A Year or Two Ago, Italy

☆ Reino de España Posts : 228 Join date : 2009-11-30

Juan kept his head down. Well, Pietro Esposito kept his head down as he swept the floor of the corner grocery.

It was an inglorious job, and it didn't even begin to pay rent. But he got free food pretty often. And the pocket money was how he funded his real job...small stakes gambling.

He never made too much in one night, and he tried to stay away from building a circle or people who knew him well.

Clearly, he had failed. He was beginning to think he'd need to move. "Ilario" they called him, and some recognized him by reputation and description. For once it might not even be the Division he was running from. The Mafia had a hand in everything, even the little craps and card games he visited sporadically.

It was at a game that very night that his luck ran out. Three goons were waiting for him when he came out with a slightly fatter wallet. A few bruises later, he had his hands tied behind his back and a bag covering his head. He was oddly calm during the drive, though. He couldn't really see what was coming, but that was comforting in its own way. It meant he probably wasn't going to die.

Subject: xx. Taking Action Fri Jan 15, 2010 2:42 am

Most of the recent problems that he and the family had been facing came almost entirely from the casinos and several specific areas of the Underground. After enough threats were made and a decent amount of information had been gathered up, the source of these issues was finally recognized, and a plan was put into action.

Unfortunately, it was rather slapped together, and the logic behind it was more than a little agitated, but the tactic had always worked for Lovino himself, so why wouldn't it work on a larger scale? They'd just fight fire with fire, and sniffing out the local gossip had provided them with the fire they needed.

To take out a top gambler, you needed another top gambler. According to the residents of those casinos and illicit gambling rings, there was a character that fit the bill well enough. They called him Ilario. Lovino just called him stupid.

Really, if he was ridiculous enough to build a reputation and not keep it under wraps, he was asking for trouble. Whoever this guy is, he'd just better be happy we got 'im first.

So Lovino had sent out his boys to invite Mr. Ilario to lunch, and he had been waiting for them to bring him back for the past half-hour. It was annoying, and his patience was gradually getting thinner and thinner. He hated relying on outsiders for help, and this was no exception. They should have been able to handle this themselves, goddammit.

When the speaker on his desk buzzed, the dark-haired Italian jumped in his desk chair. He had gotten too caught up in his thoughts.

Hitting the button off to the side of the console, he spoke through to the woman on the other line. "Are they back or not?"

The response was positive, and with a satisfied growl, he nodded to himself. About fuckin' time. "Send 'em up, then. Bastard's probably had the scare of his life, so make 'im comfortable. Don't make this shit any worse than it already is!"

They needed this guy on their side. And this was where Lovino Vargas' job on the front lines started. It was his prerogative to make sure this Ilario fellow saw their side and agreed to help them. Leaning back in his chair, the young mob boss ran through the options available to him.

Bribery, blackmail, favor ticket, coercion, cement shoes...

He hadn't had to resort to the shoes for a while. Hm.

Steepling his fingers in front of his mouth, the Italian continued to muse while he waited. Don't fuck this up, Lovi.

(Lskgh. Gotta stop writing things when I'm half asleep. Sorry, man. oTL)

☆ Reino de España Posts : 228 Join date : 2009-11-30

Juan listened carefully to the goons as they dragged him into a room - dark, judging by the sudden loss of what little vision the bag allowed. The chatter was fairly standard intimidation talk. They said things like "wait for the boss" and "we don't need this little fish."

But obviously they did need him, or someone like him, or else he wouldn't be here. For information, he hoped. Or a little job he could walk away from. Actually, as long as he walked away from it, he wasn't sure he cared what he was needed for.

They were also calling him "Ilario," which might mean that they didn't know any of his other, more relevant names. He took deep breaths and relaxed. The goons continued to jostle and harass him, and he ignored them.

Subject: Re: A Year or Two Ago, Italy Wed Feb 03, 2010 3:29 pm

"Shut up."

While the family always worked together in this way, it was normally because the person they were dealing with deserved it. The usual types of fools they dealt with got themselves in their own mess. Either they tried to burrow into the family's affairs, or the person they tormented looked to them for help.

And hey, they got help.

But they weren't used to asking for help themselves. It was going to fuck them right up if it kept going that way.

"This one's mine. Lemme talk to him. Ain't like you're doin' any good, anyway, dumbasses."

The few goons who had brought Ilario in retreated to the walls, two staying close by in case the man tried something ridiculous. This part of the routine, he could deal with, he supposed. Lovino could fight, despite what they may think, so it was a blow to his pride, but eh. Shit was shit. Couldn't change it.

"You know who you're talkin' to, Ilario?" he started, working on keeping his voice mellow. This situation sucked, and he was well aware of it. Goddamn gamblers... "Hell. You even know what you're here for?"

So his methods were impractical and strange. He didn't hear anyone complaining.

But really. If the man answered too accurately or too off-the-mark, Lovino would have to change everything about this situation. They couldn't leave any loose ends, and if the guy they wanted to help them was too smart or too stupid, it added completely different risks of equal value. Sometimes, threats just didn't work, so he was reluctant to get too many people involved. It endangered everyone.

☆ Reino de España Posts : 228 Join date : 2009-11-30

Ah. Whoever was in charge had made his presence known. The voice was young, commanding, sure of himself...Sight unseen, Antonio would guess the leader was twenty-something. A mafia boss or underboss. Someone high enough in the hierarchy that he didn't need to prove his power by being overly belittling.

The little noises told him the goons had pulled away from him, to let the leader approach. No protests. No words. At least a boss, then. Possibly actual family. A son or nephew of the boss. Antonio shivered. He was still not particularly concerned for his life...but his freedom could come into question. He hoped again that the job would be small, short, and not too terribly risky.

"Do you know who you're talking to?" Antonio asked guardedly. He rather hoped they didn't. "To answer your first question, you're some kind of Mafia. Aren't they all much the same as any other? As for why I'm here..." he tilted his head. Fluorescent light filtered through the sack. "Correlation doesn't prove causation, but I was pinched after a night of semi-profitable gambling." He didn't elaborate further on his suspicions. He had a lot more secrets than a little card sharping.

Subject: Re: A Year or Two Ago, Italy Tue Mar 16, 2010 7:18 pm

He bristled, lips drawing into a tight line. He didn't like this guy. He caught on way too quickly, for his liking -- as he had been afraid of -- and he had this stupid look to him that was just asking for an ass-kicking. Lovino could tell that one, even with the damn bag in the way!

He was starting to regret having to resort to a common man to do this job. If he wanted to get smartmouthed all day, he had plenty of family around who could do the same thing.

"Whatever," he fumed, chewing the inside of his cheek in agitation. He couldn't very well keep up an act when the man had figured out that much about what was going on. So he worked on rerouting the topic, ignoring his question. "So y'connected some dots. Big fuckin' deal.

"Just keep quiet, and you'll get out of this just fine." He had tried to think of something eloquent that would swap the situation around, but he was no good at that. He wasn't good at much of anything, he supposed; this just added to the list.

Taking a breath, the Italian drew up a chair to face the gambler, sitting with his legs straddling the back. "I'll keep this quick and dumbed-down. We've got a little problem, and to get rid of it, we need someone like you. You know your way around a gambling circle, I guess, and that's what we're dealin' with. Think of 'im as a Kingpin, yeah?"

'Course, now came the fun part. The basis was laid out, but there was no catch. Without that, it was like trying to catch a fish with a piece of string. Didn't work without the hook and worm.

"In return, Mr. Ilario," Lovino started, upper lip pulling back in a scowl as he bit the bullet, "you'll keep your earnings from tonight, and we'll turn a blind eye to the rest of your little 'ventures.' Soundin' good so far?"

He hated having to extend favors like this. Particularly since gambling was something like one of the family's primary hunting techniques, for lack of a better description. Letting him go like that would fuck up a lot of their surveillance. 'Hey, there's some punk winnin' everything in site!' 'You better bring him in, dipshit.' 'Aw, sorry boss, it's just that idiot who helped us before.'

This'd hang over his head until the day he died. He just knew it.

The brunet's hands clenched the chair's backing, knuckles white from the effort. Tch...

☆ Reino de España Posts : 228 Join date : 2009-11-30

Ohhh, this bag was limiting. Juan - no, Pietro, he'd been Pietro for weeks now, he was going to stay Pietro for a while - Pietro really wanted the bag off so he could see. Still...the scraping sound, then the fleshy slump probably meant the boss had sat down in front of him.

"If you're trying to intimidate me...I think it might be more effective if I could see you," Pietro said patiently. As a gambler, he was used to watching people's poker faces; face-to-face intimidation actually wasn't all that frightening to him, but the boss didn't need to know that.

He cocked his head in interest at the offer, though. The mafia wasn't usually interested in letting people keep money...or continue to operate businesses that didn't directly benefit the mafia...especially if those businesses actually caused harm to mafia industries.

"That sounds a little too good to be true. What's to stop you from killing me when the job is over?" Pietro frowned.