Speak Easy, Boys

Summary: It's 1932 and Prohibition is in full swing but getting a drink is as easy as making friends with your neighborhood bootlegger. But bootlegging is a dangerous business run by ruthless mobsters. Taking them down is just as dangerous and sometimes best done from the inside out…

Several other notes:

1. Except for the prologue, the story follows Gibbs, Tony and McGee although many familiar faces will appear. All the named characters are from NCIS episodes and may provide hints to which side of the law they are on. Even a few familiar locations will turn up now and again. I tried to keep the team in character but their paths, both professional and personal, may not mirror the show exactly. With this being AU, I took a few liberties and had some fun. Hopefully you have some fun with it too.

2. I did research the era, but I'm not a historian. Anachronisms may either serve the story purpose or weren't intentional.

3. This is a relatively long one (26 chapters and the prologue) but it is complete so I'll be able to update regularly.

4. Speakeasy: an establishment that illegally sells alcoholic beverages.

From Wikipedia: The term "speakeasy" might have originated in Pennsylvania in 1888, when the Brooks High-License Act raised the state's fee for a saloon license from $50 to $500. The number of licensed bars promptly plummeted, but some bars continued to operate illegally. Kate Hester had run a saloon for years in McKeesport, just outside of Pittsburgh. She refused to pay the new license fee and wanted to keep from drawing attention to her illegal business. When her customers got too rowdy, she would hush them by whispering, "Speak easy, boys! Speak easy!"

Prologue - The Price of Betrayal

March 1932

"You're sure he's telling the truth?"

"I'm sure," the man replied as he absently twirled a bloody knife in his hand.

If he was at all put off at all by the man's demeanor or the bloody knife, he didn't show it. His features hardened. "I can't afford any surprises, Boone. He gave up the location of his records and money he stole from me?"

"He did," Boone replied. "Your boys picked up the last of it. It's all there, Mr. Napolitano."

"Good," the portly man replied harshly as he smoothed his finely cut suit. "Let's get this over with. I have a dinner party to get to."

"Right this way, Mr. Napolitano," Boone said, motioning for the portly man to follow him into the next room.

He glanced around the room. The windows had been boarded up and every available hard surface had been covered with heavy blankets tacked to the walls and a mishmash of carpets covered the wooden floors. Boone had done all that he could to ensure that his activities went undetected. The thought made him shiver.

The only piece of furniture in the room was occupied but the man seated in the hard, wooden chair didn't seem to be fully conscious. He took a moment to examine the small, bloody man. His hands were bound tightly behind his back and his legs were bound to the chair legs. His eyes were closed and his head hung limply, his short black hair was dripping with sweat. He was covered in blood from dozens of tiny cuts that bled through his shirt. His face was bruised and he had a split lip.

Boone walked over to the bound man and started to slap his face.

"Terry," Boone said in a singsong voice. "Terry. Time to wake up, Terry. Mr. Napolitano wants to talk."

Terry slowly began to come around and after a moment he focused on Boone's face. He tried to recoil but he could only move so far before he hit the back of the chair.

"Kyle," Terry said in a raspy voice. "I've told you everything. I swear."

"I believe you," Boone replied as he tapped the knife on Terry's knee. Terry cringed and watched the knife closely. "Mr. Napolitano wants to talk with you."

Terry looked up and finally noticed Napolitano standing near the door. He was already pale to begin with but when Terry saw him in the doorway, what little color he had left drained from his face. "Jimmy," he said.

"Terry," Jimmy said as he approached the man in the chair. "What were you thinking? Did you think I wouldn't notice that you were skimming off the top?"

"Of course not," Terry replied hastily. "Because I wasn't."

"That's not what you told, Mr. Boone," he said.

"I was lying!" Terry replied.

Napolitano looked at Boone. "That seem like a strange thing to lie about to you, Boone?"

"It does," Kyle replied as he began to play with the knife again.

"That's what I thought," Napolitano replied. "Especially when I have all this evidence that shows you skimming off the top. We found the duplicate books you kept and we found the money."

"No harm done then," Terry said but he cut himself off as he realized that he had incriminated himself. He opened his mouth like a landed fish but he couldn't seem to say the words that would refute his admission.

"That's where you are wrong, Terry my boy," Jimmy said as he knelt so he could look the terrified man in the eyes. "No one steals from me and gets away with it. No one. Not even you." Jimmy's eyes were cold and his voice was deadly serious. "You were going to go to the Feds if you got caught, weren't you?"

Terry shook his head despondently. "I wouldn't do that, Jimmy! Why would I do that?"

"Because you thought that they could protect you," Jimmy replied as he leaned down to look Terry in the eye. "You figured that they wouldn't care if you stole a bit of money if you handed me over to them on a silver platter."

"No," Terry objected weakly as he tried to avoid Jimmy's gaze.

"Your problem, Terry, is that I figured it out. You don't think I know how to run my own books? You don't think that I can't add up the numbers and find out you're stealing? No one is clever enough to steal from Jimmy Napolitano and you're going to be my example." He looked at Kyle. "Make sure you drop him some place where he'll be found."

"I know just the place," Kyle said with an evil smile as he hefted the knife once again.

"Good bye, Terry," Jimmy said as he left the room. He paused at the door but did not look back. "I'm sorry it has to end this way," he added, genuinely.

"Jimmy!" Terry cried as he looked from Kyle to the door. "Jimmy!"

Jimmy shut the door just as Terry let out a terrible scream. Alone in the hallway, Jimmy allowed himself a slight shudder. Kyle Boone enjoyed his job far more than any man should. He seemed to live to cause pain just so he could see what it did to people.

While Boone gave him the creeps, he couldn't deny that the man was valuable. His was in a competitive business and sometimes people needed to be dealt with. Kyle Boone was willing and eager to get his hands dirty. It made for a symbiotic partnership.

Composing himself, he returned to the entryway of the house where he had left his son while he dealt with Terry.

"Is it done, Pops?" Ricky asked.

"Of course, it's done," he replied tersely. "Which leaves us with a problem. We need a new accountant."

"You still want Willie Taylor's old man?" Ricky asked.

"Is he the best accountant?" Napolitano asked.

"That's what people are saying," Ricky said. "He pulled Taylor's club out of gutter even with our people putting the screws on it. Gave Taylor the backbone to stand up to us when we tried to acquire his club."

"Hence why we had to take some drastic measures with Taylor," Napolitano replied. Ricky nodded. "If he's the best available, I want him."

"What about Matteson?" Ricky asked. "Wouldn't it be better to promote someone who already works for us?"

"Matteson?" he asked as he tried to put a face to a name. "Dale Matteson? The guy who runs the books on the level businesses?" Ricky nodded. He snorted. "He might know his numbers, but Pale Dale doesn't have the intestinal fortitude for a job like this." Ricky shrugged, unable to argue the point. "Get me Taylor's man."

"I'll have one of our associates check him out and then bring him in for an interview. Should I contact Agent…"

"I've already had him investigated. Do you think I'd ask for him if I hadn't checked into him?" Jimmy asked sharply, cutting his son off. "You can contact Agent Fornell. Have Fornell inform Taylor's numbers man of the employment opportunity and that I'd like to interview him but give it a few days until this unpleasant matter has cooled off a bit. I don't want Fornell to put the pieces together." Ricky looked surprised but nodded.

"I still don't think we can trust him, Pops," Ricky said as he straightened his jacket before they left the house. Boone had selected a dilapidated home in a run-down neighborhood on the outskirts of the city. Here, there were no streetlights and the nearest house was either abandoned or tightly shuttered so that it appeared abandoned. Either way, there was no one to witness the comings and goings from Boone's private office as he called it.

They walked out of the run-down house and down a short path through darkness until they reached a car parked on the street. A large man opened the rear door for them. "He's true blue," Ricky continued. "Fornell is not one that you can just turn with a wad of dough. How do we know he won't screw us over?"

"Because we'll use our other friend from the Bureau to make sure he stays true to us," Jimmy said as he got into the car, followed by Ricky.

"But why use him?" Ricky asked. "We've got plenty of people we trust more than him."

"Because I can," Napolitano retorted. "He knows who has the power and it ain't him. So, if I tell him to go meet Taylor's man, he goes to meet Taylor's man. If I want him to take my suits to the cleaner, he'll take my suits to the cleaner with a smile on his face." Napolitano smoothed his suit. "He knows that he has too much to lose if he turns on us or doesn't do as he's told." He smiled grimly. "His little girl."

"You'd kill a kid?" Ricky asked surprised.

Jimmy smacked his son on the head. "Are you stupid? Of course, I won't hurt the kid. She doesn't have to be hurt to get to Fornell. We just arrange it so she goes missing and if he wants her back, he'll have to cooperate."

"Oh," Ricky said as he rubbed his head ruefully. "I see. How will Fornell know this number cruncher?"

"He won't," Jimmy replied as the large man took his seat in the front. "But we know what he looks like and we know where he'll be. The man is as predictable as he is reliable."

"And how…"

"Is that all you do is ask questions?" Jimmy snapped. "Let's get a move on," Jimmy said to the driver. "We're late." The driver nodded and started the car.

"Well this one is important Pops," he said. When Jimmy didn't cut him off, he asked, "Don't you think that it's risky to let Fornell know who our new accountant is? I mean, if he would ever turn on us, all he'd have to do is turn Gemcity over to his friends at the Bureau and we'd be sunk."

"That is a good question, Ricky," Jimmy nodded appreciatively. "Maybe you've learned something from your old man after all." Ricky smiled at the praise. "We don't tell Fornell that he's our new accountant. We just tell him that he's to contact Willie Taylor's man for a job opportunity. He doesn't need to know what that opportunity is."

"That's a good idea, Pops."

"Of course, it is!" he retorted. "You don't think that I've avoided the cops by being dumb do ya?"

"Of course not!" Ricky protested as they drove off.