The Legacy of the Assassin

by Tony Bertot

  Though they knew who Mr. Leo Russo was, there was no logical reason for him to be there at this time of morning without advance notice of his arrival.

  Then a second door to the limousine opened and out stepped Felicia Giordano. "It's fucking cold out here. Open the damn gates before I get frostbite," she ordered.

  The guards could not believe their eyes. All of them recognized her immediately.

  "Holy shit, its Felicia Giordano," one of the guards hissed as he rushed to open the gate. Another of the guards raced back up the driveway ahead of the incoming limousines to let his boss know he had unexpected company.

  Two minutes later, there was a heavy knock on Luis Ruiziano's bedroom door.

  "What the hell. Who's there? You better have a damn good reason to wake me up," he said as one of his guards entered the room.

  "Mr. Ruiziano, it's Miss Giordano," he stuttered.

  "What about her?" Ruiziano asked, irritated by the interruption.

  "She… She's downstairs along with about six other bosses," he told Ruiziano.

  "What? Felicia Giordano is here? Are you sure it's her?" Ruiziano asked.

  "Yeah boss, it's her," the guard responded.

  "Wake up everybody. Get some coffee and breakfast started right away. Tell them I'll be right down," Ruiziano ordered.

  Panic gripped Ruiziano as he hurriedly put on his clothes. He grabbed a pistol from the nightstand and placed it in the small of his back. After a second thought, he withdrew the weapon and placed it back on the nightstand. He started to walk out of the room, paused, then once again retrieved the weapon and placed it in the back of his pants, hidden by the jacket he put over it.

  "Oh God, why is she here? Oh God, what should I do?" he thought to himself as he descended the stairway.

  As he stepped into the living room, he almost gagged when he saw the leaders of the top six families in the United States turning to face him. Along the wall stood several armed men, obviously members of these organizations. In the middle was Felicia Giordano who stood there smiling at him.

  "Mr. Ruiziano. It has been too long. How are you?" Felicia said to him, extending her hand.

  "Miss Giordano. I am so glad to see you up and about. Please… Please sit down. You must be tired from your trip," Ruiziano told her as he took her hand.

  "I'm fine, thank you," Felicia responded. "This is a fine place you have here. Do you have a room available that is away from prying eyes and ears?" she asked him.

  "Yes, of course," Ruiziano responded as he led her and those accompanying her to another room on the other side of the house.

  The room was huge and the table in the middle of the room could easily accommodate over twenty guests.

  "This will do fine," Felicia responded.

  Within minutes, and before Felicia started the meeting, hot coffee along with a hot breakfast was served to all the guests.

  As they satisfied their appetite and took a moment to relax, Felicia thanked them all for coming at such short notice. She made small talk about the freezing weather in Chicago compared with New York City. Everyone burst out laughing when one of the San Francisco bosses commented about how he would probably not see certain parts of his body until the spring thaw.

  Though Felicia was technically not in charge of any of these crime families, she had earned a status unlike any other crime boss. They were here out of respect for both her and her family, for what they had accomplished during their reign. She was both highly respected and equally feared.

  "Gentlemen, I have asked all of you to meet with me here in Chicago for several reasons. First, I did not want the media or the curious looking over our shoulders. The other reason is that my man, Leo Russo, has informed me that Mr. Ruiziano is in possession of information that will shed some light on why my brother and I were targeted." Felicia turned and looked at Ruiziano. "Mr. Ruiziano is this true? Do have information that you would like to share with us?" Felicia asked him.

  "Miss Giordano, you have no idea how much this saddens me. It appears that our procedure for contacting the assassin for the purpose of issuing a hit has been compromised. Several weeks after you were shot, the assassin called me demanding payment. I told him he was out of his mind. I did not order any hit. In spite of my protest to this allegation, he insisted and said he would be calling me back. I swear, on my mother's grave, it was not me. Though I started an investigation, I cannot go further until the assassin calls me again, as I do not know when it was that he was originally contacted. If I can obtain that information, we can narrow the search down to who was here when the call was made," Ruiziano told Felicia.

  There was a dead silence in the room. No one said anything; all eyes were on Felicia.

  "So I guess we can assume there is a spy in your organization," Felicia said.

  "Sadly, yes. I believe that is true," Ruiziano responded.

  "Luis, I do trust you had nothing to do with this. I will need a list of all your men, regardless of whether they have access to the location of the phone or not. Next, I want you to tell the assassin, when next he calls, that I want him to call me. Do you understand?" Felicia asked Ruiziano.

  "Yes, ma'am, I understand," Ruiziano told her.

  "Mr. Ruiziano, do you have enough room to accommodate all of us who have come unexpectedly to visit you?" Felicia asked him smiling.

  "Yes, ma'am. We have five unoccupied bedrooms with extra mattresses, if some don't mind sleeping on the floor," Ruiziano responded.

  Felicia looked around the room. "Well, gentlemen, do you want to stay here tonight, or venture out into the freezing cold," she asked the men around the table.

  They laughed at the prospect of sharing rooms with each other.

  "I suggest that each of you leave your guns, and any other weapons you might be carrying, downstairs in your coats. We don't want anyone shooting anyone else in the middle of the night because someone snored too loudly," Felicia said smiling.

  They smiled in return, but felt immediate discomfort at being removed from their only equalizers and decision makers.

  With that said, they all retired to separate rooms. Ruiziano, Leo, and two of her men escorted Felicia to an awaiting room. The two men positioned themselves outside the room as Leo and Ruiziano accompanied her inside.

  "Ruiziano, don't worry. We'll find who it was that betrayed us and I will hand him over to you to eliminate. Is that ok with you?" Felicia appealed.

  "Yes. Thank you, Miss Giordano," Ruiziano said.

  "Please, call me Felicia. All of my friends call me by my first name. Now please leave us as I have much to say to Leo," Felicia said.

  "Good night eh... Felicia," Ruiziano said now feeling the weight lift from his shoulders as he left the room.

  "Leo, I need you to do me a huge favor," Felicia said.

  "What is it Felicia?" he asked her.

  "Call him and ask to meet with me at our Hampton location," Felicia said as she handed Leo a piece of paper with a 716 area code phone number and the name Ted Skowronski written on it.

  Theodore Skowronski

  November/Cheektowaga NY

  During World War II, the United States enlisted the aid of entire families to spy for them during trips to foreign countries. In the beginning, their assignments were simple and could range from carrying a message to an underground location, to saying something publicly that would mislead the enemy, or just leaving a personal letter in a public place, which would contain falsified information on troop movement. As the war progressed, the assignments became more bold and gruesome; with some family members hired to actually kill or permanently disable anyone suspected of betraying the United States. Of all the families contracted by the United States to carry out these assignments, none were as deadly, or as conniving as the Skowronski crime family from Cheektowaga, New York.

  While in Poland, Fazio Giordano saved the life of Theodore Skowronski, who had just slain a German general. The Nazis launched an intensive search for the assailant. However, Fazio, an It
alian soldier the Germans trusted, vouched for Skowronski. The two men became comrades in arms, and though it would be many years before they ever saw each other again, they vowed to remain friends. Both men returned to the United States, took different paths and lived far apart, but they still enjoyed a lasting friendship.

  In later years, as Felicia took more and more control of the Giordano Empire, her father took her aside and told her the story of Theodore Skowronski. He concluded the tale with, "If you ever find yourself in a bind, give him a call."

  At 4:00 a.m., the phone at the residence of Theodore (Ted) Skowronski rang three times before his wife Lori picked it up.

  "Hello?" answered Lori.

  "My name is Leo Russo and I am calling to speak to a Mr. Theodore Skowronski," the voice said.

  "What? Oh. Ok, hold on. Ted, it's for you," Lori told her husband, who was lying next to her.

  "Who is it?" he asked her, irritated that he had been awakened.

  "I don't know. Some guy," Lori answered.

  "Hello, who is this?" Theodore asked.

  "My name is Leo Russo and I am calling on behalf of Miss Felicia Giordano," the voice said.

  There was a moment of silence as Theodore composed himself.

  "Yeah, what about her?" Theodore said.

  "She would like to invite you and your family to her Hampton estate for Thanksgiving," Leo said.

  Again, there was silence.

  "You tell her I'll be there, alone. By the way, next time call me at a more reasonable hour. Nothing is so important it can't wait till morning." Theodore commented, slightly annoyed.

  "Sorry, just following orders," Leo responded.

  "Ok, see you next week," Theodore said and hung up the phone.

  "Who was it Ted?" Lori asked him.

  "Got a job to do for an old friend," Ted responded as he rolled over and went back to sleep.

  However, sleep did not come as easily to Lori. She remembered what it was like when they would go away, and she and the other wives would cover for the men while they completed assignments, about which no one ever spoke. She remembered that once, one of the men was killed. It was then that she realized how dangerous the job really was.

  Lori had once begged her husband not to go, but it was their duty, and so she decided it was best not to interfere. However, she did not understand why her husband and the other men had continued their covert activities after the war was over. Simply put, they had become guns for hire by anyone inclined to pay the kind of money for which men are willing to kill; all to secure a positive future.

  Having invested the money wisely, Lori’s husband, Ted, had more than enough to retire, if he so chose. It was this call that became the catalyst for her to help him end this way of life once and for all. They had their future before them. She would make sure he was there to enjoy it with her, if it was the last thing she did.

  Tracking Tyler

  California/November

  Arriving late in San Francisco, both Sheila and Sam stayed at a nearby hotel. They got up early the next day and had breakfast in a nearby restaurant before renting a car and driving the seven miles to Oceanside Drive in Daly City. The weather was pleasant and both enjoyed the drive. It was around 9:00 a.m. when they arrived at the address they had been given by David Spencer.

  "Man, this is quite nice," commented Sam.

  "Yeah, it sure is," responded Sheila as they made their way to the front door.

  Sheila rang the bell and waited. A few seconds later, she rang the bell again followed by three knocks. There was no response.

  "Dammit! Are you sure this is the place?" Sheila asked Sam.

  "Yeah, this is the place," Sam responded.

  "Let's check next door. See if anyone recognizes Tyler," Sam suggested.

  Reaching into her briefcase Sheila pulled out several pictures. Placing the one of Tyler on top, she headed to the nearest house on the right while Sam went in the opposite direction. After several knocks, a woman came to the door.

  "Can I help you?" she asked through a screen door.

  "Good morning, ma'am. Can you tell me if you have seen this man?" Sheila asked her as she showed Tyler's picture through the screen door.

  "Who's asking?" the woman responded.

  Sheila pulled out her badge and said, "FBI, ma’am."

  "Oh my God, Uh... Yes, he is staying next door in Mr. JackFerrari's house," the woman said.

  Sheila went through the pictures and pulled out the one of Theo Gresco. "Is this Jack Ferrari?"

  "Why yes, that's him alright. Real nice man. He's not in any trouble, is he?" the woman asked in a concerned voice.

  "No, ma’am, we just want to ask him a couple of questions," Sheila lied. "Ma’am, can I trouble you to call my number if you see either of these men again?" Sheila asked, handing the woman her card through a slit in the screen door.

  "Sure! No problem. Always willing to help our law enforcement," she responded with a smile.

  As Sheila retreated down the walkway, she saw Sam heading in her direction. "Any luck?" he asked her.

  "Yeah, seems like Tyler has taken residence in Theo Gresco's house," Sheila responded.

  "Yeah, the neighbor I talked to did not recognize Tyler but knew Mr. Gresco as Jack Ferrari," Sam said. "Now what?"

  "We can't go in there without a warrant and we probably don't have enough to get one," Sheila said.

  "Let's find a phone and see what the captain has to say," Sam recommended.

  Driving about a mile from the location, they found a phone and called their captain. After explaining the situation, the captain asked if the woman had positively identified Theo Gresco as the occupant of the house next door. With that information, the captain felt it was more than enough to get a warrant, and told them to return to the house and he would see to it that someone brought it to them.

  Almost two hours later, two police cars arrived with the warrant. After examining it, Sheila nodded to the police officers. Unholstering their weapons, two of the police officers headed for the front door while two others went around back. Sheila quietly picked the lock, and a few seconds later they were inside.

  Slowly and meticulously, they searched the house. One of the officers found the closet safe. The other found a piece of paper with a four-digit number scribbled on it and a date and time.

  "What do you make of it?" the officer asked Sheila.

  "It looks like a flight number. Maybe he took a plane somewhere," Sheila responded.

  "I'll check it out," the officer told Sheila as he headed to the phone.

  "Should I call a locksmith to break into the safe?" one of the officers asked Sam.

  "No, as much as I would love to. The warrant only covers the apprehension of the suspect, Theo Gresco, and whatever information is visible to the eye without disturbing anything. We just don't have enough to go any further. Unfortunately, we are already walking on thin ice by going on the information provided by the woman next door who, for all intents and purposes, could be as blind as a bat," Sam responded.

  A few seconds later, the officer who had called the airport brought news that the numbers they found were indeed for a flight. He reported that the flight was to Chicago but that no one by the name of Jack Ferrari, Theo Gresco, or Nick Costello was on it.

  "Wait, how about Tyler Santiago?" Sheila asked.

  The officer nodded and went back to the phone. A few minutes later, he returned with an affirming smile on his face. "Yes, ma’am. A Mr. Tyler Santiago flew to Midway Airport on that day," he said.

  Both Sheila and Sam looked at each and almost simultaneously said, "He's tracking his father." The officers stared at them in confusion.

  "We need to replace everything as it was," Sam said.

  "Should we post a car outside?" one of the officers asked.

  "No. However, can you ask your captain if he could arrange to have a patrol car drive by at least twice a night and let us know if they see any activity in the house?" Sheila asked.

 
"I am sure that won't be a problem, ma’am," the officer answered.

  "Ok, guys, we are done here," Sam said as he led everyone out of the house.

  Shaking hands with the officers, and thanking them for their support and cooperation, Sam and Sheila headed back to the hotel to check out and catch the next plane to Chicago.

  Close Call

  Chicago

  After some careful planning, Kathy and Tom had decided they would use Thanksgiving as the opportunity to get away. They would have more than four days to cover their tracks before anyone became the wiser. Kathy had already booked a rental car, which they were planning to use to drive 186 miles to the Indianapolis International Airport where they would catch a flight to New Jersey. Tom wanted to take revenge by poisoning as many members of the Ruiziano crime family as possible, but Kathy talked him out of it.

  "It's that bitch, Felicia, and her lieutenants that we should be concentrating on. They're the ones that poisoned everyone at La Ristorante," she said.

  "OK, you're right," Tom said.

  "They'll think we are in hiding, when in fact we'll be going after them. Something they would never expect," Tom added.

  Just then, the phone rang and Kathy picked it up."Hello? Yeah, hold on," Kathy said into the mouthpiece and handed the phone to Tom.

  "Yeah, what's going on?" Tom listened to the person on the other end of the phone. "You sure that's what the boss wants?” Before hanging up, Tom told the caller, "Yeah, no problem. I'll be there within the half hour."

  "What's going on?" Kathy asked him.

  "The boss wants everyone up at the house for a big meeting."

  She looked at him and could see the concern in his face. "What are you thinking?" she asked him.

  "I don't know," Tom said, somewhat worried that his cover might have been blown. "I'll call you and let you know what's happening," he told her as he headed for the door.

  "Wait. Take your gun," she told him.

  He stared at her, realizing he may never see her again. He walked over to her and gave her a long kiss.

  "Why don't we get out of here, right now?" Kathy said pleading with him.