Chapter Five; The Constitutional Principality

Niccolo stared at his new ID cards with admiration. This was truly his money's worth.

He looked up to where Butch was still staring at him with a certain wonder and puzzlement. Niccolo wondered what the fuck Butch was thinking of.

He found out soon enough. Butch sat down next to him, "You didn't tell me your last name was Koons!"

Niccolo glanced sardonically at him, "That's what a fake name is for."

Butch paled, but not because of Niccolo's sarcasm, but because of his acknowledgment, "You got a relative from the army?"

Niccolo grimaced, "Yeah I got an uncle, Captain from Vietnam. Old and crazy as a loon."

Rage flashed through Butch's eyes at the mention of Niccolo's insults, "That's a great man you're talking about!"

Niccolo looked back at him, "And he's my uncle, and a mean son of a bitch if ever there was one."

Butch said nothing. He couldn't say anything at this point; Niccolo was Koons' nephew after all, but he seemed prepared to tell him something about Koons. Niccolo was suddenly curious to hear what the mad Captain had done for this man.

"Well, anyway, we have to get going to Phoenix, Butch."

Butch was suddenly reluctant, and he spoke up, "Do you think we could go see your uncle first?"

Niccolo was about to shout, "What the fuck!" when he checked himself into pausing. There was a small child in the room, and he didn't want to upset either Butch or Fabienne. Instead, he gave Butch a look and asked as calmly as he could why that was so important.

"Because I owe that man a lot and I never thanked him," Butch replied.

Niccolo sighed, "What in God's name am I gonna do? I'm a wanted man, they'll be asking my family where I am and they'll think that they can get me through Captain Koons and his kids. I'm not going to go to prison again, even if my uncle did you the biggest favour of your life."

Butch sighed angrily, "There's gotta be a way for me to see him."

Niccolo growled, "Here. Maybe we can't see him, but we can definitely talk to him."

"" "" " "" "" "" "" ""

Niccolo and Butch headed over to a pay phone.

He glanced at Butch, "So why did you never think of this before?"

Butch shrugged uneasily, "I know. It's been bugging me a long time. It's just that I was in with Marcellus and I didn't want to put him through any trouble. Plus I didn't know where he lived. Couldn't find an address anywhere in California. Where is he, anyway?"

"He's in Nevada. So we'll be paying a pretty penny to call him up. And even then I can't guarantee he'll be there."

Butch seemed mollified, and they headed to a pay phone.

Niccolo was surprised to see that his fingers were shaking as he dialed in the numbers. What was he scared of? Old Koons was a crazy nut, sure, but he was miles away. He had nothing to fear. Anyway, he'd give the phone over to Butch quick and that would be that.

The phone rang over and over on the other side. Niccolo was about to hang up, when suddenly, "Hello?"

It was Jim, Captain Koons' son. Niccolo almost hung up before answering, "It's me. Mitch."

Jim was surprised. Niccolo could tell from his voice when he said, "Mitchell? What are you doing?"

Niccolo spoke quickly, "No time to explain, get me your dad. Now."

"Hang on! What the hell is all this?" Jim spoke back, "You broke out of jail, man! We had the cops come over here and interrogate us! You know how much stink you brought on us? Jesus Christ, you just have to do this!"

"Fuck you, alright? I didn't want this! Get me your fucking dad! I got someone here who wants to talk to him. It's a guy named Coolidge!"

There was a pause, and then Jim spoke in a less hostile voice, "Coolidge? Butch Coolidge?"

Niccolo spoke quickly, impatient with his cousin, "Yeah, the guy who your old man did a big-ass favour for."

Jim spoke up, "I'll go get Dad. He's always followed Butch's career on the radio and he's been hoping to talk to him."

Niccolo handed the phone over to Butch, "He's on his way."

As Butch waited for his call, Niccolo thought about the last time he'd seen his uncle and his cousin.

"What the fuck were you thinking!" Captain Koons roared out in a rage-choked snarl.

Mitchell stood there, taking it in, angry yet terrified of this man in front of him. This guy, after all, had been to Vietnam and had killed people. And he was a bit over the edge as far as Mitchell was concerned.

Mitchell had been kicked out of college. Paid for by Captain Koons, to get his nephew the future he'd promised his dying brother in Vietnam. Based on all those problems, Mitchell thought, Koons had made a promise he couldn't keep. He didn't want to be in school, he didn't want to fit into a small little office space or work ten hours a day. It was no way to live. He had plenty of money from his little side operations with Charley Jimmenez. He could get a full-time partnership with his buddy when they got established with their marijuana trade. They'd try and get cocaine as soon as possible and then they'd really hit it big.

Koons was not aware just how deep Mitchell was involved with Charley's operations, but he knew that the twenty-year old was behaving like an idiot with his future. Or so he thought.

Mitchell now stared balefully at his uncle, who asked him again, "What the fuck were you thinking?"

Mitchell spoke up, "You gonna let me answer that question?"

Koons pointed a finger at his nephew, no longer yelling, "Don't you goddamn start on me. I ain't the one that flunked out and fooled around."

Mitchell growled, "I didn't flunk out!"

"You had a B- average! The last time a son of mine got a B- average I kicked his little ass." It was strange, he was the only guy Mitchell knew that sounded more dangerous when he wasn't yelling. He could put a huge amount of threat into his menacing tone.

Mitchell tried not to show his hesitation, "Well I'm not your son."

"Which I say a Hail Mary in thanks for every day! If only your father were here to see you like this."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Look at you, you dumb punk,' Koons leered, scorn dripping from his words, 'You are pathetic. No big college will take you and you can't hold down a job for more than three months."

"You know my views on that subject!" Mitchell snarled, "If the minimum wage workers want to sweat it out then fine, let 'em. I'm not gonna play ball and that's that."

Koons sighed, prompting Mitchell to address another point his uncle had made, "And what's with that bull shit about no big college wanting me? Two of them offered to me."

Koons interrupted, fury etched on his face, "And it wasn't because of your grades, that's for fucking sure."

Mitchell stared at his uncle, "What's that mean?"

"I pulled big strings to get them to care about you, you little piece of shit. You're nothing compared to people who work for their futures. You think the sun shines outta your ass? You're a disgrace to the family name! You would have broken your father's heart if he saw how his son turned out."

"Fuck you!" Mitchell burst out.

Koons paused, looking murderous. Nobody swore like that to him, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that. Could you say that again?"

Mitchell felt rage inside him give him courage. He took a step forward, "I said fuck you! Fuck you and fuck your wife and your kids and fuck the family name! You think you're a saint or something? You promised your brother you'd kick his son through life and expect a thank-you from him? Fuck you! I don't owe you anything! You know what you are? You're the wrong brother that came home!"

That did it. Before he knew it, Mitchell was suddenly lying on his back, his nose exploding in pain. When he felt it, he could tell that it was broken. He looked up at Koons, who stood over him, looking angry, but also surprised.

Mitchell gave a small smile, belying the pain that was hurting him so much, and spat at Koons' feet, "I'll live to dance on your grave, cocksucker."

Koons threw him out of the house that day. Mitchell went to go meet up with Charley, and so began his career of crime.

Snapping out of his flashback, Niccolo noticed Butch was happily chatting into the phone. To hide his bitterness, Niccolo began reading The Prince again. He opened to the chapter, "The Constitutional Principality".

Normally he had enjoyed and appreciated the parallels in Machiavelli's advice to the choices he made, but now his heart was filled with a sudden, saddening realization as he read,

A man who becomes prince by with the help of the nobles finds it more difficult to maintain his position than one who does so with the help of the people. As prince, he finds himself surrounded by many who believe they are his equals and because of that he cannot command or manage them the way he wants. A man who becomes prince by favour of the people finds himself standing alone, and he has near him either no one or very few not prpepared to take orders. In addition, it is impossible to satisfy the nobles honourably, wihtout doing violence to the interests of others; but this can be done as far as the people are cooncerned.

Niccolo thought about how Koons' influence had been the only thing that had put him in university. When he disappointed Koons, he threw Niccolo out. Was it the same thing with Charley? Niccolo wondered if that was true.

He suddenly had a bad feeling about something. He looked at Butch, who'd hung up, "Butch! We gotta go back now!"

Butch looked around, "Why? What's the matter? Cops?"

"No, just follow me!"

The two of them headed back to Blitzer's house, and as they hurried on, Butch asked what was wrong.

Niccolo answered, "You were right about Blitzer's lack of friends. He's gonna rip me off, I know it. And maybe you too, since you depend on him so much. Let's get out of here."

Butch was confused, "Well what the fuck are we gonna do about Ernie and Fabienne? We gotta go see Jimmenez, yeah, but they need to stay out of harm's way."

Niccolo was impatient to get out of here, "We'll find them a fucking place, alright? Just out of California."

Butch shrugged as he pulled out his key and went in, followed by Niccolo.

Niccolo motioned to where Fabienne and Ernie were clearly sitting, based on the laughter from the closed door. Butch nodded and went to get ready to leave. Niccolo headed for his own things.

Luckily he hadn't taken much out. Hastily packing it again, he made sure his gun was fully loaded before hiding under his sleeve. He held his arm parallel to the floor so that it wouldn't fall out.

He looked around, and saw Blitzer standing there, a gun stuffed in his pants in plain sight. The man looked confused, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Charley called. I gotta get going,' Niccolo replied.

Blitzer grimaced, "Not until you pay."

"Pay what? I already paid you."

"Hey, that fucking tripe was pennies. Plus I had to get rid of a lot of it because of fucking Jack Scagnetti. Now you pay me ten thousand to compensate. Five for the money I gave to Scagnetti, five to me."

Niccolo knew that this was a very dangerous situation. He had one chance to act, and he had to know it when it came. Niccolo prayed that the heated voices would cause Butch to hide his family out of sight.

Niccolo spoke again, louder to buy time, "What are you talking about?"

Blitzer stared with contempt at him, "Now I know why Joe named you Mr. Pink. You really have no muscle outside of what Charley does. Well let me tell you this, Charley won't go to war over you. You got elevated beyond your status just because you leeched onto that Latino bastard. I can take care of Charley, soon as I take care of you if you don't pay up now."

Niccolo nodded, and lowered his sleeve slowly so that the gun began to slide down towards his hand. Meanwhile, his left hand dropped the bag he was carrying and pulled out money from his pocket and hand it towards Blitzer. It was all the money he had; four thousand. Blitzer was gonna get pissed, but he'd be staring at the money.

He was right. Blitzer frowned as he mentally counted the money in Niccolo's hand, "What the fuck is that? You kidding me Nic-"

He looked at the dark red stain on his shirt, and he made a deep shuddering whimper from the pain. To shut him up, Niccolo shot Blitzer in the forehead, just as Mr. White had told him Mr. Brown had been killed. Some black cop had shot Mr. Brown as he'd picked up White and Orange from the heist.

He looked up and called, "Butch! Get Fabienne and the kid outta here, and everything you need to bring. We're gonna burn this place down."

Butch's voice rang out, over the sobs of his wife, "What about Blitzer?"

Niccolo looked down at Blitzer's body, remembering how Machiavelli had predicted this lack of power to a prince promoted by his peers. He gave a smile of satisfaction at the advantage that the book had given him.

He spoke again, "Blitzer's not objecting. Now let's get outta here."