Frank Brenalli was waiting in a vacant house puffing on a fat Cuban cigar. He was overweight, and sat with both elbows on the table examining the gold stuck to his fat fingers, every minute or so he impatiently glanced at his watch. Roy phoned him earlier with the news, Albert had found out what he was up to somehow. Frank immediately summoned Roy, and the imbecile Marcus to meet him in a vacant house, the perfect meeting place since it wasn’t bugged.
The front door slowly crept open, putting him slightly on edge, “Roy why the fuck you come in like that? You could’ve given me a heart attack you know.”
Roy didn’t bother closing the door behind him, “Sorry Frank,” Roy reached behind his back.
“Shit!” Frank made for his own gun, sitting uselessly on the middle of the table.
One shot echoed throughout the house, Roy walked over and pumped another two bullets without hesitation into his former boss’s chest. Just to be sure. He slammed the door behind him, sprinting by the for sale sign wedged into the front lawn. A dead body found in someone’s house was sure to drop the value, but then again, the family would probably purchase it anyway, for a bargain, as always.
The dark sedan parked alongside the footpath came to life, Marcus, the protégé of Roy was more than eager to get out of there. They just did something completely against the books, eliminated a superior.
“You do it?”
“Are you fucking crazy? What do you think I came running for?” Roy wiped the gun down, and placed it in the glove box.
“Can’t believe it,” Marcus still couldn’t figure out how Albert found out about Frank’s sly dealings.
“We got to get to the boss's, now,” Roy didn’t have a hint of nerves, so Marcus knew they were all good.
“You think he knows about us?”
“Marcus. If he knew we were dealing to, we would of wound up dead before Frank, I guarantee you, just drive will you, you’re talking to the new general now don’t forget. You’re going to be made soon,” Roy thumped him in the shoulder excitedly.
Marcus was ecstatic; finally a bump up from shit kicker, washing Frank’s laundry everyday was a maid’s job. They drove casually through a small suburb, ordering takeaway on their way to deliver the good news. This was the first time that either of them had formally been invited to Albert’s house; they were men on the rise.
They approached the long stretch of rural area just outside they city limits, Albert live in a massive multi million dollar three level house. Marcus slowed down as he approached the Watchtower at the bottom; a small concrete council approved building, fitted with security cameras, and spotlights.
An elder soldier sat in a chair in front of the building that opened the massive steel electronic gate; the only other way over the boundaries would be a very big ladder. They recognised Peter straight away; he was in his mid sixties, but still alert the old man was armed with a radio, sporting a velour tracksuit, and receding white hairline, sprung to his feet at the approach of the car.
Peter shone his torch in Marcus’s face when he pulled up alongside the watchtower to be let in.
“Boys,” the old soldier lowered the torch, and pressed his thumb into the side of the radio radio, “They’re here,” he spoke calmly, putting them at ease.
“Thanks Peter,” they watched as entered the small building, and disappeared, soon after the heavy gate started to slide open.
They drove along the winding driveway sheltered either side by thick trees and lampposts; each with cameras attached. There was no way off the drive way, making anyone coming or going the perfect candidates for an ambush, this put Roy on edge a little bit. He knew he wasn’t going to get whacked, especially after what they just done, but he’d set up so many hits before and knew how they went down. You’re supposed to feel comfortable and drop your guard; he couldn’t let his sudden case of nerves be visible to Marcus.
“Nice Place,” Roy pretended to be intrigued by the plant life they were passing through.
“Yeah, not really a surprise though.”
“Huh?” Roy questioned his underling in annoyance.
“He’s the boss,” Marcus shrugged his shoulders, his tone was bitter.
The driveway trip was a journey itself rising up level after level in the darkness; Marcus wondered how much the boss had spent on landscaping. Someone could live for a year off the money used for the trees here.
“Fuck. Now this is a surprise,” Marcus wound his window down; they reached the top of the driveway.
The three-story mansion was very modern; from the top-level balcony it would have an amazing view of the city. Spotlights near the house came on illuminating the area Roy and Marcus were, as soon as the vehicle began moving forward off the driveway. There was an actual car park with white lines and everything; the closest spot to the house had a sign up, ‘Reserved for the Boss’ there were four cars already parked in bays.
“Just park over there,” Roy pointed out a park under a lamppost not too far from Albert’s personal parking spot.
Marcus kept the car running until the front door to the house opened. The massive figure of Mike slowly walked out, climbing down the stairs he observed the entire car park despite seeing Roy and Marcus he wasn’t one to take chances, he had to make sure the place was clear before Albert made an appearance. He called out toward the house and Albert safely walked out dressed in a black robe with a glass of scotch in hand.
“Boss must be adding up his pennies,” Marcus laughed, as the boss approached sporting his reading glasses.
Roy didn’t answer he was already getting out the car to meet Albert and Mike half way.
“Stay there,” Roy called back at Marcus, just as his underling was taking off his seatbelt. The nerves that were creeping in early had grown stronger, so he decided to keep Marcus at a distance.
Marcus thought Roy was just getting a big head all of a sudden, seeing as he was about to get a promotion now Frank was gone, “Fine,” he muttered bitterly.
“Roy my boy,” Albert stepped forward and shook the soldiers hand.
“Boss,” Roy was expecting a hug, a sign that he moved up but there wasn’t one. He gave Mike a friendly nod, one that didn’t get returned.
“What do you know?” Albert knew not to ask things directly; too many people were wearing listening devices these days to worry about asking for details, although it wouldn’t matter with Roy soon anyway.
“It’s been done,” Roy was still in suspense waiting for Albert’s decision.
“Good, you know it’s sad that Frank had to go that way.”
“Yeah,” Roy decided not to elaborate, he couldn’t tell if Albert was fishing for information.
“Fucking drugs, I warned everyone not to do it,” Albert justified his decision to have the fat general killed.
“Whole crew of drug dealers,” Mike’s words were piercing, he spoke as if the crew didn’t exist anymore.
Albert’s eyes were no longer welcoming and Mike was clenching his fist. Roy took a small step backwards, nearly falling over.
“You think we wouldn’t find out?” Albert finished off his scotch, clearing his throat as it went down.
Mike’s attention seemed to be focused behind Roy, in the same direction of the car.
Roy looked over his shoulder to check on his protégé; Marcus was completely unaware that two men were creeping up behind the car carrying pistols attached with silencers.
“Marcus!” his warning was too late, the flashes went off and blood covered the windscreen from inside. The only gun the arriving pair had brought with them was in the glove box. Mike grabbed Roy from behind and forced him to his knees to await the arrival of the two men armed with silencers. Roy recognized them right away as Sin and Samuele, both Mario’s men. Sin raised his weapon to Roy’s head and squeezed the trigger.
Albert took a seat opposite Mike on a balcony on the third level overlooking the meticulous landscaping lit up by garden lights everywhere. Even the backyard was multi leveled with a big lagoon in the middle. Albert poured some scotch into two glasses and slid one across the glass table to Mike.
“I’m exhausted after today,” Albert admired his property through his reading glasses.
“It’s been a long one Al,” Mike sipped his drink, although he was a big guy he was not much of a drinker he only ever had a scotch or two with Albert and that was it.
“Drugs,” Albert stared down into his glass of scotch.
“Well it’s solved now Al,” Mike said, hopeful.
“Nah, Frank is just one schemer and besides, I’ve come to realize Chuck will always be looming over me if I let him live.”
Mike poured himself another drink, he was not used to seeing Frank like this, “What about the Koreans?” he asked.
“They’re okay, its our own kind that is the problem,” Albert pointed down at his backyard, “See all that?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s what it’s all about, I’ve got everything I ever wanted and now I just have to maintain it. I have the lifestyle, the materialistic things I always wanted, and now, my biggest fear is losing it all Mike.”
Mike nodded taking in every word his boss had to say, “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”
“It’s getting cold,” Albert rubbed his arms together.
Mike did not respond he immediately went inside and retrieved Albert’s heavy jacket, when he returned he could smell rain in the air, “They predicted storms Al.”
Albert put his jacket on and poured them both another scotch, “Yeah supposed to be heavy storms coming in all week, odd for winter time.”
“Global warming Al,” Mike looked up into the sky as a few drops of rain landed on the balcony.
Albert went silent thinking about his remaining generals Carl, Mario, and Benny. They were all old timers just like the late Frank, but he knew times were changing and so was the loyalty of some.
“Put a reminder to call Donny in the morning,” Albert told Mike sternly.
Mike withdrew a small pad and pencil from his pocket and scribbled down the order for the morning.
"Oh, and send Frank's wife some flowers."
A/N: What do you think of Albert's mansion?