When the River Stopped Flowing

[Rifugio e Sicuro]

When the River Stopped Flowing

"All change is not growth, as all movement is not forward."
-Ellen Glascow

7:49 PM, Rocco's Corner Restuarant
Firenze, Rifugio e Sicuro
January 17, 1996

The tall, slick haired man walked through the door of the restuarant, after staring into the bright letters of the restuarant's name. Loud noises and laughter echoed as the nostalgic smells of delicious food waifted on his lips, the atmosphere surrounded Tamaso; a smiling Luigi beckoned him over to his table. Tamaso looked over his shoulder, back at his car with Vinci standing guard, enveloped by the darkness of the night, he then shuffled to back of the dining room, squeezing past clambering tables and bustling waiters. Luigi and his friend, who was just as heavy set as Luigi, were in a dimly lit corner booth; a Neo-Classical painting was propped above Luigi, to the left end of the table a lean, tanned man with greasy combed back hair. Not wanting to disrespect Luigi or move his entourage further into the booth Tamaso took the empty chair across from Luigi, the fat, middle aged man bustled with excitment, he stretched over the cluttered table to pat Tamaso's shoulders.

Luigi sat back down, speaking a mile a minute, as Tamaso settled and told the waitress his drink.

"Tamaso! I thought you'd never show up you marinaio asino! Hell, I've eaten too much now, my stomach is going to burst," Luigi said another two sentences in those two seconds but were uttered to quickly for Tamaso to comprehend, the waitress showed up with bread and an entre of pasta and placed in front of Tamaso "ah whatever! Eat! Eat! Mange!"

Tamaso waved the food to the middle of the table and rocked his hands as he spoke, "No, no, no, Luigi, my friend, I come for business. We finish the business, then we eat."

Luigi tore a corner of bread and stuffed his face, "Oh, you can't come visit you're old friend Luigi simply for food, you have to be sent here by your kid brother Giusseppe? Oh nevermind that, oh here's your drink."

Tamaso looked over his right should to smile to a brunette waitress placing a cup on his table. At the same moment his left should was gripped firmly and something was pressed against his throat. He knew what was happening before it happened, in the second long time frame he attempted to leap up but saw he was being pressed down by the greasy haired guard. A pistol cracked once and blood gushed from his wound. He was paralyzed and the imminent second shot, to his head, was released. His head crashed into the plate of pasta that was placed in front of him earlier.

The restuarant stopped bustling and awe struck screams and gasps quietly escaped the fearful crowd. The shooter then shot a single round at Luigi before tilting his fedora to make a shadow over his face, then pulled his hand into his sleeve and dropping the pistol. He briskly walked out of the restuarant, once on the sidewalk he spotted Vinci, he extended his pistol and fired and cursed as the shooter ran ran down the sidewalk. A police siren whined as a police officer shot at Vinci, hitting him in the shoulder, gut, and then throat.

11:49 PM, Backlot
Firenze, Rifugio e Sicuro
December 25, 1995

Giusseppe Michele Melchiorri was a thirty six year old man, standing at five feet, two inches, his body guard Victor Rendina towered over him, only in height however. It was famed that Giusseppe had so much power that he could have the whole city in revolt in half an hour if he called upon it. Giusseppe was the third born child to the great Condottierro Giuseppe Melchiorri, who had lead the revolt and eventual regime change of Rifugio e Sicuro in 1956. Giuseppe's first born son, Gianni, had been shot to death in 1958, when his was two. Giuseppe's second son, Tamaso, was, as most of his friends called him, Michele's right hand man. Michele opened his jacket and retrieved two cigars, handing one to his body guard Victor, and placing one in his own mouth. He then retrieved his zippo and lit both of the cigars.

Victor took a drag and Michele placed the cigar in between his fingers and embraced Luigi Fantolli as he approached the two men. Victor shook Luigi's hand then nodded to his two body guards, Jonny Rossi and Nino Rota; Nino Rota was the husband of Michele's younger sister Catherine, he was a young man and was only in the position because of his relations to Michele.

"Ahhh, Giusseppe Michele! How wonderful it is to see you, sonny! What are you doing here?" - the large, heavy set, jubelent man shook the calm and collected Michele as he pat his shoulders.

"Well," nodding his head, "Luigi I wished to ask you the same; you are the one who called me here. What do you want, remember, a friend of mine will always get the best."

Michele handed each of the three people in front of him cigars and they all stood in the powder, white snow, occasionally rubbing their hands to keep warm. Luigi then opened the right breast piece of his long, black jacket, pulling out a revolver. Victor and Michele simultaneously jumped back franticly, Victor placing his hand in his jacket to grip his own revolver.

"Luigi! What the hell as gotten into you? Put that away," Michele wasn't so collected with a gun in his visitor's hand. Victor had retrieved his own revolver and had it pointed at the round belly of Luigi.

"No, no, no, no, no... no, Michele, that's not what this revolver is for. Its not even mine, boy, this young, up start, new coming gangster owned this. He whacked Rocco and that jew Kerner at some cafe in Firenze, dropped it and I grabbed it when I came on the scene. I'd rather the right people take care of it, not the pigs. That motherfucker, he's got the whole lower city by the balls, Michele I need you to whack that little dago! His name is Tony Altobello, he looks like any of those random ganster dago's, but he stands out, those little dogs stick to him like a god."

Michele shook his head and took a drag from the cigar, "Luigi, I just can't do that. You do know you didn't bring in your tribute this month? Maybe if you were a boss I could appease you here, I could get away with it, but, Luigi, this guy, Altobello, has Oliver Kerner and those upstarts on his side. I can't afford to start a war for a guy that can't pay his tributes."

"Oh, Giusseppe.."

Michele waved him off, "Luigi, your one of my closest men, if Tamaso was to ever die or be made in capable, you would be the shoe in to be the new boss. I assure you that."

Michele hugged Luigi, pat him on the back, then he and Victor headed over to their car. Before driving away, Michele rolled down the window and bid his good byes, "Enjoy your cigars, men. Nice talking to your Luigi."

[Campeachy]

OOC:

I'm not sure what to say here, but it looks good.

[Rifugio e Sicuro]

When the River Stopped Flowing
Part II

"Government is not reason; it is not eloquent; it is force. Like fire, it is a dangerous servant and a fearful master."
-George Washington

8:07 AM, Home of Giusseppe Michele Melchiorri
Firenze, Rifugio e Sicuro
January 18, 1996

"Don Giusseppe, I can't do it. I love you, I love your sister, but I also love my life."

Michele was gripping Nino Rota's hand, shaking it nuturingly, as his left hand rubbed Nino's shoulder. Michele moved his left hand and placed it on the left side of Nino's head, gripping his jet black hair and his ear, as his thumb stroked Nino's cheek.

"Nino, I'm your brother, call me Michele. Nino, you have been a great husband to my sister, Catherine loves you; it would be a shame if she could not stay with you. I do not wish to threaten you, I am not a thug, Nino, my brother, but, but that vile, filthy, scroundrel dog, he is! He killed my brother Nino! My last brother, my last of blood! Nino, if Fantolli does not pay who am I? Some wench for the neighbourhood Scarface wannabe's to come in and shoot up my relatives, hoping to be the next, Don, Boss, what have you."

Michele stopped grasping his brother in law and stood up, retrieving a cigarette and his lighter. He walked over to his bar, puffing smoke and grabbed a cup and some scotch. As he fixed his drink he continued speaking, "Have him feel my brothers pain, Nino, go to his home, be early to your job. Offer to treat him to lunch, that fat man can't refuse that, then, then, then I want that fat fuck dead before he gets to eat. You here me, Nino? That fucker dies or you won't be able to see my sister any more, if you understand what I am saying."

Nino nodded reverentially then stood up, he pat his slacks then embraced Michele. The collected boss signalled to his bodyguard Victor Rendina, who then tapped the last of his cigarette into the ash tray, fixed his tie, then walked out with Michele's brother in law.

10:32 AM, Home of Luigi Fantolli
Firenze, Rifugio e Sicuro
January 18, 1996

The beaten up, black car with tinted windows pulled up to the gate of the villa that Nino Rota's boss, Luigi Fantolli, lived in. Nino rolled down his window and signalled the sentries at the gate to open the gate. Each wore a little workers cap, the first one wore a plade vest with brown slacks, he was heavy and had a thin moustache. The second wore a white suit shirt, without a tie, and had a shotgun slung on his back. Nino saluted the fat sentry as he drove down the gravel private road to the villa. Half a mile later he pulled around the island grass spot and parked in front of the door. He skipped up the steps and shook Jonny Rossi's hand before walking into the villa.

A fat Luigi sat in a dimly lit corner, a lamp hovering over him. He was barely visible as smoke surrounded him, as Luigi and most of his bodyguards were heavy smokers. Nino was Luigi's only body guard that didn't smoke. Two thin body guards played cards on the same table that Luigi's drink was on. They cursed or slapped each other every time it went wrong for either one of them.

"Oi you little faggot! That's mine and you fuckin' know it," Nino walked into the room, greeted the two arguing card players then walked over to his employer. Luigi attempted to stand up but Nino stopped him, bent over to embrace him in his chair then poured himself a drink.

"So, Luigi, my man, how about lunch? I heard this cafe in midtown serves some nice clubs."

Nino shuffled a deck of cards that was on the table that he had his drink on. The deck was ratty, torn, and old but was perfect for the lieing cheaters that would play with them. Luigi shook his head no as the two card players stood up, the hot headed one raising his voice to Nino.

"You dumb motherfucker didn't hear? Me, Algero, and Luigi are going out for the luchin'. Now you could drive us and bring us to that place you be talkin' about, that's fine, but we are going any way. Any way, that reminds me, fatboy, up, comon' we're going."

The two hotheaded and irrational bodyguards put their coats on, the one that had talked put his fedora on and helped Luigi up who then put on his coat and got his silk fedora on. They walked out of the home, then Algero clapped and called out, "Cologero! Car, now!"

Nino stepped in front of him, shaking his head. He placed his hand on Algero's shoulder and fingered Victor over, "No, no, no, Claudio, Algero, Luigi, come on, me and Victor will treat you guys to lunch."

Nino put his arm over Luigi's shoulder and they started walking over to the car that Victor was leaning on smoking. The four men started walking over when Claudio stopped short and stared angrily at Victor, "What's this limey motherfucker doing here? Nino, you dumb fuck, start talking."

Nino put his hands up but Luigi walked past and opened the front passenger door waving off the possible fight, "Claudio, get in the car, a friend of mine is a friend of yours. The fellow is hungry, lets go and eat."

Luigi gently and kindly slapped Victor's cheek who smiled mockingly and continued smoking. Nino went over to the driver's seat and Victor went into the back seat, Claudio and Algero going on either side of him. They took a quick drive to a quiet cafe; they pulled into the empty parking lot, going around to the back, parking next the garbage bin. Nino retrieved a smoke, something he didn't do often, offered one to everyone in the car and turned around to look at Algero who was behind Luigi, "Hey Algero, Claudio, go in and get our seats. Get our drinks while Luigi and I finish our smokes. Okay?"

They didn't answer but followed their order once Luigi whisked his hand in compliance. Each of the two people in the front seat pushed their cigarettes into the lighter pocket. They sat around smoking for a few seconds, the two soldiers hadn't even reached the door of the cafe yet, when Nino reached under his seat and retrieved a large hunting knife. He lifted it out swiftly and for a bleak moment it gleamed, then Nino thrust it into Luigi's stomach, carving upward. He pulled it out then stabbed it into Luigi's throat; the knife pinned him to the leather seat. Simultaneously Victor jumped out of the car, pulling out a pistol, then ducked behind the car door, shooting twice at Algero who had reached the cafe door. The first bullet crashed into his back and collided into his lung, the second one went through his shoulder muscle and into the glass of the cafe door.

Claudio quickly turned around and pulled a pistol out of his belt and aimed at Victor; before he could fire Victor shot three times, two impacting with his chest, the third going through his throat. The man gurgled blood and then swallowed his tongue, collasping to his knees both of his hands gripped his throat; blood gushed into his hands and out his mouth. The man struggled, shaking and choking; Victor hurriedly ran to the passenger door, he opened it and threw the knife to the parking lot ground, then pulling out the fat boss throwing him next to the knife that had murdered him. Victor closed the back door then jumped into the passenger seat, Nino then rushed out of the parking lot. As the car passed the dying Claudio, Victor opened the door and it hit him, knocking back over into the position he died in.

"Bad mouthed creep, figure's he'd choke on his tongue."

1:04 AM, Home of Nino Rota
Firenze, Rifugio e Sicuro
January 19, 1996

No lights were on, the quiet clanging of glass on glass echoed mockingly as Nino placed his cup on the glass table he sat on after downing the milk in it. He shook the extra chocolate chips off of his muffin then he took a big bite into it. He suddenly jumped when the light above him turned on and his wife, Catherine Melchiorri Rota, walked over and sat on his lap.

"Honey, what are you doing up so late? It's one in the morning, go back to sleep."

Nino shook his head no then tightly hugged his wife, before placing her feet on the floor, "No, I can't, not after earlier. Why you up, anyway? And dressed?"

Catherine sighed and shook her hand, "Nevermind that, Benita called me, she needs some help over at her house. What happened earlier that's keeping you up?"

Not wanting to tell his wife that her brother had ordered him to kill a men else he would end up dead, or their marriage failing, Nino made up a lie, "I didn't hear the phone ring. It was nothing, I had some bad food at your brother's house and my stomach is reacting."

His wife nodded him off, not really caring what he was going to say anyway then said good bye, kissed his forehead, and left. Nino sat staring blankly at the wall in front of him. He poured himself another cup of milk and dipped his muffin into it before biting down. The house was entirely silent, Nino could hear himself chew. He swallowed, took a big gulp of his frosty milk then began choking. A thin metal line was wrapped around his throat, he was being garotted, his chair flipped and fell to the floor, he was kicking and raging and fighting. The table that had been in front of him flipped and fell to the ground, glass shattered and fruit and other foods that had been on the table rolled next to Nino as he was dragged down his hall way. He passed a stool and grabbed for his dear life on the leg of it. The assassin stopped dragging him and stopped choking him. Suddenly he was punched in the face and he lost all of his breath; two men held his legs down, when he was struggling four more people rushed into the house. Two of them were weilding heavy metal baseball bats, the other two held his arms down as he tried to punch the man that had choked him.

He had seen the man before, earlier that day in fact, he was Collogero, a lowly sentry. Nino was wondering how, and why, he was leading the murder of his former officer. Nino clamped his eyes tight as he braced himself for what he thought would be a baseball bat to the face. However it was to the knees; each of the men with bats started beating his legs, without cessation. They cursed and screamed at him as the man cried and moaning as his knees were knocked out of place twenty times over. He could no longer moves his legs, they had effectively amputated them with blunt objects. He cried and cursed. The people holding him down let go and Collogero kicked Nino in the face, the burly man with the bat brought the bat down into his stomach, Nino pulled up in agony.

The door slammed multiple times as Nino went into the fetal position; a car outside revved and then a few words were shouted at the top of the speaker's lungs, "You dumb motherfucker! Mess with us again! I dare you!"

Then the windows, mirros, china, and everything began to shatter as the thugs outside began to shoot his house. Five men at least, each with assault rifles, were firing ruthlessly at the house, but Nino knew there was more, there was always more. Nino heard some one firing a shotgun, after one shot an upstairs window shattered. Curses and threats were being screamed and taunted at the broken legged Nino. After four minutes and upwards to easily thousands of rounds later police sirens began to whine the thugs hopped into their cars and drove off.

11:56 AM, Migliore Caffè
Firenze, Rifugio e Sicuro
January 19, 1996

Estatic laughter filled the porch around the small circular table that two beautiful, petite, blond woman and one smiling man bearing a white fedora and a white silk suit sat around. He smiled ridiculously with a small cup of Sherry fortified wine in his right hand and a giant grin on his face. He was spitting out sad jokes that others would have put their palm to their face over, however the ignorant tramps he was drinking with did not care and continued to laugh anyway. One of the woman said a joke back and the man leaned over the table laughing fanatically.

At that moment, at a slow, ominous pace a lumbering, imposing man stepped out of the doorway onto the porch. He wore an all black suit with a long black jacket propped over his shoulders, one hand, his right hand, was hidden inside the jacket. The three people around the table stopped laughing, looked skittishly at each other and then at the ominous, imposing man.

"Enjoy your girl's drink, jackoff?"

The man was stunned at the question and raised his eyebrow questioningly, then he knew what was next when the man let his overcoat jacket fall to the floor and a concealed AK-47 was withdrawn. He propped it up at his hip and the first round hit the raised cup of Sherry fortified wine. The man fired recklessly, bullets hit everything in the general direction of the table. The man that had been sitting at the end of the table shook back and forth as bullets crashed into his chest. The woman to his left flipped back as her chair crashed to the floor. The second girl had jumped from her chair, one hand nursing a wound, with her other hand sticking out as if to tell him to cease firing. Three more bullets hit her as she walked back and flipped off the porch. The hitman stopped firing as soon as his gun was empty, he tapped the trigger a few more times in anger, only to hear an empty clicking noise, then dropped the gun to the floor, pulling a revolver from his inside jacket breast pocket. He walked up to the destroyed table, fired twice at the twitching girl on the floor then frustratingly gripped the jacket breast of the man and put his head to the dying man's ear.

"Your brother, your mangy friend, and that dumb boss of yours picked the wrong fucking man to cross, motherfucker! The wrong fucking man! You dumb motherfucker, you," the assassin stepped back, still gripping the dying man's breast jacket, and pressed his revolver to his sternum, firing twice more. The hitman looked back and forth, than over his shoulder, then hopped off the poarch deck and ran down the street.

A frisk, cool breeze rushed across the side walk that Victor Rendina and Rita Aumaglia rushed down; Victor pressing a hand on his silk, black fedora with a dotted feather pretruding from it. He turned the corner, pushing Rita back, then he stopped dead in his tracks in the doorway of the out door porch cafe dining tables. A bloodied, bullet ridden lifeless body of Victor's brother Arrigo, wide eyed, stared blankly at the cafe owner and the Condottiero's bodyguard. A shrill screech of terror escaped the old cafe owner's mouth as Victor gripped his fedora and brought it to his chest, he fell to his knees, his hand holding the fedora shaking, and then raised both his hands to the sky as a saddened cry, wrought with pain and agony, echoed in the streets; the cry rising above the gossip and small talk of the gathered crowd of civilians below.

[Rifugio e Sicuro]

When the River Stopped Flowing
Part III

"All wars are civil wars, because all men are brothers."
-Francois Fenelon

8:56 PM, St. Mariana's Hospitale
Firenze, Rifugio e Sicuro
January 17, 1996

"Sir Fantolli, are you okay?"

A concerned Jonny Rossi sat at Luigi Fantolli's bedside, one hand on the injured boss's shoulder. Jonny opened his mouth to continue then looked at grim faced nurse who was standing at the end of the bed with her hands at her chest. Luigi whisked his good hand and the nurse nodded in compliance, turning to Jonny and nodding reverentially before turning tail and leaving the room, closing the door behind her. The two mobsters watched the door, once satisfied they turned back to each other and Jonny stroked his injured leader, boss, and employer.

"Are you okay?" - Luigi simply nodded his head in distrust, he lifted his bad arm, the one that had been shot, and placed it on Jonny's hand. The cast had only just been applied and was a cleanly white colour. The gun shot had wound had hit in between his middle and index fingers; from there it lodged itself in the bones of Luigi's hand. His hand would be completely ruined for the rest of his life, however short it may have been, his arm would recover entirely but he couldn't move his fingers. Even slightly and gently moving it to respectingly pet Jonny was a agonizing task for Luigi. The man was annoyed, livid in fact, at the orders he had not given and that had ruined his already diminished charachter.

"Jonny, my boy, why the hell did you go over my head? Now I'm in the hospital," the old man ranted, he was tired and wheezing, he had already vomitted up the feast he had prepared himself and that Tamaso had died in. Jonny brushed back his boss's wrangled hair that had began to come over his eyes; they were greasy and sweated.

Jonny sighed, "Luigi, my friend, I did not mean for you to get hurt. But it needed to look like a maniac went off and shot up our table, rather than some planned assassination. It was Claudio's idea for you to be shot as well, that idiot hitman missed and hit your hand though. But I promise you, that is being taken care of."

Luigi brought his lower lip above his top lip, squinted his eyes, and shook his head menacingly; the last time he had done that was to a pizza parlor owner who was protecting his young shop keep after roughing up a shop owned by Luigi's family. After he gave that look the man was beaten to death by aluminum baseball bats in the middle of the day, in bright day light, and in front of a police officer. So of course, Jonny was momentarily scared, he was just waiting for two men touting AK-47's to rush in and shoot him to his death. He was relieved when it didn't happen.

"Jonny, my boy, the last person to go over my head is now sleeping with the fish. But I love you, I wouldn't do that to you. But you went to far, I needed Tamaso to finish the deal, land me with the high rollers."

Jonny pat Luigi's stomach and smirked, "Luigi, no need, Tamaso was having a falling out with Guisseppe any way, by the time you got Tamaso with us, he would be as useful as Cologero! There is one man that we need more than any body. And thats Nino Rota."

"Nino Rota? He already works for us."

Jonny nodded his head, "Yes, that he does Luigi, however, if a war was to break out with the Fantolli family and the Melchiorri family, who do you think he would side with? What we need to do is corrupt Nino, make him think he is safe, then we beat the motherfucker into a pulp. With him out of the question and missing, Guisseppe will turn to Maurizio Gaetano Sacconi who is much more corruptable. Right now it is a race against time to see who can grab Maurizio first, do you understand what I am trying to say?"

Jonny slapped Luigi's cheek and pinched it, "Now rest up, some events will be happening tonight. That poor hitman will be repaid for his deeds and tomorrow morning you will be brought back home. Perhaps Claudio and Algero can treat you to lunch."

9:32 PM, Percorso su Strada Due
Firenze, Rifugio e Sicuro
January 17, 1996

His arms swung gently as he walked briskly down the side of Percorso su Strada Due, his arms cut through the thick breeze as he walked. He counted the lamp posts he passed, once he came to the seventh one he stopped, then burrowed his hand into the right inside breast pocket of his suit; he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, he then retrieved his lighter. He uncrinkled the paper than stared at it reminiscing, on it had an appearance description, a location, and some directions. He quickly burned the paper, not letting passing cars see what he was doing. The ashs gently rocked down to the pavement, where the man stomped them out with his shoes.

He continued to walk a bit down the road then stopped in his tracks. He turned around, the darkness delved down the street. Then what he was expecting showed up; a yellow car with one headlight out came slowly up, it started to blink its lights to signal him. The man nodded and walked up to the side of the car. It slowed down to halt and then the window rolled down. Music floated out to greet him, four men packed the car, the two in the front seats being of higher ranks; the man if the front passenger seat slid a briefcase out. The man who had been walking made a great big smile to his award for killing Tamaso in the restuarant earlier.

"This is for you, thanks for all the good work, Vincenzo," Vincenzo smiled and saluted the people in the car. The car slowly began to drive off and Vincenzo snuck a peek at the content the breifcase; ten thousand rete per pesci's smiled back at the hitman. He quickly turned his head back around when he heard the car he had just met with riding backwards. The same person that had gave him the money rolled down the window again and smiled, "You forgot something."

"I forgot what," the bewildered hitman ask, that was when the back window rolled down and a revolver was stuck out of it, the man in the passenger seat smiled then shot the hitman in the face, the man in the back passenger seat unloaded six bullets into the hitman before the car revved off.