I know, Freshman Year was supposed to be my last for a while, and Sal/Sarah was going to go on as a Young Adult. While I'm thinking of adventures for her and her teammates, this will have to do. Sal is in high school, and meets a girl whose family is in the Witness Protection Program. Thanks to my crazy friends who, as always have been a big help, from thinking of a title, to helping me over a stumbling block---Ally, Agnes, Di, Jenni, Sara, Shelby. Enjoy!
Bill Milano ran a successful Italian restaurant on Long Island, New York. He had started it many years ago, when he was fresh out of cooking school. His father had helped him buy a restaurant that was going under. Bill had managed to turn it around and build it into the business it now was. He served dishes made from the best ingredients. Fine wines graced his menu. He had hired an interior decorator to create an atmosphere of ambiance. The decorations were tasteful, friendly, and elegant. He wanted to be able to attract clientele of all ages, and his restaurant was family friendly.
Bill entered his restaurant through the front door. He was greeted by the maitre di. "Good evening, Mr. Milano."
"Good evening, Carlo." Bill continued on through the dining room and on to the kitchen. Inside was a bustle of activity as the kitchen staff prepared for the dinner rush. Bill looked over the preparations. He tried a few dishes to make sure they were up to par. Satisfied, he nodded. He spent the next few hours greeting customers and making sure they were happy. He supervised his staff well. No customer ever had to ask for a refill on their drink. Orders were delivered flawlessly and promptly. Bill was proud of his restaurant. He had worked very hard to make it one of the best on Long Island. Soon, it was closing time. The customers left. The staff finished their closing assignments and went home. Bill did a final check through the restaurant. He noticed a sack of garbage by the back door. Someone had forgotten to take it out. Mumbling, Bill picked up the smelly bag and took it out to the dumpster. He tossed the garbage into the dumpster, and was turning around to go back inside. He paused as he heard angry voices. Bill saw two men arguing in his parking lot. He saw drugs change hands, but no money. The arguing continued, until one man pulled out a gun and shot the other. Bill froze on the spot, horrified. He decided that he'd better get out of there right away. As the shooter ran for his car, Bill ran for the restaurant. He accidentally kicked a trash can, and it let out a loud bang. Bill ran faster. He made it into the restaurant just as a bullet whizzed by the back door. Bill slammed the door and bolted it. He heard footsteps outside the door, and then loud banging. He saw a shadow pass by the window. Bill ducked under the prep table and hoped he wouldn't be seen. He heard the man trying to get into the restaurant. Bill crawled on his hands and knees towards his office, where his phone was. He went in the office, and slowly closed the door. He could hear banging on the front door now. He picked up the phone.
"Hello, operator. This is Bill Milano at Milano's Restaurant. Get me the police. It's an emergency!" He whispered into the phone. Bill heard the glass of the front door shatter. He dropped the phone and ran out of the office, through the kitchen area, and to the back door. He unbolted it and ran back outside to his car. He unlocked it and jumped in quickly, as gun shots were fired in his direction. Bill started the car and floored the gas. He screeched out of the parking lot as a bullet hit a front tire. Bill screamed an expletive as the other front tire went out and he fought for control of the car. Gratefully, he saw the lights of the police cars in the distance. He only hoped he could hold on long enough to tell them what happened. Several police cars pulled up in front of the restaurant. Cops jumped out their cars, guns drawn. One of them apprehended the suspect as he tried to get away. Another approached Bill's car with his gun out.
"Out of the car! Hands on your head!" the cop ordered.
Bill got out of the car and did as he was told. He noticed the suspect was being read his rights.
"So, can you tell me what is going on?" The cop asked Bill.
"My name is Bill Milano. I own Milano's Restaurant. I saw that man shoot another man in my parking lot tonight. He saw me and tried to come after me."
"Do you have some identification, Mr. Milano?"
"Yes, sir. It is in my pocket." The cop reached into Bill's pocket and got out his wallet as shouts were heard. Other officers had found the body. One of them radioed for an ambulance. The cop looked at Bill's ID.
"OK, Mr. Milano. We will need you to come down to the station to give a statement. You can ride in my car. We'll call a tow truck for yours."
"Thank you, officer." Bill got into the back of the police cruiser. It drove away.
Once at the police station, Bill was able to call his wife. "Hi, honey. It's me."
"Bill! Where are you??"
"I'm at the police station."
"WHAT????"
"It's alright. I'm not in trouble....OK, maybe I am. I haven't been arrested. But, I did see a crime, and I had to give a statement."
"Oh, my....."
"I'll be home soon, honey. I promise."
"I'll be waiting."
Bill hung up the phone. "Can I give you a ride home, sir?" asked the cop who had questioned him.
"Yes, please," Bill said.
The chief of police, Chief Cummings, approached him. "Mr. Milano, you have been a big help tonight. The man we have in custody is Tony Boticelli. He is a notorious drug dealer. He sold some drugs to a client who refused to pay him. It ended badly for the client. Unfortunately, you happened to be there at the wrong time. We will put a guard on your house in case Tony has any friends who want to visit you."
"Do you think he will?" Bill asked with apprehension.
"He might, so be careful. We will do what we can to protect you."
"Thanks, Chief."
Bill was escorted to a police cruiser and driven home. His wife, Carol, was waiting at the door. She grabbed him in a fierce hug.
"It's Ok, honey," Bill told her. "The police are watching the house."
"Police??? Would you mind telling me what happened tonight?"
"Well, I had the misfortune to witness a drug deal gone bad, and it turned into murder."
"What????"
"Carol, calm down. You'll scare Emily." Bill referred to their 16 year old daughter.
"You see a murder go down and you expect me to be calm about it?"
"The cops caught the guy almost as soon as it happened. There's nothing to worry about."
"I wish I could believe that."
"Well, believe it. But...."
"What?"
"There are unmarked police cars watching the house, just in case the guy has friends."
"Wonderful."
"Don't worry, we'll be safe." Bill almost believed himself as he led his wife upstairs. They spent the remainder of the evening watching TV with Emily in their room. Bill had told her what had happened, so that she would know about the umarked police cars outside, and use caution. The evening news came on, and Emily stood up to leave.
"Well, I guess I will be going to bed now. Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Darling," both of her parents told her as she kissed them goodnight. Emily went into her room and closed the door.
"We might as well go to bed too," Carol said.
"I want to watch the news first," Bill told her. Carol got ready for bed and climbed in. Soon she was asleep. Bill advidly watched the news, but there was very little on the parking lot murder. The only thing mentioned was that a body had been found there. Bill shut off the tv and went to bed.
Several hours later, the family was sound asleep. The cops outside were bored with their stakeout and were wishing that it was time for the shift change so that they could go home and get some sleep. Suddenly, a dark car with its lights off screeched around the corner. A passenger threw something from the window towards the house. Before the cops had time to react, the smoking object had penetrated the window and there was an explosion. The Milanos heard the crash and the boom and jumped from their beds. Carol began shrieking as Emily ran in from her room. Bill tried to calm them both. A cop's face appeared at the bedroom window. Bill opened it.
"Is everyone ok in here?" At Bill's nod, they ordered everyone out. "You will have to come out this window. Someone threw a molotov cocktail through your living room window, and the room is now on fire. We've alerted the fire department. You must come quickly."
Bill helped Carol, then Emily out of the window and onto the ladder. He then got himself out of the house. Down on the ground, the family huddled together. They looked at their house, which was still on fire. They were approached by a police officer, Officer Jones.
"Mr. Milano?"
"Yes?"
"Sir, it is not safe for your family to stay here. We will take you to a hotel. In the morning, we will bring you back to salvage what you can, then we will make further arrangements."
"Arrangements? What kind of arrangements?"
"I am sorry, sir, but I cannot tell you any more at this time. You and your family will be taken care of."
The family was shepherded into a waiting police car as the wail of fire engines sounded in the distance.
Bill Milano and his family sat inside a hotel room. Their facial expressions were a mixture of shock, grief, and anger. How could someone do this to them? There was a police officer in the room with them, as well as one outside their door in the hallway. More were stationed out in the parking lot. There was a knock on the door. The family jumped, startled. The door opened to let in an FBI agent, Willis.
"Good evening," he told the family. "I am Agent Willis, and I have been assigned to your case. It will be my job to help you make the transition into your new life."
"New life?" Bill asked in confusion. "What do you mean, new life?"
"Mr. Milano, tonight's events have indicated that it is no longer safe for your family to stay in your home. Tony Boticelli is connected to the Mafia. He has friends and connections all over New York. We want to place you in the Witness Protection Program."
"The Witness Protection Program????" Carol asked in shock. Emily gasped.
"Yes, ma'am. Even though we had your house guarded, someone was still able to throw a molotov cocktail through your window. We want to relocate you so that your husband will live to testify at Boticelli's trial."
"Where would we go, sir?" Emily asked as she held onto her mother's arm.
"We have not decided yet. We will work out the details tonight, and tell you in the morning. I want you all to try to get some sleep. In the morning, under a heavily armed guard, we will take you to your house so you can pack. We will have a list of approved items ready for you."
"What about our house? Our furniture?" Carol wondered.
"We can try to sell your house for you. Your furniture and personal belongings will be put in storage."
"Do you think we will ever come back? Our home is here, my business, our family." Bill said with sadness.
"Maybe someday, Mr. Milano. Now I suggest you all try to get some sleep. We will have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow."
"Will I go to school?" Emily said in a small voice.
"As of tomorrow, you will no longer be registered in that school."
"But, my friends are there! I'm in choir, and a cheerleader! I can't just disappear!"
"Your family's safety depends on you disappearing, Miss Milano. Now, goodnight."
The agent knocked on the door, and was let out, leaving the stunned family behind him.
The next morning, the Milano family was escorted back to their house under armed guard. They were given a list of things they would be allowed to take. It allowed to very little more than their clothes. They were not allowed to take any journals, correspondence, or family photos. Emily sadly looked at her high school year books and put them in a box. She found her favorite childhood toy, a stuffed monkey, and put it in her suitcase. Carol wistfully looked at her wedding album and Emily's baby pictures, then they were packed away. The family packed quickly. They salvaged what they could from the burned living room. The Milanos and the Feds met in the dining room. Everyone opened their suitcases for inspection. They passed. The family were led out of their house and into an unmarked FBI van. They drove away, into their new life.