by Tony Bertot
Denise sat very close to Nick and took up idle conversation with him. Though Nick was pleased with her being close by, he was now more interested in talking to Tyler. He wanted to find out what happened to Theo after they parted ways.
Except for some comments on planning the Thanksgiving dinner between the women, none of the men at the table said anything else during the meal, each caught in their own thoughts. Carlos sensed the uneasiness and remained quiet through most of the meal. Each one of these men were caught up in the past; not knowing how to bring up the conversation that troubled their minds.
It was not until the meal was over and the women removed the dishes from the table that Benito turned to Tyler and asked, "Tyler, do you remember living here?"
"No, sir, I don't," Tyler responded.
"Do you remember your father?" Benito asked him.
"No, sir. I don't ever remember meeting my father. It is my understanding now that Theo Gresco was my father. Is that true?" Tyler asked.
Through all this, Nick said nothing and simply listened to the conversation as he slowly realized that Tyler never met his father.
"Yes, Tyler, that is true. Your father was married to Sylvia Santiago, your mother. You were born while Theo was in the service," Benito said. Benito went on to tell Tyler the rest of the story.
When Theo returned from the military, he was wanted by both the FBI and a crime family for a double murder; a crime he did not commit. He moved Sylvia and Tyler out of Chicago to protect them from the law and any sort of mob retaliation. Sylvia changed her name back to Santiago, at Theo's request, and moved into a neighborhood where neighbors protected each other and did not trust outsiders.
"Why was he a wanted man?" asked Tyler.
"Because of me," Nick interrupted.
"What? What do you have to do with this?" Tyler asked him.
"The crime your father was accused of committing was committed by me. Your father was a suspect because they found out that the two men who died that night were the same two men who killed your grandfather," Nick responded.
Just then, there was a knock on the door.
Benito quickly got up and retrieved his shotgun as Sonia walked to the door and opened it; it was Davino Carmine.
"Hey everyone!" he said as he pushed his way past Sonia. "Why was the door locked?" he asked since it was normally never locked.
"We are in mixed company," responded Benito.
Carmine looked at those sitting at the table and then over at Benito. "Well, aren't you going to introduce me?"
Nick got up, walked over to him, and smiled with his hand outstretched. "You still look as ugly as the last time I saw you," Nick jested.
"Holy Mother of God, Nick… Nick Costello. I heard you were dead," Carmine said grabbing him and giving him a huge hug.
Though Nick was not the hugging type he responded accordingly, pleased to see Carmine was still alive and kicking.
Carmine then turned his eyes to Tyler. "And who might you be?" he asked.
"My name is Tyler."
"Pleased to meet you, Tyler. I'm Davino Carmine. But everyone calls me Carmine," he responded.
Maria handed Carmine a plate, and he was about to go eat in the kitchen when Benito asked him to join them in the conversation.
"Eat your food here at the table Carmine," Benito said.
"Sure. What’s going on?" Carmine asked.
"This here is Tyler Santiago," Benito said.
Carmine looked at Tyler, smiled and nodded. "Uh… Ok," Carmine responded between mouthfuls.
"Tyler is Theo's son," Benito said.
Carmine stopped with his mouth opened as it finally registered.
"What… Holy crap you're Theo's kid," Carmine said as he turned and looked at Nick and then back at Benito and Tyler.
"I just finished telling Tyler about his father, and Nick was about to tell him the rest of the story," Benito said.
Nick turned to Tyler and began to tell him his part in Theo's story. He went on to explain why Theo asked Sylvia to take Tyler to New York. Nick concluded with falsifying his own death so Theo would be free to go.
"I thought he would return to you and your mother when he thought I was dead. I forgot that Theo took things literally. He knew he would only bring harm to you and your mother if he returned," Nick finished.
Tyler was staring at Nick, caught in his thoughts of what had been said. Barely audible he whispered to himself, “I killed my father."
Everyone had heard what he said, but no one responded. They were all staring at him.
"What?" asked Nick.
Tyler turned to him and said, “I killed my father. I shot him twice and he fell into the East River."
"Why? Why would you shoot him? Who gave you a gun?" Nick asked as if Tyler was still a little boy.
"I'm a detective in New York City. I mean, I was a detective in New York City and I was protecting someone; someone my father was hired to kill," responded Tyler.
"You’re a cop?" asked Nick now wondering if he had just put his own freedom in jeopardy.
"No. Not anymore," Tyler responded.
"You shot Theo?" Carmine interjected.
"Yeah, he was shooting at me so I returned fire," Tyler responded.
"Let me tell you, if Theo was shooting at you, and you are here to tell us about it, it is because he wasn't aiming to hit you. Theo doesn't miss," Nick said rather proudly. "One more thing, if they didn't recover a body, then I'll bet one of Mrs. Randazzo's spaghetti meatballs Theo is running around somewhere right this moment," Nick added. "That guy has been through a lot worse than falling a few feet into a river with a couple of bullets in him. Trust me, he ain’t dead," Nick said with certainty.
Tyler stared at Nick and then around the room. He could see it in their eyes. It seemed that his father was some sort of a folk hero to these people.
"He's an assassin. A killer," Tyler said to them.
"Theo has never killed anyone that didn't deserve to die," Nick responded.
"But he's a killer. He has taken the law into his own hands," Tyler said aloud.
"Sometimes street justice is the only law some of the garbage Theo has eliminated understand," Benito said.
Those words struck a chord with Tyler. It brought him back to how he eliminated the Black Spades with his own brand of justice. It also brought him back to the day his uncle lay dying at his feet with his assailant just a few feet from them. How he took his uncle's gun and put two bullets into the man who had shot him and then put the gun back in his uncle's hand. It was street justice at its finest.
It was almost ten o'clock before Denise broke the silence with, "How about some strawberry shortcake and ice cream?"
Everyone looked up at Denise, and before anyone could respond, she placed the cake in the middle of the table. Caught in their own thoughts, everyone ate in silence enjoying the taste of their dessert.
"I got a plane to catch in a couple of days. I’m returning to California," Tyler said breaking the silence."Nick, what are you going to do?" Tyler went on.
"Don't know. Ain’t got any plans right now. Why, you inviting me to join you in California?" Nick asked him.
"Why not? I'm staying in a nice place out there, and it's definitely not as cold as Chicago is this time of the year. I would really like your company and I need to learn more about my father. You said you don't have any plans. Besides, the truth of the matter is, I got some things my father left for me to do that I think might be right up your alley," Tyler told Nick, trying to convince him.
It wasn't until later when Nick and Tyler were out in the hallway that Nick said to Tyler, "I'm kind of short on money right now and…"
"Hey, I'm inviting you. Don't worry about the airfare. I got you covered. Fact of the matter is my father left me with a few bucks that I'm sure he would want me to give you," Tyler responded.
"You sure about that?" Nick asked him again.
"Yeah, I'm sure," Tyler responded as he reached into his pocket, pul
led out a few hundred dollar bills and handed them over to Nick.
"Nick, I got a question for you," Tyler said.
"What is it?" Nick asked.
"How long were you in for?" Tyler asked Nick.
Nick stared at Tyler and then smiled.
"Twenty-two years. Just got out a few days ago," responded Nick.
"I figured you hadn't been out too long."
"How did you know?" Nick asked.
"Just knew by the way you acted. Kept quiet, hands by your side, jittery when someone passed behind you, eyes never settling on anyone in particular," Tyler responded.
"Yeah, I guess it will be some time before I get over it," Nick said.
"Don't think you ever get over it," Tyler said as he began to ascend the stairs.
As they reached the third floor, Tyler nodded to Nick and continued up.
"Good night, Tyler," Nick said as he walked down the hall to his apartment.
"Good night, Nick," Tyler responded making his way up to the fifth floor.
At around 11:00 p.m. Nick, not feeling at all sleepy and still enjoying his new freedom, got up to go for a walk in the brisk, cold Chicago weather. As he left the apartment, he heard someone downstairs in the lobby entering the building. Peering down the stairs, he could not see anyone but clearly heard someone talking on the first level. As he walked quietly down the stairs, the voices got louder. One of the voices he recognized as Denise Lazzaro. However, the other, a man's voice, he had not heard before.
"Why can't you go with me right now?" Nick heard the man say.
"I don't want to go with you. Leave me alone or I'll call the police," Denise responded.
"You bitch. You better come with me if you know what's good for you," the man continued to harass Denise.
As Nick descended the last stairway, he saw a man standing in the lobby facing Denise.
"Is there a problem?" Nick asked.
The man saw Nick, ignored his question, and turned back to Denise saying, "Mind your business, mister."
"But it is my business. Denise and I are going to be married some day. So you see, it is my business," Nick said as he stepped in between them. "If you got a problem with her, then you got a problem with me." Nick was now facing the man eye to eye.
"Man you are messing with the wrong person," the man told Nick.
At that point, Nick grabbed him by his lapel, shoved him against the wall, and held him there as he whispered into the guy’s ear, "Now you listen up you son-of-bitch. If I ever see you around here again, I will put a bullet in each of your legs before I put one in the middle of your fucking head. Do I make myself clear?" Nick pulled back and stared into the man’s eyes.
The man could see that Nick was not someone to mess with, as he stumbled towards the exit. Nick followed him and opened the door, shoving the man out onto the street. Nick heard him scream back when he was halfway down the block, telling Nick he had better watch his ass.
Nick closed the door and turned to face Denise."Uh… Sorry about that."
Denise walked up close to him."My hero," she said as she planted a kiss on his lips.
Nick was caught off guard. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gently pushed her away.
"You're welcome," Nick told her smiling as he looked into her eyes. "Who was that guy?" Nick asked.
"Just a guy, who won't leave me alone," Denise answered. "Were you going somewhere?" she asked him.
"Yeah, I was going for a walk," Nick responded.
"In this cold weather?"
"Sure, why not?" Nick replied.
"Mind if I join you?" Denise asked.
"Not at all."
Denise went back into her apartment and emerged a few seconds later wearing a black pea coat, a purple scarf and matching gloves. "Let's go," she said putting her arm through his as they stepped out into the night.
The Incident
New York City/November
Failing to eliminate his mark, Theo Gresco removed the suppression barrel from his M65 sniper rifle and tucked the weapon under his long black coat as he made his way toward the exit. A black beanie covered his head and ears. The black sunglasses he wore helped to minimize the glare of the snow. His beard made up the rest of his cover as he made his way down the stairway to the street below.
Three blocks north of the hospital, where at that very moment Felicia Giordano was hiding, Theo Gresco unknowingly began walking in the opposite direction of his prey. He hailed a cab and headed uptown where he had rented a room for a few days. His cab was moving gracefully through the late afternoon traffic, when suddenly it came to an abrupt halt. From a distance, he could see police lights blocking the traffic.
"What going on?" the cab driver asked in broken English.
Theo peered forward from the back of the cab, also wondering what caused the delay. Not liking the fact he was confined, his instincts kicked in. He paid the cabbie and decided to walk past whatever was going on and catch a cab on the other side. As he got closer to the police barricades, he could hear someone speaking through a megaphone.
"Put the gun down and let the hostages go," the voice ordered.
Avoiding any eye contact with the police officers who were blocking the crowd, Theo could see three men wearing ski masks. One of the men had a gun to a woman's head, his arm around her waist, as he shuffled back and forth.
"Get back or I'll shoot her!" the gunman screamed.
Theo was moving swiftly between the pedestrians, as he made his way east away from the crowd, when he heard a woman say that one of the gunmen had killed a bank teller and shot a child.
"Let the woman go and drop your weapons!" the megaphone screamed.
"No, you get me a fucking car, or I will splatter her head all over the streets! I got nothing to lose!" the gunman screeched.
"Sir, we don't have a clear shot," a SWAT team member told the police negotiator.
"Shit, this guy is going to kill her if we don't do what he says," he responded.
"Ok. Ok. We're getting you a car," responded the negotiator.
A few minutes later a car was made available.
"Leave the door open with the keys in the ignition," shouted one of the gunmen.
"We don't have a shot," the SWAT commander repeated.
No one heard the shot as all three men moved slowly toward the car. Suddenly, as if in slow motion, blood filled the air as the first gunman's head shattered in an arc of blood and brain matter. A second later, barely before the mind could comprehend what the eye had seen, another bullet penetrated the head of the gunman to the right of the man holding the hostage. In that instant, when all events seemed suspended and the awe of the onlookers transcended reality, it was over as a bullet grazed the hostage's right cheek finding its way to the gunman's eye.
"What the… Who gave the order to shoot?" screamed one of the senior officers on the scene.
"Who took the shot?" the commander screamed over the radio.
"No one, sir," was the response he got.
An eerie silence fell over the people as they saw the three assailants cut down.
"Oh, my God," someone in the crowd said.
Others turned away, and still others appeared as if transfixed to the scene before them.
"They got what they deserved," someone was heard saying.
No one noticed the lone figure in the long black coat disappearing into the subway system.
***
That evening, the events of the day completely monopolized television news and talk shows. Newspapers carried the gruesome details on page one with banner headlines praising the heroic SWAT team for the safe rescue of the hostage. This brought both criticism and praise from the public. The police themselves did not comment on what occurred, other than saying that the police action was justifiable.
Unknown to the media was the fact that it was not a police officer who brought the gunmen down, but a lone shooter. Whoever he was, he killed three men openly in front of hundreds of onlookers. This is
what concerned the police as they intensively searched the neighborhood, trying to pinpoint where the shooter had been. The governor and the mayor, as well as other law enforcement agencies, were notified of the situation; among them, the head of the OCTF, Captain John Connolly.
As Connolly examined the evidence presented, he saw a correlation between what had occurred and the release of Felicia Giordano. Whoever this person was, he was out there for another reason. John decided that since this was simply speculation on his part, there was no reason to share what he suspected - that the shooter was an assassin out to get Felicia Giordano. That Theo Gresco was back in town.
The Chicago Gathering
Chicago/November
Away from the main terminals at Midway Airport in Chicago, three private planes, which had arrived over the last four hours, sat waiting for a fourth coming in from New York City. At around 11:30 p.m., a small plane carrying the head of one of the most influential families in the history of organized crime arrived. As soon as the plane taxied alongside the other planes, the occupants disembarked and were immediately escorted by heavily armed men to one of four nearby black limousines.
Almost two hours later, the two armed men who were guarding the front gate to the Ruiziano Estate saw a string of cars heading in their direction.
"Hey, Charlie, check this out," the guard nudged his companion.
"Shit, man. Quick, call the house for backup," the other man said as he raised his shotgun towards the approaching limousines, which stopped within five feet of the gate.
Within seconds, three men were racing down the driveway with guns drawn, as the limousines remained stationed at the front gate. Each of the men took positions behind two cement columns, which flanked the gates. One of the men, the bravest of the four, stepped forward and shouted out, "Who are you and what do you want?"
One of the doors opened and Leo Russo stepped out.
"Ya know who I am?" he asked them.
Blinded by the headlights, the guard asked him to step away from the vehicle and into the light.
One of the guards recognized the man and questioned, “Mr. Russo, what's going on? Why are you here?"