The Mafia's Daughter

Disclaimer: I don't own Good Luck Charlie or that Dog with a Blog

A/N:

Chapter 21 (Studying the Beppe Mafia)

Gabe listened as his brother let out a pained grunt in the other room, PJ had been struck in the upper left arm and was now getting the bullet removed. He couldn't stand seeing his brother in the situation and was shocked that PJ wasn't actually screaming out the painful experience. Perhaps he'd dealt with this before? PJ was getting a bottle of brandy poured over his wound like they did in the movies, he never really thought about how it all worked.

What was their next plan to be, he pondered. Don Beppe was down one Associate and one Capo, and they had to take out the remaining made men before taking down the Don himself. Of course, it was a necessity to work fast, at the risk that harm would come to Jo's family. While listening to Damian and Emmett doctor up PJ's wounds, they were having him read up on Luca's files regarding Don Beppe's family.

Of course, sitting on the stained red couch wasn't too good, all things considered. He held the papers in his hand, leaning back against the armrest and occasionally glancing up at the door to make sure no unexpected visitors came running in. His eyes drifted back to the papers, he was in awe of the detailed information they had on the Beppe family. Of course, he'd want to keep tabs on the enemy too if a possible war was to break out.

Don Daniel Beppe, forty-seven years old, stationed in his safe house in Havana Cuba. His mafia family was burning bridges every which way. He was having to keep wars from breaking out with various different mafias. His Consigliere, Paul Walsh, was set to be the next stop. Of the three capos, one was now dead and two remained. Elia Durante, and Salvatore Marcello. Each typically had three soldiers in charge of the many associates and outsiders. Only the Beppe mafia family appeared to have lost a couple soldiers to fights, illness, and other causes of deaths. Not to mention, the soldiers under the Capo that PJ had killed were on the construction site at the time, meaning they were dead as well. Rodney had been under that Capo's charge, so that was one whole branch that no longer existed.

Gabe lifted an eyebrow and flinched as his brother let out another pained grunt. Ignoring it, he set the pages of the men already gone on the coffee table beside him, then moved the already read pages to the back. His eyes fixated on that of Underboss, Vladimir. Vladimir was thirty-six years old and lived in the upper crust of Denver. He was often seen hanging around Patrick's Pub and Brew downing a couple shots before heading off to work. A good plan of attack would be to strike in the opening hours of the morning. Don's orders were simple: Put a bullet between his eyes.

The second Capo, Elia, forty-three years old, was seen mostly around the main park at high noon. He would take a stroll each day around the park. Gabe studied his image closely, having only seen Vladimir as far as seeing the higher ups went. Elia's photo was of him leaning against a waist high fence with another man, chatting briefly. He had a red circle around his head. He wore thick brimmed glasses and had a head of full brown hair. His lips were framed by a goatee. He was very lanky in appearance, his skin was pale and his eyebrows only semi-existent.

Gabe moved the page downward, rubbing his chin as he stared at the soldiers directly beneath Elia. Two of the main had passed, one recently died in a drive by caused by the Cuban mafia. Unrelated to Deuce's cousins shooting up the transport van that carried away Jo's family. The second death was natural causes, the man had a heart attack and collapsed on a ballroom floor. Currently, Elia was interviewing associates for a promotion. He needed to be knocked off before that happened.

The one soldier of his remaining was a shady figure who looked somewhat like Rodney. He was dark skinned, had narrow eyes and a smile like a serpent. He was listed as thirty-eight old and a strong pool shark whose primary hangout was 2-Balls Joint. Gabe chuckled at the name of the location and shook his head. The soldier was Quincy Adams, surprisingly not a name he would have expected the man to have. He would have expected an Italian name, but perhaps Daniel Beppe was trying to get away from the Italian side?

Gabe licked his thumb and pulled away the page, moving to the last remaining Capo. Salvatore was a sixty-three year old, somewhat muscular man with a white moustache and bald head framed by white hair running from the sides of his head to the back. He walked with a cane, but was not to be misunderstood, he could be a virulent fighter. The cane was said to hold a hidden blade which he used as a bayonet. His usual hangout was the cemetery, where each day he would visit his wife who passed four years prior. He'd sit before her grave from at least 1:00 to 6:00 in the evening. This gave them a five hour window to strike.

He too only had one soldier left. One of his soldiers had been struck during the chase with Deuce's family. He was the man that Gabe saw was wounded but still breathing, he died en route to the hospital. The second lost Soldier had allegedly pissed off Salvatore by saying something at the wrong time, and that was when the elder decapitated him. Gabe wasn't surprised to hear about the incident, most of the people in Don Beppe's family were virulent and quick to anger, not afraid to cut anyone off in their rage.

The one remaining soldier already had one foot in the grave, it seemed. Manny Grant, fifty years of age and with grey fuzz where his hair should be. He was in the hospital, currently undergoing treatment for kidney failure. He was currently awaiting a kidney transplant. This man had been one of the most dangerous soldiers, sadistic and calculating. He would strike down his own men without hesitation or warning, everywhere he went, he thought he owned the place. The Don's order for Manny: Cut off his life support.

"How's the studying?" Gabe's head jerked up and his gaze turned back to the doorway. PJ was standing with his left shirt sleeve torn off and a bandage running from his shoulder to his elbow. Emmett was to his right, leaning with his elbow propped up onto PJ's shoulder. Damian was on the left. PJ motioned to the papers and cleared his throat, "If you need any further briefing, let me know."

"No, I got it. I'm just a little surprised that all the made-men are here in Denver while Don Beppe is in Cuba." PJ slowly nodded his head and moved over, gingerly taking the last page in Gabe's hands. "Manny Grant, stuck on life support."

"Correct. He is the soldier responsible for the most deaths associated with gang-related deaths in Denver. As we speak, I have men taking over the rackets and businesses that Manny was responsible for obtaining." PJ closed his eyes and breathed in slowly. "Manny will be the first to die." Gabe's mouth opened, but he held back his words. At this point, he wasn't surprised at all. It had to be done, and Manny sounded like a person that deserved the death that was coming to him. "Gabe, I know you've never seen your own brother in such a situation, but this is the way things are now. I need you to stand beside me, because there will be times that I, Damian, and Emmett will call upon you. Understand that."

"I do."

"I know Jo taught you to shoot a gun, and Damian had you shoot Rodney. The funeral was to show you what you would be facing. The CO mafia taught you to take over rackets. Now, it's time to pick yourself up and get into the real action."

"I'm just an outsider though, right? I mean, what can I do?"

"You get promoted by listening to your superiors and doing the jobs given to you," Damian replied. Gabe felt a rush of fear course through his veins, what were they going to have him do now? Damian looked to the paper and narrowed his eyes. "Manny, if he wasn't hospitalized, would be the hardest soldier to take out. Hospitalized, he is less of a threat, you will be taking him out." His heart stopped and a knot formed in his throat. "This report needs added information, his lungs are failing him. He is reliant on oxygen."

Emmett's gaze fixated onto Gabe, his arms folded over his chest and his back straightened. "His oxygen machine is going to have a mysterious failure to deliver the much needed material. He will suffocate for lack of air. Understand?" He didn't hesitate to agree, he was going to earn his brother's trust if he had to. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to PJ's eyes solemn gaze.

"I know it's not easy, Gabe. It's never going to be easier. Don't think I'm heartless, I hate all this killing too. Don Vitale doesn't believe in killing unless necessary, and right now, it is. This is for Mom, for Dad, for Jo, our siblings, and your girlfriend's family."

"I know…it's just, I'm still processing."

"Look. Damian, Emmett and I are all seasoned veterans, essentially. If you need to talk, we're all here to talk. We're here to help, so don't think you're the odd one out. We won't make you do anything if we don't think it can be done, we won't put you in the front lines."

"Doesn't that make me a liability?"

"It can't be helped, Gabe. No, I wouldn't call you a liability. You're a great asset, but all this that you're going through now is just going to help you for when we have to storm Beppe's compound. You understand?"

"Y-Yeah…" A calm feeling ran over him and his heart filled with certainty. He had faith that he could do this, and he trusted his brother and brother's friends to help him any time he needed them. He closed his eyes, breathed in slowly, and gave PJ a half-smile. "I can do this, PJ. I want to save Jo's family, I feel partially responsible." His smile faded and his fists clenched. "I feel responsible because Rodney had me transport them away without me knowing who they were."

"Right…They tricked you, used you, betrayed you. They messed with my little brother, and now they will disappear from Colorado for good. Starting with their last two remaining soldiers."

"So Gabe," Damian stepped beside PJ and placed a hand onto his shoulder while smirking down at Gabe. "You ready for this?"

The memory of the hostages came to his mind, followed by the thoughts of what just went down at his parent's funeral. He recalled Teddy's tears and felt a terrible anger rising in his chest. He clenched his fists and opened his eyes, his body filling with a strong determination. He looked to the trio and firmly nodded. "More than I'll ever be."

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