately trying to avoid his mother’s suspicious eyes.
“By the way your father is expecting some visitors here tomorrow,” Beatrice said.
“Who?” Sara asked.
“Your uncles,” Beatrice replied.
“All of them?” Tom asked. He was alarmed. Whenever all his uncles came together, it meant there was either trouble or something to be celebrated. It had to be trouble. He felt it in his gut. The only reason they would have chosen to do it at their home was to save Walter the inconvenience of travelling in a wheel chair.
“Yes,” Beatrice replied.
“They haven’t been here for ages,” Francesca replied. “What’s the occasion?” Tom asked. “Nothing, they are just here to see your father,” Beatrice replied.
Tom knew his mother wasn’t saying the whole truth, but because he just lied to his mother, he decided to let it go. Francesca always had her suspicions on the family business, but because she was the secretive type, she never talked about it – she chose to live in sheer blissful ignorance.
“Is Uncle Danny coming?” Tom asked.
“Why did you ask?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to know,” Tom said as he stood up from the table to excuse himself. Bernard, the Butler, picked up Tom’s plates. Tom nodded a “thank you”
“Well, yes Danny will be here,” Beatrice, replied.
“Okay mom,” Tom said then departed the dining room area.
4
It was twelve noon. Walter Olivetti’s compound was filled with cars. The heads of each Olivetti family unit were coming to one location that day. It was heavily secured. One attack might lead to the annihilation the most important family members. The household was in a state of frenzy.
“Mrs. Olivetti!” a guard called out.
“They have arrived!” he added. “Okay!” Beatrice replied, adjusting herself in the closest mirror. She was wearing a simple flowery dress and flat shoes.
“Francesca! Take Sara into her room and stay there. Your father doesn’t want you around during this meeting!” Beatrice yelled. Francesca took her little sister to the room without arguing. “Tom?” Beatrice yelled again.
“I’m in my room, mom,” Tom replied from the hallway.
“Good. Jonny get Walter,” Beatrice said to a bodyguard.
“Okay! Mrs. Olivetti,” Johnny said, rushing up the stairs like a scared lizard.
“Bernard!” Beatrice called.
“Yes madam,” Bernard, the Butler replied in a British accent. He happened to be from the same city as Don Olivetti’s Butler.
“Are the caterers ready?” Beatrice asked.
“Yes madam,” he replied.
“Okay then, all is set!” Beatrice said with a sigh of relief.
Ten cars drove into the compound. Five out of the six expected brothers were in it. They all simultaneously exited their vehicles as they were escorted into Walter’s home. Walter Olivetti was downstairs on his wheel chair with the help of Johnny, his body guard.
They all greeted each other with due respect and were escorted by their different bodyguards to the large dining room where they waited for the arrival of the fa
mily patriarch, Don Olivetti.
Two minutes after everyone was seated, four SUVs drove into the compound with Don Olivetti in one of them.
Tom was seated on his bed, waiting to hear the sound of Don Olivetti’s cars. After what seemed like a quarter of an hour, he heard the sound of vehicles drive into the compound. He jumped off his bedroom couch then peeped through the window.
“The meeting has started,” he said to himself as he picked up his phone to dial Dean’s number.
“Yeah Tom what’s the problem?” Dean, his personal body guard said through the phone.
“I need a favor,” Tom replied
“And what’s that?” Dean replied.
“I need an inside ear to the sit-down meeting. Can you make that work?”
There was a long pause.
“And how do you expect me to do that? You want to get me killed?” Dean asked, perplexed.
“You won’t get killed, if you don’t get caught,” Tom replied.
“You’re not sure about that….” Dean nagged.
“I don’t know Dean! All I know is, I need to know what’s going on in that meeting. Call me when you have good news,” Tom said then hung up the phone.
Tom paced around the room anxiously. Despite his anxiety and excitement for the meeting, he still thought about Nina. He dialed Jack’s number.
“Hey Jack,” Tom said.
“Yeah boss,” Jack replied in the tone he usually did when Tom gave him an inconvenient task. It wasn’t surprising. His boss was a bored seventeen year old with more power and money than he could handle. Once upon a time, Tom requested for the impossible – an audience with a local gang member who was trying to get a classmate initiated into the gang. Luckily, the only thing local gang members feared more than the police, were the Olivettis. Still, driving through the streets of Harlem as an Italian was the same as putting an uncooked juicy steak on your hands in a den full of hungry lions.
“What’s the story on Nina?” Tom asked.
“Yeah, I’m watching her right now,” Jack replied.
Olivetti: Inception Page 3
