A Roll of the Dice
Chapter One: Don't Shoot The Messenger
Salvatore Leone stood staring out the office window of Caligula's Palace casino that sprawled from the plush carpet to the ceiling above. He was gazing at the masses of tourists and revellers that circulated around the Strip, and in particular at the crowds who were entering below. Five minutes ago his ghostly pale casino manager had sheepishly informed him that a group spearheaded by Carl Johnson had emptied his vaults of millions of dollars. Three minutes ago Salvatore had expressed his 'mild displeasure' at such a loss to Johnson in a phone conversation. For these last three minutes he had simply stood there allowing that 'mild displeasure' to subside. Frank Whitbread, his casino manager squirmed nervously behind him, "W.w.what now Mr Leone?" he managed to murmur. Salvatore spun round and shot Whitbread a look fury,
"You can get outta my fucking sight Whitbread! You've got a casino to manage! Get on the phone to Tony and tell him to drag his ass here now! And be fucking thankful I haven't thrown you out that window for this!" Whitbread was nodding feverishly to Salvatore's every demand. "And stop nodding like a fucking dog ya stupid bastard!" He hastily left Salvatore to formulate his vengeance in isolation. Salvatore was certainly not prepared to allow Johnson to go unpunished and was prepared to unleash all at his disposal if necessary. Salvatore leant forward and dialled a number into his phone, two rings later a gruff voice answered,
"Don Leone?"
"Angelo come and see me tomorrow, I need a word" Salvatore answered. The phone on the other side hung up in compliance.
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CJ was sat relaxing at a safe house of his in Blueberry, Red County. He was driving across state from Los Santos to San Fierro to meet with Cesar. While sat out in the back yard soaking up the sun he smiled to himself from Sweet's parting remarks back in Ganton. "Damn fool! Why you gonna spend half the damn day driving when you can fly there on a jet in an hour?" CJ had simply shrugged at Sweet's question with a grin. He just preferred a drive on the open road now and again. Sweet was probably guessing to himself that CJ was lying low after the raid of Caligula's Palace but CJ genuinely wasn't worried. After all he'd taken care of two of the families in Las Venturas and back in Liberty on his own. What the hell could Salvatore throw at him but empty threats? He shook himself out of his dreamlike state and staggered to his feet; it was time to continue on to Fierro.
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Salvatore didn't like holding Angelo Romero's gaze for too long, he was the closest to the devil incarnate that he had ever experienced. Romero was massively feared on the eastern seaboard and his reputation was slowly spreading through the underworld across the country. He was emotionally dead, a brutally efficient killing machine well-schooled in torture and death. And Salvatore had him totally under his control. "Angelo as I'm sure you have heard through the grapevine already, we suffered quite an embarrassing loss. A loss not only in money but reputation from the fact a bunch of uneducated, unrefined, amateurs have robbed me blind!" Salvatore paused momentarily during his briefing; Angelo simply stared back at him in with a silent attentiveness. "Carl Johnson. Carl Johnson is the punk we've got to thank for this and I want you to punish him." Angelo nodded nonchalantly; he was well aware why he had been called. Salvatore continued, "But I don't want him touching – yet. Rough up someone close to him. That prick has spread himself thin all over the state so I'm sure you won't have to march into his so-called hood to find yourself an acquaintance." Salvatore rose from his seat and paced over to Angelo resting a hand on his shoulder, "This is very important to me Angelo, I have no doubt you will help the family in this matter." Angelo looked up from his seat to Salvatore, loyalty burned intensely in his eyes. He rose to meet Salvatore, took the old man's hand and kissed it tenderly.
"It will be an honour Don Leone. Leave the matter to me. It is now my concern." Angelo accepted the task given to him with pleasure and a thin smile spread across his bullish face, he left the office. A shadow of menace still lingered around Salvatore, it comforted him as he knew that Carl Johnson was soon going to become painfully aware that the Leone family mafia were gravely serious. He sat back in his chair and picked up his phone while dialling a number, a gravely and familiar voice answered,
"Yeah?"
"Tony it's me. How are things shaping up back home?"
"Like clockwork Sal. I've mustered up our best hoods ready to come visit."
"Good, good. We're ok to leave Alessandro holding the fort for a while? I don't wanna leave Saint Marks to wrack and ruin."
"Yeah the guy's ready for it. He's shadowed me for a half year now, he's ready to join me as a capo. We'll be in San Andreas by the end of the week, I don't wanna leave until I've left the triads a goodbye present."
"Well" Salvatore mused, "thing's are falling to plan at last."
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It took CJ another couple of hours to finally arrive at the garage in Doherty, San Fierro. It was now late in the afternoon, but the sun was still relentless. Cesar was busy tuning up a car in the yard, he was that deep in concentration that he never heard CJ pull up. "Sup homie!" CJ shouted in an attempt to startle Cesar, it worked. The poor guy nearly caught his head on the bonnet he'd raised.
"Shit! Hey CJ! You scared the shit outta me you son of a bitch!" They shared a laugh. "Let's go inside holmes, I wanna talk business. I've got some great ideas to expand this place." CJ looked at Cesar in tired yet good-natured recognition, the guy was always full of ideas and most of them fell flat,
"Ok, ok, lead the way, I wouldn't mind being entertained!" They shared another laugh as they strolled inside the garage.
It was just after dusk when CJ was ready for leaving the garage; for once he had been pleasantly surprised. Cesar was finally starting to string some promising ideas together, and was sounding like he could take the business places. He hadn't realised how late he'd stayed there and wasn't in the mood for anymore travelling so decided on the apartment by the beach at Palisades. CJ promptly hopped into his car and started the short drive across the city. When he sped off CJ never noticed the darkened saloon parked over the road. The car had been there for most of the afternoon with its mystery occupant observing the activities at the garage and waiting patiently. The occupant had waited long enough. Angelo Romero left the car and prowled over into the garage where Cesar was finishing off alone. Two minutes later Angelo left the garage with an unconscious Cesar flopped over his lofty shoulder. He tossed Cesar into the car and sped off.
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Cesar was snapped out of his stupor by a mighty fist to his jaw, his head snapped back violently in reaction. His gaze darted up to find a massive figure dripping in menace stood over him. He surveyed his surroundings. They were both in a dusty, bare, barn in what could be anywhere. Angelo, of course knew where they were, it was a favourite place of his in San Andreas, the desolate ghost town of El Castillo Del Diablo in Tierra Robada. Cesar was starting to panic, he was well aware that there was a good chance he wouldn't leave this barn alive. "What do you want from me?" His captor didn't reply. "What do you want from me? Huh? What the fuck is this?" Cesar began to sweat profusely. Angelo pulled his prisoner onto his feet from the corner of the barn he was stooped in. The barn was unremarkable; three wooden beams spaced in a line down the middle of the barn supported the roof struts above. The middle beam had a large rusty iron hook bolted into it about eight feet high. Below it sat a simple wooden stool. It was only when he was pulled onto his feet that Cesar realised his hands were bound together with coarse rope behind his back. Angelo dragged Cesar over to the central beam and stood him on the stool, Cesar began to shake from dread and nervous anticipation of what the man before him was going to dispense. Cesar now stood on the stool, the beam just within reach behind him. Angelo paced around the back of Cesar and grasped his hands. He yanked Cesar's arms up and hooked his bound hands onto the fixture. Cesar gasped at the discomfort of having his arms pulled behind him in so unnatural a fashion. Angelo now returned to face the nervous yet still quietly defiant man before him. Angelo cleared his throat,
"What I want from you" he growled "is to pass on Don Leone's regards." His eyes flashed with pleasure and fury as he kicked the stool from beneath Cesar's feet. Cesar screamed in pain as his unsupported weight began to tear at his shoulder joints; his arms slowly pulling further away from their sockets. His agony rang out of the desolate barn and clattered against the mountains surrounding the lifeless town. While suspended in anguish Cesar was punched brutally across the face repeatedly, his face was slowly transformed into a bloody mess. Some minutes later and confident he had suffered enough Angelo lifted Cesar from the fixture and hurled him against a wall. Cesar crumpled to a heap on the dusty wooden floor, breathing heavily and moaning from the excrutiating pain. He watched his captor stride out of the barn into the harsh light of the early morning and drive away. Silence slowly engulfed him.
Thanks for reading. Chapter 2 will follow shortly!