Prologue
The night was a still as to be expected in Liberty City. The gunfire had shifted across the city and traffic was starting to thin at Callahan Bridge. On the Portland side everything was peaceful, the wide street wrapped in darkness. It was 3:00AM, sure, but in a big city nowhere is ever really asleep. But for Portland it was pretty quiet.
Not for much longer.
With a roar and a flash of electric blue the Stinger burst out from the Staunton Island side of the bridge. The speeding car was doing a hundred easy as it erupted from the mouth of the bridge like a bullet. The driver- hidden behind tinted windows- savagely lurched the car to the left and the beautiful car swerved to obey his command. It swung hard left and started to rapidly disappear down the dark street towards the Red Light District. Merely ten seconds after it had appeared, the Stinger vanished once again, as if it never was.
But the streets have eyes, and ears, even when they sleep. Through its own infallible method soon the underworld will know that a dark spirit has returned to Portland, someone who had been an urban legend before being a pariah.
Soon all of the underworld will know.
Fido is back in Portland.
Chapter One: Emergency Meeting
A crisp morning was breaking over Portland. The pitch of the night had been chased away by the eager light, and now most of the island was bathed in glorious sunlight. Especially so in Saint Marks.
One of the highest points in Portland the borough was baking in the light; pedestrians on it busy streets grateful for the warmth in an otherwise chill summer. But they did not complain; many of them were glad for the glimpse of home the pure sun represented.
For over a century Saint Marks had been a Sicilian and Neapolitan stronghold, and the immigrants had brought over all of their culture and transplanted it expertly in the New World.
All of it. Even the part that lives in shadow. The Friends of the Friends…
At the peak of the hill was an elegant and ostentatious clubhouse. It was an outfitted beach house with a spacious car park and some expensive extensions. It looked like a normal social club, just a little exclusive. But the men at the gates around the clock, the ones with the bulges under their suits, belied its innocence. So did the similarly dressed men who patrolled the grounds of the club in pairs, or the one man who seemed to spend all day on the roof with… was that a rifle?
For those in the know, the Gentleman's Club as it was simply called was the heart of a criminal dynasty that had been present in Liberty as long as the immigrants. A crime syndicate that was probably the most powerful and respected of all the various underworld factions in Liberty City. The Leone Family.
To the public, the Leone's were a movie. Sharp-suited Mafia kingpins issuing orders to slick killers and hustlers on the street to control a mammoth underworld enterprise. To the LCPD they were a constant irritation. Their members were constantly under arrest but every charge against the hierarchy, especially its reputed boss, Salvatore Leone, had failed miserably. And to the criminals? Well, the Leone's were people not to be crossed. If you worked for them, just keep earning and don't get out of line. If you don't, keep it that way. Easy.
Inside the plush club three men weren't thinking of their public image. Sitting and standing around the lounge, each of them was intensely worried about the news they'd just received. They were waiting for a fourth man before they could vent their feelings. They look very different, but are bonded by a similar aura of menace, of institutionalized criminality and hair-trigger violence. These are obvious gangsters with a capital G.
They should be celebrating. The Leone Family as it stands this day is at the peak of its powers. The Forelli Family, a long-time thorn in their side, has been all but wiped out. The once-feared Chinatown Triads have been demolished in a costly gang war, losing their leaders, businesses, men and some lucrative territory. Even the low-rent Diablo gang pays homage to the Family. The LCPD and City Hall are helpless or in their pockets.
But every man there is nervous. There is no victory in this room.
Lounging in a seat is Luigi Goterilli, staring hard into his whiskey. He's not a big guy, maybe five-five, but he looks as smooth and elegant as a male model and exudes confidence. In fact, he almost looks what he is: a pimp. Luigi runs the Leone's vice rackets in the Red Light District, one of its richest territories. His smooth exterior reflects his style of business. He's very good with his ladies, and they almost compete for his affections, but the cold, imperious look in his eye is different.
That's the look of a man who has eaten pizza while dismembering a body. That's the other Luigi, the one who keeps Leone business in the Red Light District running smooth.
Standing and looking out across Liberty bay is Toni Cipriani. Older than the other two men he was also much larger. Almost six-foot-two and with a girth to match, he was a throwback to the days when wiseguys had real physical presence as well as their reputations. He was swilling a brandy and taking occasional sips to calm his nerves. He was nervous, and he didn't like it.
Cipriani was the underboss of the family; it's second in command, right under the boss, Salvatore. His instructions to the Family were given via. Toni, a man who he trusted frequently with his life. And Toni himself would die for his boss. His loyalty, and his ferocious temper, has been indispensable in keeping the Family prosperous. His savagery towards rivals is such that many rival crews are simply too scared of him to fight.
Finally lounging on the sofa is Joey Leone. Joey looks out of place to say the least. Against the sharp suits of the other two men he was clad in working mans overalls. Wearing dungarees at a Family meet! His two older associates were amused at his balls, but didn't show it. They had bigger things to worry about.
Joey was a grease monkey; he loved cars. He spent hours at his Trenton garage repairing and souping up cars. He got a real kick out of it. But then, again as Leone's only son, he had certain Family responsibilities. Joey was a capo, or captain, in the Family and as such was a powerful man, even at twenty-six. Using the garage as a front his crew specialized in armed robbery and car theft. He was more low-key than Toni and Luigi but was constantly clashing with his father. The stern Sicilian traditionalist just couldn't grasp his son's mechanical obsession and his reluctance to devote himself to The Life. It was an ongoing battle.
But now Joey was silent. Truth be told, he was getting a little scared. Scared for himself, his father... the whole family.
Because he was back.
That was why they were all there, waiting. Two were scared, one was almost resigned, but they were all waiting. And until they consulted him about what they knew, anything was possible and anyone could be a target.
"What's taking him so long?"
Toni broke the uneasy silence, turning away from the sun.
"I know he said he'd be delayed but we told him how crucial this information it for fucks sake! He should at least-"
"He'll be here when he can. Just cool it Tone!"
Joey's soothing voice overdid Toni with surprising ease. Maybe Toni was learning to obey the son like the father. Or maybe he simply wanted to keep his mouth shut for now.
Finally a black limousine emerged around the corner, gliding into the Club courtyard. Everyone in the lounge perked up. They knew instantly who it was.
The limo parked easily into the underground garage. The men knew they had about a minute before Salvatore emerged from below. They composed themselves, about to be in the presence of the Don. Toni finished his drink and returned the glass to the table. Joey just sat his to one side. Joey actually straightened up, before stopping short. He was in dungarees for Christ's sake!
Steps started to sound from the hallway. He was coming. All three men rose in anticipation, and the doors swung open.
Salvatore Leone stood there. Five-foot-ten, fifteen stone and with rapidly graying hair, he still radiated the power of a kingpin. A native Sicilian, the only one in the room, he was at once instantly humble and instantly proud. He seemed to be another genial old man but now and then he slipped into fits of pure menace. He'd been head of the family for twenty years, and it was his life. He would sacrifice anyone and anything to protect it. In fact, he had, only a few days ago.
And unbeknown to him now, it would be his downfall.
"Hello boys!" He seemed as loud and spirited as ever. Although almost seventy, Salvatore still retained his coarse but sharp sense of humor. He didn't seem at all bothered by what the meeting was about. The other men groaned inwardly. They would hate breaking the news to him.
"What's the matter?"
Joey decided to get straight to the point.
"Pop, Fido's back in Portland."
For a second the Don seemed to freeze, his face a mask of shock. Then it was over. He walked briskly into the room and sat behind his desk. He regally beckoned the men closer, and they took the seats in front of the desk. Once they were settled he cleared his throat and spoke clearly, forcefully.
"Tell me what you have?"
After a brief exchange of looks Luigi spoke first. He had after all been the one who'd first stumbled across the information.
"I got a call at the Club last night from a connected guy I know. He was doing a job last night, early morning heist, but as he got back in the Red Light he saw a man getting out of a Stinger not far from the Club. He saw him for a full ten seconds he says. He knew the guy on sight. He swears it was Fido."
Toni took over without objection from Joey.
"Joey called me and I checked with out contacts in Staunton, where we had him last. They say he's disappeared. That's when we called you. We need you to let us protect you."
Salvatore had listened without comment or incident so far, but the last comment made him frown, and his eyes erupted into raging life.
"I will not hide from that fuck. NEVER!"
The sheer ferocity of the last word struck all present silent. For a second his three underlings avoided his gaze. They knew how furious the Don had been after his lover Maria told him her and Fido were "fucking like crazy", as she put it. It had been one of the reason's he given up Fido, hitherto his most trusted assassin. And now his mistake was coming back to haunt him, and all he wanted to do was ignore it. Toni tried to get through to him.
"Sal, this guy's as tough as they come, you know this. He's incredible, a real .50 caliber killer. Your security right now won't even faze him. Please let us up things just unt-"
With a sudden, violent move Sal stood up, towering over his men. Toni shut the fuck up. Sal glared coldly at his underboss, glared right into his soul.
"No."
And with that he was gone, walking as quickly out the door as he'd arrived. His three most trusted men slumped in their seats, dejected and defeated. They realized that now they were in for a nightmare. Jesus, how could they protect the Don if he wouldn't let them?
Toni sprang into action as soon as the Don left. He knew he had to overcome this, for the good of the family.
"OK, OK, listen to me fellas. Much as I hate to say this, we gonna have to go against Sal's orders."
Joey and Luigi shifted in their seats but before they could speak:
"Joey, from now on the Don travels in a convoy. Three cars, two escorts one transport. Use those bulletproof cars you've got at the garage. And from now on when he isn't in the Club, he wears Kevlar. And get some more guys down here; this place should be a fortress. He's going to Sex Club tonight and I want him protected all the way there and back."
Joey stood up and shook Toni's hand.
"I better go now. I want to get this done."
Toni nodded and bid him goodbye. The sloppily dressed gangster hustled fast out of there and to his car. Now it was only Luigi and Toni.
"And me Toni?"
"Get the word to every snitch and hood we know, everyone. Tell them they deliver us information about where Fido is they get fifty grand in cash. They deliver his head, it's a hundred. And tell them the offer expires in a week. That'll motivate 'em, and give the bastard no place to hide."
Joey nodded and slowly stood up. He was obviously not as worried as Toni or Joey. It was almost eerie, but he was still a wiseguy first.
"Yes boss. I'll get it done."
Toni watched him leave, knowing why he was so calm. He knew that Fido worked for him first, and Luigi had been his friend. He'd also been one of the men to betray him. Perhaps he was resigned to his fate, thought Toni. Suddenly the little pimp turned round, curious.
"What are you going to do?"
Toni stiffened, but almost winced as well.
"I'm going to tell Sal about everything we just said, and I'm going to convince him it's the right thing to do."
Luigi stopped and stared at Toni in wonder. He was almost overawed. But he still cracked a sad little smile.
"Good luck."
"Thanks."
And then Toni was alone. He poured himself a swift brandy and chugged it down. He would need the booze to calm his nerves. He walked towards Sal's room, steeling himself for one hell of an argument but one he had to win.
Because otherwise, his boss was dead.
Chapter Two: Celebration Party
In the dingy Red Light District apartment, Fido prepared himself. In the dank of the room, lit only partially by an open window, his hands moved swiftly over the parts laid out on the spotless white towel on his coffee table. His dead eyes barely concentrated monotonously on them as his hands started to assemble the object. Slowly something emerged from the jumble, a shape… a weapon?
From the side of the sofa he pulled a stock and a long metal barrel and snapped them onto the now-visible gun. He held it at arms length for a few seconds, an artist appraising his work with a critical eye.
An M40A1 bolt-action sniper rifle stared back at him.
He placed it back on the table and wrapped it in the towel. Next to the bundle he placed a small plastic bag of bullets. The tips were fire-red. Armor-piercing rounds. Fido wasn't taking any chances. He'd tried and tested the rounds and the gun earlier that week; he knew it was a sound weapon. Besides, with the security around the Don, he knew he'd only have time for one shot. But what a shot it would be…
For four days he'd waited to get back onto Portland, to settle his score. Now it had been handed to him on a platter, the perfect target at the perfect place.
Salvatore. Sex Club Seven. 19:30.
All arranged and financed by his new boss, Asuka Kassen, leader of the Liberty City Yakuza. Fido hadn't known a lot about them before a frantic introduction at Portland docks between him, Maria and Asuka. From what he now knew they were ruthless, traditionalist and anti-Cartel. Basically to Fido they were the Oriental Leone's, but they wanted Salvatore dead.
And he would do that for them. To cement their new partnership, and to earn his fee, he would do it.
And for the first time in a long time, he would also do it for him.
Sex Club Seven was operating a full capacity. The club was, to use the phrase of the time, jumpin'. It was packed with customers fawning over strippers, chugging down drinks and waving bills around. The air was filled with catcalls and music, so loud you could hardly hear a thing, but business prospered. Then again, this was Sex Club Seven. Business always prospered.
From above it all Luigi Goterilli watched his empire carefully. One wall of his office was one-way glass: spotless, beautiful, indispensable. From there, often sitting down with a drink, Luigi could monitor his club without a problem. Nothing escaped his notice, even now. During the party.
Behind him in the spacious office Salvatore and Joey were being "entertained" by two eligible and experienced young ladies. Neither was over twenty, but it was almost irrelevant. As Luigi always said, "Pussy's pussy".
Salvatore was enjoying himself, despite the new security measures he'd taken for Toni. He'd raged and fumed but eventually saw sense, or so he saw it. Toni didn't override him… he just realized he'd been mistaken is all. But now he was in the arms of Denise (or was it Susan? Fuck, what did it matter!) and her hands were wandering in places he really wanted them...
Next to him Joey was struggling to loosen up. He had a steady girlfriend for one and having one of Luigi's hookers paw him wasn't too appealing. He was more concerned about leaving the club. For a few seconds Salvatore would be in the open, vulnerable. Anything could happen with the right killer.
And Fido was a perfect choice.
"We almost ready to go Pop?"
Salvatore was cruelly torn from his young beloved.
"Already? It's seven thirty! Jesus Joey lighten up a little just because you can't find a decent woman doesn't m-"
"OK, OK Pop! I get the idea. A little longer then…"
And Salvatore returned to Denise. Susan returned to Joey, and the younger gangster fumed silently. When would this night end?
Across the street, hidden behind a dog food billboard, Fido waited. He was in the perfect position. The sun had set behind the tall buildings of Staunton Island and wouldn't be glaring into his sight. The crowds were thinning down below on the streets in front of Sex Club. Less chance for an innocent bystander to catch a bullet. But Fido was unconcerned with that possibility. He wasn't going to miss.
He couldn't afford to.
For the last thirty minutes he'd been waiting patiently. He was to receive a phone call saying when Salvatore would be leaving, and then he'd just wait for him to emerge and set up his shot. Easy. Except his guy was late.
Fido's face was impassive but he checked his watch for the second time in a minute. A thousand thoughts faced through his head. What if he was too late? What if it was the wrong night? What if it was a set up? What if…?
He ignored the thought, focused entirely on his mission. As if on command, an answer to his prayers, the phone burst into noisy life. He checked the display and a cold, predatory smile appeared on his face.
The contact.
In the rambunctious Sex Club Salvatore and Joey began to head out. They were surrounded by a phalanx of bulky Leone soldiers who parted the baying crowds like Moses in the Red Sea, clearing a safe path to the back of the club. That was where the Don would emerge, safe from the streets, and get into his convoy for the safety of the newly impregnable Gentleman's Club.
Five minutes away Toni Cipriani rode in the lead limousine of the Leone convoy. There were three cars, just as he'd ordered. The front and rear cars had four guys each: three with shotguns and assault rifles, the drivers packing Uzi's. In the middle limo the driver was the best wheelman the Family had. Toni himself cradled a cut-down AK in his lap.
All the cars were running perfectly and could withstand being him by anything short of a Stinger missile. And still, Toni was nervous.
He knew Fido. He knew his methods and his wiles and knew that the ace killer had faced worse odds and come out clean. He'd sent him on so many suicide missions and he'd always returned. He seemed beyond Death, beyond Judgement. That was when the Leone's started to fear him…
Toni snapped his mind out of his wanderings and returned to reality. The motorcade was suddenly outside Sex Club, the cars packing the sidewalk and the bodyguards already fanning out. Two men from each of the escort cars leapt to either side of the alley from the back of the club, eyes watchful. They saw nothing… and one nodded to Toni.
Toni, still in the lead car, got in his walkie-talkie to Joey.
"OK, send him out, over."
At the back of the club Joey received the message.
"Bringing him out now, get ready to move, over and out."
And with that he, Salvatore and the half-dozen guards around them walked into the dank alley behind Sex Club Seven. All of them were edgy and armed; a screaming cat in the distance had them all one edge, apart from the still-aroused Salvatore. Joey just walked in silence, praying it was all clear.
High above them all, Fido brought the sight of the M40 to his eye, aiming at the alley exit. Time to die Salvatore…
Salvatore walks into the street, surrounded by his men. His face wears a jolly smile, the benevolent crime king of Portland. Fido sees every crease of his face in the sight, and his smile widens a tiny bit. He aims straight for Salvatore's traitorous heart. His finger starts to close on the trigger…
Down below Toni waits impatiently for the Don to get to his car. Everyone who passes them gets an evil eye from him. Anyone could be a threat, anyone! He mutters almost feverishly under his breath.
"Just hurry the fuck up Sal, c'mon!"
Packed in by the guards and passerbies, Joey feels helpless. He can't get to his gun or his father, and they were too exposed. Suddenly his eye is caught by something across the street, but then its gone. Wait a minute was-
CRACK!
Chapter Three: Succession
Of course it had been all over the papers. The victim, the venue, the method of assassination, the background to it, it was newspaper gold. By the morning all the dailies on Portland had their front pages sorted out:
REPUTED MAFIA DON SLAIN IN RED LIGHT DISTRICT
SALVATORE LEONE KILLED BY SNIPERS BULLET
GANGLAND WAR INTENSIFIES WITH MOB BOSS'S DEATH
In the Gentleman's Club, dark now in the night a day after the event, Toni Cipriani soberly read the front page of the Liberty Tree. He seemed to read it for much longer than he needed to, and suddenly he threw it away from him, out the window and onto the beach far below. He buried his head in his beefy hands, and tried to block reality out. But he couldn't.
The Don was dead. Salvatore was dead.
He could barely believe it had happened. Suddenly he was back there, at the moment the bullet hit. Joey about to shout something to him. Salvatore smiling, laughing, not a care. The bodyguards making it all seem so secure.
Then Salvatore's chest explodes and he wakes up back in the Club.
Toni knew that Fido had executed his boss. He also knew the LCPD or his own people would find no evidence whatsoever he'd been on that roof in the Red Light. He was far too good for that. From what he'd heard from his sources he was back on Staunton, vendetta over and working for the Yakuza. Toni was almost relieved; one less problem to deal with.
He knew he would deal with Fido, but not now. Not in the aftermath of the unthinkable, not yet. He had to take care of the family, steer it through this mess. The Leone's rivals- the Triads, the Cartel, even the Diablos- would jump at this chance to strike the family while it was leaderless. Toni's jaw set in determination. He would not let that happen.
He snatched up the phone and rang a number. He waited as it rang, and a bleary, drunken voice answered. It was Joey.
"Yeah, wadaya want!"
Toni was apprehensive. He wouldn't talk Family business with a drunk. But he had to try to get through here.
"Joey? Joey that you? It's Toni."
As he'd hoped Joey instantly sobered up. With only a hint of a slur he cleared his throat and spoke into the phone, not around it.
"Hey Toni. How you holding up?"
Toni sighed but said nothing on his mind. He couldn't risk that.
"Oh, shitty Joey. I'm very sorry."
"You said so before Tone, I appreciate it."
Both could feel the loss in each man's voice. They'd both lost a father that night, Joey by blood and Cipriani by… well, blood, just not his. They would never get over their loss, and they knew it.
"So what did you want?"
"I need to talk to you and Luigi urgently. It's about who's the next boss."
Joey seemed almost confused.
"What's to talk about? It's me Tone."
Toni's breath skipped a beat, and Joey noticed, even in his drunken state. He could have sworn over the phone at the man who technically was his superior. Sneaky fucking bastard…
"Toni? You there? You w-"
"Joey, as underboss I'm next in line for boss. I have more experience than you at running the Family an-"
Joey exploded at this, grief and anger spilling over the phone. His drunken mind understood that this man was threatening his legacy, his birthright!
"THE Family? THE fucking Family Toni! It's MY FUCKING FAMILY! I've bled and fought as hard as you for my place in it and I'm the Don's son, which means I-"
"Fuck you Joey, I was in this life before you were even born! I got the underboss position and-"
"FUCK YOU TONI!"
The line was suddenly dead. Toni could still feel the heat and anger both men had expressed. He couldn't believe it. Salvatore's barely been dead a day and already they're fighting over his scraps. Jesus… had it got so bad?
He tried to ignore these harsh thoughts and turned back to the phone. In light of his past conversation, he had a few more phone calls to make…
The pounding dance music of Sex Club Seven could scarcely be heard in the back room. This was where family business was discussed, far away from prying eyes and ears. The room was swept every day for bugs and was the only totally safe place in Portland as far as Toni was concerned. Which was why he'd ordered the meet there.
He sat on a packing crate waiting for the other two meeting members, smoking a cigarette. He'd tried to quit a while back but it was no good, and now wasn't the time. He needed relief, and fast.
The door creaked open and his head jerked up expectantly. Luigi walked through, the massive bulk of Mickey, his personal bodyguard, looming behind him. He made a gesture with one hand and Mickey made himself scarce, but Luigi walked inside and closed the door. His face was dead serious and a little haggard.
All day the police had quizzed him about Salvatore, and for one time at least he really didn't know anything. No he didn't know who the shooter was. No he didn't know where he was firing. No officer, no no no and can you please get the fuck out my club? The last thing he needed right now was a civil war.
"So what's this about Toni?"
"We need to make Joey see sense. He wants to be the next Don. He can't, he isn't old or experienced enough. I'll take the job until he can."
Joey assimilated all this, knowing fully well what Cipriani meant. Toni loved Joey like a son, they were very close, but he loved the Family more. Being boss was a dream for him, and no one would stand in his way. No Luigi, not Joey, no one. And that made him very dangerous.
"When's he coming?"
"Soon, I hope. He said he was on the-"
Suddenly the door opens, and in steps Joey Leone. Incredibly out of dungarees he's thrown on a suit and tie and looks almost respectable. But he's obviously in a foul mood. He looks like he hasn't slept and has been drinking. Toni could even see little flakes of white around his nose. Ah, Jesus kid…
"Joey. Good of you to come."
"It's Family business Tone, and this is still my Family."
Toni winced. Confrontation right off the bat. This isn't what he wants… but it seems inevitable now. He takes a shallow breath and exhales. This isn't going to be easy, not at all.
"Joey, I want you to step down and let me be boss. I know you were Salvatore's son but right now you just aren't ready for-"
"Fuck you Toni, give me what's mine."
The sheer balls of it made Toni's heart pound. No-one living had ever talked to him like that, save the Don (God rest his soul), and that was only once, and with strong justification. Any other time he would have handed Joey his lower jaw. But now, struggling with himself, he spoke again, iron creeping into his voice.
"This Family is as much mine as yours. Salvatore wanted me to take over because he made me underboss, so why don't you honor-"
Joey took a step closer to Toni and waved an accusing finger in his face. His words were soaked with cold fury.
"Don't you talk to me about honor and my father Toni, you'd choke on-"
WHAM! Toni's hand shot out and belted Joey round the mouth, a half-speed open fist to knock some sense into the kid. No one questioned Toni Ciprinai's honor, not anyone. As Joey reeled back Luigi darted forward and restrained him, just as he started to surge forward at Toni. The sturdy little hood did a good job of holding back his bigger friend as Toni stood there, shocked but not really surprised at what he'd done.
Finally Joey stopped struggling and pushed Luigi off him, backing towards the door. He locked eyes with Toni and pointed once more, blood just creeping onto his lips from where he'd been slapped.
"Stand down Toni, or you'll have a war. I'll give you a day."
With that he was gone, angrily slamming the door behind him. Luigi and Toni stood in the dank backroom in silence. They knew how serious this was now. Civil war, blood on the streets, and only one man could survive. Luigi silently left a few moments later. He wanted to get away from this and just run his club. Was that really too much to ask? Toni stood there for another ten minutes; shoulders slumped like he'd been pole axed. He now knew what he had to do.
For his family, and for himself, he would kill Joey Leone.
Chapter Four: Old-fashioned War
Inside Momma's Restorante Toni brooded over the day's paper. He had mixed feelings towards it. The headline was bold and sensationalist, the norm for Liberty City papers:
DRUG WAR ERUPTS IN STAUNTON ISLAND
Toni read how the Yakuza had gone to war with the Uptown Yardies and their Colombian Cartel partners. The two gangs had been pushing SPANK across the island and were threatening the power of Staunton's current overlords, the Yakuza. Already heavy blows had been struck: a Cartel crew had been wiped out at the Hospital and one of the Yakuza's oyabuns, Kenji Kassen, had been assassinated by the Cartel. Toni sighed. It was going to be a long war.
He was happy that there was nothing about the Leone's. No news was always good news as far as he was concerned. He was also glad the Cartel was for now distracted by the Staunton war. At least they would ease up their pressure on the Family for a while, giving the Family time to…
To what? Repair? Grow strong again? Toni wished he could believe that, but he couldn't. He wasn't a kid anymore.
It had been three days since Joey had delivered his ultimatum. In response Toni gathered his loyal followers together and told them that the Family was at war: him against Joey. He told his men that he was entitled to the boss position, and most agreed. Then again, most of Joey's men had also agreed with his claim. There had always been a little bad blood between the two factions but now… now it would get real.
Yesterday morning one of Toni's men was shot dead as he left his house. Two bullets behind the ear, Leone-style. Ten minutes afterwards one of Joey's men called Toni's crew's hangout and said that Joey had been behind the hit, and Toni would stand down or he'd kill a man a day until he did.
Later that night the shooter was found hanging from a lamppost with his severed dick stuck in his mouth. Toni had delivered his reply, and now there was no going back.
At least, he thought, he doesn't have to worry about Fido. According to the paper he was running wild on Staunton, executing Yakuza contracts all over the island and almost single-handedly turning the war in their favor. Toni supposed he should be grateful for that.
But he wasn't.
His crew had been on high alert for days. They were going round in groups, all packing and all twitchy. They knew Joey had some very competent shooters on his team and they could come from any angle. Already he was getting daily phone calls about clashes and shootings across Saint Marks and Trenton. Some guy shot at some guy, and he shot back. One guy got hit. Just basic, old-fashioned gang war stuff, which Toni was used to, he'd survived many, but not like this. Not his own people, his own Family…
Toni got up and made a beeline for the door, snatching up he cell phone as he went. He had business to attend to. Hard as it was now he knew success rested on finances; he who had the most won the war, that and the most connections. Maybe on the way he'd stumble across the way to deal with Joey… maybe.
He got out the door where his two bodyguards waited at a table. They arose in unison and stood either side of the door, waiting for their boss. He trusted both implicitly, and knew they would die for him. He nodded at them.
"OK, lets go guys."
As one the three men moved outside into the street, when suddenly Cipriani paused, brow knitted at something. Oh yeah…
"Just wait a minute guys I forgot something."
As he turned back into the restaurant a blacked-out Sentinel cruised round the corner. His back was to it so he didn't see what happened next, but he heard it well enough.
The two men in the back seat and passenger seat of the car stuck their AK's out the windows and without hesitation opened fire on Toni, his men and the doorway. In an instant sixty 7.62mm slugs were spraying the patio, blanketing it in lead death.
Acting on sheer instinct Toni threw his big body to the left, crashing behind the wall and a couple of tables. He lay flat as he could as the machinegun rounds punched straight through the soft walls of the restaurant. And his men.
Both bodyguards were caught dead in the assassin's field of fire. They must have realized they were dead men, but went for their pistols anyway. Both died with guns in hand, the vicious stream of gunfire shredding both within seconds. They collapsed to the ground in bloody, ruined heaps, their last thoughts probably of satisfaction that they'd done their job and protected Don Cipriani.
Inside Toni was furious. All fear and self-preservation gone in a flash of rage he leapt up the same time the assassin's guns clicked empty and the Sentinel rapidly speeded up down the hill towards Trenton. He pulled out his own pistol and loosed off a full magazine at the speeding car. He smiled in grim satisfaction as his fire blew out the rear window. He looked down at his men, knowing how loyal they'd been…. and then he walked back inside.
A change had come over him in those few seconds. Gone was the doubt and fear for the future. Now it was the Toni of old, furious and raging at his enemies. His portly, tough mother emerged and started screaming Sicilian oaths at the bastardo's who'd ruined her business. He ignored her fury, eyes fixed on his office.
"Get back inside the kitchen Ma! NOW"
The little lady complied, grumbling, and they both disappeared into their respective domains. In his office Toni sat quickly down and started to feverishly dial a number. It was his Ace in the Hole, a cunning if desperate trick he'd hoped he wouldn't have to use.
And now he had no choice.
At Sex Club Seven Luigi was about ready to leave. He'd just heard about the Restorante shooting and was stunned by Joey's nerve, and perhaps his stupidity. Never before had a family member hosed down a peaceful place of business with assault rifles to kill one man, no matter how ruthless or ambitious they were. That was the specialty of the Colombians and Jamaicans, those wild savages whom the Leone's refused to do business with.
"Jesus, what the fuck's happening to us?"
He had it all figured out. He'd leave the club manager in control for a few months while he spent a quiet vacation to Vice City. Now that Tommy Vercetti was running it VC was a fairly peaceful place, by virtue of the fact Vercetti had simply wiped out most opposing gangs. Yep, down south would be a nice place to survive the heat for a few months. And when Toni or Joey died and one or the other became Don, he would return and peaceably take over where he'd left off. Perfect.
But still, as he headed out the front door of the Club, cash-filled briefcase in hand, he was uneasy. He was running away. All his life Luigi had fought, with fists, bats, knives, guns and worse, but he'd always fought. Now he was running, and he knew exactly why. If he stayed, he knew he'd have to join a side, and if he did that… he'd have to start killing his closest friends.
And Luigi wasn't ready for that shit yet.
Mickey followed him as they walked into the street, hand on the Colt in his shoulder holster. His eyes scanned the street but it was all clear. Luigi didn't think Joey would come after him yet but you never know. All he had to do was wait for his car to arrive. He checked his watch. Any second now.
Just then a blacked-out Sentinel rolled around the corner at a leisurely pace. Luigi and Mike noticed it at once and moved to the side of the road, waiting for it to stop. But the car kept going, even building up speed slightly. Luigi frowned suddenly.
Why were the side windows open?
Neither he nor Mike had any idea what was about to happen, but by the time the AK's were done, it didn't matter.
Chapter Five: Judas
"… and the top story in Portland this morning, the underworld is still reeling after two savage drive-by shootings in Saint Marks and the Red Light District. Four men, all reputed members of the Leone crime family, including notorious capo Luigi Goterilli, were gunned down and killed in two separate attacks. The attacks were thought to have been orchestrated by Joey Leone, son of deceased Godfather Salvatore Leone and heir to the Leone Fam-"
With a bitter little laugh Joey flicked the radio off. He was laying on his back in his Trenton garage, working feverishly on one of his "babies", his custom cars. Despite the blood coating the streets he still spent much of his time here, among the only friends he thought he had.
He wasn't really vulnerable here. There were two men in a car parked outside the garage, both armed and accurate. Another three were on standby in the opposite warehouse, all three taking shifts on the roof to scout for incoming threats. And in the garage himself three of Joey's most trusted men were in the reception area whenever he was there. There was only one way onto the garage floor, now Joey had bricked up the fire exit for added security, and they guarded it with their lives. Joey felt secure.
He whistled happily as he turned the wrench under the car. Any remorse he'd felt over Luigi was long gone. Now he was simply happy that his crew was striking back at the fat fuck Toni. Soon similar attacks would get closer and closer to him, eat away his territory and power. He got lucky at the restaurant (too bad his bodyguards hadn't) but next time…
Joey smiled in anticipation. Next time you fat bastard.
He was happy that the radio guys got it right: he was "the heir" to the Leone empire, no fucking mistake. The mere thought of Toni Cipriani snaking it from him just because he was underboss made his blood boil even now. It was his name, and his family, and to retain it he shake hands with Satan himself.
He was jerked out of his revenge fantasy by approaching footsteps. He rolled out from under the car and looked up into the face of Vinny, one of his closest men. Vinny was actually a cousin of Joey, a chief reason he was on permanent guard around him. He smiled a little sadly down at Joey.
"Hey Joe."
Joey was perplexed. What was the matter? Aside from the war of course what could be… Jesus, Vinny seemed almost ready to cry.
"Jesus Vin, what's the matter?"
He saw it coming. He saw Vinny pull the silenced Colt .45 from the back of his pants, saw his tortured face as he cocked it and leveled the weapon at his cousins torso. He saw it right to the moment that Vinny pulled the trigger.
But try as he did, he couldn't believe it.
"Vinn-"
PHUT-PHUT! Ignoring him Vinny pumped two hollow-point rounds into Joey's stomach. The impact of the bullets blew the scruffy capo against his prized car, knocking the wind out of his as he impacted against the chassis. Taking a step forward Vinny fired twice more, higher this time. The dumdums blew out Joey's throat and sternum, obliterating what life there was left in him.
Finally the tearful Vinny put two more careful rounds through his cousin's heart. It was hardly necessary but it had to be done. Vinny wanted the job over but didn't want to shoot his cousin in the face. He would leave him with that.
He waited a few seconds out of respect for his dead boss. He took a breath, held it, sobbingly exhaled. Joey…
Suddenly he turned on his heel and walked briskly towards reception. He tucked the gun back down his pants and opened the door. He strolled past the two other men dead on the floor, each with a bullet in his head. Vinny didn't even look at them. They weren't family… well, they were but not in the way that really mattered.
He stepped into a chill late summer breeze and headed for his car. The two guards in the car across the street nodded at him. He nodded coolly back. They had no idea; he'd used the silencer. Then he clambered into his car and drove, leaving his cousins body to stiffen in his beloved garage. But he knew this betrayal would never be left behind so easily…
Toni sat in his office working on some paperwork. It was the part of the boss job he really hated, paperwork. He hated that everything needed a nice neat paper trail, all above board. Jeez, a guy couldn't have a few little secrets anymore.
But in the back of his mind he was waiting, waiting for a call.
RING! He snatched up the phone in an instant, and then paused. Jesus he really was wound tight. He had to calm down. He took a breath and put the receiver to his ear, voice low and measured.
"Yeah, its me."
"It's me, at Trenton?"
Toni was suddenly alert. This was the guy.
"Is it done?"
A short pause from the other end, but a firm enough answer:
"Yes. He's gone."
Toni exhaled and all the frustration, doubt, pain and anger of the last week seemed to leave his body with the dead air. He bowed his head a little, thankful. It's over, finally its over.
"I'm sorry, I know you were close."
At a Chinatown payphone Vinny was speaking in hushed tones into the phone. The area was bustling as usual, but the Triad gangs that hung around were noticeably absent. Vinny knew why; most were either dead, in jail or had fled the city after the Leone-Triad War. But despite the noise he still heard every word Toni said.
"Thanks. I appreciate it."
And he really did. Toni knew Vinny and Joey were close, but he also knew Vinny wasn't willing to throw his life away because of Joey's arrogance. Much as he hated to turn him on his own blood… well, it had to be done.
"You'll be well taken care of after this. You have my word."
Vinny brightened a little bit from hearing that. He though past Joey's corpse, to his own future. Now he was in with Don Cipriani, he was on the way. The thought kept him warm on the cold Chinatown street.
"Thanks Toni. I knew I could trust you."
Now Toni had to finish off the plan. He cleared his throat and spoke in concerned voice, hushed tones.
"Kid, I know this is hard now but you got to listen. Some of Joey's crew might come after you so wha-"
"Hey you haven't got to worry, I'm gonna lay low down south for a while."
"In any case, kid, we gotta protect you. You know my place in Saint Marks, just outside Hepburn?"
Despite the vagueness of the directions Vinny knew where he was referring. The cab company.
"Yeah, I know it. You want me over there?"
"Fast as you can. We'll protect you for a month or so, let things all blow over, and then you're back."
Vinny actually smiled into the phone. He believed every word, Toni made it seem all so possible.
"That's fine Toni. I'll head there now."
Toni nodded and spoke one last time. His voice had the low edge of a priest talking to a condemned man.
"Thanks kid. See you later."
With that he hung up and called Frankie in. Frank was one of his closest men. They'd grown up together and even been made in the same ceremony. He trusted him like a brother, but today saw him in a different light now, loath as he was to admit it. If Joey's own cousin could turn on him…
His face a mask he looked into Frankie's expectant eyes. They were cold and distant, dead, the eyes of a man who's grown used to killing. That was why Toni valued him so much.
"He'll be at the cab company soon. Do it there and make him disappear."
Frankie nodded once and left, having not said one word. He didn't need to: Toni knew exactly what would happen to Vinny. A bullet in back of the head, dismemberment and dumping in the bay.
Helluva way to go…
Toni sighed again and returned to his work. He hated having to do this to him but he couldn't have rats in his new Family, even one's who'd worked as hard as Vinny had. And he couldn't let the finger fall on him for the murder. This was Joey's dead and the shooter's disappeared, presumed dead. It was messy, but over. But then again he'd wanted that…
Deep in his mind this was revenge. He'd loved Joey like a son, despite his temper and despite his ambitions, and he'd not wanted to kill him until he'd been pushed to far. Now, by killing the man who'd killed Joey… it was the closest he'd get to get even. In his own twisted mind, warped by laws written by criminal's centuries ago, it was acceptable
But that didn't mean he had to like it.
His face blank Toni kept writing, this big man working in a quiet office that'd ended the Leone-Cipriani War and just been unofficially crowned boss of Portland Island. He knew it as well as the public soon would.
But it seemed to mean less to him now…
Chapter Six: Hostile Takeover
Toni rose with the dawn nowadays. Just as the first rays of light peeked over the green farmland far outside the city he clambered out of bed and started to get dressed. As he did he checked his watch.
5:54AM. "Jesus I gotta turn in earlier."
But even as he shaved and brushed his teeth he knew that he would have to work later tonight. As boss of Liberty City's largest crime syndicate, he had a lot of business to deal with on a daily basis.
The last month had been incredible, for the city and the Family. The whole face of the underworld had changed forever. All the major syndicates apart from the Leone's had been more or less obliterated by the vengeful and obviously psychopathic Fido. The street gangs had been given quite a beating too, and in a rare show of competence the LCPD had jailed most of the Uptown Yardies. All that was left was the Diablos, the Shoreside Hoods and the Leone's.
Cipriani smiled at his reflection in the mirror. Felt good to be number one.
As he walked downstairs he saw the two bodyguards waiting in the hallway for him. He was always protected wherever he went from now on. His contacts said that Fido had fled the city, gone to South America they said, but Toni was taking no chances, not with this guy, not while he was at the top of his game.
And certainly not after a whole crew of his best shooters had been slaughtered trying to kill him, some of them not even getting a shot off at their target. After that massacre, Toni had shrewdly decided that revenge could wait
He decided to skip breakfast. He was due to meet with his capos today, and he didn't want to keep them waiting.
"Lets go."
His men were in action instantly. One stood behind him, another in front, even before they left the house. As they walked into the morning sun of the suburban neighborhood, they checked the streets, the alleys, the cars, anywhere a threat could come from. These were professionals, not just press-ganged wiseguys. Toni always felt secure around them.
The three of them walked briskly to his gleaming bulletproof Sentinel. The bodyguards got into the front seats but not before opening the back door for Toni.
"Mr Cipriani…"
"Thanks Alex."
Toni felt a crunch as he sat down. Curious he dug his hand under his ass and pulled out a dented but still intact envelope. As the Sentinel started up and moved out of the houses driveway, he opened it, brow furrowing. What the Hell?
He pulled out a simple greeting card. A bear with a balloon. Tony shook his head. Maybe he was still dreaming.
He opened the card and read the small, precise black letters. Slowly, his mouth dropped as he did so.
Toni,
Thanks for keeping the Family together for me. Now it will be
much easier. Say hello to Salvatore from me.
-Fido
For five crucial seconds Toni was speechless. Everything over the past months seemed to click together like some horrible jigsaw. Fido's sudden appearance, his jobs, the massive gang war, his victory in the war against Joey… all part of some master plan…
But who's?
Finally he reacted, wild eyes turning to Alex who was driving.
"Alex get the f-"
He managed to get the first letter of "fuck" out before two pounds of C4 detonated under his seat. A vast explosion sent an orange and red mushroom cloud shooting into the air, and completely destroyed the car, the Don and his two professionals. Wreckage blasted around the street and the shock wave shattered out the windows in surrounding houses. All three men in the doomed car were obliterated within split seconds, their bodies almost vaporized by the fury of the explosion. And the car? Two axles and four rubbers stains on the road.
Cruising slowly behind them, a Stallion cantered past the wreck and kept going. It never even slowed down. The driver looked back into the rear view mirror. It was done. He pocketed the radio detonator in his hand and pulled some dark shades on for the drive ahead.
If anyone had been on the streets, they would have caught his face, but probably wouldn't have recognized it.
But they would if they worked for the LCPD or the Family.
It was Fido.
Fido eased his Stallion into the garage under his apartment block on Staunton Island. Caught in the No-Man's Land between Yakuza and Yardie turf, the neighborhood used to be one of the most violent in the city. Now, after both sides more or less eradicated each other, and the police finished off what the hoods had missed, it was pretty safe for Liberty City.
He stepped into the elevator and rode up in silence. He hardly ever spoke anyway, even to his family, but had a feeling that was about to change. He'd done everything he had to, and now he was going to collect.
"I hope he's arrived."
He was stunned to hear the question burst from his lips. Talking to yourself, Claude? What's next, Dateline?
He shrugged the idea from his head as the elevator pinged at his floor. He stepped out into the hallway and headed for his apartment, checking both ways out as a matter of course. Most of his enemies were dead, but only most of them, not all. And he could not afford to take chances.
He got to his door and methodically opened all five locks. Once he'd done that he locked them behind him, slamming home the heavy steel doorjamb as an afterthought. He nodded in satisfaction. Safe as houses… sort of.
"You're late Claude."
Fido spun round and unholstered his pistol in one smooth movement. Shifting instantly to police firing stance he leveled his forty-five at the voice. It was coming from a tall, well-dressed man just in the shadows of his apartment. Without being asked the figure stepped into the light.
Fido lowered his gun as he and Tommy Vercetti locked eyes.
"Well I'm here now, big brother."
After a moments pause, filled with bitter memories and incidents long in the past they both wanted to forget, the Vercetti brothers moved closer to one another and embraced in a tight bear hug. They held it for a good ten seconds, ending when Tommy planted a kiss on his younger brothers cheek.
"I knew you'd come through."
"Yeah right, I was expendable."
Tommy seemed genuinely hurt by this, unusual for a man who'd killed more people in a year- 1986 to be precise- than Fido had during his whole life.
"Family is never expandable Joey, especially between brothers. Jesus, if all the worlds crews were as tight as brothers we'd run this fucking planet."
Fido knew his brother was right (as always) but he decided to play his little game. They had little else to do for now. He cracked a wry smile.
"What about the Family I just betrayed? That you betrayed years ago?"
Tommy's face seemed to harden for a second, but soon it was gone, replaced by simply honesty. He had nothing to hide.
"That wasn't your family, that was a crew you ran with. It wasn't blood. As for me… I loved the Forelli's, I would have done most anything for them, and at Harwood I did. But when those people that I trusted betrayed me, set me up and tried to kill me like I was nothing to them, like all my loyalty and deeds of the past were inconsequential-"
He spread his arms wide then pointed at Joey. He felt a little chill as he did, but kept his smile. His brother had gotten more eloquent over the past decade and a half that was for sure.
"- then they became nothing more to me than problems to be erased. I started in 1986, and you finished it for me this year. For that I've ensured that you will never worry about money again and…"
Tommy paused, as if choked with emotion.
"…and I forgive you for everything in the past… everything."
Claude catches the full significance of the last word. Tommy's referring to that incident, that month in San Andreas almost ten years ago. Both of them had been changed by it, both went their separate ways. They "lost" phone numbers and addresses and stayed out of each other's lives. Until Tommy contacted him a year ago, telling him of his new idea, his grand plan for a "hostile takeover" and how he wanted him back.
Fido agreed. Tommy was right; blood was blood.
"Thanks Tommy. Its good to hear that."
"Don't mention it kid, this wouldn't have happened without you." He smiled with fraternal pride at his little bro, "you really leveled the field for me."
Fido nodded slowly; a little pleased with the devastation he'd wreaked these past weeks. Shit, everyone had to have one special talent.
"I hope so. The Vercetti Family can move up here whenever it wants now. All the syndicates and families are gone. Still, there are the Hoods and Diablos-"
Tommy waves a dismissive hand. Street gangs, pah!
"They're nothing. The VC Haitians could take them in a weekend and I wiped them out long ago. They'll either work for us or we'll crush 'em. But all the syndicates are dead, and the rackets are wide open."
Tommy sits next to his brother, his eyes glazing over with anticipation.
"Vice is always good for the flashy buck but if you want class, tradition, the place where the rackets come from… you gotta take Liberty. And thanks to you Joe, it'll be like talking candy from a particularly gang-free baby."
The two men chuckle at Tommy's low humor. Well he wasn't Bill Hicks but he'd always made Claude laugh, even as kids.
"I suppose you'll need me for the takeover."
Vercetti shakes his head, happy his brother can now take a step back from the life, at least for now. He did worry about the kid sometimes.
"No, no you're free to do whatever you want." He gestures to thin envelope on the table. "In there's the details of a bank account in the Caymans with six million in it. It's yours, all safe and untraceable. I want you, little brother, to take a nice long vacation from Liberty, America even. Just… relax, ya know?"
For a split second Claude thought Tommy was forcing him to leave, but the feeling passed. Tommy wouldn't do that now, not after all he'd done. This was his way of welcoming his brother back to the fold, and for that he was grateful.
And either way, six millions bucks!
"Thanks Tommy, I think I will. Maybe I'll go back to Italy for a while. They say Naples is great this time of year."
Tommy nods in approval, remembering the short holidays the young brothers had had with their family in Italy, the little Neapolitan village their father had left when he was barely eighteen. A good choice for a vacation.
"Sounds good. Be great to get back to the old country."
Fido turns with sudden urgency to his brother, his face earnest.
"But if you need me for anything back there, anything at a-"
Tommy grips him firmer on the shoulder, reassuring him.
"Hey, don't worry about it. Stop thinking about it, period! From now on I'll handle this city. C'mon I took Vice in six months, you think this place will be a huge challenge? Besides, there's no-one to stop me!"
Fido shrugged. This was true, there wasn't. He'd seen to that.
"OK, OK, I'll lay off it."
Suddenly the still-smiling Tommy rose from his seat and stood over Joe. His mood had brightened, and Claude almost saw the old avuncular Tommy he'd known so long ago back in the old neighborhood.
"So what now Tom?"
"I feel like a meal. What's good to eat around here?"
Claude smiled widely. Dinner with his big bro. Cool… well, it was progress at least.
"There's a Jap place near here. Great sushi."
"I was thinking more along the lines of pasta but I'm flexible."
Laughing the two men stepped out the apartment, Claude locking the door as methodically as before while Tommy waited. As he did he looked out the hallways huge window, looking out across the breadth of Liberty City. It was breathtaking.
From here at the peak of the Gardens Tommy could see it all, the docklands and slums of Portland, the gleaming spires and leafy residential areas of Staunton, even the airport on Shoreside. And soon, it would all be his.
"All yours, hey Tommy?"
Claude read his mind as he looked at his brother. Tommy kept smiling. He hated that his brother could read him like that, but he was right. Four, five months max, and he'd be boss of two cities, almost of a whole coast...
"The future looks bright Joe…"
Claude play punches him on the shoulder. His eyes for once have lost their hardness. Perhaps the strain of the past weeks is taking their toll. Perhaps he's just hungry, whatever.
"Let's go eat, Tommy."
With that the two men walk down the hallway and turn the corner… and they're gone.
THE END