Location is guarded by armed felons

     The  sign for the House of Venus gentleman's club was lit up by the rising sun as Matteo pulled into a

parking spot near the back of the club. The lot was deserted save for a couple other cars. Robert Carbone,

Bobby C, the boss of the Berardi Family, had an office in the back of the club. Officially he was on the 

clubs payroll as it's 'Entertainment director.'

        However most of the time he used it for meetings. Matteo, as a capo, had a key to the back entrance

where a hallway past the dancers dressing rooms led to his office. Matteo opened the door was his key and

sipping his coffee as he closed it behind him wondering why the hell Bobby had to meet with him so early.

The smell of the dancers perfumes, and other odors wafted through his nose as he came to the end of

the corridor to a door marked 'Manager,' and knocked twice loudly.

        'Come in.' He heard Bobby say from inside and he entered. 'Hey, Bobby.' Matteo said as he

went in and they embraced. Bobby C was just over 6 feet, two hundred forty pounds. He had salt and 

pepper hair, and today was wearing a black silk shirt, with a silver chain.

        Mike was seated in a chair next to Bobby's desk, 'Have a seat.' Bobby said gesturing to Matteo to a

chair next to Mike's. 'You boys did good down there in Florida.' He began. 'Real nice score. You and 

who was it, your friend Manny? Tied that pharmacist up in the motel room and after you robbed his

store?'

        'How'd you know that?' Mike asked. Bobby smiled, 'Well that's where we have our problem boys.

You see I don't know how, but that pharmacist must've heard you guys talking because he was able to

make out Manny's name. When the cops finally found him, he told them all he could remember. Then

one of the guests at the motel saw a couple guys in ski masks and guns coming out that night. Then, for

some reason, your boy Manny used his own car and this guest was able to make out the plate numbers.

As soon as Manny got back down there from up here, the local sheriff's department picked him up for

the robberies. Then the sheriff's department contacted the FBI when they found out Manny had ties to

organized crime groups up here so the FBI come down, figures this could be some kind of drug 

conspiracy with guys up here.'

        'Now I don't know if you guys know this but Manny's got a record, big one. Armed robberies, drug

dealing, domestic assault, you name it. And with this bad boy he's going away for a while, so it didn't

take long for Manny to make a deal with the Feds. But obviously they need evidence so they're plan is

to send him back up here, wire him up, and all he can from and Mike, and of course eventually lead it

all back to me and if that happens, your Father. They'll add on even more fucking chrages then he

already has.'

                Matteo yawned and his head started to droop, 'What am I boring you? Look the point of all

this is, sometime early this afternoon, Manny is going to call you Mike.' Bobby looked in Mike's

direction, 'And he going to want to hang out and get any and all information he can from you about

the pharmacist robbery down there, and anything else he can think of. But here's the thing, we know

about it first, we can do something about it.'

        Bobby gestured with his hands, 'You specifically, you too, will do this. Take care of it, get rid of

the evidence, I'm talking no trace fellas.'

        'Well, Bobby how do we know all this is true?' Mike asked. Bobby shook his head, 'Truth be

told son it really wouldn't matter if it were true or not. This is all straight from Matteo's father, Sal,

still technically the boss of this family. However, Sal doesn't contact me often, when he does he uses

the lawyer,' Bobby said with distaste. Sal couldn't meet face to face with Bobby and he didn't trust 

phones in any form, so he'd meet with with his lawyer, David Fineman, and tell him his orders that

the lawyer would then convey to Sal.

        'Look guys I know he's your friend, and what I'm asking you to do isn't a pleasant chore but it's

what I need you to do. Your father was very clear in his message, 'Tell my son to make sure this gets 

done.; Hell the lawyer even repeated it a couple times to me just to I'd understand. This guy could sink

us all fellas.'

                'Alright so I need the two of you to take care of this today, alright?' Bobby got up and Mike 

and Matteo started out of the room, 'Matteo hold up a second.' Bobby said , 'Want to talk to you for a

second. 'Ok. Matteo replied. 'I'll talk to you later Mike.'

        Mike waved and headed out of the office as Bobby and Matteo sat down. 'You think you're tired,

guess who woke me up at 4 in the fucking morning today?' He began. 'Steve?' Matteo asked. 'Oh yeah.

He call's me up, he's fucking hammered I mean going off. Big pity party, woe is me, he told me what

happened over at Eugene's, how Eugene called you and now you hate him. How he wasn't even really

saying that at Eugene's he was just saying if something like that had happened back then our reaction

would have been different.'

        'Then he started going on about the old times and I stopped him there. I told him I didn't want to

hear it, how I wasn't going to feel sorry for him when everything he complained about was his fault. I

told him he needed to get his shit together, get his own apartment, move out of your place, stop drinking

so damn much.'

        'Wow.' Matteo remarked. 'What did he say.' 'He actually took it well, he said he knows, he actually

has a place he was looking at, he's been saving up the money for it. And he said he'd work one the 

drinking.'

        Bobby held up his hands, 'Now the second part of what I'm going to say is gonna sound strange,

and I say this as someone who knows how annoying the guy would be. Christ, back when Carmine was

boss we'd send him out for stupid things, to just pick up money or something, and he'd get into a fight,

or say something, and the guy he was picking up money from would get pissed. Call Carmine to 

complain.'

        'Now, having said that, I want to say this, cut the guy a little slack. He's had real shit luck in his

life so far-'

        'Yeah, going to prison for that long-

                Bobby held up his hand, 'Yeah, it's that, but its a lot more than that. Carmine is 10 years older

than Steve, so Steve was always trying to prove something to his brother. He always wanted to be a

gangster. He did his first hit at 18, these two guy's who had hit one of Carmine's bars. Took them out to

the woods, blindfolded them, bam, two to the head. He acted like it didn't affect him, but he was always

a little different after that, meaner. He ended up getting made at 20 because he was so willing to do 

Carmine's dirty work. Matter of fact just before he got made, early 1980, Carmine finds out his 

goomar, Francesca, Dominican lady, nice. Anyway he finds out she's been talking to the FBI for

the past 6 months, waiting for Carmine to mess up, make a mistake. Who does he go to to take care

of this little problem, Steve? Cops never found the body. In fact, she' still listed as missing.

        'So he's a made guy at 20, 1980. One year later, 1981, get gets popped for a hijacking. Turns out

one of his pals in on it was an informant for the FBI. So he goes down hard, facing serious time. Of 

course, the FBI, they go in on him hard. He's the bosses brother for christsake, think of how valubale

he could be to them. They plead. His wife, Barbara, when she finds out the time he's facings, she 

pleads, tells him to think of their two children, Chris and Amy.'

            'Yeah, I remember them, kind of. They stayed with us for a couple months.' Matteo replied, the

recollection coming into his head.

        Bobby nodded, 'That's right, and I'll tell you about that in a minute. So she's begging him to take 

the deal and Steve says, no way. He's not gonna rat on his brother Carmine or anyone else in the family.

He tells Barbara, the family will take care of you and the kids, my brother will take care of you. And he

really believed it.'

        'Now, to this day, you've probably heard him Steve is all Carmine this Carmine that, but man,

Carmine, he didn't do nothing. He never really got along with Barbara so I don't know if that was the

issue, but in my opinion he really dropped the ball there. Barbara would come by the pool hall where

Carmine had his club, and he wouldn't even talk to her. Kept snubbing her. Finally, when all the bills

were long past due and the bank was going to take the house because Barbara couldn't keep up with

the payments, she went to your father Sal, and he helped her out, gave her the money for everything.'

        'I mean your father, he did everything for Barbara and those kids. Paid the bills, pick them up

from their practices and rehearsals. Meanwhile, Carmine, this great fucking guy who Steve went to

prison for 20 fucking years for? Nothing. Not a dime, not even a phone call to see how they were doing,

never sent anyone over there with anything, nothing.

        'Meanwhile, while, Sal was helping Barbara with the kids Barbara starts getting more and more 

crazy. Sleeping around with all of Steve's friends, or all that would sleep with her, some turned her

down. Then the drinking. I think something went off in her brain when she found out Steve was going

to jail for that long that never really reset itself. We didn't even know how much she was drinking until

one day, nice summer day she comes over to pick up Chris from his soccer practice. And she's fucking

hammered, falling down drunk. Some of the other parents tried to say something, but she was off as 

soon as she got Chris in the car.'

        'So she leaves she's all over the road, got a bottle of vodka right in the center console, and surprise

she gets pulled over. Get's arrested. Sal ended up having to bail her out, that's when Chris and Amy 

were staying with you guys. He paid big bucks to send Barbara to rehab out in California. Real nice

place. 90 days later she comes back, she better than ever, tells Sal she wants to focus on her kids and

her sobriety. Couple months later, bam, she's hitting the bottle worse than ever. He sends her back to

rehab, again pays her while way. This happens a few times, meanwhile, Sal still holds it down for 

Steve's kids and eventually they basically learn how to be independent themselves.'

            'But Barbara man, she could just never get right. After the she got out of rehab for the 4th time,

and relapsed again for the 4th time, Sal told her he'd had it. She'd been through the process enough 

times, and if she really wanted to get sober she would do it herself. He was done holding her hand. If

she really wanted to be a good mother to her kids she'd stop drinking. And that would be the condition

if she wanted to move back in with them.'

            'So she cursed him, called him a heartless asshole. And she ended up living on the street. Now

mind you, she could have gone home at any time, but that would mean giving up the bottle. They found

her in a doorway a few months after, hypothermia. This was around 1999. He got out in 2001. They

let Steve out to go to her funeral. Chris and Amy wouldn't even look at him, let alone talk to him. They

blamed him for their Mothers death. He hasn't seen or spoken to them since then. They both have good,

jobs, she's a surgeon he's some big shot lawyer in Manhattan. Six figures, they won't talk to him.'

                They both were silent for a moment. 'Damn.' Matteo said. 'Yup. You, Sal, Sharon, your the

only family he has. And for whatever else he is the man is loyal. Matter of fact, he can probably lend

you a hand with this Manny thing.'

            'Rule number 4, and this is important. If you have a car and use it a lot for your business, keep

product in it, you maintain that shit! Lights, windshield wipers, any kind of strange noise, I don't give a

fuck if it's the dashboard clock, you make sure all that shit is good because these motherfucking cops

love any chance they have to pull you over for that shit.'

        'Buddy of mine, Winslow, Mike Winslow, actually. We used to call him 'Slow,' on account of 

wasn't exactly all there all the time, this motherfucker is still in prison because of that shit. He had a 

busted tail light, he was going around town doing all kind of big deals driving around with that, I told

him, 'You better get that shit fixed nigga, they'll bust you for that.' He kept telling me, 'I know, I know.'

One night, he's leaving this big deal with these Colombians, got himself a couple kilos of pure, boom,

get pulled over for that shit, busted.'

            Jack was thinking of Eugene's rules of the game and that one in particular as he waited for the

cop to return to his car with his license and registration. It was quarter after 7 in the morning and he'd

almost made it off the exit ramp when the cop came up behind him and flashed his lights. He'd been

following him for a little while after Jack had come up on him where he'd been sitting under an 

overpass.

            He was returning from his third shift doing the overnight shift in the shipping department of 

Rustic candle, an hour away from Warner. He'd told Wild Card Sports bar that he could only work 

Saturday nights now. They had been fine with that because no one wanted to work Saturday night until

close.

            He had just finished a joint when he first spotted the cop under the bridge. He'd rolled down the 

windows, but even he could still smell the pungent odor. The cop had tailed him for a little while, Jack

always hated it when that, before turning on the blues. 

            He hadn't brought any weed just the 2 rolled joints. He usually smoked one on the way up and 

one on the way back. Jack didn't like to smoke too much during the shift because it made him tired. He

had a few percocets, vicodins, and adderalls but they were all in the trunk.

            His window was rolled down and he saw the cops slowly return with his license and registration

in his hand. 'You know you got a tail light out?' The cop said as he gave Jack back his documents. 'No,

really which one?' He replied.

        'Left side. Look I'm just going to give you a warning this time, but you need to get that fixed. Have

a good day sir.'

        'Thanks officer.' Jack replied. 'Trooper.' The cop replied sternly.

            'I told you man, you got to be on top of that shit.' Jack was in Eugene's kitchen having coffee.

'You was lucky he didn't say anything about the weed smell.' He took a sip of his coffee. After his 

interaction with the cop, Jack had gone to get gas when Eugene had called. They needed to talk, and

it wasn't something he could explain over the phone.

            Jack was already in Eugene's neighborhood when he got the call, sure, he'd replied, he'd be right

over. He'd been surprised because usually Eugene wasn't up this early but he explained he'd been 

having trouble sleeping lately.

            'So we might have a problem, my man.' He was leaning against the stove on the kitchen. 'And

that problems name is Steve Berardi.'

        Jack was sitting at the table. 'Who's he?' He asked Eugene. 'He's a motherfucking asshole that's

what he is. But seriously, he's Guy's uncle, he's got a really big mouth, always been that way, but we

might have a problem with him. He was over here last night, mouthing off, talking shit, saying he's 

going to retaliate against you for what happened to his nephew, talking about family honor and all that

bullshit.'

        'Oh shit.' Jack remarked. ''Oh shit' is right my guy. Anyway I told him in no uncertain terms if he's

got a problem with me, which means he's got a problem with Jamal. He didn't like that. Anyway I called

Matteo, his nephew, who's actually his capo. Told him how Steve was over here running his mouth,

what he said about going after you. He agreed with me that if Steve did anything he'd also have a 

problem with him.'

        Jack sipped his coffee, 'Well that's good right?' he asked. 'No, it is. And I don't doubt that what

Matteo said was true. It's just, this guy Steve, he's a little bit of a loose cannon. I've known this guy for

over 40 years, and he was fucked up back then. Always super obnoxious. But of course now, he's that

much older, has done 20 years in Federal prison, and crazier than ever. I mean this guy is dangerous

Jack, he's a real killer. At least 4 I've heard of before he went in and I'm sure he's gone a few since he's

gotten out.

        'Should I go to the cops?' Jack asked. Eugene raised his eyebrow, 'You serious man?' He asked. 

Jack shook his head, 'Yeah, nevermind, I smoked a joint on the way home.' 'Motherfucker, I hope so,

because you call the cops, tell them Steve Berardi is after you. Drop a dime on him to the cops and he

will absolutely kill you. Probably wouldn't even give a shit about the jail time. Put that idea out of your

head man.' Eugene explained.

        'So what should I do?' Jack asked. 'Keep to yourself I'd say. I'll send a couple of Jamal's people to

watch your house. The thing is, it's probably fine. Steve knows my people will take him out if he makes

a move on you. It sounds like it might even get him whacked by his own people if he does it, but like I 

said, this guy is dangerous. It would be a mistake to underestimate him.'

        'You got that job down there, keep doing that. Just keep to your routine. Don't worry about it too

much, because I got your back.'

        Jack got up, 'Thanks Eugene. Well, I got to head out, get some sleep.'

            'So how much longer to this guys, house? Manny asked Matteo, who was driving his Honda 

Civic with Mike in the front and Steve and Manny in the back. They were going out to a cabin Bobby

had out in the hill towns, he told Matteo he could use it for the hit. 

        'Were getting pretty close now.' Steve explained as Matteo made a hard right down the dirt road 

that led to Bobby's cabin. 

            Manny frowned but didn't say anything, this whole thing seemed off to him buy maybe he was

just paranoid. Steve turned to Manny, 'In fact you may as well give me the 300 for the piece now before

we park the car. This guy, he's a real nut, biker, Nazi asshole, if he even thinks we got someone waiting

in the car, he'll flip the fuck out, shit, might pull out a piece himself and try to take one of us out up 

there.'

            Steve could tell they were close by the road, 'Ok.' Manny said reluctantly, reaching into his

wallet and extracting the 3 bills and handing them to Steve. 

                Matteo rolled up the drive and parked 20 feet from the cabin, Steve put the bills in his pocket,

he didn't usually carry a wallet. 'So, what now?' Manny asked him. 'I just wait her-' the sound of the gun

shot was deafening as Steve casually pulled out his .38 pistol and shot Manny in the forehead.

           They were all silent for a moment as the smoke cleared. 'Jesus Steve!, right in my fucking

car!'

        'Hey miss you got a couple bucks you could spare for the bus?' The unkempt bearded man in

sweatpants asked her as she emerged from the Liquor Mart, she had her paper bag with a couple of 40's

and a couple nips in her hand, she moved faster as she approached the man, 'Sorry I don't.' She told him

as she walked past him and over to the the bus stop 30 feet away. 

               Alice had seen him on her way into the Liquor Mart but he hadn't said anything to her. He was

just kind of standing to the side of the walkway that led into the store, waiting for someone he could 

ask. There were several individual and groups of homeless people that hung out in the shopping Plaza

that the Stop 'N Save was in. Mostly she found them to be harmless, they sometimes hung out and got

drunk underneath an empty storefront, but something about this guy made her uneasy.

            She sat down at the far end of the bus stop, where she couldn't see the entrance to the liquor 

store where the man was still standing. She set the paper bag down between her legs and twisted open

one of the 40 once bottles of malt liquor she'd just purchased. She made a face a she took the first long

sip of the potent brew, she liked to have a bit of a buzz on her bus ride home sometimes. 

            Alice had gotten out of work a little after ten that night, and her whole shift she'd thought about

Kyle. They'd gone out to the House of Venus and then to his house on Thursday. She'd ended up waking

up around 8 to find him still sound asleep as she'd decided to walk and managed to stumble her way 

home.

            She had texted him before going into work at 3 on Friday, that she'd had a really good time the

other night, would he want to possibly hang out again? He'd replied he definitely would. In fact, if he

was up later tonight she should give him a call. He'd swing by and pick her up. That was when she'd 

remembered his scheme, the mysterious dealers in the woods, the potentially massive score.

            I think it comes at 10:45, she thought to herself as she took out her phone from the pocket

of her hoodie and checked the time, 10:15, just enough time to get a solid buzz, she thought. Kyle

had been enthusiastic when he'd last texted her, eager to show her the fruit of his adventure. So she'd

thought it was a little strange when she called him a 4 that night and go no response. The same thing

when she tried to text him.

        She opened the cap on her beer, lifted it  up and took another draw on the large bottle. It still tasted

horrible, but it went down smoother. She knew halfway through the second one it would taste like the

best thing on earth. It had been the same thing Saturday and Sunday, she'd called, texted, told him she'd

had a good time, still nothing.

            It seemed to her that if Kyle had made his big score, that he would be bragging about it. It 

already felt to her almost that he was boasting about it just talking about it in the restaurant. She

reached into her bag and took out a nip of Jim Beam, as she gulped it down she saw her bus emerge

from the end of the street.

        Unless, she thought, something went wrong up there.

'Where are you?' Roady texted his friend Tyler. It was a little past midnight and he'd been waiting for 

almost an hour. He was at a table at the Satellite bar working on his second 6 dollar Imperial Stout, 

wondering what was going on. He'd called Tyler when he'd left his house telling him he was on his

way but it was going to be a little longer because he was on foot.

        Roady had developed a habit lately of ignoring things he knew he shouldn't be ignoring, and such

had been the case with his van. It had been making all kind of strange noises, and having all kinds of

problems for weeks and he'd just kept putting them off. His wife, Sara, kept telling him to take it to his

mechanic, Gus, and he kept telling he was going to, until it finally broke down on the road. Had so 

many issues that were going to cost more than he had so he'd just said fuck it. Brought it to Gus who

scrapped it for 300 dollars. 

    He'd been sitting at home watching a movie wondering what he was going to do for money when

Tyler had called. Could he sell him an 8 ball? Sure, Roady had told him. He just had to put it together

and walk down.

        He scanned the crowd, about half a dozen people, no one he knew, thank god. He could remember

when he was first starting out with the Mariners, playing here. The Satellie only had an 60 person 

capacity and they would fill the whole place every show. Those had been heady times for him, more 

than a few times he'd had people tell him they were going to go all the way.

        He took a sip of his beer, now, he thought, I'm 42, got kicked out of the band I co-founded, and 

facing foreclosure on his house. It had all started 8 months ago when he'd gotten fired from the Warner

food co-op for stealing. He'd take home steaks, salmon, other meats and resell them to his drug 

customers.

            When his manager, Hal, found out after the person he was in on the operation ratted him out and

he realized this had probably been going on for a long time, he told Roady in the office that he was very

lucky the co-op was not pressing charges against him. However, they still banned him from the store,

which he found excessive.

        After that he was denied unemployment and everything just seemed to slowly start to collapse

around him. He started doing more coke, breaking into peoples houses to steal stuff he could sell, or

barter with Kyle for drugs.

            Roady finished off the rest of his beer and got up from his seat, I need some air. As he got up 

he saw a familiar figure approach from across the bar, 'Hey, man sorry I'm late.' Tyler as he walked

up and shook Roady's hand.

            'That ok man.' Roady replied, eager to be done with this deal and this night. 'You want to go

outside real quick?' Tyler proposed. 'Sure,' Roady replied, 'I wanted to get some air anyway.' He led

the way through the door that led to out of the bar, to the hallway which led to the stairs.

                'There a little alley a little ways outside.' Tyler said as they exited the building. 'Why don't we

go there?' He said, leading the way. The alley was about a block from the bar and Tyler stood at the 

end of it near a dumpster.

            Roady followed, reaching into his pocket for the bag. 'So do you have the money-' 'Don't 

fucking move, don't speak, do exactly as I say.' Roady felt the tip of the blade against his back and

saw Tyler backing away. 'I'm sorry man.' He said as he walked off.

        Roady couldn't see the man but he was right behind him, 'Take your wallet, the drugs, everything 

in your pocket, put it on top of that dumpster.' Roady did as he was told. 'Be cool man, you got every

thing from me now what more do you want?'

            'Shut up.' The man said, and led him deeper into the dark alley. 'What the hell do you want from

me man?' Roady asked as he led him further in. As a reply the man sank the knife deep into his back,

and Roady winced as he felt the blade go in. 

        'Your friends are dead. You fucked with the wrong guy.' The man said before slitting his throat.

After waiting a few minutes for Roady to die and the bleeding to stop, he dragged the body and propped

it up against the wall of the building, putting the cap he was wearing on top of his face to top it off.

Just another wino sleeping one off, the man thought.

            God this place is sketchy, Eddie thought. It was 2AM and he was waiting in the back of the

Warner municipal bus terminal for his 7AM greyhound bus to Miami. He'd taken tires he had at this

house and put them on Kyle's accord, switched the plates, and used it to drive down from his house in

the woods to Warner.

        He'd burned the bodies of Kyle and his brother in the firepit in his backyard. Then he'd gathered

together some cash from his safe, 20,000, as well as a couple credit card he had with the same amount

on them.

        Eddie had gotten into down at 2 that afternoon and tracking down Kyle's brother Jason who

hadn't gone on the doomed mission had been easy. He worked a 9-5 doing data entry as some office

so he'd simply waited in his apartment and shot him in the head when he came home. He'd felt bad

about it, in a way. Jason Popa was minimally involved in his brothers criminal activity, he simply had

the misfortune of knowing too much.

        Eddie had parked Kyle's car at the terminal, and he figured someone would discover it. They'd ask

questions, but it wouldn't give them many answers as to what had happened to him. Eddie had wiped

the car clean.

                He was sitting under the awning of the stop where the city buses came, his backpack beside

him. He hated the bus but it seemed far safer than an airplane, plus he had some friends down there,

connection he hadn't seen in a while.

        'Hey man, think you can spare some change?' Eddie didn't see the homeless man, who was now 

less than 5 feet away from him, he was pushing a shopping cart. Man, Eddie thought, caught me 

sleeping. 

            Eddie reached into his jacket pocket, 'Yeah man, I think I can help you out.' He said as he 

pulled out 3 hundred dollar bills and handed it to the man, who eyes lit up as he took it.

        'God bless you sir.' He said. 'You bet, have a good night.' Eddie replied.

`