Olivetti: Inception

by Tamilore Odimayo

  “I’m listening…” Frederick said as he knelt down to hear him better. There was a brief silence.

  “First you have to promise to let me go,” Don Moretti said. Frederick scoffed then grabbed Don Moretti’s neck.

  “Stop! Okay! It’s a drug that releases…” Don Moretti said then stopped as Clara walked into the bathroom.

  “What are you doing?” She asked, observing the bodies on the floor. “We need to leave now!” Clara added. Frederick reluctantly strangled Don Moretti to death.

  “Okay we can go now,” Clara added in haste.

  “We have to kill everyone,” Frederick stopped, realizing the repercussions of letting other members of the Moretti crime family live.

  Clara nodded as she brought out a pistol. She shot the two bodyguards lying on the floor.

  “No guns!” Frederick yelled. He was clearly distraught by the sight of blood.

  “You’re in America now Freddy, get used to guns,” Clara said, storming out of the bathroom. She briskly walked through the chaotic club. The only people standing and trying to help out were the workers in the club who didn’t have any wine.

  “There’s a bomb in the club!” Frederick yelled. Immediately everyone who had muscle control began to head towards the main exit.

  “Good thinking!” Clara said as she began to put a bullet into anyone who looked like a Moretti or a worker of the Moretti’s.

  Jimmy was parked in the dark alley, waiting for Frederick and Clara. He was nervous and the sound of the sirens wasn’t helping. He watched terrified people run out of the club. Still, there was no sign of Frederick or Clara.

  “Did everything go according to plan?” His body began to tense up. His heart beat raced like a horse as he waited impatiently.

  Frederick was his ticket to freedom. His debt with Don Patricelli was dependent on Frederick’s success. Jimmy lit a cigarette to ease his anxiety, but it didn’t work, he was still as tense as ever. Each puff created more paranoia.

  “Shit, Freddy! Where are you?” he said to himself – eyes fixated on the rear view mirror.

  Frederick ran out of the club like a clueless victim. Clara ran closely behind, screaming like a damsel in distress. They brushed through the doors without hesitation. The building’s exterior was in chaos. People tripped as fast as they ran. Cops, firefighters and ambulances swamped the entrance like a fish in sardine cans.

  “Help! Please help! Something is going on in there,” Clara yelled out in a state of fake distress. At that moment, Marilyn Monroe had nothing on her.

  “Step aside ma’am,” one police officer said, caring more about what was going on inside than what she was panicking about. Frederick smiled then calmly walked along side with Clara, pretending to be shaken and disturbed about what was going on inside the club.

  “Good job,” he whispered.

  “Well, thank you Mister Olivetti!” Clara said, mimicking Frederick’s European accent. Frederick smiled in return.

  “There’s one more thing I have to do,” He said, gazing at what looked like Don Moretti’s car.

  “What?” Clara replied. Frederick ignored her. He searched all the cars Don Moretti and his men owned. He finally stopped after spotting a huge brief case in one of the trunks. He sighed. There was no one in the parking lot.

  “We should go before someone finds us,” Clara said in state of fear and panic. Her adrenaline was wearing out and human logic was beginning to set in.

  “Hold on,” Frederick said as he clicked the brief case open.

  “A briefcase full of money,” Clara said with a smile. Frederick didn’t seem to be interested in the money. He dug his hand into the small compartment in the briefcase and brought out a small white envelope tagged ‘alpha’. He shoved the envelope back into the briefcase as if it meant nothing.

  “Let’s go. Jimmy is waiting,” he said, closing the briefcase and walking briskly to the getaway car.

  Don Patricelli paced around his office. He waited for Frederick, impatiently. It had only been a day since Frederick assassinated Don Moretti, but Don Patricelli had not seen nor heard from Frederick. His office seemed smaller. His paranoid mind made his brain feel like smoke. He fell into his big leather chair.

  “I think we should send some boys to roughen Frederick up,” Don Patricelli’s brother, Johnny said, observing his brother’s impatience.

  “Shut up Johnny! – I’m thinking,” Don Patricelli replied.

  Just then, Frederick walked in with Clara.

  “Ah! Freddy!” Don Patricelli said with a bright smile, glooming like a little boy who had just been given an ice cream cone. He jumped to embrace Frederick. Frederick reluctantly embraced him back. He was completely ignorant about his decision to never be directly involved with Frederick. Even Clara was surprised that he wasn’t upset about seeing Frederick.

  “Freddy the chemist – that’s your new nickname seeing as how you drugged Moretti and his entire crew,” Don Patricelli said, still gleaming with joy. Frederick said nothing.

  “I underestimated you Freddy! I thought a foreigner like you would never stand a chance against Moretti,” Don Patricelli added.

  “Ah! So you sent me knowing it was a suicide mission so that my cousin will still be indebted to you?” Freddy said.

  Don Patricelli’s countenance changed.

  “Watch your tone,” Don Patricelli said as three of his body guards walked into the room.

  “I mean no harm,” Freddy said. Don Patricelli scoffed. The atmosphere in the room became tenser.

  “Well, bottom line is, you have crushed my worst enemy – but there’s still more to come,” Don Patricelli said as he sat back on his office chair.

  “I’m sorry to disappoint you. I am done,” Frederick said flatly. Johnny laughed in a condescending manner.

  “Done?” His laugh was contagious. Everyone else in the room began to laugh except Clara and Freddy.

  “You are one humorous lad,” Don Patricelli said. Frederick smiled sarcastically and handed Don Patricelli an envelope. “That’s the money Jimmy owes you plus interest – I’m done. The keys to your car and your apartment are also in there. And oh, the five hundred dollars you gave me is also there,” Frederick said then turned to leave the room. Don Patricelli paused. He glanced at the envelope.

  “And you found this money where?” Don Patricelli asked, curiously.

  “It doesn’t matter. We are debt free,” Frederick replied.

  “Seems like you found the brief case?” Don Patricelli asked. Frederick paused, wondering how Patricelli knew about it.

  “Ahhhh…no wonder my crew couldn’t find it anywhere,” Don Patricelli added, getting up from the chair. Frederick and Clara froze, speechless. Patricelli could observe how Freddy and Clara gazed at each other.

  “Love birds! – Look, I’m not interested in the money. You can keep it for all I care. All I want is the other content in the brief case,” Patricelli said with a smile.

  “What other content?” Freddy replied, clueless.

  “You don’t have to know. Hand me the briefcase or I’ll get it myself and might kill you and your cousin in the process – oh and Clara too,” Patricelli added.

  Clara froze, more afraid than before. Her legs began to feel weaker. “Well, I’ll give you the briefcase once you tell me what importance the other content means to you,” Freddy said. Don Patricelli’s guards brought out their guns and pointed it at Freddy.

  “The next time you threaten me, I promise I would never disclose the location of the briefcase – and don’t think I’m dumb enough to hide a briefcase in plain sight,” Freddy threatened vehemently. Freddy’s courage surprised everyone in the room.

  Don Patricelli had a shocked reaction as he processed Freddy’s threat. Johnny stood there, angry that his brother would let a petty assassin talk to him that way.

  “Aren’t you going to do something?” Johnny asked. Don Patricelli was dumbfounded, probing his next action.

  “Kill him!” Johnny
ordered.

  “Stop!” Don Patricelli ordered before the guards could shoot. Clara gave a sigh of relief.

  “Put your weapons down,” Don Patricelli ordered again, in a state of anger and confusion. Frederick gave a sublime smirk, realizing how desperate Don Patricelli must be.

  “Get out!” Don Patricelli yelled.

  “All of you! Except Freddy,” he added, signaling to his frustrated brother, Johnny, to leave also. Frederick observed as everyone left reluctantly. Clara was mostly afraid for her life. She walked out with the same people who just pointed a gun at her.

  “It’ll be okay. If they kill you, they’ll get absolutely nothing,” Frederick reassured Clara.

  Don Patricelli waited until everyone was out.

  “So what did he tell you?” Patricelli said, going straight to the point.

  “He didn’t tell me anything,” Frederick replied.

  “C’mon don’t play dumb with me – there’s no way you would have known about a briefcase of money without being told by Don Moretti himself – and I’m guessing he told you that when he was begging for his life,” Patricelli replied.

  “Bloody coward,” Patricelli scoffed. There was a brief silence.

  “Okay! Let’s say he told me about the money. What’s this about the other item?” Freddy asked.

  “The other item is of no benefit to you. It’s like taking water pills for ordinary people,” Don Patricelli.

  “Hmm define ordinary – and why is a worthless pill so important? – wait! – Don’t tell me! ‘In the right hands, it’s worth millions maybe billions,” Frederick said with a smile.

  “Look, you don’t understand the magnitude of this. People, powerful people, will do about anything to get their hands on those pills; you know how many Mob families want that power? We can be partners! We can share this together!” Patricelli said desperately. Frederick knew he had the upper hand in the discussion.

  “Okay! Why don’t you start by telling me what this pill does?” Frederick asked.

  Patricelli sighed. “Heard of the illuminati?” Patricelli asked. Frederick’s face suddenly became serious.

  “Well, these groups of people with special genes are descendants of the illuminati. They never get to know how special they are until they take this pill – the pill basically unleashes abilities beyond human comprehension,” Don Patricelli said.

  “That’s all I know. Honestly, these people practically control the world and everything that exists in it. They control the politics, the food, technology and everything else! So who are we to deny them of the one thing they want – we can trade it for all the money and the power we can get. Think about it! We can be Billionaires! Imagine the power and respect that comes with that? We can both have it,” Patricelli said passionately.

  “Who developed this pill?” Freddy asked bluntly.

  “A chemist! Unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances, the chemist was killed – he was the only person who knew the formula,” Patricelli replied. Frederick paused, realizing that he had just become the most powerful person in the world. There was a very long silence. Patricelli patiently hoped that Frederick would have a change of heart and reveal the location of the pills.

  “Okay!” Frederick said after a deep sigh.

  “Okay what?” Patricelli asked.

  “Okay I’ll give you the pills,”

  “Good! Good!” Patricelli said in utmost joy, hugging Frederick.

  “Now where is it?” Patricelli added.

  “I’m not telling you where it is…” Frederick said. Patricelli’s countenance changed again. He was ultimately disappointed – more or less angry, but with a twist of confusion.

  “What do you think I am? Stupid? I know you’re going to kill me once I reveal the location,” Frederick said. Patricelli was clearly angry.

  “We will work together to sell this to the right buyer – but it is going to be under my terms and control. We would work on this together, alone. Your hysterical brother must not be involved in this,” Frederick added.

  Patricelli was dumbfounded.

  He couldn’t kill Frederick or threaten any of his loved ones due to fear of losing the most needed item in the world. Patricelli was frustrated by Freddy’s schemes. He wasn’t used to being teased by someone who worked for him – someone beneath him.

  “I will see you when I see you. We are going to be billionaires,” Frederick said with a sly smirk on his face as he left the room.

  18

  The air outside the prison walls was cleaner, fresher and freer. John Baker was happy to be free. He inhaled deeply then smiled. His rugged boots still fit. However, his shirt didn’t. He’d spent only six months in the penitentiary and managed to gain weight—the irony. He adjusted his tight jeans then walked into the truck parked at the left corner of the prison. Damon’s men were on time as promised. He had bought his freedom with a hefty price and the thought of a bullet hole in Tom’s head gave him a mild chub.

  He had been watching the news. Ricky Raymond, his Lover, was missing and assumed dead. He knew Tom had something to do with it and was desperate to find Tom before his trial.

  His feared Tom might find his family, threaten them or use them as collateral. It was the way of the mafia. He had one chance and one chance only. If he missed his opportunity, the wrath of the Olivettis will fall on him. He was frightened and angry at the same time. He wanted his money and the satisfaction of revenge. He wanted Tom to pay for the humiliation his family had to face. The last time he heard from his now ex-wife, the local church pastor refused to let them into the worship service. His involvement with crime was too scandalous for a small town.

  He thought about Damon. He was only interested in getting his six million dollars back. He knew he was just another chess piece to Damon’s sadistic will to kill and get back what Tom stole from him.

  It was a Tuesday morning on a dry grey day. Everyone prepared for Walter Olivetti’s birthday. The entire family planned to be present and that meant extra security. They never thought he’d see another year after the attack almost cost him his life. Sadly, Tom seemed like the only person concerned with protecting and avenging the family

  It was difficult to put on a happy face with the amount of problems he had. He was worried about Ricky Raymond’s family. Based on the news channel, they still hoped that they’d find her alive. He was sad, at the same time, he was learning to overcome his guilt. He hadn’t heard from Jack, his former bodyguard, whose previous actions seemed suspicious. He was worried about Damon, but felt safe enough to avoid any confrontation. Nina seemed to be the only person who could take his mind off his multiple problems. She was his personal amnesiac drug.

  “If only it were permanent,”. He had to make it end. He knew he had to kill the problem before it spreads like a virus.

  Stanley Olivetti, Don Olivetti’s younger brother, lived in a quiet place in New Jersey. He wasn’t into the family business and lived a life of solitude with his two daughters and wife. He was one of the few Olivetti’s with a good conscience or rather, the only one with distaste for violence.

  He had enough guards to protect himself and his family. However, he despised the attention it gave him. His guards never followed him. When they did, they had to be as anonymous as possible.

  Stanley opened the refrigerator to get a carton of milk, but there wasn’t any. He checked the freezer for an alternative. Still, nothing. He glanced around the marble kitchen counter, frustrated and upset.

  “Darling! There’s no more milk!” Stanley yelled. He was disappointed. He had been paying good money for a maid. Yet, he was reaping the fruits of his labor.

  “Sorry! Honey! Forgot about groceries,” his wife yelled back from the living room. He sighed in frustration.

  “I’ll be going to the grocery store soon,” she added as soon as she sensed his disappointment. She walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. His eyes were tense and she knew it was best to let him be.

  “Neve
r mind, I’ll go get it,” Stanley said with a fake smile. He grabbed the keys to his Porsche then mumbled something incoherent to his wife. Work was killing him. He’d been up all night, trying to finish his proposal and needed coffee. He stormed into the garage, still upset by the lack of the one thing he needed at that moment, milk for his coffee. It was a redundant need; however, he needed to leave the house to breathe.

  “Are you sure? Why not wait till tomorrow? Its eight pm already,” she yelled.

  “It’s the suburbs! Nothing much happens here. It’s safe,” he replied bluntly. He loved his wife very much, but sometimes, like every married couple, they got on each other’s nerves. There was no way he’d allow his wife to go out to the grocery store, in the middle of a family war. Besides, the house was safer.

  Stanley turned the security alarm on.

  “I’ll just be a minute. No need to follow me,” he said to one of his guards as he jumped into his car, put the keys in his ignition and drove away. Because it was really dark, he turned on the fog lights.

  He finally arrived at the nearest Grocery store then parked his car. He walked out of the car and walked straight to aisle two—where the milk was. He grabbed two bottles of milk just in case his wife forgot to get milk again then grabbed a case of beer cans. He walked to the counter, paid for his items then walked back to his car. The cashier didn’t bother to ask for a valid ID. He was glad. The last thing he wanted to do was fumble through his wallet.

  He thought of his brother, Walter Olivetti. He hated missing his brother’s birthday, but loved staying away from trouble. It was his duty to protect his family from the Olivetti stigma, by staying away from all events relating to the Olivettis.

  He opened his trunk.

  “Here let me help,” someone in a store uniform said as he helped him put the grocery items in his car. He recognized the person. He’d seen him shuffling around while he was sifting through the beer selections.