DAY 1: CHAPTER 4:
Scarred-face.
Salvatore seemed to recognize me. This was the second time I saw him. He was always recognizable, as most Don's were. Why do they call them Don's? Salvatore Leone's name wasn't Don - its like whoever runs the Mafia took too much Godfather and too much Don Corleone.
Salvatore is easy to recognize because of his slumpy face. There was nothing unrecognizable on him: always slouching, hanging with big breasted blondes and Asians who just seemed to have there shirt open as a preview of what would happen if you slipped 'em a twenty.
Salvatore had a scar on his face. I'd like to call him Scarface, but I don't think he likes being called Al Pachino or a 1932 fake mafia movie. The scar looked like a switch-blade slice, and I never really noticed it before. It was large, but hidden under one of the multiple slumps of his cheek. A double chin, fat cheek, scarred face, and a tub of lard for a belly didn't make this man seem intimidating. No, it was the fact he was a double chinned, fat cheeked, scar faced, lard bellied man with four men with uzi's behind him when he walked to the bathroom.
The door slams open. Not the way I came in, but the garage way. Salvatore speaks.
"Luigi! How you doing? Sex Club Seven doin' alright?"
"Yeah, sure.
"Joey! Joey, you gotta find yourself a girl. Your momma would turn over in her grave if she saw you wittout a woman!"
" I know."
"Tony! How's your mamma doin'! You got a great family, pal, your just like your pop!"
"Mom's doin' fine, Mr. Leone. She should see ya some time: just come over to my restaurant one of these days, one day when were done with these god forsaken Triads!"
"And you! I have to talk to you. Come with me."
"Salvatore! Before you go, know that Jake did good. That guy owes him a big one." said Luigi.
The Man walked. I stared at him, eyes widened. Amazing how some people live, what some people do. I lived for love with Maria. Sure I knew Mick, but Maria introduced me to Mick, Mick to Luigi, Luigi to Joey, and so on.
"So, what can I do to impress you guys more than that guy?"
"Well, the Callahan bridge is fixed, so we have to deal with." Luigi was interrupted.
"The Colorado Cartel!"
"Very funny, Joey. Your jokes get funnier ever time you say them. Problem is, you say one every three minutes. Shut up and let me talk. Anyway, Jake, do me a favor; I don't trust this kid. Salvatore don't like 'em because Maria say she got a thing for him. 'He's cute is all', as she goes. We gonna send that bat to hell. Just go to Staunton and take out some Cartel - they got to many spank dealers for their own good."
"How much cash will I be paid?" I asked Luigi.
"A pack per kill."
A pack per kill! That's one hundred dollars per every kill! That crazy little son of a bitch thought I was under capable, or I needed some kind of motivation.
Motivation. What the hell do I need for motivation when I am goin' up against the biggest bastard in the world who just happens to be touchin' my love?
Well, looks like I'll just kill the Cartel.
Salvatore seemed to recognize me. This was the second time I saw him. He was always recognizable, as most Don's were. Why do they call them Don's? Salvatore Leone's name wasn't Don - its like whoever runs the Mafia took too much Godfather and too much Don Corleone.
Salvatore is easy to recognize because of his slumpy face. There was nothing unrecognizable on him: always slouching, hanging with big breasted blondes and Asians who just seemed to have there shirt open as a preview of what would happen if you slipped 'em a twenty.
Salvatore had a scar on his face. I'd like to call him Scarface, but I don't think he likes being called Al Pachino or a 1932 fake mafia movie. The scar looked like a switch-blade slice, and I never really noticed it before. It was large, but hidden under one of the multiple slumps of his cheek. A double chin, fat cheek, scarred face, and a tub of lard for a belly didn't make this man seem intimidating. No, it was the fact he was a double chinned, fat cheeked, scar faced, lard bellied man with four men with uzi's behind him when he walked to the bathroom.
The door slams open. Not the way I came in, but the garage way. Salvatore speaks.
"Luigi! How you doing? Sex Club Seven doin' alright?"
"Yeah, sure.
"Joey! Joey, you gotta find yourself a girl. Your momma would turn over in her grave if she saw you wittout a woman!"
" I know."
"Tony! How's your mamma doin'! You got a great family, pal, your just like your pop!"
"Mom's doin' fine, Mr. Leone. She should see ya some time: just come over to my restaurant one of these days, one day when were done with these god forsaken Triads!"
"And you! I have to talk to you. Come with me."
"Salvatore! Before you go, know that Jake did good. That guy owes him a big one." said Luigi.
The Man walked. I stared at him, eyes widened. Amazing how some people live, what some people do. I lived for love with Maria. Sure I knew Mick, but Maria introduced me to Mick, Mick to Luigi, Luigi to Joey, and so on.
"So, what can I do to impress you guys more than that guy?"
"Well, the Callahan bridge is fixed, so we have to deal with." Luigi was interrupted.
"The Colorado Cartel!"
"Very funny, Joey. Your jokes get funnier ever time you say them. Problem is, you say one every three minutes. Shut up and let me talk. Anyway, Jake, do me a favor; I don't trust this kid. Salvatore don't like 'em because Maria say she got a thing for him. 'He's cute is all', as she goes. We gonna send that bat to hell. Just go to Staunton and take out some Cartel - they got to many spank dealers for their own good."
"How much cash will I be paid?" I asked Luigi.
"A pack per kill."
A pack per kill! That's one hundred dollars per every kill! That crazy little son of a bitch thought I was under capable, or I needed some kind of motivation.
Motivation. What the hell do I need for motivation when I am goin' up against the biggest bastard in the world who just happens to be touchin' my love?
Well, looks like I'll just kill the Cartel.