The Underboss Part III

The smell of rust and dirt was potent in the mound of car wrecks and obsolete machines that inhabited the junkyard. Giovanni had only recently pulled the armored car into the hiding place. He didn't want anyone to know where he was going. That generally was something most escaped prisoners desired. Giovanni had been sitting in the driver's seat for about two hours now, trying to conjure up a plan. He would have to find some new clothes. He also needed a weapon. Finding the weapon would be easy. The armored car surely had some sort of handgun inside. He would have to leave his shotgun behind. Walking through the streets of New York City with a Browning shotgun would not help his situation. He had to be rational and alert. If he made one slip-up, it could mean the end of his life.

Surely enough, a Colt revolver was in the back, among other weapons. Giovanni loaded the revolver and put some extra rounds in his pocket just to be safe. Each junkyard had an owner. Giovanni was sure he'd be happy to hand over his clothes to a man with a gun. He would probably have to wait until morning. He snuck over to the building, and checked the doorknob. It was locked. Maybe it was for the best. He would have to wait here until morning. Once the man got there, he would be in for a surprise.

Morning came quicker than expected, and Giovanni woke up just in time to see the junkyard owner get out his keys to the building. Giovanni snuck up behind him, undetected, pushing the muzzle of his pistol against the back of the man's head.

"What do you want?" said the man with sincere fear and anxiety in his heart.

"I don't want to hurt you, okay? If you do exactly what I tell you everything will be just fine, okay?" The man nodded his head in agreement. "Alright, good. Now I need you to walk inside," The man complied, ambling ever so carefully into the building. "Now I need you to give me your long coat and hat, okay?" The man stepped forward a little, and proceeded to take off his jacket and hat, his back still turned to his captor. Giovanni uttered a "Thank you," before striking the man in the back of the head with the butt of his pistol. He put on the hat, and then the long trench coat, concealing his prisoner clothing. He almost looked like an average city-dwelling Italian-American. He slipped the pistol into the coat pocket, and proceeded to walk downtown, but not before snatching the poor man's billfold.

Giovanni needed refuge, and for that he knew just where to go. He hailed a taxi and asked for transportation to Louis Restaurant. There he could get some food and make the call he needed to. It was a small, family place, with good food. Everyone minded their own business. For some reason, one of the distinguishing things about that restaurant that always stood out to Giovanni was that they had an old-fashioned toilet. It would be a perfect place to get some food and make the calls he needed to. As he entered, the smell of fresh food entered his nostrils. Fresh bacon, eggs, and toast were heaven compared to what he had had to eat for the past two days. He took a seat on one of the bar stools and ordered breakfast.

"Aren't you gonna take your coat off?" asked the waitress after a while.

"Oh, uh, no thank you. I, I have a bit of a cold so I need it to keep me warm," said Giovanni nervously. He had forgotten to create an answer to that question. He was already slipping up.

"Well if you have a cold then why are you even going out of the house?" asked the waitress. This was yet another question Giovanni did not have an answer to.

"Well, um, I was just, uh, I really wanted to get out of the house, you know?" said Giovanni. They had to be aware he was up to something by now.

"Sure," said the waitress, concerned. This was obviously just another strange, disturbed man. She almost felt sorry for him.

As Giovanni continued to eat his delicious breakfast, he couldn't help but notice a man walk in behind him. He was Italian. That was for sure. He was young, and his thick jaw made him look intimidating. He wore a grey suit with a black tie, and he held a briefcase. Giovanni could tell from the way this man carried that he was a Button Man. Why was he here? Was he coming for him? The Barzini family was probably still after him, if they were truly helping the police eradicate the Ardizzone Family. This man was here to kill him, wasn't he? Giovanni sat and continued eating breakfast, pretending like he didn't know he was about to die. However, the man continued to the back of the building, to the restroom. Giovanni watched the restroom with intent. What was this guy doing? Soon after, the man simply walked out of the restaurant, zero shots fired. Giovanni dismissed his thoughts as paranoia. He had to be careful. Thoughts like that could also land him in a bad position.

After he had finished eating breakfast and had laid his tip on the table, Giovanni proceeded to the phone booth. He needed to set up a meeting. He could not work his way around the Mafia chain of command. If he was truly the only Ardizzone left, then he needed to go directly to Don Corleone. Santino Corleone was the Corleone Family's Underboss. If Giovanni could get a hold of him, perhaps he could arrange a meeting with Don Corleone.

"Hey Santino, it's Giovanni," he said into the telephone.

"Giovanni? How are ya? The Ardizzones are all gettin' wiped out by Barzini and the cops! We figured you were dead by now,"

"Yeah, Santino, I know. I just broke out of jail last night, right before my transfer,"

"That was you, huh? Well, Giovanni, waddya need?" asked Santino, as if he didn't already know.

"I need to meet with your father,"

"Haven't you seen the papers? He's in the hospital! They tried to hit him! How did you not-," Santino suddenly was cut off and there were sounds of a scuffle in the background. Giovanni heard a voice telling Santino to calm down. He thought that it sounded like Tom Hagen, the Corleone Family Consiglieri and lawyer.

"I'm sorry Santino, I had no idea," said Giovanni, once he heard Santino get back on the line. The hectic events he had endured the past couple of days had kept him from keeping in touch with current events that didn't immediately affect him.

"It's fine, Giovanni, I just got a little carried away. How about this? Why don't you call me later tonight and by then I'll have something scheduled,"

"Sounds like a plan, Santino," replied Giovanni.

"See ya, Giovanni,"

Giovanni hung up and walked out the door. He would call Santino back when he came back for dinner that night. If Don Corleone was in the hospital from a failed hit, then all of this must be connected. Giovanni had quite a bit of money. He decided it would be best to buy some new clothes. A cheap suit would do fine. It looked better than what he was wearing now. Right now he looked like an escaped fugitive. It wouldn't be long until his face was printed in the picture, either. He would have to shave, then. After buying some clothes, he bought a razor and went to the bathroom. He changed and shaved, and he practically looked like a new person. Hopefully no one would notice him. If they did, then it definitely would not end well for him. His revolver would definitely not stop police officers.

After spending the day walking around New York, Giovanni finally made his way back to Louis restaurant, this time with prepared answers to questions, though nobody really asked him anything. That's why he liked the place so much. He sat and ate his dinner at a table in the corner. While he was eating, he noticed three people walk in. It was a little sketchy. Did this have something to do with the man that he saw enter the restaurant that morning? They all went and sat down at the same table. One of them was Italian, and young. He must have been punched pretty badly lately, because his jaw was swollen and it looked like his jaw was wired together.

The second man had his back turned towards Giovanni. He was Italian, too, and something about him gave Giovanni the impression that he wasn't really trustworthy. They had something to do with the Five Families. Giovanni was sure of it. The way they talked to each other and how they looked at each other revealed that they were trying to make a deal. It most definitely had something to do with all the events that had recently taken place.

The third man was certainly not Italian. After looking at him for a while, Giovanni finally recognized him. It was Captain McCluskey of the NYPD. Giovanni tried his best to hide his face. Had he gotten a good look at him? Was he in trouble? Giovanni peaked back at the Captain from behind the hand he had on his face. McCluskey must not have noticed him. He was too busy shoving food down his gullet. He was actually quite crude for a police captain, Giovanni decided.

After a while, the first of the three men got up and went to the bathroom. As he began stepped into the corridor, he made eye contact with Giovanni. Giovanni tried not to notice. His best bet to stay alive right now was to not make eye contact with anybody. When the man came out, there was something different about him. He seemed concerned and nervous. He was mildly shaking, but Giovanni could tell that he was trying to keep his cool. Giovanni knew how that felt. He remembered feeling like that right before his first hit.

The man burst out of his chair, pulled out a revolver, and shot the other Italian man in the head, sending blood to spurt into the air. McCluskey, obviously flabbergasted by this, stared at the man in awe. The Italian shot him twice. The man looked around as every person in the restaurant gazed at him. He proceeded to turn around and leave, lifting the gun in the air and dropping it on his way out. At this point, Giovanni had pulled out his pistol. He quickly dropped it back in his pocket.

He decided now would be a good time to use the phone. He quickly got to it before anyone else did.

"So how are things looking, Santino?" asked Giovanni.

"Well how about tomorrow morning you take a cab over to our house. I've arranged so that the guards will let you in," said Santino.

"Alright, thanks Santino,"

"You bet," said Santino before hanging up.

Giovanni decided he was going to take a cab to a hotel and got some rest. Tomorrow was going to be a big day. He decided to walk down the street a little before hailing a cab. He still needed time to think. About a half a mile out, Giovanni noticed something moving in the alley. He wanted to keep walking, but his curiosity got the best of him. Besides, he wasn't about to risk getting shot in the back. He pulled out his pistol and began to make his way down the alley. He began to see something moving in the shadows. As he tried to get a better look, he suddenly realized what it was.

He took cover in a stairwell that led into the ground. Shots rang out and pieces of brick sailed through the air as .45 caliber slugs slammed into Giovanni's surroundings. Suddenly, the firing stopped. He was out of ammo! Giovanni quickly rose from his cover and shot two bullets at where the assassin stood. There was a slight grunt, and the noise of metal and clanging to the ground. Giovanni, with his pistol still in hand, walked over to where the gunman lay. He was rolling around on the ground, blood seeping from his stomach.

"Help me," he gurgled. Giovanni was not in a business where enemies helped each other. He pointed the pistol at the gunman's head, pulled back the hammer, and fired. Suddenly, Giovanni heard the blaring noise of police sirens heading toward his location. This situation was gradually getting worse. Giovanni picked up the Tommy gun, loaded another magazine, and took off running. When he finally reached the end of the alley, a cop car pulled up in front of him. Flicking off the safety on the Thompson, he opened fire, destroying the car and everything inside it.

He started to take off down the road, but it was too late. A roadblock had been set up on the intersection because of the hit that had just occurred at Louis Restaurant. Giovanni had slipped up. As the police began to fire their weapons in Giovanni's direction, he ran to the alley, but officers were already headed down it, weapons drawn. Giovanni sprayed the rest of his ammo down the alley, killing most of the officers that were there. Now, he was as good as dead. Pulling out his pistol, he began to run in the other direction towards the grocery store. He really had no idea why except that he had nowhere else to go.

As he ran, more officers came from the alley armed with pistols and shotguns. They all fired. The first couple of shots missed, breaking the glass in front of Giovanni, allowing him to enter the store. The officers rushed forward, firing all the way. The first bullet hit Giovanni in the shoulder. The pain felt like he had been hit with a baseball bat that had a spike on it. As he screamed, he fell downward, knocking down a crate of oranges. The police, now great in numbers, fired all of their weapons in Giovanni's direction.

Ten hours later…

Inspector Taft surveyed the body of the notorious criminal that lay before him. Taft's partner, Inspector Moore, had been murdered by this menace. Taft was happy to take part in the man's death. The Corleones would now have one less ally for the war, no matter how lacking in power. The Ardizzone Family had been eradicated. The last member not deceased or in custody lie here dead in a mixture of blood and orange juice, per the Barzini's and Tattaglia's request. This Underboss would never be in charge of anybody again.