Gangsters In Time [Part I]

by Stanimir Mirov

  “Objection,” called the other lawyer.

  “Accepted. Hasn’t been proven, the jury shouldn’t take it into account.”

  “Okay, just one last question. Were you involved in both shootings?”

  “Yes.”

  “I don’t have any more questions.”

  “In that case, the witness is free.”

  “Your Honor, the prosecution has no more witnesses, because they were prevented on the way.”

  “I took care of them,” whispered the lawyer to the gangsters.

  “Haha, you dog,” rejoiced Capone.

  “Hmm...” wondered the judge. “In that case, the court is adjourned until tomorrow at noon.”

  “Phew, just when things started to straighten and the judge intervened again. Now I have to beat my roommate again.”

  After they had gone back to their cells and Capone finished fighting, the guard approached, “You have a visitor. The mayor is here.”

  “Gentlemen, gentlemen,” began the mayor, “I have no idea how you found each other or who you killed, but I know this...”

  After a slight pause, Leo and the chief exchanged glances.

  “I know you have a lot of money, I know that you are more famous than the president and I know that all this is somehow connected to that machine, which the best of my people are looking at.”

  Again silence. The mayor expected some reaction, but as he didn’t receive any, he continued, “I also know that I am a greedy bastard and don’t care about the fucking machine. So, let's check the terms.”

  “Let me guess,” interrupted Galfonino, “you came for an autograph?”

  “These jokes may go with your friends, but if you interrupt me again, you will hang first. So, I want fifty thousand dollars in gold against your freedom and the machine.”

  “Okay, just let me go, give me your address, and after I have it, I will send it by mail,” smiled the Italian.

  “Not now Capone,” Leo intervened, seeing that the mayor was starting to get nervous. “How do you expect us to do this when we are all in prison? You didn’t think that I'd tell you where the gold is?”

  “I imagined such an answer. Therefore I decided to let two of you go and take care of it. You determine who will get out, but it will certainly not be him,” the mayor pointed at the Italian. “You have one hour to decide. Oh, and if you think you can win this ridiculous case, let me tell you now that judge Rodriguez and I are friends from childhood.”

  The mayor winked at them and left.

  “Does he think that we are the Rockefellers? If someone has wealthy aunts, now is the time to tell us,” joked The Sock. “So, how can we obtain so much gold?”

  “I can,” said Hitler, “but I'll have to use the machine. Unfortunately, we don’t know where it is, and, as far as I remember, it didn't work the last time.”

  “Actually,” said Galfo, “not exactly. By saying "there is no energy," I didn’t mean that it was entirely exhausted, but that it might have just enough for another trip.”

  “Hmm... That changes things a bit. I think the machine is still where we left it. There is no way they will be able to move it with a few horses at hand. Hitler’s plan is off too though and on top of that, we will have to teleport everybody together, once we are free. But everything in an orderly fashion. How to gather the money?”

  Chapter X

  The Plan

  Everyone looked away, imitating thinking looks, ones that could fool only someone mentally retarded.

  “I have an idea. We need only Garry, Storaro, and several Indians. Of course, we must find them first,” explained The Sock.

  “And what exactly is the idea, Einstein?”

  “Think for a second. Where can we find gold? In a gold mine. And where does it go from there? To the bank. And what are we going to do?”

  “Rob the bank!” Galfo excitedly shouted.

  “Yes, but more quietly. We have to decide who will go out...”

  “Guns, muns. It’s not for me,” said the chief.

  “I’m good here,” added Hitler while getting comfortable on the bed.

  “And I’m not allowed,” Galfo grinned.

  “Don’t worry, we will make him an offer he won't be able to refuse.”

  An hour later, the mayor appeared with a bag in hand.

  “Well, did you decide?” he smiled craftily.

  “Yes, but there has been a small change of plan. First, you will let me and him go. And secondly, I’ll need some money, horses, weapons, a map and a week time.”

  The man scratched his bald head, glanced at the guard and nodded. The guard unlocked the two cells. After Galfonino and Leo came out, the mayor handed them the bag.

  “Everything you need, but the price is now seventy large,” the greedy bastard smiled as his eyes became green. “Now get the fuck out. There are two horses for you outside. And don’t forget that you have a week and not a minute more or your buddies will hang.”

  The two gangsters mounted the horses and rode in the darkness. After several hours of riding, they decided to relax and check the map. The fire was ready shortly after.

  “It seems we have a little problem... Our guns are loaded with only one bullet.”

  “Mine has six,” Leo interrupted him, “ but our problem is bigger than you think. First, we need to find that fucking city where there are no longer any alive people. Let's hope that they don’t remember us. Secondly, we must find Garry and Storaro.”

  Several minutes later, Galfonino smiled, “I have a plan...”

  “I was hoping you'd say that,” The Sock smiled too.

  After a few seconds of explanations…

  “Well, you're kind of crazy?!”

  “What the fuck? You always think the worst...”

  “If the worst happens, pray for me not to live, because I will hunt you down…”

  “I'm telling you, bro, one day they will write novels about us,” Capone dreamingly gazed at the stars.

  “And think of where everything started...”

  It's been several hours and the sun rose. The gangsters managed to sleep a bit. The time has come to put the plan into effect.

  In the meantime, in the jail...

  “Did you understand what the mayor did?” The Khan pulled his sleeping buddy. “He canceled the case and said that we would take part in a war on the front lines.”

  “Interesting,” Hitler twirled his mustache, “if only there were a way to send us now, I would have at least half a battalion behind me.”

  “It is possible, but it can’t happen now.”

  “You're wrong because, if I have correctly assessed the situation, after a week, we all go to war, whether we pay or not...”

  “Haha, I had not seen this. They might even bury us somewhere along the way?”

  “First, let's get rid of the bars, then we'll think about it.”

  * * *

  It was several hours riding when Capone saw the Indian village. It looked like a mirage in the distance. After he had approached the entrance, he saw a half-dead Indian.

  “Hail, did you overdose or something?”

  The Indian slowly opened his eyes and, after a long attempt at standing up, with thumbs up, he replied, “Whiskey...”

  He collapsed on the ground. Apparently, the sound of the falling man woke up a few other tribe drunks.

  “To whom are you coming, sir?” a rather short Indian with glasses and book in hand asked him politely.

  “What a fucking strange village!” Galfo handed the reins of his horse and gave him a dollar. “Park my horse.”

  Directly headed for the biggest tent, erected in the center, he entered without knocking. After a few seconds was heard a female scream and Galfonino took off with kicks out. At this point, he saw the chief, who left the tent next door, putting on his pants.

  “It has started to become a habit!” yelled the leader. “So, did you like my daughter?”

  “That is not one of those questions where what
ever I answer makes me feel sorry for the rest of my life, right?” he smiled furtively.

  The chief laughed loudly and contagiously since several Indians began to swoon with laughter.

  “Hey, you are such joker. What can I do for you this time?”

  “For starters, I would love to drink some whiskey.”

  “Oh-oh, of course! Where are my manners?!” the chief turned towards an Indian and he shouted something in Spanish, or so it sounded to the gangster. “Step into my tent.”

  They drank two small glasses, and Galfonino briefly explained his plan because there wasn’t much time.

  Chapter XI

  The Second Plan

  Leo slowly entered the city which he was recently staying in. People on the streets instantly disappeared. The Sock hunched slightly so that his hat obscured part of his face, not wanting the local population to recognize him. He arrived at the saloon, slowly dismounted and parked his horse at the next beam. He took a small cigar and with a quick flick struck a match with the butt of his horse. He then put the cigar at the end of his lip and started walking heavily towards the entrance so that only the sound of his boots could be heard, clearly and distinctly. His cold-blooded entrance in the bar caused more panic among the locals than some of the completed designs of Osama. Tough, naturally unshaved and stinking cowboy, chewing tobacco, with his moist cow glance, after a long drinking pulled out his gun in a "slow motion" with all his speed, directing it towards Leo, or so Smith thought, and produced a shot.

  The African American, who had been playing the piano and was a few meters from The Sock, dismissed head and hands and fell to the floor on his neck. Leo did not react particularly because he had seen worse things…

  The panic continued.

  The killer of the pianist took his evil look away from the corpse and Leo, towards the fallen pouring bottle of whiskey.

  Cassis moved to the bar, “Bartender, give him another bottle! At my expense!”

  Alcoholic cowboy, killer of blacks with the look of fly smelling shit, grabbed the bottle with speed overtaking his shadow, which shocked The Sock.

  “Dude, if you pull the gun that fast, you will be immortal. Especially if you could see better...”

  Leo saw with his periphery few scums who couldn’t believe their eyes. The bartender was pale like he had seen a ghost in front of him. The Sock demonstratively unbuckled his holster and put his left hand on the counter.

  “Remember me, boy?”

  “Yes, sir. How can I help you?”

  “Relax,” Leo comforted him, “if I wanted you dead, you would have become food for the pigs a long time ago! All you have to do is give me whiskey and a little information.”

  The bartender fearfully began to pour into the nearest cup of his best whiskey. The cowboys didn’t like his words at all, but still, the fear was keeping them pinned to their chairs. There were already legendary stories about this man and his band. Once he drank the whiskey, The Sock spoke, “I’m looking for two people. Surely you remember them. They also participated in the shootout.”

  “I guess you are speaking of Storaro and Garry?” one of the nervous poker players finally interrupted him. “You can say goodbye to them because they will hang in the neighboring city today. I just wonder how you're free?”

  “You will not wonder for long!” Leo cut out his words and continued at the bartender. “This dead man was telling the truth, right?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  After the word dead, the cowboys couldn’t contain their cool anymore. All of them stood up at the same time. Leo didn’t like that at all, although he was aware that he was about to face seven people and that his gun only had six bullets, but that didn’t stop him from saying the words, “Let's get out. But first, give your measures to the gravedigger,” Cassis smiled.

  “You talk too much. Just be sure those aren’t empty words and that you won't spoil the pleasure for us.”

  The crowd drained in the fastest way to the street, and Leo slowly walked backward, facing the seven gunmen. He stopped at a distance. The thugs just ran in aline, smiling, anticipating what will happen, when something suddenly managed to upset them.

  “What happened, cowards?” Leo spoke to them. “Are you shitting yourselves?”

  The cowboys lowered their hats, put them down, together with their guns. People looked amazed from the windows of their houses. They looked and could not believe how those dangerous seven thugs were surrendering to a surprisingly well-dressed cowboy. But neither Leo nor the people had noticed the fifteen riders who snacked behind The Sock and had directed their guns towards the wicked men, sort of speak. A twenty-four karat smile appeared on the face of The Sock, and one thought passed through his brain. Either Galfo's plan worked, or the local stars really scare easily. The idea of the second filled his soul with feelings that will not be described because someone could understand them the wrong way. Even a song appeared in Leo's mind, and he began humming it and making strange dance moves. The bad cowboys looked at him amazed, аt which background were the Indians and thought, “What in the hell have we got ourselves into?”

  A few seconds later, they fled, and The Sock turned to see if he was right. Galfo winked and grinned. While he was mounting his horse, Leo noticed that the Italian apparently wanted to taunt him about the situation.

  “You haven’t seen anything,” said Cassis.

  “Of course,” answered Capone, “but have you ever thought about a career in dancing?”

  “Don’t envy, everyone knows that you are as plastic as a nail.”

  There was laughter all around. After they had calmed down, Smith explained about Storaro and Garry, and they departed. After an hour-long ride in the biggest heat, the city appeared on the horizon.

  “Fuck, did we arrive in Los Angeles? This is a large city,” Galfonino was surprised.

  “Which leads me to believe that there will be large banks!” Leo smiled widely. “We need a plan B.”

  “I feel pretty smart this week,” added the Italian. “I have a brutal plan.”

  The Sock blankly stared at him, as if to say, “When did you ever have a normal plan?” and Galfo apparently read the expression on his friend's face and just waved his hand as if he wanted to say, “Relax, I have thought it through!”

  “So, my plan is this,” he cleared his throat and continued, “Leo and I will check the banks. Four eyes and another Indian, with four horses, will go to the hanging. The rest of you will wait behind that hill for an ambush. Any questions?”

  “What if they recognize you?” clearly the smartest among the Indians asked.

  “We will try to not stand out!” Capone ridiculously smiled.

  They headed on their ways. The two gangsters arrived first in the city. They tried to ride in the smallest streets but soon found themselves at the center of the town, recognized by the gallows erected in the middle. The clock, hanged on the biggest building, showed 2:30. It turned out that the bottom level was a bank. Leo and Galfonino exchanged glances. The square was packed with people.

  Two horses stopped in front of the local pub, and two men walked quickly, apparently not wanting to be seen. They went to the bar, ordered a whiskey and started talking about something.

  “Did you see that?” asked the deputy sheriff.

  “I saw!” replied the sheriff. “Only, I don’t know where those faces are familiar from. Go gather the boys and I'll talk to our guests.”

  The deputy took off somewhere. The sheriff abruptly stood up after a few seconds, put on his hat, checked his gun and walked towards the strangers.

  “In what line of work are you here?” the man asked them.

  Both strangers ignored him and simply continued the conversation. The sheriff got angry and increased his tone as he continued, “You have three seconds to tell me on what business you are in my town before I arrest you!”

  Apparently, the strangers didn’t like his tone. They turned sharply and simultaneously answered him, “On holiday.”r />
  Then they turned their backs again with disrespect and continued talking.

  This time, the sheriff didn’t manage to stay calm. He started shouting something and reached for his gun. The strangers suddenly turned, but this time, with weapons in hand and a slight smile. The man of the law was looking like a deer in headlights. Unfortunately, his deputy arrived with five other people. His men stood behind him. The subsequent movements the strangers made would amaze even the most puzzled optimists. The one on the left pulled out a second gun, and his buddy returned his in the holster. Then he reached his hand behind his back and pulled an ax, and a knife with the other.

  “Come to me, more!” said the strange man with the ax.

  “My son,” said the sheriff, “I see that you're not well. Better lower your weapons.”

  “Try to take them!” the stranger snapped.

  A shot followed, and the sheriff's hat fell to the ground.

  “Let's get this over with!” hissed the other unknown man.

  The clock in the center was already showing 3:01, but there still wasn’t anybody for hanging. The whole town had gathered around the gallows and began to fuss. Around that time, there was a prolonged shooting towards the pub. The crowd backed a little and slightly decreased. There were shots again, but they came from the bank this time. People, already twice as frightened, but three times more curious, gathered on one side of the center, so they could see what was happening. Two strangers, shooting again, popped out of the bar. One of them, however, was holding a bloody ax.

  At this point, Galfonino decided to look outside and see who was doing the shooting. He squinted his eyes to see better for a moment, then he began to rub them hard.

  “Aren't those The Khan and Hitler?” he pulled Leo, who had just put the last money from the safe in the bag.

  The Sock glanced fast and smiled, “It’s them!”

  “Let's go, I don’t want them to run off!” Galfo pushed him again.

  They were just starting to walk when two of the guards reached for their weapons on the ground. Shots followed again, and the robbers jumped out to the square with gunfire. The Khan, who immediately climbed on his horse, stared, not believing his eyes, and the crowd seemed to experience a "deja vu". The four strangers jumped on the horses, approached each other, laughed very hard and flew away. In the confusion, the two Indians got Garry and Storaro out of prison and rode away to the meeting place.