It's morning. The sun pours in the windows of my room as I stare up at the ceiling. I feel the stinging sensation in my eyes after not getting one wink of sleep. The decision that has been thrust upon me by Dominic Castellano weighs heavy on my mind. If I do what he ordered me to do, then naturally, I'll be guilty of triple murder. After all, what if he's wrong? What if I kill these men for him and he was wrong? What if they were planning to whack one of the Bosses, but not Castellano?

On the flip side.

What if he's correct? What if Vinny, Sonny and the guy I can never remember really are planning to assassinate Castellano? They don't know me from Adam. They don't have any reason to trust me. They have no ties to the Falcon family. They have no reason to want to protect me.

From an outsiders perspective its an easy choice. Take out the three Under Bosses. Not so much, in my mind. It's not that easy. On one hand, I could take out the Vinny and the gang and the Boss would feel he owes me. Maybe he'd even make me an Under Boss.

On the other hand, what if I find out they really are planning what Castellano thinks they are? What if I offer to whack him for them? They'd owe me. They'd have no choice but to protect me. One of them would more then likely become the Boss and I could still become an Under Boss. They'd be loyal to me.

On the other hand... If they're this untrustworthy, then maybe they'd let me do the job, then turn around and have me whacked.

Wait.

That's three hands. Nobody has three hands. What if somebody out there did have three hands? That'd be fuckin' crazy.

Shit.

My mind is wandering. I really do need some sleep.

Fading...




Fading...




Fading...




Eyes are shut...




* Knock Knock *


I hear the knock and all at once my eyes burst open. Vinny, Sonny and that other guy enter my room. Vinny is the one to speak.


”Mr. Falcon, wake up!”

”Yeah. I'm awake.”


Barely.


”Carlo here has a job for ya.”


Carlo! That's his name!


”What you need, Carlo?”

”I have a buyer for a particular car that I don't have yet. You need to get me that car.”

”You mean steal it?”

”Well... yeah.”


I finally sit up in bed and face my counterparts.


”What kind of car?”

”I just happen to have a picture right here.”


He takes the photo out of his jacket pocket and hands it to me.





”That's a hell of a car.”

”The thing is, its a pretty rare car. The buyer is willing to wait a few months to buy this car. You know, until after the heat dies down and the search is forgotten.”

”Carlo, I didn't know the Boss was in the chop shop business.”

”He's not. This is a little side project I've been workin' on.”


Among other projects, I assume.


”So, will you do it?”

”You mean I have a choice on this one?”

”Yeah, of course. Da Boss isn't involved with this. At the end of the day, you work for him. Not us.

“There's a finders fee, if you do it.”


Finders fee? Time to negotiate.


”What's this car worth on the legit market?”

”About a half a million. Give or take.”

”And in your market?”

”I have it sold for 800 thousand.”

”And the finders fee?”

”Ten percent.”

”That's only 80 grand. We're not even in the same ball park.”


Sonny and Vinny begin to feel some tension and take the opportunity to split.


”What is in your ballpark, Mr. Falcon?”

”300 grand.”

”You're out of your mind!”

”Hey! I'm the one that has to put his ass on the line for this! You mean to tell me that paying me 80 grand compared to your 720 grand is even remotely fair when I could be caught or killed for doing this!?”

”Alright, alright. I get it. I'll give you 150 thousand.”

”Nope.”

”C'mon, Mr. Falcon. You gotta come down. 300 is too much. Yeah, you're putting your ass on the line and I get that. But, its only long enough to get the car from where its stored to where its sold.

“I will continue to put my ass and my reputation on the line each and every day that thing will sit in my garage for the next few months.

“Work with me here!”


He does have a point.


”I'll come down a little. You'll need to understand this is my final offer. It's a take it or leave it deal. Then you'll have to find someone else.”


Carlo takes a seat in a chair in the corner and lights a cigar.


”Let's hear it.”

”Quarter million.”

”Fuck!”


Carlo thrusts himself out of the chair and leans with his head buried in his arm against the wall.


”A quarter of a million is not that steep. Even with the overhead and paying your employees, Carlo. You still stand to make a half million in pure profit.”

”Mr. Falcon, Vincenzo was right about you. You really are a go-getter. I like that. You get the car and you got a deal. A quarter million.”


At long last, I can say it again. Sean Falcon, always wins.