Wannabe Wise Guy

[vinnygorgeous]

A sister story to my BUYG story

 

Wannabe Wise Guy: Cosa Nostra Associate Johnny Boy Salvato's Rise and Fall

 

Chapter One: His Father's Son

 

With every new generation of Mafiosi the betrayal of innocence grows evermore, the sons who follow in the footsteps of their fathers are lost to the world and destined to share the fate and demons of their grandfathers.

 

Joseph Salvato was born into a third generation mob family, his father Giorgio was an associate with the Messina Crime Family, a small time numbers operator and loan shark with a propensity for violence and a short temper. Giorgio, a slight bespectacled man with a crew cut was never destined for greatness; as a child he soon grew to hate school and barely learned to read and write; encouraged by his father, Salvatore, to enrol in a street education instead, the young Giorgio began to hang around the East Holland Italian Social Club, the mob hang out for the Carmine Sagese crew, to which his father belonged. From there he was schooled in the dark arts of organized crime, at sixteen he committed his first murder, and by twenty one he was carved of stone in an image of his father.

 

Fatherhood brought hope to Giorgio’s otherwise destructive life and in Joseph he could see his redemption, his priorities changed from the Family to his own family, the light at the end of the tunnel was no longer membership to the Messinas, it was the blossoming of the Salvatos, but even with his new outlook, he was unable to avoid the pitfalls of the honoured society. Giorgio went into a partnership with Vincent Tramaglia in a parking lot racket: an extra parking tax was levied on customers which was then skimmed off the top straight into the pockets of the mobsters. Tramaglia was a difficult man who revelled in humiliating wannabes and citizens; Giorgio made the fatal mistake of replying with equally cruel banter. Tramaglia never forgot the slight and when he heard that Sagese was going to open the books and straighten out Giorgio; he realised that his window for revenge was closing and went to his monthly meet with Giorgio with an ulterior motive.

 

Tramaglia was a tall blond man of thirty four who never shied away from doing his own dirty work. The two always met in the early hours of the morning when the lot was nearly always empty. When Giorgio pulled in, in his black Sentinel, he could see Tramaglia’s black PMP600 was already parked at the back of the lot, pulling up next to it, he opened his door and walked around to the front passenger side door. Tramaglia leaned over to open the door, “You been here long?” Giorgio asked, “No get in” Tramaglia replied, “it’s been a good week we’ve done alright you know.” Giorgio said with a wry smile, before asking, “what’s that you got there?” pointing at the parcel wrapped in cloth in Tramaglia’s hand, “oh this” he said before letting out a hoarse throaty laugh and lifting the parcel up to Giorgio’s face. Two muzzle flashes accompanied by the muffled noise of two nine millimetre bullets going through a silencer lit up the car. Giorgio slumped lifelessly against the car door. Tramaglia leaned over, opening the door and pushing the body out on to parking lot floor, muttering profanities as he slammed the door shut and turned the key in the ignition in one rapid movement before driving away at pace.

 

The young Joseph then only eight turned to his uncles for a fatherly influence, the three remaining brothers were all involved in the Pavano Crime Family, although only Carmine the eldest was made.

Carmine Salvato was in the Nicky Manotti crew in Little Italy along with Vincent Salvato. The youngest brother Salvatore was in a Broker crew. Joseph who had been shielded from his fathers world was now introduced to wise guy society and culture through his uncles, who would take him to social activities at store front hangouts, and to wakes and funerals. The young Joseph picked up on Cosa Nostra protocol and saw how his uncles crooked deals were arranged, by ten Joseph had his own mob nickname, Johnny Boy, and was a fledgling mafioso.

 

Josephs mother Danielle, appalled by her in-laws influence over her son, moved to Alderney in an attempt to steer him away from the mafia. Johnny Boy had other ideas though and simply started hanging around Pavano mob hang outs in Alderney. Via an introduction from Carmine he soon found himself under the wing of Michelino “Mikey” DiPilato, a soldier in the Alfonso DeMeo crew, who used him to run errands. Under DiPilato’s tutelage Johnny Boy blossomed into a shrewd operator, skilled in running numbers and managing a shy book, it wasn’t long before the teenager prospered enough to move away from his mothers influence in the family home. Out on his own he devoted himself to his mafia endeavours full time and started to put his own money out on the street; even though he was slight in build, the Pavano name enabled him to exert pressure on men twice his size.

 

Now twenty one, Johnny Boy was considered by his peers to be an amico nostro, a good guy, and on the Monday of the twenty second of March he headed out with DiPilato on a routine collection, “So who is this guy?” he asked, “It’s the guy who owns the Grocery store on Bridger Street” DiPilato answered blowing the smoke from his cigar into Johnny Boy’s face, making him cough, “thanks” he said sarcastically before opening his window then saying, “I think I have played cards with him.”. Taking another deep inhalation from his cigar, DiPilato grinned and said, “probably he is a degenerate gambler.”

 

Now on Bridger Street they parked and walked to the store, the door beeped as they entered alerting the shop assistant to their presence. DiPilato was a robust, if slightly overweight figure; now in his forties his black hair had prematurely started to grey; he strolled up to the counter with Johnny Boy in tow, “Hey buddy is your boss around?” he asked glaring at the assistant who nervously replied “Yes he is, but I don’t think he wants to be disturbed.” DiPilato jumped over the counter and pushed past the stunned assistant, “we’re old friends he will want to see us, c’mon Johnny Boy, chop chop.” Johnny Boy hopped over and followed DiPilato down a narrow corridor and up the stairs leading to the residence above the shop. A voice called out from one of the rooms, “Is somebody there?” drawn on by the voice the two men came face to face with the Deli owner, Mr Singh, “you got our money?” DiPilato barked, a startled Mr Singh looked at the two men for a moment before answering, “I do but I wasn’t expecting you today, can I get it to you tomorrow?”. DiPilato moved his hand over a bulge in his tracksuit that was easily recognisable as a gun to the nervous Mr Singh before saying, “tomorrow then, we will be here same time as today.”.

 

The two men laughed as they left, helping themselves to cigarettes and chocolate on their way out of the Deli then when back in the car Johnny Boy asked, “maybe we should of hurt him.” DiPilato let out a deep belly laugh before answering, “tomorrow kid tomorrow.”

Edited June 15, 2009 by vinnygorgeous

[Shane101]

Pretty good story, it has all the tools for a mob story.

[vinnygorgeous]

thanks

Edited May 26, 2009 by vinnygorgeous

[vinnygorgeous]

Chapter Two: Murder The Betrayal Of Destiny

 

Johnny Boy Salvato was on the bottom rung of the Mafia’s hierarchy, his orders were always passed down the line through intermediaries; so when he was invited for a private conversation with Caporegime Alfonso DeMeo, the day was already out of the ordinary. “My nephew.” DeMeo pointed to the family portrait hanging on the wall, Johnny Boy recognised his boss but none of the others, “He was kidnapped for ransom; I paid, but they killed him anyway. The man responsible has been found.” DeMeo paused briefly overcome by emotion, he had to steady himself before continuing. “I want you to do this piece of work for me.” Johnny Boy answered with two brief words, “It’s done.” visibly pleased DeMeo added, “when it’s done I’ll make it official.” Johnny Boy smiled and for a moment was speechless, “I don’t know what to say; this is so unexpected.” DeMeo put his arm around him and quietly said, “you’ve earned it; Mickey will feel you in on the details.”

 

DiPilato explained the target was an Irish thug who frequented a local Berchem pub, “What’s it called this place, Mickey?” DiPilato laughed which flustered Johnny Boy, thinking he had unwittingly embarrassed himself without knowing why; Johnny Boy furrowed his brow and exclaimed, “what?". DiPilato pulled out a strip of matches from his pocket and held it so Johnny Boy could read it, Leprechauns Winkle Picker, “There’s really a place called that?” DiPilato let out another deep belly laugh before explaining, “The Irish are crazy!”.

 

The two men walked down the road to a parked PMP600, DiPilato opened the boot to reveal an array of firearms and several boxes of ammunition, “I would think the Glock would be the best option, you better take a couple of clips.” Johnny Boy quickly gathered the clips, gun and a box of bullets.

“Could use a silencer?"

“There’s one in the glove box.” DiPilato replied as he opened the drivers door; they entered the parked car and Johnny Boy immediately started to take the 10mm bullets out of the box and place them in the clip, one by one, when both clips were full, he slid one in before banging it in place then pulling back the slid and screwing on a silencer.

 

After the short drive they parked in the alley over the road from the Leprechauns Winkle Picker, “Try and get him outside, we don’t want any witnesses.” Johnny Boy suddenly felt something that he hadn't in years, a growing sense of dread, he was not sure if it was nerves or guilt; he thought of his father and how he had wanted an honest life for him and how he would always say: Murder is The Betrayal of Destiny

But then he thought of his uncles and how proud they would be that he was making his bones. After all he thought the guy had killed in cold blood, an eye for an eye.

 

The Leprechauns Winkle Picker was a quintessential Irish watering hole; on the corner of Babbage Drive and Farnsworth Road it was a large pub with a rectangular bar at its centre, surrounded on all sides by booths and tables. At this time of the day the only patrons were the full time drunks who were lost and oblivious to the world, in equal measure.

“Over there at end of the bar, green coat, you see him?”

“Yeah I see him, you staying?”

“Not today kid, I’ll see ya”

Johnny Boy took the seat next the Irish man and ordered a beer. The Irish man looked up from his glass and in an slurred Broker accent muttered, “Alright boy?” Johnny Boy smiled, took out a cigar then replied, “You want one?”

“Aye I do.”

The barman quickly interjected, “Not in here, you’ll have to go outside.” the Irishman downed his drink and exclaimed, “fascists will ban drinking in public next! C’mon boy lets stand outside.” the Irish drunk and Johnny Boy made their way to the door; Johnny Boy could hardly believe his luck, he had anticipated several hours of gentle coaxing to get this result. The street outside was bustling with potential witnesses so Johnny Boy deliberately bumped into a passer-by, “Watch where your going buddy!” he then turned to the Irish drunk and suggested that, “we should go over the road, there’s the alley that cuts through to Edison Avenue, enjoy these without people walking into us.”

“Yeah sure boy, and by the way my names Mick.”

“Pleased to meet you Mick I’m John.”

The alley was empty and the two men enjoyed their cigars, laughing and joking as if they were old friends who hadn’t seen each other for years. Mick turned and pointed towards Edison Avenue, “Just there, the greatest Chinese take away in Berchem.” he turned back around to discover he was staring down the barrel of a gun; panic set in, adrenaline fused with alcohol and pumped through his veins. Time slowed down, he could hear every soaring heart beat as if they were the ticking hands of a clock. Fight or flight he knew he had to act but he was paralysed by fear, rooted to the spot he tried to speak, to plead for his life, but all that came out was a hoarse croak.

 

Johnny Boy emerged from the alley and got back in the PMP600, “Its done” DiPilato chuckled his way though saying how proud he was, “their going to give you your stripe for this kid; Ray told me.”

“Al said that to me too.”

“Johnny Boy Salvato the Pavano Soldato”

“How long you been waiting to saying that?”

“Too long kid, too long.”

Edited June 15, 2009 by vinnygorgeous

[Ziggy455]

I'm enjoying this story, it's got that old mafiosa atmosphere to it.

 

nice one Vinny.

[Tyla]

The description, the detail, the authenticity of a true Mob story, while also remaining true to the GTA series with locations, cars and streets. I particularly liked the other locations you have come up with, such as the East Holland Italian Social Club, and the Irish Pub. The moments leading up to the death in Chapter Two were well described, and painted the picture really well. Good job!

[vinnygorgeous]

Thank you so much for the kind words, unfortunately the Irish pub was not my creation, I would love to take the credit for it but it's a genuine location in the game.