7. Kenny Rogers - The Gambler
Tip of my toe and thumb on the upper edge of the handle pointing at the target, grip fairly loose, I swung my arm back and forth and let the old scratched-up steak knife fly.
I watched dispassionately as it slid quite a bit off the mark into the two ratty dartboards, that I screwed together and hung up on the side of the stairwell leading up to the roof, where I was currently trying to relieve some stress.
The knife-throwing had been a spur of the moment thing, easy to learn and more than a decent time waster. To be honest, I had no illusions, that I would ever throw my own knife away should I ever find myself in a pickle, but still, it would be a ridiculously badass powermove in the right moment. I more than once daydreamed about casually flinging some steel into some unfortunate gangbanger while out with Paulie watching and learning for the job.
Regarding stress, well, I could have gone for a wank, but that might have ended up pretty awkward, particularly today, given that my elder cousins from the East End were bound to be here any minute.
A business dinner at Five o'clock in the evening, the sun was still high up and made Gotham almost look like a decent place to live.
I shook my head, if things kept going like this, I might even see business done during brunch, I thought with a smile.
Yes, a certain someone was seriously putting a strain on a couple of our practices.
For quite some time there had been rumors in certain circles, that someone or something was cracking down on organized crime. More and more strange stories turned up in the newspaper. A jungle sprouting and burning down during a single night in Robinson Park, a deranged scientist apparently the culprit. A crazy clown taking and brutally killing hostages. Yes, things had started to heat up in this city.
But not just here, last year Superman went public when he saved a plane. After regular news from Central City of a 'red flash' saving people and apprehending criminals, THE Flash also went public not long after.
And finally, these rumors here had a name that could get attached to them, people were openly talking about Batman in Gotham. People knew nothing about him, given Superman and The Flash, they weren't even sure if and what powers he could possibly have.
I checked my watch and heaved a sigh. "Better get ready for the show." I muttered and stored the old cutlery in a shoebox, which I hid in a nook near the stairwell.
Entering our apartment, I was immediately hit by a smell, that made my mouth water, and couldn't deny myself the little detour into our kitchen. Piero, a chef from the pizzeria downstairs, had been drafted to prepare this gorgeous looking dinner for our esteemed Underboss and his two loyal Caporegimes.
I saw him smirk when he caught me staring jealously into the heated oven, where the three prepared meals were kept warm and ready to be served.
"I made a fourth chocolate budino for you. It's in the fridge with the other three." He clapped me good-naturedly on the shoulder and started to point out what I needed to know for this evening.
"The Lamb Scallopinis with Pepper & Onion Agrodolce and pan-fried potatoes," he said slowly, knowing that I would be salivating just hearing the name. "are in the oven as you can see, the Ramazotti for after the meal is here, as is the wine. The desserts are in the fridge, don't forget to put the small spoons on the table when you set the table." He reminded me just to be sure.
"Will do." I nodded and he nodded as well knowing, that I would do my job to the letter.
"When everything is said and done, just dumb the dishes into the sink. Mateo will get them tomorrow morning." I swallowed my grimace, that was a relationship that had turned sour when I confided to Peppe just what I had been up to with Paulie.
I obviously had cleared it with Paulie beforehand as I hadn't wanted him to face the music blindly or even alone, but I had argued, that there shouldn't be any secrets in the family and that it would be the all-around better and safer option to just come clear with Peppe of our own volition before he would hear it from someone else.
Oh, he had been somewhat annoyed when he had heard what I had been up to with Paulie and occasionally Bobby, but that had quickly turned into approval and something calculating. It wasn't long after that I had been put under Paulie officially and jumped several people in line, that had been vying for any kind of recognition.
One of them was Mateo, who was still scraping a living by jobbing down in the restaurant. He hadn't taken too kindly to a little kid taking center stage and becoming the poster boy of the family.
Inhaling as much of the smell as possible I chanced a glance at the clock.
"I better go and prepare." I said to Piero, who nodded in agreement, "I'll be downstairs, and good luck." Another friendly clap on the shoulder and he bid me farewell.
Ten minutes later, the table was set, and I gave myself a final once over in my wardrobe mirror.
Shiny black shoes, black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a black west topped off with a black clip-on bow tie.
Straight posture, nicely filled out and black hair neatly combed over. I was definitely one hot piece of ass.
My roguishly good looks however couldn't hide my tenseness.
Back in the day, such a meeting would have been done down in the restaurant, where currently a sizeable amount of muscle was enjoying themselves, but given the current climate, big windows on street level weren't deemed safe enough anymore. Even more so since this was going to be an intensely private family meeting.
Panessa only.
It was just going to be Tomasso, Claudio, Peppe…and me.
My presence, it had multiple facets. It was a sign of utmost trust and appreciation to be allowed anywhere near that table today. I was, and this scared me a bit,…incredibly proud. Mandragora, the boss of bosses in Sicily, probably didn't even know I existed, signore Galante, the boss in Gotham after Franco Bertinelli got killed, might have heard of me, but I, a 14-year-old boy, was allowed into the inner circle of the Panessas', one of the Five Families.
The other message for me was a lesson. I was allowed to be here, while the higher-ups went along with their business, but only to do my job and nothing else. It was a reminder, that I didn't forget my place.
What had me uncomfortable on this seemingly joyous occasion, was made apparent when the three men stepped into the apartment and I deferentially accepted their overcoats.
Habits were one thing, but the greying hair on Tomasso and the dark bags under Claudio's eyes really hammered home just how much pressure Batman was putting on the families.
Peppe stepped in last and gave me a small encouraging smile, which I returned with a grateful nod.
They sat, I served, and wordlessly refilled the wine when required. The meal was a quiet affair, where I kept myself as unobtrusive as possible.
It was a somber and heavy silence, that was only perturbed by the occasional clinking of the silverware, and I was glad when I was finally able to clear the table and we could get to the meat of this whole endeavor.
"I spoke with Professor Valentin." Claudia finally began, and I immediately had to stifle a grimace.
Lazlo Valentin, a forensic doctor of the Gotham City Police Department, and also our…highly competent family physician.
Paulie called him Professor Piggy, because of the horrible pig snorts he did when he laughed, but never to his face. He had freely and without a hint of shame admitted to me, that he was never going to fuck with that man, for the simple reason that he gave him the absolute creeps.
We paid for his services with drugged gangbangers, that we brought to his little clinic, and with the disposal of body bags. Pauli had looked once into one of the body bags out of curiosity, he had said and had revealed, that he hadn't been this close to hurling since childhood.
"He recommended a Dr. Dekker, who's currently employed by Wayne Enterprises." He continued, unaware of my unease.
"We really want to go that route?" Peppe asked almost resigned, eyes on Tomasso, who sighed tiredly. Maybe this was a recurring argument.
"Talk is that Pasquale hired a cybernetically enhanced enforcer as a bodyguard, the Russians get cozy with an old KGB Monster, and just a stone throw west we have lunatics like that King Snake with his crazy bitch." Tomasso finished heatedly, revealing just how much this apparent arms race worried him.
Claudio turned to his brother, apparently trying to give Tomasso a second to calm down again.
"Everywhere we look lunatics seem to sprout like weeds, and some of them even started to carve out territories for themselves." He paused and gave Tomasso a quick glance.
"Peppe, we feel the strain." He hesitated for a second but looked ready to continue. However, Tomasso beat him to it.
"We can't afford to waste our resources on this little neighborhood Downtown with the Odessa and the Triads already growing bolder every day." He said frankly, and Peppe leaned back as if struck. Even I stared wide-eyed. This was my neighborhood, my home, too.
"You expect some egghead," Peppe answered agitated. "to magically hand us our own Superman. How exactly do you intend to convince this Mr. Mircale to work for us?" He asked, clearly implying that we weren't exactly the surest bet or biggest fish around.
I saw him lean back again, clearly satisfied when Tomasso didn't immediately answer. Apparently, this was the big crux of the matter.
The dining room was deathly quiet, even the city noise from outside was gone given the hour and the closed curtains. I had my unseeing eyes fixed on the center of the table, my mind racing at a breakneck speed.
I hadn't realized just how messed up the city was starting to become; just how bad we were faring. But we had a man, a chance that one of us could become… extraordinary.
A chance, that I could become extraordinary in this fucked up world.
I robotically walked towards the table from my quiet corner. Feeling their gazes shift to me, I kept my eyes firmly on the center of the table least I lose my cool until I finally stood at the edge of it. One hand I put gently on the table, the other I put in my pocket and grabbed my knife to bleed out some of my tension.
"This scientist works at Wayne Enterprises, while not swimming in money, he won't be interested in it. Leading scientists, one this man apparently seems to be, tend to dedicate their lives to their job, always aiming for the next breakthrough." I paused and finally looked around the table, trying to gauge their reactions.
Their gazes were firmly fixed on me, but they seemed willing to humor me…or they were stunned silent. I wasn't sure.
"Bruce Wayne is a playboy, but he seems to be living by similar morals as his late parents given the various orphanages, clinics, and charities he is spearheading. I highly doubt that he would greenlight human subject research in his company." I paused again, checking If they were following, and saw Tomasso's gaze sharpen noticeably.
"Research, potentially crucial, to advance. I imagine such restrictions might rankle pretty fiercely with our man." I finished and kept my eyes on Tomasso, he was going to call the shots.
"What do you suggest?" He asked in an ice-cold voice, and it reminded me just how much I overstepped my bounds.
All or nothing.
I squared my shoulders and pulled out my hand with the knife.
"Disregarding guns," I began, and flipped the knife open, eyeing the blade for a heartbeat until I looked Tomasso directly in the eyes and said with absolute certainty. "I could kill every single man in the pizzeria below us."
For one hair-brained, exhilarating second, I toyed with the idea of tossing my knife into the wall opposite me just to make a point, and the thought alone made me chuckle.
I was already turning into a proper nutjob, I thought with supremely inappropriate mirth.
Finally, knife still in hand, I gave a shrug.
"I'm a healthy, highly trained adolescent male. I don't drink, I don't smoke, and I am perfectly willing. What more can you ask for in a human guinea pig?" I asked openly.