|Lower East Side Friends....Assemble!!!! - [ Recruitment ] -
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|Author:||Anthony DeCarlo [ Fri Apr 28, 2006 1:42 am ]|
|Post subject:||Lower East Side Friends....Assemble!!!! - [ Recruitment ] -|
Stepping out of the Ristorante, into the cool, chill wind of The Lower East Side, I felt a wave of ambition flowing through my stale viens. Every since my incarseration many months ago I have been aching to get back in the game. Not that I was out, and Quiet Dom and I had just aqcuired a small base of operations, it was time to step into another venture. Just like any corporation or business that looked to build itself up, you needed the right personell, the right "muscle" so to speak. A small advantage to us, would be that most of our connections before I went to the can would still be in tact.
Shoving the keys roughly into the Mustang's ignition, I turned the dial and revved the engine of the superbly built vehicle. The vibrations that shot thorugh the car body as the gas pedal was pushed down, the feeling of power at my finger tips was almost enough to make me want to shout. Too bad it wasn't even my car, it was Dom's and I was just barrowing it to run some quick errands. I shot the Mustang into reverse and half fish - tailed out of the parking lot, only to come to an almost complete stop in traffic that was so common among large cities like the one I was in. It was a shame, so much horse power, and no room to gallop.
After several minutes of driving, if you could call it that; it was more like stop, then go, the get cut off by an angry taxi, I had finally arrived at my first destination. The place was an old theatre a only a few blocks away from where the restuarant was located. The threatre ahd been renovated and turned in to a small warehouse, in which a good friend of ours, Carmine Marino, used to run his rackets out of. Back in the days of our prime, when I was still running collections for "The Chin", Carmine had assisted me in running a small crew. Carmine "Furs" Marino wasbest known for his black market goods, expensive goods that he would sell for an exceptionally cheap price out of his warehouse in The Lower East Side. He was nicknamed "Furs" because it was said that he sold so many expensive, yet stolen at one time, fur coats that other legitatimate stores stopped trying to sell them altogether. He monopolized the sur coat business, which all of the old crew had found amusing back in the day.
Other than his ability to sell fur coats and make more than a quick buck, Carmine controlled quite a bit of a "workforce", the remnants of the old Family, most of which stayed under his wing and continued working for him. The King of Fur Coats did in fact control some sort of muscle. It was also said that if you rubbed him the wrong way, he'd turn you into one of his fur coats himself. This kind of reputation, this kind of muscle, this workforce, this is what was needed to protect the interests of our business.
The bright, sinking sun reflected off the mirrored lens of my nearly out of date Aviator style sunglasses as I headed towards the entrance of the warehouse. A young man stared at me as I entered the door. Once inside I found two more, young inspiring wiseguys glaring at me much like the first one did. The younger of the two stood up from his seat and began to speak. "You need somethin' pal?"
"I need to see Carmine." I explained. They could not tell who I was, to them I was just another nobody on the streets. This was the problem of the younger generation; they're respect was limited.
"You have an appointment to see Carmine?" The elder of the two young wiseguys eclaimed from across the room. The two smirked at the remark bu tthen became very serious as I started talking.
"Tell him...Anthony DeCarlo, is here to see him." Thier expression changing as I finished. They might not have recognized me, but they knew the name. "The Gaspipe", infamous for the bloody East Side Shootout, one of the many events that eventually led to my demise and landed me a stay in prison. However, the name had set something off in thier brains, set them off into action as the younger man disappeared into the second door of the entrace, deep into the warehouse, only to reappear with Carmine in thier presence.
I smiled as The Fur Coat King emerged from the back. Sliding my sunglasses back to a resting position atop my crown my eyes adjusted to the bright lights of the waiting room. Carmine let out a shout and flamboyantly waltzed in my direction to embrace me with a large, welcoming hug and a pat on the shoulder."How are ya Tone'? It's been a while eh?"
"Too damn long" I returned before the two of us engaged in a series of small talk that lasted a little less than ten minutes. Carmine's wife and kids were doing fine, the same old bullshit you talk about to break the ice with an old friend you haven't seen in years. Finally it came to an end with Carmine's question.
"So you lookin' to get back in the game. Everything's fucked up around here, no order Tony. I mean the fuckin' Puerto Ricans are runnin' around everywhere now. You know that never used to be."
The oppurtunity presented itself. I didn't even have to ask. Every muscle inside my jaw wanted to make a big obnoxious grin, but I held it in as I had done before. It was important I remained a serious, strong stature. "Well that's actually what I wanted to talk to ya' about." I continued telling him about the operation Quiet Dom and I were beginning to set up. I explained about the recent transition of ownership of La Scala as well as some other details invloved with various other people. He stopped me in amidst my detailed approach.
" Tony...you and I been friends for how long. You don't hafta come in here and with your pitch like you're tryin' to sell me something alright? The way things been lookin' around, the fuckin' unorganization, I'm your guy alright. It's about someone stepped up to the plate and started getting shit going." Carmine threw gestures as he was speaking, a very animate talker. "There is one small problem though, other than those Puerto Ricans," He was a bit racist against against hispanics and reffered to them all as Puerto Ricans regardless if it was true or not." You remember Artie Clay?"
How could I forget. Calegero Vaccini, Artie Clay was just a nickname, the origin of which was unknown to everyone. He was old school hard ass, one of the biggest pricks around in the old days and apparently he was as much of a prick now as he was when he was younger. After the fall of the old family, the major indictment and incarcerations of the entire administartion as well as select others, there was just a bunch of Made guys on the streets like a leaderless army without a cause. Naturally most tried to make a move for the top, which resulted in chaos. It was everyman for himself, everyone had his own interests at hand. There were a few however, Like Carmine and this Artie Clay that developed thier own crews and operations, sat back and watched the destruction of what was left of the Family.
Now however, with the neighborhood in an unorganized mess, Artie Clay claims he runs it. His crew isn't near large enough to make a claim like that, however it is large enough to create problems for Carmine and myself, unless I could somehow get him to cooperate. The information embedded itself in my brain as Carmine sent it through his mouth. Finally I spoke, " Alright, lemme go and pay Artie a visit."
The King of Fur nodded, then extended his arm to a direction of two men sitting towards the back of the room, laughing over what looked to be a magaizine one of them held. "Take those two with ya. They don't do shit around here anyways."
The two young Cugines'
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