It has been a long trip. An eight hour drive from Pittsburgh to New York City. Thanks to Momma, I'm scheduled to meet a guy about a job. A man by the name of Dominic Castellano. I pulled into the parking garage at New Yorks LaGuardia International Airport at half past 10 am. I sit and wait for Dominics boys.

One thing sitting here these passed minutes has given me, is time to think. Castellano. Where have I heard the name?

I must have dozed off. I swear this guy game from out of nowhere. He tapped on my window and I roll it down.


”Yeah?”

”Mr. Falcon, come with me.”


How the fuck does he know my name?

I get out of the car and I follow the man with that thick Brooklyn accent. He opens the door to a blacked out Lincoln Town Car. I climb in and there's another man in the driver seat. The man that brought me to the car gets in the back seat. I'm not one to fear much, but I am beginning to get a little nervous.

I wait until we're away from the airport before opening my mouth.


”So, which one of you is Dominic Castellano?”


I knew that was a dumb question. But, when you're sent into a situation blind, as I am now, you tend to ask dumb questions just to get the conversation going.

The man in the backseat speaks first.


”I'm Vinny, that's Tony. The Boss doesn't exactly go 'round pickin' up his soldiers.”


The boss? Soldiers? What the hell was this guy talking about?


”So, uh, where we going?”

”The Boss has a job for you. An easy one. Just for you to prove you got what it takes in this line of business.”


I guess these guys aren't that talkative. The ride lasts about a half hour. When Tony kills the engine, I realize I'm outside a gigantic mansion. I'm not sure, but it definitely looks bigger than the one I'd just lost.

Vinny and Tony lead me into the mansion and have me take a seat in a large office. Well, less like an office and more like a lounge with a large desk made of a deep tinted cherry wood.


”Mr. Falcon, the Boss isn't ready just yet. Relax here a few minutes.”


If I were to tell you my nervousness had subsided, I'd be lying. What's more, is I'm actually even more nervous now than I was before. Being in an unfamiliar place meeting a man called only “the Boss” has me on the razors edge. On the other hand, my mother wouldn't have set me up with somebody she didn't trust.

Outside the door, I hear some chatter. Two voices. One is Vinny, the other, I can only assume is Tony. I haven't yet heard his voice in person, but I didn't see anyone else around when we entered. Then comes a third voice. I can hear every word he says. He has a loud, boisterous voice.

Chatter from the other two.


”I don't give a fuck! I want him dead! You understand me! I want him fuckin dead! I want his fuckin head mounted on my fuckin wall!”


What the hell am I getting into here!?

A little more chatter and I hear the door open. I turn in my chair and look toward the door. A heavy set, balding man enters and he walks right over to me. I stand up as he nears.


”Mr. Falcon, Dominic Castellano. Nice to meet you.”


He extends his hand toward me and we shake.


”Please. Sit.”


I do as asked and Mr. Castellano walks around the desk and takes a seat in a dark red leather chair. Before saying another word, he lights up a cigar.





”Mr. Falcon, your wonderful mother tells me you're in need of some cash.”

”Yes, sir.”

”Please. Call me Dom. You can also call me da Boss. Most of the others do.”

”Alright, Boss.”

”Your mother tells me you did a bit of gambling and lost all your fathers money.”

”You could say that.”

”Your father was a good man. A great business man. Made hundreds of millions legitimately.”


He already knows more than I would have been willing to divulge in a first meeting.


”Momma wants me to replace every dime, Boss. That's exactly what I want to do.”

”Stick with me kid. You'll get it all back.”

”What type of business are you in?”

”Its complicated, Mr. Falcon.”

”Dom, call me Sean.”


Dominic stands up and pours himself a drink.


”What'll you have?”

”Bourbon and Branch.”


After a few seconds, he sets a tumbler down in front of me, then returns to his seat.


”Sean, this is a big business I'm in. Some legit. Some not. On the legit side, construction, dry cleaning. On the not so legit side, drug running, racketeering, gambling, things like that. I wanna start you off on the legit side. To allow you to get used to what we do here.”


Holy. Fucking. Shit. This guy is a mafia boss. I've got that excited, scared feeling. Except, I don't know if I'm more excited, or more scared.


”Well, Boss, I don't want to let you down.”

”You better not let me down, if you do, I'll have you fuckin whacked! Understand me!?”


Oh shit. I think I might have just pissed myself.

I hope he's kidding, but I doubt it. Although, Vinny and Tony are laughing. So is Dom Castellano.


”Relax, kid. I'm joking. Let's cut the shit and get down to business. Under normal circumstances, you'd have to be stuck with another Soldier as an Associate until you've proved your worth to the Family.

“I knew your father, I know your mother. I'm gonna skip the formalities and make you a Soldier right now. You're a made man, Sean.”

”I can't even pretend I know what that means.”


The three men laugh a little. I'm not sure if they're laughing because they figured that was the case, or if they're laughing at me.


”When I told your mother I'd take you on, she made me promise to protect you. A made man is a protected man. That means you can't be whacked without my permission. So, don't make me give anyone that permission. Don't make me give that permission. It'd hurt me deeply to have to go back on my word to your mother.”

”Christ. You're like John Gotti or some shit.”


He was in the middle of a swallow when I said that. He spit it out and whipped his tumbler into the wall, shattering it into hundreds of pieces. He jumps to his feet and slams his fists against the desk.


”Don't you EVER mention that fuckers name again! You understand me!? That man was a snake! A murderous rat hellbent on gaining power before he earned it!”

”I'm sorry, Mr. Castellano. I didn't know.”


He takes a moment to compose himself, then takes his seat again.


”Vinny here is your Caporegime. He'll give you your orders in most cases. For now, I'll do it. I need you to send a message to a union rep. His name is Jack Hillman. He needs to know he's fuckin with the wrong construction company.”

”What's he doing?”

”He keeps standing in our way. He's blocking the proper permits we need to start construction on a high rise in the Greenwich Village section of Manhattan. Which, if you don't know, is one of the most desirable neighborhoods in the City. Which means, he standing in the way of me and my employees making lots of money.”

”What is it you want me to do?”

”I want you to make sure he can't stand in our way. I want you to make sure he can't stand at all.”

”Hahaha. It sounds like you're telling me to bust his kneecaps or some...”

”That's exactly what I'm telling you. Go with Vinny. He'll take you to get your car. He'll fill you in on the details.”

”Yes, sir.”


I follow Vinny out and back to the Lincoln. We begin to head back to the airport and pick up my car.


”I didn't think he'd react to the mention of John Gotti that way. What's the deal?”

”You gotta watch what you say. John Gotti whacked the Bosses uncle, Big Paul Castellano. John Gotti was an example of everything that was wrong with... this business. Over the years since, the Families have come together. We've managed to restore law and order within the business. We're stronger then ever before and everyone thinks the feds had stymied the entire organization.”

”Doesn't seem like it. I don't know a whole lot about this business, but it seems to still be going strong.”

“We've just been quieter.”

”So? About Jack Hillman.”

”One thing you need to know is at this level, we don't do harm to another man in front of their families. The Boss frowns on that. Anyhow, this Hillman character. He has a mistress in Queens. Janet Stephens. He visits her regularly on the weekends. Find the address, and do what you're told to do.”

”Sounds simple enough.”

---

It's just before 10 pm and I'd found the address for Miss Stephens. I took my car back to Vinnys place in Brooklyn and picked up a Mercedes from the garage. I'd been staked out here since about 8:30 and I watched who I assume is my target walk in no more than ten minutes later.

Hillman exits the house right around 10 and gets into his car. I follow him, knowing full well he isn't getting far. How far can one go with less than a gallon of gas? Hilmans car begins to sputter and he turns on his hazards then brings the car to a stop next to a closed business.

Following from about a block away, I slow as I near Jack Hillmans position. I bring the Mercedes to a stop and hit the switch to roll down the window.


”I noticed your four ways. Need some help?”

”I must have ran out of gas. Odd. Since I'm almost sure I had about a half a tank left.”


Three quarters, actually.


”Do you have a gas can?”

”Uhhh. No. No, I don't.”

”You should always carry one with you. Hop in, there's a gas station just up the road.”


Jack Hillman hesitates, but gets in the car. When I put it in gear, I heard the click of the car doors as they locked automatically. The switch to unlock them only works from the drivers seat. All the others have been disabled. Purposely, of course.


”That gas station was open.”

”We're not going to a gas station.”


The man looks at me, confused. Then fear begins to set in. He tries to unlock the door and pull the handle. It was all for nothing. That door won't open.


”Where are we going? Who are you?”

”The name isn't important. Relax, Jack. We're going to a little out of the way place I know. We need to have a little chat.”


Actually, I don't know any place around here. It's a good thing this car is equipped with a GPS.

Minutes later, we arrive at our destination. An old warehouse with conveniently opened bay doors. I pull the car into the bay and get out of the car and pull out my gun, given to me by Vinny before I left. I walk around and open the passenger side door.


”Get out of the car Jack.”


He just stares at me, trembling. I put the pistol to his face.


”Get out of the car Jack. Or I will pull this trigger.”


Jack finally gets out of the car.


”On your knees.”


The smell of urine. Terrible. But he gets on his knees anyway. I spin the gun around on my trigger finger and pistol whip Jack Hillman in the side of the temple. Not hard enough to knock him out, but hard enough to make his world spin.

After opening the trunk, I toss the pistol in and grab a thick, heavy crowbar. In the movies, these mob guys liked to use baseball bats. I like steel. It's hard. It's heavy. And nearly indestructible.

I return to Jack Hillman and kick him in the side lightly. He moans.


”You got a problem, Jack. Its come to my attention you're giving the boss some trouble.”

”I don't know what you're talking about! Who's your boss!?”

”He's instructed me to send you a message.”


Rearing back to swing the thick crowbar, he starts to back away, so I stand on his ankle. I swing it hard, sending it colliding with Jack Hillmans left knee, shattering it on impact. He screams out in agony.


”You broke my fucking knee! Jesus fucking Christ!”


Without saying a word, I do the same to his right knee. He screams some more and I drop to my knees and put my hand over his mouth.


”Dominic Castellano would like you to stop blocking his permits. He'd like to begin construction on that high rise now. Oh, and before I forget. If he has to send me to see you again, you won't live to tell about it.

“Remember that.”


Without another word, I get back to my feet and climb into the car. I drive off. Back to meet with Vinny and let him know, the Bosses wishes are my command.

---

James Gandolfini “Tony Soprano” 1961-2013 Rest In Peace