Frank White sat in his cell reading a copy of Machiavelli's The Prince, he had gone through many pieces of literature from classical to pulp, but The Prince, often regarded as a satire, held some truth to him. Ten years. Ten years of reading books. Ten years of routines, day in and day out. A decade of time behind bars was a lifetime for a man of his age and background. The days went by like the pages of a book, he was careless, his youth was a track record of reckless crime after reckless crime until he found employment under the Dracon crime family.
Every crime family was a kingdom and Frank was one of the many lords serving under the Kingpin of New York City. He enjoyed the life, little crime here and there, collect taxes, pay taxes to the King. Life was good, until Frank became bored of the life, it was no different than the cell he was rotting in. History taught him that most kingdoms, like empires, didn't last for long and Tony Dracon was a grade A example of what happens to every kingdom passed down like a family heirloom. The incompetent little Nero would let the city burn just to try and make a name for themselves.
Frank figured out this lesson too early, kingdoms and crime families were relics of the past. He thought about the future and saw how weak the Dracon's made themselves by sticking to the antiquated idea of transporting their old world ideas across the sea to America. They were trying to make a Little Italy out of fifth avenue and lacked the vision to see the potential of integrating themselves with people of all creeds and colours into one family. Divided they would continue to fight over a piece of land while the rest of the world grew strong, but together as one family, no one power in the world could stop them.
He made the mistake of taking this up with the heads of the Dracon family directly, some laughed, others called it blasphemous, one head pissed on his shoes. Frank knew that disobeying the heads would mean death, but he went on anyway with his plan and recruited several promising members off the street, scouted for their personal panache for violence, but also their loyalty to his cause.
It didn't take long for the Dracon's to find out Frank had gone behind their backs, even after the verbal lashing he received. Frank prepared himself for the worst, but instead he got the ultimate insult. The little Prince, Tony Dracon, had gotten busted for running over an old woman crossing the street on Park avenue with his lambo. Frank wished they would have shot him in the head and gotten it over with, but instead he had to take the fall for Little Dracon's hit and run.
Frank took the time, because if he hadn't the little operation he started with his own crew would be put in the crosshairs. Like a good little lord he plunged himself on the sword, all the promises and reassurances were made, but Frank knew his family would be thrown out on the street once he entered Riker's.
Ten years, it was enough time for a man to get mad, get smart, and get his revenge. In his youth, he would be banging the walls, questioning his fortune and swearing to the almighty, but his time behind bars changed his disposition.
Ten years was more than enough time for him.
A guard rapt his baton onto the cell as the doors shuttered open, it felt different than the other times he'd go in and out, this time he wouldn't be back. The guard looked at Frank and then into his cell, "You're not gonna take your books?"
"Already read them", Frank continued down the hall following the other guard.
Frank was on the last leg of a long marathon, ten years was a long time for some men, even at the advent of parole, some shuddered at the last walk down the mile to freedom. Prisoners across the cell block surveilled Frank as he walked past, taking one last look at him. Some of them clapped, while others jeered or subjected him to insults.
A familiar cackle echoed throughout the block, "Sad to see you go so soon White, I wanted to give you a souvenir to remember me by." Jackal stuck his head out from his cell and rattled the bars, a guard shouted back at him.
"Knock off that racket #43896!"
Frank smirked, "If you ever get an early parole and you're looking for fun, look for me at the Plaza Hotel. Bring that sister of yours as well".
