“Uh…a date or…something…just lunch,” he stammered, nervously.
She chuckled. “Oh well, I don’t know about that. You’re a stranger and I don’t date strangers,” She teased. He frowned. “But, I can’t turn down a man as handsome as you are…so….” the constant glances she returned as she walked away, felt like an immediate invite. The other guards were on their break. He was the only one on duty. He glanced at his watch then glanced at the young woman.
“Nothing ever happens here. She’s safe,” he thought to himself as he ran after her.
“Um what about your number? How am I supposed to call you?” Peter asked.
“Walk me to my house, and I may give it to you,” She said as she seductively gazed at Peter’s zip.
“Your house?” Peter asked.
“Sure! You can be my protector. Protect me from the boys in the neighborhood. I’m sure you can handle that,” she said, smiling.
“I protect for a living!” Peter replied. It sounded like a joke to her, but it was true. He neglected his duties and followed her like a puppy on a walk.
Across the street, someone watching smiled at the event that was occurring. It was the perfect timing.
Roberto Puccini felt lucky. “All I have to do is walk into the house of a mob boss’s mother, without taking down any guards,” He said to himself.
“A lovely fucking day!” he thought.
“The gods must be on my side,” he joked as he walked out of the car. His khaki shorts shirt and flip flops made him look like every Tom, Dick and Harry, in the suburbs. His gun was hidden from eye view.
He walked to the front of the house. He had learnt the art of stealth in the army, but it was useless in his current situation. All he needed to do was walk into the house, shoot the old lady twice and walk out before the horny bodyguard returns.
Cecilia, Tom’s grandmother, was seated on the couch, knitting another sweater. She heard the front door open, but ignored it.
“Must be Peter or one of the other guards coming to check on me,” she thought. She glanced at some picture frames opposite her couch. She was sad. Stanley was dead. She was encapsulated by the grief of a never ending war. She stared at pictures of her children and grandchildren then stopped at Tom’s picture.
“Such a handsome young man with so much potential. I just hope he realizes his destiny,” she said to herself.
She heard footsteps in the kitchen, but ignored it. “They’re probably looking for something to eat,” she thought.
“Make sure you do the dishes, Sunny. Don’t leave it undone! The maid works for me, not you guys!” she yelled.
Roberto pulled out his revolver. He glanced at the living room. He was ready to shoot any guard who came up to him. He looked around. It didn’t seem like anyone else was in the house, besides Cecilia.
“Good,” he placed his gun in his holster. He walked into the kitchen, opened the medicine cabinet, pulled out a bunch of highly potent pills, grounded them and mixed it all up. “Make sure you do the dishes sunny. Don’t leave it undone! The maid works for me, not you guys!” He was startled, but eased up after a while.
“Okay!” he yelled back, in response. He waited for a response. None. She seemed satisfied. “Who the hell eats from their boss’s kitchen then leaves the dishes undone. No discipline,” he scoffed.
He opened the refrigerator. He brought out the orange juice, carton of milk, bottle of cranberry and bottle of apple juice. He put a spoon full of pills in all the drinks. He put the bottles back in their exact position. He wasn’t satisfied. He grabbed her liquid medications, opened the caps and put a drop of what seemed like poison, in each one.
“Great! No blood and a conspicuous death,” He put the small bottle of poison in his pocket. Roberto said to himself as he walked out of the house.
Jack shivered, afraid of what might occur. He was totally alone. If they decided to kill him, there was no way out. He couldn’t jump out of the patio, couldn’t run passed the hallway and couldn’t defend himself with no weapons. His life was in the hands of two powerful families; the Cruccifixos and the Sanchez family.
“So can I trust you?” Don Sanchez asked. Jack nodded, unable to speak.
“Trust is a vital investment, Jack!” Don Cruccifixo said. “I’m sure you’ve heard this story countless times. Well, a different version. When my daughter, Catherine, gave birth to my grandson, little Pablo, I treasured that little boy like the precious stones. He was my only heir. I made sure he didn’t lack anything. He was the blood of my blood and flesh of my flesh,” He sighed with pain and anger in his eyes. “All of a sudden, because of some minor misunderstanding, he was killed by Don Olivetti,” Don Cruccifixo said bitterly.
Just then, a tall muscular man who looked like Don Sanchez, walked into the room. His eyes were cold. The man nodded to Don Sanchez, his father then nodded to Don Cruccifixo, his father in-law. It was clear he had cold feelings. He glanced at Jack. His face was full of disdain and disgust.
“This him?” the man asked. Don Sanchez nodded.
“This is my son, Billy Sanchez, Pablo’s father and Catherine Cruccifixo’s husband,” Don Sanchez said to Jack. Jack’s heart skipped a beat.
“So you worked for those murderers?” Billy asked in a calm tone. Jack couldn’t respond. Billy cleared his throat as he poured himself a glass of wine. His physique was very intimidating. The whole room seemed to react negatively to his silence.
“Jack. There comes a time when you realize that some pains have no medication,” Billy started. Jack couldn’t feel his legs anymore. His heart was tired of beating fast. He thought about the possible torture he’d face till he exposed their secret. What? He didn’t know any secrets the Olivettis had. There was absolutely nothing to tell. The Olivettis had an uncanny way of hiding in plain sight.
“My wife has been in pain ever since the loss of our son,” Billy continued as he walked around the room. The sound of his nicely crafted boots made a loud noise with each step. The room was quiet.
“The Olivetti’s are somewhere in an office, bedroom, living room or a club, with their precious little bodyguards…they think we can’t get them,” He paused. “I’ll kill them one by one, so he can feel the pain of a decade old loss,” Billy added.
Jack regretted the day he called for their help. Billy de Sanchez looked like he was about to crush his head. Don Sanchez and Don Cruccifixo remained quiet.
“What do you think I should do?” Billy asked, looking straight into Jack’s eyes. Jack gulped. He didn’t respond. He hoped the question was rhetorical.
“Kill ‘em! Kill ‘em all!” Billy yelled. It was hard to tell if he was insane or just plain angry. Both seemed to be two reasonable explanations.
“I’ve waited this long for revenge. It’s a good thing you didn’t bury Purio Maccuzo. He’s one of our best. For saving him, we will spare your life,” Billy said. Jack smiled in relief. Billy glanced at Jack.
“Now here’s the plan…..”
22
Tom Olivetti got out of the car with Dean and his new bodyguard, Sylvester. He walked straight to Don Olivetti’s study without stopping to greet any of the guards. There he was, seated on his black leather office chair, waiting for Tom. He seemed tense and Tom could tell he wasn’t too happy.
“Sorry I was late,” Tom said. Don Olivetti responded with a side smile. He cleared his throat. Every single man in the room walked out.
“I never expected to talk to you one on one about family business, but you have proved yourself worthy. You have more balls than I did when I was your age,” Don Olivetti said. His words were complimentary and harsh, at the same time. Don Olivetti’s aggrieved look interfered with his friendly tone.
“Let’s get started. Shall we?” Tom said in a hurry to hear what his uncle had to say.
“Straight to the point! I like that,” Don Olivetti said as Tom smiled in response. He was only interested in killing more cartels and finding the snake that escaped from his hands—
Purio Maccuzo.
“Years ago, I killed Don Sanchez’s grandson,” Don Olivetti began. There was no look of surprise on Tom’s face.
“And now, Stanley is dead and many of us will be if we don’t clean up the mess we made. We have to kill the Sanchez family. We have to annihilate the Cartels, cripple their business and tarnish their investments. We have to send a message to all mob families….” Don Olivetti continued.
“I agree,” Tom replied.
“But…”
“But what? You’re certainly not thinking of doing anything otherwise. Are you?” Tom replied.
“Patience Tom! Everything isn’t what it seems,” Don Olivetti replied.
“You’re going to give them another chance? A truce!? You killed little Pablo and you’re expecting them to forget?” Tom asked in an elevating tone.
“No! Pablo isn’t dead. Little Pablo is very much alive,” Don Olivetti said. Tom paused in astonishment.
Cecilia wondered why Peter hadn’t checked up on her. She was thirsty. She needed to take her medication. The day was unusual. Peter usually checked on her frequently. She was too lazy to stand up. Days of Our Life was on TV and she wasn’t missing any of it.
“One day, he will run the family. He can’t rule the world from prison,” she thought to herself. She couldn’t wait for her guards to return. She had sent them on errands to take care of something important: Ricky Raymond and the warehouse. She had a simple part to play in Tom’s life; to protect and to serve. She was aware of Tom’s drug escapades and never stopped him from doing what was in his DNA.
“Never knew how special Walter’s kid was,” she said to herself. Walter was the softest amongst all brothers. His love for humanity prevented him from soaking his hands in blood. He was always a spectator and never took part in any crime.
The TV program had finished with the usual cliff hanger. She walked to the fridge in her kitchen. She looked in the sink. There were no dirty dishes.
“Hmm strange,” she said to herself. The people sworn to protect her were known to leave dirty dishes for the maid to clean up in the morning. She poured some cranberry juice into a plastic cup, grabbed her medication, tossed some in her mouth and drank the entire cup of cranberry. It was cool and refreshing.
“So what are you saying? He’s alive?” Tom asked. Don Olivetti nodded in response.
“So you kept a little boy…all these years, without killing him?” Tom asked, still stunned.
Don Olivetti nodded again.
“I couldn’t have that boy killed, even if I wanted. He was special— really special. Besides, I have a conscience. I believe in an ‘eye for an eye’ not ‘an eye for a tooth’. Don Sanchez killed your Grandfather and the only solution is to kill Don Sanchez. No one else has to be involved!” Don Olivetti replied.
“So where is little Pablo?” Tom asked.
“He is hidden, obviously. Little Pablo isn’t so little anymore. He is going to fulfill his destiny,” Don Olivetti said.
“And now that they have killed Uncle Stanley?”
“That means more vengeance. Nothing goes for nothing,” Don Olivetti replied.
“So who’s going to die next?” Tom asked as he stood up.
“Don Sanchez,”
“And how do you plan on doing that?” Tom asked, curiously.
“Well, we now have a man on the inside and I hope he succeeds,”
“Who?” Tom asked.
“Jack! Your former bodyguard!” Don Olivetti said as he lit a cigar.
“Jack? W-what? That traitor?” Tom asked with a disdainful look. His fist was clenched and his eyes grew cold.
“You think he betrayed you? Think! He only did what he did to get on the inside,” Don Olivetti replied.
“So he didn’t kill Purio Maccuzo, intentionally, so that he could get to Don Sanchez?”
“Yes,” Don Olivetti replied.
“So he betrayed me because of your orders?”
“Yes,” Don Olivetti responded again. Tom paused. It all made sense. The thought of Jack betraying him eluded him. It had felt like a blow to his ego.
“And my other guards, who killed them?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure when Purio Maccuzo explained to the Sanchez family that he had done them a favor, they helped him kill the guards you appointed to watch him,” Don Olivetti explained. Tom was dumbfounded. Part of him was relieved.
“But if you knew all this, that means you watched Purio Maccuzo kill Uncle Stanley?” Tom asked.
“No! How could I do that? Stanley was my brother, he was just too careless. He left the house without his guards! Besides, Purio had not checked out of the hospital by then,” Don Olivetti replied.
“So, someone must be helping him then….” Tom said, completing Don Olivetti’s statement. Don Olivetti nodded.
“So how do we find the new killer?” Tom asked.
“That’s on you son! I trust you to fix this,” Don Olivetti said with utmost confidence. Tom was surprised.
“What? I can’t trust you?” Don Olivetti asked. Tom didn’t say a thing.
“I left Purio for you. You have the pleasure of avenging your family. Consider it a test of competency,” Don Olivetti said.
Tom struggled to hide his smile. All his life, he had dreamed of pleasing his family. He had always wanted to be an important member of the family. He felt slightly overwhelmed at the opportunity to prove himself. Don Olivetti brought out a black case from his drawer then handed it over to Tom.
Tom clicked the case open. There was a silky black cloth covering an object. He looked at his uncle then looked at the cloth. He lifted the black cloth. His eyes widened, astonished. There were two golden hand guns in it. His name, Thomas Olivetti, was engraved on the left side of each gun. Tom lifted the gun. He was beyond awed. It felt heavier than the last gun he had held, thanks to the gold plating. It had a black trim design and the trigger felt unique. He stared closely at it. It seemed to have a finger print sensor.
“You’re the only one that can use this gun. It’s specifically designed for you…State of the art technology. The FBI doesn’t even use it yet. It works with your finger print, only,” Don Olivetti said. “How…” Tom gasped, too excited to speak. For the first time in a long time, he felt special.
“You must conceal this from your father and everyone else in the family. It’s for your eyes only. It’s expensive, so I don’t need to tell you that it should be used on special occasions,” Don Olivetti said. “Yes! Of course, I will!” Tom replied. He was ecstatic and happy. “Thank you! I will not disappoint you, sir!” Tom said as he kissed his uncle’s ring—a sign of respect.
“You will not disappoint yourself,” Don Olivetti said.
Tom walked out of the room feeling like a made-man. Finally, the Don himself had entrusted him with a task. It was a test, an easy test. The only person he could think of was Nina. He carried his case with pride, gleaming like a man who had just had his first kiss. He had become a whole new man. He walked out of the mansion. Dean and Sylvester gazed at Tom, surprised by his countenance.
“Where to, Boss?” Dean asked
“Nina’s,” Tom said as he jumped into the backseat of his car.
Nina Owen flipped through channels, looking for something meaningful and interesting to watch on television. She had a knack for documentaries and historical dramas, but she had seen it all.
She heard a knock on the door. She wandered who it could be. The mail man had already delivered her Forever 21 package and her parents were out of town, visiting her brothers in college.
She hoped it wasn’t Eric, the guy she had met a while ago who seemed to be interested in her. He was a nice guy, but she wasn’t interested. Her friend, Barbara, had pressured her to date him, but there was no attraction to build a conversation.
She walked to the door. Her soft socks scraped the carpet with each stride. She was interested in being a couch potato, for the day, after a rough week of studies. She looked through the hole. A look
of surprise emerged on her face. It was the last person she’d expected. She opened the door.
“Hi!” she said with a beaming smile. “Hi,” Tom replied, half shy. He was expecting a different response. She stepped out to the front porch, closed the door behind her slightly, and then folded her arms. Her hair was half rough from lying on the couch. She still looked more beautiful than any woman he had seen. Her skin was flawless and the dimples on her cheeks made him shudder.
“I’d invite you in, but my parents are in,” she lied. She couldn’t trust herself around Tom. He was a plague that ravaged her thoughts. His presence made her feel weak and strong, at the same time. He had a vibe that made her want more of him.
“Hmm that’s a good idea,” Tom replied, with a spark of humor.
“She’s so beautiful,” he thought to himself. His eyes never left hers. She sat on the front steps of her house. Tom did likewise.
“Uh…I have a lot of explaining to do,” Tom said.
“Yes you do,” she said with a smile. There was something warm about her presence. She reminded him of his grandmother. Her eyes were soft and didn’t seem intimidated by him, unlike the other girls he’d been with.
“Well, I need to apologize for something,” Nina added. “I’m sorry for the way I reacted the other day. Rumors are rumors. I should have handled it more maturely,” Nina added. Tom paused then laughed.
“No! I should be apologizing,” Tom replied then sighed. “Look! I haven’t handled myself well in the past year. I mean, the whole Donna thing…I have been trying to contact her. She’s not answering. I really need to find out to be sure it’s a rumor,” Tom said.
“You don’t have to explain Tom, I understand,” Nina responded. There was a brief moment of silence as they both took in fresh air. The mysterious man by her side seemed to need her and she could tell. Still, of all the women he could be with, she couldn’t comprehend why he wanted her.
Olivetti: Inception Page 15