by Ws Greer
You better remember it forever, I’m Dominic Collazo.
I stop what I’m doing and walk over to Alannah, who’s sitting on the edge of the bed, still wearing her “pajamas,” which is a nothing but a big St. Louis Blues jersey. The apprehension is deep in her eyes, and even though there isn’t anything I can do to take that away, I can do my best to try to make her feel better about it.
“Listen, babe,” I say, as I kneel in front of her and take her hand. “If I don’t go down there and take care of this right now, we’re gonna have a fucking war in the streets of St. Louis. Victor Fronzo is an old hard-head, but you know me—I’m gonna take care of it like I always do. You’re gonna worry no matter what I say, but try not to. Victor’s a boss just like me. He can’t make a move on me without approval from the Commission, so the last thing that’ll happen is a shootout. Everything will be fine, and I’ll be back late tonight. You know I got this. This is just how we do business.”
Her worried expression doesn’t change a bit.
“I know,” she says in a whisper. “I just couldn’t take it if anything happened to you. I’d kill him myself if he hurt you.”
I just have to smile after that one.
“Well I appreciate you getting all gangster for me,” I say behind a light chuckle. “But you won’t have to kill anybody, because nothing’s gonna happen to me. I promise.”
I give Alannah a gentle kiss on the lips before getting up and going back to my side of the bed. I grab the duffel bag that’s there waiting for me and finish stuffing in the bullet proof vest. Then, I toss in two nine millimeter pistols from behind my nightstand, a three-fifty-seven Magnum from the closet, and a shotgun from under the bed. Frankie’s already downstairs waiting to take the four-hour trip to Chicago to sit down with Victor and Giovanni.
Time to go to work.
“Why didn’t we know the truck belonged to Victor Fronzo?”
“I don’t know, Dominic. It just never crossed any of our minds,” Frankie says as we exit the highway and head towards Chicago’s inner city.
“I feel like this could’ve been avoided,” I reply, looking out the window at the bright lights of the city. “Robbing our own guys doesn’t look good, you know. It looks like we don’t know what the fuck we’re doing. Like we don’t have any control.”
“Yeah, I know,” Frankie answers. “Don’t worry about it, Dominic. I know you’re like a prodigy in This Thing of Ours, but you can’t know everything all the time. Sometimes mistakes are made.”
“Mistakes in Our Thing get people killed,” I snip. “Especially bosses.”
“It’s not the mistake that gets people killed, it’s the action after the mistake. It’s all about how you handle it afterwards. We did the right thing by reaching out to Victor last night and setting up this sit-down for today. As long as we go in with an open mind, knowing we’re gonna have to bite the bullet.”
“Oh, fuhgeddaboutit,” I say. “I already know this is gonna cost us. I just hope Victor is reasonable. I don’t wanna have to do anything I’ll regret.”
Frankie doesn’t reply, choosing only to glance at me for a second before refocusing on the road. I don’t think either of us expects Victor Fronzo to be reasonable.
When we pull up to Big Vic’s warehouse, the place looks completely dead. We left early this morning, so the sun is still shining bright. Giovanni told us Victor wanted to meet in the middle of the day because it looks less suspicious than trying to do something at night in a place like this. There are no cars outside, all the doors are closed, and as we make our first pass around the outside of the warehouse, neither of us sees anything.
“This is the place, right?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Frankie replies, looking out the window. “I’ll circle around again.”
Frankie eases onto the gas and we start around a second time. When we get around to the back side this time, a big overhead garage door is pulled up, and in the entrance stands a husky fucking giant. This guy is at least six-four and has to be pushing three-hundred pounds. He has absolutely no hair on his head and his face is completely clean shaven. The only thing he’s wearing on his face is a mean scowl as he glares at us through the opened garage door. His white t-shirt definitely came out of the big and tall section of some department store, and he doesn’t resemble your usual made guy. He looks like a regular, albeit extra-large, Joe Schmoe off the street, which is exactly how the Chicago Outfit operates under Victor’s rules. They’re quiet and under the radar. You won’t know they’re there until they’re killing you.
The behemoth at the door crosses his giant arms and waits for us to park Frankie’s Escalade in front of him. Once we hop out and approach him, he nods a greeting.
“Long time no see, Giovanni,” I say.
“It has been a long time, Dominic,” Giovanni Cirillo replies. His face never shows any sign of a smile, and he doesn’t bother to pat us down because he knows even if we have guns, we wouldn’t dare use them. Nobody wants a war. “Mr. Fronzo’s inside. Follow me, please.”
Frankie and I let Giovanni lead the way. He turns around and walks towards the other end of the warehouse where there is very little light. As my eyes adjust, I can see a dark figure sitting in a chair in the corner of the spacious warehouse. A few more steps and I can make out the gray-haired Victor Fronzo, wearing a black suit and puffing on a cigar.
As we approach, Victor doesn’t stand, he just sits there eyeballing us as we make our way to him. The stories of the things Victor has done in his lifetime don’t exactly fit with the image of the man I see in front of me now. Victor is seventy years old, and he looks every bit of it. His hair is gray and thin, and his frame looks frail and weak, but this is the same guy who’d scalp you for saying the wrong thing. He may be elderly, but he’s not to be tested, just like I’m not. I won’t let my guard down when it comes to dealing with him.
When we reach the small, round table that only has one other chair that I assume is for me, Giovanni doesn’t say anything. He looks at me, then glances at the chair before settling on a spot next to the wall and watching us like a bouncer in a packed club. I look to Frankie, and he follows Giovanni, the two of them like bodyguards ready to act on a moment’s notice. Once the two of them are settled, I take my seat next to Victor.
“So, we have a bit of a situation,” Victor begins, puffing on his cigar and running a finger around the rim of a small cup of whiskey resting on the table. His voice is deep and airy, almost like a dying cancer patient. “You have something that belongs to me.”
“Yeah, I do, but I don’t think of it as a situation,” I counter. “I think of it as an accident. A misunderstanding.”
“A misunderstanding? I suppose it is. I’m told you didn’t know the truck belonged to me.”
“Nah, we didn’t, that’s why it’s a misunderstanding.”
“Whether you knew or not, I’ll never know,” he snips. Victor doesn’t make eye contact with me as he blows smoke up in the air.
“The truck wouldn’t have been approached if we knew it was yours, Victor.”
“The fact that it has my name on the side should’ve been a dead giveaway. But that’s the thing with this younger generation of wise guys. You got no respect for your elders, think you can just take everything you see.”
I have to take a deep breath to keep myself from getting into it with this guy. I don’t like his tone, his posture, or the fact that keeps puffing on that fucking cigar like he’s above me. Yes, he’s been in this thing much longer than I’ve been alive, but I’m a boss too, so talking to me like I’m low on the totem pole is a bad idea, no matter who you are. Nonetheless, I know who this is and the power his name wields with the Commission, so I exhale.
“I know you’ve been in this a long time, Victor,” I begin, treading lightly even though it pains me. “But my guy just didn’t know the truck was yours. Jimmy didn’t mean no disrespect. It’s just a misunderstanding. It won’t happen again.”
“Is that
your version of an apology?”
“An apology?” I repeat, nearly startled by the word. “I ain’t apologizing for nothing. But I am assuring you it won’t happen again.”
“Okay. Well, I can accept that,” Victor replies, finally looking at me. “However, in Our Thing, when a mistake like this is made, an assurance alone won’t do. There has to be compensation for the delay you’ve caused.”
I glance at Frankie who does a good job of keeping a straight face considering where this conversation is headed.
“So, here are my terms,” Victor starts, looking up at the smoke as it escapes from his mouth and forms a cloud around both of us. “The truck you stole had money in the back, which I’m sure you know by now. One-point-two million dollars, to be exact. I want that truck, with every single dollar in its exact place, delivered here tomorrow. Along with that, there will be an additional five hundred-thousand in a box of its own, from your family to mine, as restitution. Does that sound reasonable?”
What, are you fucking kidding me? Of course that shit doesn’t sound reasonable, and I’d love nothing more than to punch this guy in his fucking neck for even pitching this shit as an idea. We’re all a part of the same thing here. We’re all connected, tied together by the same blood, the same brotherhood. And this is how we treat each other over an honest mistake? Fucking old heads can’t stand the idea of things being taken over by the younger generation. It doesn’t matter what it is, the older generation always despises the younger one for doing things differently than they did it. The old always think the young are lazy and irresponsible, and therefore need to be taught a lesson in manners. Well, I’m young and new, and I say fuck that. Either move your old ass out of the way, or you will be moved.
“Half a million dollars?” I say as a question. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. Jimmy made an honest mistake, so what’s with the steep price, Victor? Is this how we’re gonna treat each other?”
“It is when you steal from a boss like me.”
“A boss like you?” I feel myself chuckle as I think about the kind of boss Victor believes he is. I have to laugh at how he thinks he’s the kind of boss I’d be afraid of. He doesn’t know that that kind of boss doesn’t exist. A person I would fear has never been born on this earth. “You don’t know me very well, and I’d hate for you to get the wrong impression, so it’s important that I’m honest with you. I don’t give a fuck what kind of boss you think you are, Victor. I’m not the kind of person you make an example out of. I know you’re seventy years old, and I’m only twenty-seven, but if you’re under the impression that I owe you something simply because you had the luxury of being born before me, you’ve got it all wrong. I don’t owe you shit. That price is flat-out disrespectful, and you know it. I don’t handle being disrespected very well. I came down here under the assumption that you’d be reasonable, but if you want to act like I’m supposed to bow to you and kiss your ass, I’ll gladly show you that you’ve got the wrong fucking person. It ain’t a good idea to go down this road with me, Victor.”
Victor looks shocked as he glances at Giovanni, who stiffens. In response, Frankie’s muscles tighten. Shit just got real.
“I see,” Victor responds. “So, it’s war you want then?”
“Nah, I’d like to have this bullshit behind us, but if it’s a war you’re looking for, I’ve got no problem with that.”
I look up at Frankie, and I can see him pleading with me nonverbally. He looks at me, then glances down the long corridor, where two more guys stand holding machine guns. Then he looks the other direction, forcing my eyes to follow his, and I see three more men holding guns that resemble AK-47’s. I realize what he’s trying to tell me. Shut the fuck up, before you get us killed.
Victor glares at me, smiling at the moment I realize I’m on his home turf, in his warehouse, surrounded by his goons. He knows I have to back down unless I’m willing to die right here and now.
“I’ll ask again, Dominic,” he says, puffing his cigar again. “Is it war you want?”
I glance at Frankie again, and I have to swallow hard as he slowly shakes his head. There’s a time to be brave and a time to be smart. This time it’s the latter.
“Okay, Victor,” I say, biting my lip. “Half a million dollars to reconcile the mistake. Okay.”
“Good,” Victor chirps, just as he finally brings himself to his feet. He places the cigar in a black ashtray next to his glass of whiskey, and extends his arms for me to embrace him. Now he wants to be brothers? Motherfucker.
I push my frustration to the side and stand up. Victor is at least six inches shorter than me, and his frame looks even more fragile standing in front of me. I accept his embrace and feel like I could crush his little body in my arms right here and now. I could snatch the life right out of this little troll, if not for those fucking machine guns at the end of the hall.
After our embrace, Victor picks up his cigar again before speaking. “Leo was right to choose you. You could go far in this thing if you keep your nose clean.”
I take the compliment as an insult. Victor doesn’t respect my position as boss because he feels his seniority puts him above me. He’s condescending, and he’s doing it on purpose, but I have to let it slide.
There’s a time to be brave, and a time to be smart.
“We’ll talk soon,” I reply, then I nod to Frankie who finally leaves his post and follows me towards the garage door from which we came, bypassing the two men holding the machine guns, who glare at us.
Once we’re back in the truck, Frankie finally speaks.
“That was too fucking close,” he says behind a sigh of relief. “Half a million fucking dollars?”
“I know, it’s bullshit,” I answer. “But I didn’t really feel like dying today, so I did what I had to do. I didn’t realize he had us surrounded like that.”
Frankie exhales as he starts the SUV and drives away from the warehouse. “I know,” he says, “I was just glad you saw me before you said anything else. But what do you want to do about the money? Half a mil is no joke.”
“No shit. But we make that back in a day, fuhgeddaboutit. We’ll pay this cock sucker off, then it’s back to business as usual. We’ll be done with him. Call Jimmy and have him set up his crew to make the delivery first thing tomorrow morning. I want this shit over with as soon as possible, because if I have to meet this motherfucker face to face ever again, there’s no way I let him live through it.”
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
“Oh. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“What’s this call about?”
“An opportunity has presented itself.”
“Is that right? Well, it took you long enough. Luckily, things have been quiet. What exactly is going on?”
“I’m not talking about this over the phone. We need to meet again.”
“Alright. Same place as before?”
“Yeah. But it needs to be tonight. Clock’s already ticking.”
“Fine. I have to say, I’m surprised you’re finally interested in this. I thought you’d lost your nerve after all this time.”
“I hadn’t lost my nerve. I told you the timing had to be right if we wanted to do this, and now it is. I’ll be free in a couple of hours. We can meet then.”
“Sounds good. I’ll see you there.”
“Wait, there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“If we start this now, there’s no going back. We’re risking everything to remove him from power. There’s no U-turn for this shit. If we meet tonight, this is the beginning of the end of Dominic’s reign. You understand that, right? Are you sure you’re still willing to do this?”
“I understand it perfectly fine. I knew what I was doing when I came to you, and that hasn’t changed over time. This is what’s best for everybody. You get what you want, and I get what I want. So, I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Alannah
�
�Good morning, beautiful.”
The sound of his voice is like a massage to my soul, relaxing all the way to my core. When I went to bed last night, Dominic wasn’t here, so his presence is a pleasant surprise.
“Good morning,” I answer back. “I didn’t know you’d be here. How’d everything go yesterday?”
Dominic leans over and plants a soft kiss on my lips before answering. He stares at me for a second, admiring my face, his shirtless torso teasing me.
“It was good,” he says. “It went about as well as we thought it would.”
“So, what was we he like?”
“Victor?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, he’s the kind of guy you hate unless he’s on your team. And since he’s not on my team, I’d like nothing more than to put a bullet in his heart, right next to his fucking pacemaker.”
“Wow. I see. What’d he say about the situation?”
Dominic breathes in deep and lets it out in a big huff.
“He wants five hundred-grand in interest.”
“Holy shit,” I reply, surprised at the price tag. “Half a million dollars? That’s ridiculous. Are you gonna pay that?”
“I guess I have to,” Dominic says. I can see the frustration buried behind his furrowed eyebrows. “I tried to fight it, but he had us surrounded, and I know he would’ve killed us if I didn’t go along with it. Jimmy made a mistake that affected his family, so he has a right to have demands. I don’t gotta fucking like it, but I gotta respect the rules to Our thing. We’ll do what we gotta do, and then it’ll be over and we can move on.”
