Part 26

From the Story Arc: Changes

Previous Story in the Arc: Part 25 by Khrushchev (Monday, April 11, 2005)

Next Story in the Arc: Part 27 by Khrushchev (Monday, April 18, 2005)

(posted Wednesday, April 13, 2005)


Independence Port, the back bone of the blue collar worker in Paragon City. Its outer banks lined with mills, shipping and storage warehouses and large tankers at every dock. All of this under one control, the family and not just any family but the Cappo’s. Giving the true meaning to the mob they ran everything, nothing went through their docks with out their say. They fit the part all right from the black jackets, tight suit pants and the hats, what every television mob show stereotyped they were. Phrases of “Forget about it” and “Come on” and “How you do’in” could be heard on a regular basis no matter what was being discussed.

I flew in quietly with Quantum flight, its speed got me where I needed to go fast and it hid me from view as if I were just a passing fog. Just some twenty five yards above my meeting point and already I was having problems. Groups of six Cappo’s including a Boss were lurking on the roof top performing what they would call an exchange of ideas. Money changing hands along with new products to the streets was more like it, I figured it was as good of a time as any to pay a visit. Plus I didn’t want Khrushchev to think this was a set up.

I hovered down and landed on the farthest side of the roof. It wasn’t large just the top of an old apartment building, closed for renovation. I stepped up to the top of one of the outer ducts, the aluminum was weak and buckled under my weight. I had made my presence felt. “Hey there my fellow pizzan's, what are we all doing on a lovely day like this?” They all stopped what they were doing including the boss who took his cigar out of his mouth. He reminded me of Fat Tony form the Simpson’s, kind of dumpy but still a large man, he talked like him too.

“Take a look at this guy, I believe you have landed on the wrong building, and you will have to pay a fee”. The rest stood with there hands crossed over there waist there heads titled sideways just slightly as they stared and laughed at me.

“A fee?”

“Yes a fee, because you see if I don’t charge you then my wife will hound me with, where’s the money, when are going to get the money and so forth”. I backed slowly and was about to make my getaway when I saw him raise his hands in the air. Out of no where a large metal safe formed above him which he then propelled towards me a t an alarming rate which sent me flying to the other side of the roof top. I now was laying under a billboard for an injury lawyer ‘Hurt, being treated unfairly then call me Vinny Palmeri’. How appropriate I thought as laid there, he grabbed me by my shirt and brought me up. “I see you have found yourself a lawyer, which is my cousin Vinny”.

I managed to laugh between the stabbing pains in my chest from where I was hit, “My Cousin Vinny, that’s funny”.

“How so?” he looked at me puzzled.

“You know it is possible that the two utes...” I tried doing my best Joe Pesci imitation but he wasn’t buying it.

“Ah, the two what? Uh... uh, what was that word?”

“Never mind”

“Plus you won’t be needing a lawyer” he said as he turned me towards the roof tops edge. He pointed across the street to the opposing ad which read ‘Sal’s Mortuary you kill’m we chill’m’.

“Great” I said in my most sarcastic tone as he pressed me closer to the edge. A sudden thud on the roof behind us indicated we now had company. Khrushchev’s four hundred pound frame made him difficult to conceal his arrival. He crouched on one knee his arms extended out wide and the giant assault rifle stretched out almost touching the surface below it. He stood up and sun reflected off his metal body making it difficult to see him. When he stepped forward into the shadows of the sign the red lights of his mechanical eyes would glow and pierce through your soul.

“Oh Mr. Khrushchev, I didn’t realize you would be joining us, is this a friend of yours? He let me go as he fixed my clothes and stepped away, “we will be going now, and we don’t need any trouble”. He motioned for the rest to go with him as they made their way down the fire escape.

I watched them leave in their black limousines and drove off and around the corner. “They will be back and with more numbers, we must go” Khrushchev spoke, I nodded in agreement and we left, he suggested a new place, Perez Park near the lake, quiet and free of people.

To be continued…