Why I Hated The Guy From The FBI Ch. 16

Philip called his son's cell phone, and told him he could get the package. Frank took the box and carried it out of the building, as if it was a toothpick. Both men took a cab to Brooklyn, but not to their former home. They went to a nondescript building, within walking distance of Michael Montalbano luxury apartment. It would about a 650 meters from this vantage point. However, they would refine that down to the millimeter, before taking the fatal shots. Prior to opening the box, they covered themselves in blue hazard suits, and natural rubber gloves, that reached up to the elbows. When darkness fell, Frank, took a glasscutter, and made two 4-inch holes in adjacent windows, with views of the front of Montalbano's building. They set up their tripods nearly 8 feet back from these holes, and adjusted their weapons on them. They inserted the test gallium bullets, covered everything with camouflage nets, and reset the drapes. They were ready. The next part of their assignment was easy.

The funeral of Marco Mancuso looked like a scene out of the Godfather. Hearse's carrying flowers preceded the one carrying Marco's body. Eighteen limousines followed his remains, into the cemetery. Hundreds of cars followed the limousines. The police were powerless to stop the traffic jams that occurred on the streets, near the cemetery.

News crews were everywhere. Instead of calling this gigantic funeral, 'A Gathering of Mob Bosses', they called it a show of support for a 'Humble Man', who had given his life to save his employees. Front-page pictures on the following day's newspapers showed Anthony Caruso and Albert Di Angiola, holding Angelina Mancuso as she cried her heart out, during the service. Vincent Caruso and Frank Gennaro were holding Donna, as she cried for her father's return to life.

Sarah Appleby was there also. She did not understand why she was there, but she could not find it in herself to stay away.

Each story, in every newspaper, condemned the killing of this wonderful, caring man, who had been exonerated by Congress as being part of a criminal enterprise. All this man did was operate an honest business, and when gunmen tried to rob that business, all he cared about was his employees. The Cardinal ended the service by saying the words of his Lord and Savior, Jesus:Greater love hath no man than this, than a man lay down his life for his friends."

He walked around the casket, embraced Angelina, and expressed his condolences. He went to Donna and did the same. Then he walked away leaving the mourners, and the press behind.

Five days after the funeral, Tony Caruso called Michael Montalbano, and told him, that Rose and he were leaving for Milan, the following afternoon. If he wanted one of his men to watch him get onboard the aircraft, he was more than welcome to do so.

In this case, Montalbano did not trust anyone, but himself. He took two men, and went to the airport, with the Caruso's to watch them depart.

Prior to going through security, Tony said to him, "Remember, Michael, if anything happens to my son, or any member of his family, your life is mine."

"Tony, your son is as precious to me, as he is to you. My life depends on his health. Have a pleasant journey, and a long life in Milan."

"Goodbye, Michael, I will be watching you, with great interest."

Rose called Tony, because it was their turn to go through the metal detectors. He ran to her, and went through the detectors without any problem.

For the first time, since he ordered the assassination of Marco Mancuso, Michael Montalbano relaxed. Thanks to good fortune, and the fact that Tony lived in Milan and his son lived in Brooklyn, he was allowed to live. He did not know how Tony found out he was responsible for the murder of his brother-in-law. He probably had a snitch in his own organization. He would have to find out who it was, and get rid of him.

Several days later, Philip Gennaro walked into the union hall, with his son at his side. When his friends saw him, they yelled, "YOOO Phil!" He greeted each of them with a warm handshake, and a big smile. All the members knew Frank, and they greeted him the same way. They sat down and talked for a while, until John Campi came out of his office to find out what all the noise was about. Philip saw him, stood up, and went to greet him.

"Hello Mister Campi. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for the opportunity you, and our union gave me to retire so early in my career. My wife and I will be forever grateful for all your efforts on our behalf."

John Campi received this praise with great pride. He said, "Phil, it was an honor for our union to do it for our men, and for our men and women in the armed services. It has worked out well on both sides of the equation."

"I am glad to hear that Mister Campi. May my son and I take you to lunch? I heard something, when we were at a wedding, in Italy, that may be of interest to you, and one of your very, very good friends."

John Campi did not have many friends; and he definitely did not have many very, very good friends. He immediately thought of Michael Montalbano. He said, "Phil, I do not have a lot of time today; can we do this tomorrow?"

"I am sorry, John. Frank and I leave for Italy tonight at 11 PM. We can go down the block to Teresa's, if you would like. What I have to say will only take 10 minutes or less. It just has to be more private than here."

"Okay Phil, let's go."

Phil and Frank started yelling their goodbyes to the men sitting at their tables, waiting in the union hall for work assignments. Frank pushed a button on his cell phone, giving the signal to the Castronova brothers, who were waiting in their Ford Bronco.

As they left the union hall, Frank, took the inside position, his dad took the center, and John Campi was on the outside, by the street. They talked amiably as they walked, towards the restaurant.

The Ford Bronco drove slowly, down the street until it was 10 feet behind the three men. Roberto took his silenced, 9 mm Beretta, and fired three shots into John Campi's back, and one into his head. The car, increase speed slowly, merged into traffic and drove away.

John Campi fell to the floor and died instantly. Philip kneeled down to help the stricken man, and yelled for help. Frank, took out his cell phone and dialed 911 to advise them what had happened. They stayed on the scene, until the police arrived.

Frank was able to give a sketchy description, of the two Spanish looking males, who were driving the vehicle. He gave them the make, model, approximate year, colors of the Ford Bronco, and the first four numbers of the license plate.

The police knew they had an excellent eyewitness, because Frank was an ex-FBI agent, with excellent recall ability. They took him down to police headquarters and had him work with a sketch artist, in an attempt to refine the look of the two Spanish men, and to give his statement.

Philip told them he did not see the car, or its' occupants, because he felt John falling, and went to grab him. He heard no sound, so he did not look up to see if there was anything-suspicious going on. He said that he was taking his old boss to lunch, because of everything he had done for him, in the past. He was leaving for Milan in a few days, and did not know if he would have a chance to see him after today.

The Castronova's drove to the parking lot, by the Brooklyn docks, where they had borrowed a license plate from another vehicle. They replaced it, put the correct license plate on the Bronco, and returned the car to the rental agency. They returned to their hotel room, and made two phone calls. The first was to arrange escorts for the evening. The second was to arrange for a meeting, with the commission members, tomorrow, before they returned to Italy. It was scheduled for 11 AM. Then they cleaned up, watched a little television, and went to sleep. They wanted to be fresh for this evening's recreation. It was just another ordinary day.

Philip stood at the rangefinder, as Frank walked by the front of Michael Montalbano's building. Frank stopped to tie his shoe, stood up, and continued walking. 30 minutes later he was walking, in the opposite direction carrying a bag of groceries. As he approached the front of the building, he slowed, but did not stop. Philip marked the range, with his laser both times, and the difference was minute. The only thing they could not account for was the wind at a cross street. There were flags on top of the buildings, however, the winds between the buildings could be 15 to 20 knots faster, depending on the time of day, and the ground temperature. They would have to play that by ear.

At 10 o'clock, Frank took the first two-hour watch, and Philip tried to sleep. They rotated throughout the night and into the early morning.

Frank did not wake his dad up until 7:15 AM and Phil was furious. "I am not that old sonny. I can still outshoot you, at my age. You should have taken your rest, when your time came."

"I am counting on you to out-shooting me this morning, dad. That is why I let you sleep longer. If I miss, I know you will hit 'Center Max,' and he will be down for the count."

"Do not try to humor me, Frank. I am still pissed off at you."

"Okay, dad, be pissed off, but let's take our practice shots, while the traffic is still heavy."

15 feet past, and left of the entrance to Montalbano's building, was a wooden telephone pole. Each man made sure there were no civilians in their line of sight, and aimed at center of the pole, just to the left of the first climbing spike. Philip said, "On target."

Frank repeated, "On target."

When Philip said 'Fire', both men squeezed the trigger, and watched to see where their projectiles went. The bullets hit milliseconds apart, slightly high, and right of their expected positions.

Since both projectiles landed in the same area, they now factored in the wind component, and were ready to try it again.

"On target."

"On target."

"Fire." The men watched their projectiles hit the center of the pole, exactly at the level of the spike. They transitioned their guns to the exit area of Michael Montalbano's building, and covered them, with the camouflage netting. Now they had to wait until he exited the building to execute the man, who had ordered the unwarranted killing of a member of their "Family."

At 10A.M., the Castronova's left their hotel room, went to the lobby, and ordered a cab. When it arrived, they told the driver where to go, and told him the time they wanted to arrive at that location. They gave him a $100 bill and said, "Do not get there one minute early."

The driver looked at the bill and said, "Yes, Sirrrr." He started the most circuitous route for a 20-block trip he had ever driven.

At 10:20 AM, Michael Montalbano's limousine pulled up in front of his building. The driver got out, and opened the passenger side door.

Philip and Frank uncovered their rifles, and zeroed in on the pre-spotted firing point on the building. It approximated the descending trajectory the bullet would take through Montalbano's body. Philip said, "On target."

Frank repeated, "On target," and both men waited for the murderer to pass into their crosshairs. Seconds later, he did.

Philip said, "Fire."

Michael Montalbano's chest exploded on impact.

Philip and Frank did not look at their target. They turned and started packing the weapons in their original boxes. Frank made a phone call. He asked, "Is this the News Desk?"

Antonio Castronova said, "You have the wrong number." Michael Montalbano was dead.

Frank started helping his dad pack.

Once the rifles were secured, they packed the tripods and the scope, and sealed the box. They affixed the return label from the Museum of Natural History, to the supplier in Abilene, Kansas. They policed their brass, making sure to count all six expended cartridges, and put them into a small paper bag.

Frank took the two pieces of circular glass, placed 2 long pieces of clear tape over each of them; and placed them back in the windows they had been removed from.

Philip opened a large brown bag. He and Philip removed their masks, blue hazard suits, booties, and gloves. They put them in the large paper bag and sealed it with tape.

Philip opened the door, with a cloth, dropped it, and left the apartment carrying the large paper bag,10 minutes before Frank. Frank used the same cloth, opened the door, and left carrying the box with the rifles. He put the cloth in a trash bin at the corner of the street.

Philip walked to a local shopping center, put the bag into an ordinary trash bin, and walked away. He hailed a taxi, and went to the police department to help with the investigation into the murder of John Campi.

Frank asked a cab driver to take him to the nearest Federal Express office. When he arrived, he gave the driver $20 and told him to wait for him. He walked into the office, handed the box to the clerk, who examined the return label. The clerk said, "Thank you."

Frank walked out of the office, got into the cab and instructed to driver to go to the police department. He was going there to help them in the investigation of John Campi's death, also. He and his dad were model citizens.

The Castronova's were sitting in front of the commission, and waiting for them to start the proceedings. There were now two members missing, and calls to Michael Montalbano's private number were not being answered.

Antonio Castronova stood up and said, "Mister President, if you are holding up these proceedings for Mister Montalbano, he is no longer among the living. This morning, he paid for crime committed against my "Family."

Guns were immediately drawn, and pointed towards the brothers, by the other members of the commission, and the guards who were standing behind them.

Antonio said, "Gentleman, do not be foolish. Do you think I would do something, without good cause, and come here unprotected, to speak with you today. Like you I am a businessman, and I come to speak to you about business. I did not even speak to Anthony Caruso about this, because I knew he was retired, and no longer among our business acquaintances. The crime Michael committed was between my Family and Mister Mancuso. We had a marriage contract between Annarosa Caruso, and my son. Because Mister Mancuso is no longer with us, that contract is now null and void. $20 million changed hands, and as you well know, there will be no refund. My family was well within its rights to take his life, and now we take his territory, in exchange."

Three of the members of the commission said, "There is no way we are going to give you his territory, without a fight."

"You men are talking like our father's fathers. We have progressed from being cavemen to civilized men. We are now in business and I have come to offer you a business proposition. If you want to play with guns, I can bring in as many guns as you have. I would prefer to play with money. It is much less expensive, in the short run, and more enjoyable. Do you wish to hear my proposition or do you want me to leave?"

"Go ahead, Antonio, state your position."

Antonio sat down and pointed to Roberto, who stood up and took the floor. "Gentleman, I am the vice president of our bank. You will never find our family name on it, or any connection of our family. However, we own it, and use it as a piggy bank, you might say. Every transaction that occurs, we take 3%. You make a deposit, we take 3%. You make a withdrawal we take 3%. The customer never notices it, because it is all hidden in the fees. If it is a large customer, and he complains, his family gets a visit, and the complaining stops. If it's another bank, and it complains, that bank gets robbed and the complaining stops. It is a marvelous way to do business. One of our largest customers is the city of Milan, and they never complain. They were so indebted to my father, and now to Antonio, because of our patronage, they look the other way, whenever someone complains. We do not have one set of books, we have no books. If we find an audit is coming, that is when we make up our books. The Italian government is a useless thing. It is a joke, even among other nations. Every time there is a crime, they say it is "La Cosa Nostra," and they look toward Sicily. We happily contribute funds to the Federal agencies, in their attempt to capture those criminals. They have been trying to close them down, for over 100 years, and they will continue trying for the next 100 years. We will help them any way we can.

As to our move to the United States, we tried with Mister Caruso's help to move cocaine, using olive oil as a screening agent. It worked masterfully, except one pallet was misplaced, and spoiled a multibillion-dollar chance for all of us to profit. The first shipment was an experiment. It was to see if we could do it, and if we had a mole amongst us. We did it, and we found a mole. The mole is dead, and we still almost got away with it. They had 460 officers, plus dogs checking every square inch of the ship and the docks, for 14 hours. They did not find a thing. It is unfortunate, but we cannot do that again. However, we will find another way, but now we have another way to launder the money we make.

Marco Mancuso's territory is mine. Also, I am going to buy the Concrete Company from his heirs. It will be in my name, because I will come up clean, on any background check. We want a seat on this board of directors; that is not negotiable. If you want to use my company as your bank, I will give you a discount, depending on the volume of goods and services you pass through it.

As far as Montalbano's property, I suggest it be broken up between our families. If a Family does not want a piece of that property, another Family can buy it, at a reasonable cost and on reasonable terms.

My brother, Philip, is not part of our organization. Never talk to him about our business. He will never testify against a member of our Family. However, if you or any member of your Family's, threaten a member of our Family, he will turn on you like a rabid dog. Keep him out of the loop at all times. He has more money than all of us and all of our organizations combined. Do not fuck with him, or your position will be reversed.

All other technical questions can be taken care of by our attorneys, unless you have any questions for me, now."

"What made you think you were going to walk out of this building alive?"

"We had no preconceived notions that we would. However, there are 16 guns outside waiting to find out the answer to that question. If we do not walk out of here, 1 PM, this building will be attacked, and no one will leave here alive. There are also men at each of your households. Upon receiving word that we did not survive, your family's lives would be forfeit. Gentlemen, it is the Italian way. You cannot allow a son to live to revenge his father's death. In this day and age, sometimes a daughter is worse than the son. She must be eliminated, also. It is an ugly thing, but it is the only safe way to keep a Family safe."

The men seated around the table said, "We have been away from Italy too long. Roberto has the right attitude. We will learn, or remember many things from him. Welcome to our Family Roberto. Welcome to our Family, Antonio. May we all prosper and live together in harmony."

"Thank you, gentlemen, however, it is 12:40, and just to be safe, I think Roberto and I should be leaving."

"I believe that's an excellent idea, Antonio. Will you be staying in the states, or going back to Italy?"

"I will be going back tomorrow. Roberto will be staying to wrap up purchasing the concrete business from Mrs. Mancuso. As soon as he has a caretaker operating the business efficiently, he will come home, and establish some guidelines for the bank. At that point, he will return to New York, and operate the system from this end."