Cigar Bar (3 page)

“Hey, Frankie, where the fuck are you man?”

“I’m at my house. Tony, where are you, man?”

“I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes, man. I gotta talk to you.”

Frankie was happy to hear that. “Good, I’m glad you’re on the way. I need you, man; you gotta hurry up. We got a lot of shit to do.”

“Okay, but, listen, I gotta tell you something, man.”

Frankie said, “Yeah, Tony, just hurry up and bring your fuckin’ ass here!”

Tony drove two hours to his cousin’s house in Tenafly, New Jersey. When he pulled up, Frankie was outside waiting. Frank jumped into his car and handed Tony a .45.

“What the fuck is this for?” Tony asked.

“Just drive down to the pier. We got some business down there,” Frankie replied.

Tony asked, “What kind of business?”

“You’ll find out when we get there, cuz. All you have to do is make sure that when we get to where we’re going, these fucks see that gun.”

Tony kept glancing at the gun while he drove. He looked at the bottom and noticed that there was no clip.

“Frank, there ain’t no fuckin’ bullets in this thing! What the hell, man?”

“Hey, it’s cool. It’s just for show. I don’t want these motherfuckers to think that I’m some fuckin’ sideshow punk. I wanna at least look official.” Then he smiled.

But Tony’s mind was somewhere else. He wanted to tell Frankie about what had just happened with Sherry and Paulie, but he was concerned about what Frankie was getting him into.
Shit
, he thought to himself.
I love you, Frankie, but you’re always getting me into some shit.
He brushed his thoughts off with little concern. He knew Frankie; it was probably some low-level dealer he was trying to get something from.

As they arrived at the pier, Tony saw five huge men standing in a garage doorway. The men waved Tony in. He pulled into the garage.

“Okay, listen, Tone. Don’t say a fuckin’ word! Just pull out the gun, stand near the car, and I’ll do the rest.”

They exited the car and Frank walked up to the men. Each man was holding an Uzi. They motioned for whoever was in the car to get out. Another man exited from the backseat of a black Lincoln Town Car.

Frankie walked over to a 14-foot truck, unlocked the back, and rolled the gate up. There were five blue 55-gallon drums inside the back of the truck.

He climbed up the back and opened up one of the containers. He jumped down and stood next to it. The little man from the car climbed up, took a scoop out of the drum, and walked over to a little table. He sat down, pulled out a brief case, and then he said something in Ukrainian to the man in the backseat. The man nodded his head. He began by taking a small sample of whatever was in the cup. He scooped it out and put it into a small glass. He added some liquid and whatever was in there turned blue. The man looked toward the Lincoln and nodded his head to indicate that all was good.

The window rolled down and the man in the car motioned one of his security guards over. The guard placed his machine gun on the table, went to the trunk, and pulled out two briefcases. He walked over to Frank and handed them to the man. As soon as this was complete, the man exited the backseat of the car and approached Frankie. With a big smile on his face, he walked over, grabbed Frank’s hand, and shook it vigorously and forcefully.

In a heavy Ukrainian accent, he whispered to Frankie, “Now, I thank you for trusting me to move your product, and now I’ll give you five hundred thousand dollars of my money. When I sell the rest, I’ll give you one million more, as we discussed.”

Frankie stood there with a bead of sweat sliding down his left cheek. He began to look really nervous. The man continued. “Now that our business is complete, we will have a drink. Grigori, get me a bottle of vodka!”

Frankie was in a hurry. He just wanted to get out of there quick. “No, that’s okay, Mr. Yehorenko. I got a lot of stuff to handle. I’m gonna have to take a rain check.”

“Well, you know, in my country, it’s customary to have a drink after business,” he said as he squeezed the man’s hand. But Frankie was anxious and he began to sweat a little more. The Ukrainian noticed. “What is wrong with you? Why do you sweat like this?”

Frankie looked around the room at the men with the guns and decided to play another angle. “Hey, why not? One drink won’t hurt, right?”

The man smiled as he poured a shot of vodka for himself and one for Frankie. The boss toasted the completion of their business. Frankie hurried up, jumped into the car with Tony, and they drove off. As they drove away, Frankie began to laugh hysterically.

“What the fuck was that all about, Frankie?” Tony asked.

“Man, I tell you, some people are just fuckin’ plain old stupid!” he replied.

“Frankie, just what the hell are you talking about?”

“Well, those Ukrainian fucks just gave me half a million dollars for a truckload of fuckin’ flour!” He laughed like he was going insane.

Tony was stunned. “They did what?!” he asked incredulously. “You mean to tell me that you got me into some shit with the Ukrainian mafia? Are you fuckin’ crazy? Do you know what those fuckin’ guys are gonna do when they find out what the hell you did? Fuck!”

Frankie was boastful. “Hey,
fuck
them! They better not
think
about messing with us or our fuckin’ family. I will wipe them off the face of the earth! They don’t stand a chance against us. We run New York!” he said, imitating Jay Z.

However, Tony knew better. He knew that the Ukrainian mob didn’t care about anybody. They were a ruthless bunch who made sure that when they did something to someone, it was heinous. Nine times out of ten, it made headline news. Now all Tony thought about was what he was now involved in. He was here with Frankie, robbing the mafia from another country,
and
Paulie was on his tail. He knew that when Paulie caught up to him, he would be a dead man.

“Fuck!
” He screamed out loudly. “What the fuck is next?”
he muttered to himself as he drove down the street, swearing frantically.

Frankie was all laughs, however. “Hey, cuz, take it easy, man. Let’s go back to the house, grab those fuckin’ young, black broads from Harlem. We’ll cop some drugs and get some drinks. Let’s fuckin’ party!”

Tony was not in a partying mood. He wanted to run. He thought about all the madness that he had just gotten himself into over the past six hours. “Fuck it!” he said, deciding to go for it and have a good time. “You know what, Frankie? Let’s do it. Let’s have some fuckin’ fun!”

“Now you’re talking my language, cuz,” Frankie replied, then picked up his phone and dialed Spazo in Harlem.

He laughed and asked, “Hey, Spazo, what’s up, my ace boon coon?”

“Frankie, I’m gonna tell you this one time. If you call me out my name again, you’re a dead motherfucker!” the man said over the speaker of the phone. “Also, I don’t give a
fuck
about who your family is.
They
won’t even be able to find your ass.”

“Hey, easy, my man. I was only fuckin’ around,” Frankie replied.

“I don’t play those kinda fuckin’ games! You got it?” Spazo countered.

“Okay, okay. Well, listen. My cuz and I are gonna drive on over to Harlem. I need to see you for a few things.”

Spazo inquired, “How much you got?”

“No, my man, the question is: How much do
you
got?” Frankie laughed over the phone. “Let’s do it like this, Spazo. I’m gonna bring you, say, five thousand. What can you do for me? Now, mind you, I want everything from dope to powder, and I can tell you that I’m even gonna take care of that little bit of cash I owe you and with interest. How does that sound?”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you soon,” said Spazo.

When they hung up, Tony told Frankie all that had gone down with Paulie and Sherry.

Frankie was stunned and said, “Fuck, man! You fucked that pretty, little ass? Oh, man! You’re a piece of shit!” Frank laughed. “So, how was it? Was she good? Did she suck your dick? Ah, man, please tell me everything. I want details, man.”

Tony realized something: He had just ruined this girl’s life. He also realized that he really
did
care about her, and he wanted to make it right. He actually had it in his mind that when he had the chance, he was going to marry her.

“Frankie, I gotta make this right, man. I’ve ruined that girl’s life, and Paulie ain’t gonna stop until he fuckin’ gets me. I know it!” said Tony.

“Well, cuz, all I can tell you is, you made your bed, now you gotta lay in it. Hey, besides, what’s done is done. My mind is now on that cute, fuckin’ black chick Monique. Ah, man, she is one fuckin’ piece of hot meat! When she and her friend get here, we’re gonna have ourselves an old-school orgy! You with me, cuz?” Frankie asked excitedly.

Tony paused and thought about all the shit that he had just gotten into. “Fuck it! Yeah, man, let’s fuckin’ party.” Then he pressed on the gas and accelerated.

“I was wondering what the fuck happened to your ride,” Frankie asked. “When we go get these chicks, we’ll take my car. Stop here on Packer Ave. until we go meet Spazo. I wanna grab some rock and dope from my man D.”

Tony pulled the car over to the curb. Before Frankie jumped out, he reached into the briefcase and pulled out $400. He walked up the block. About four young, black guys were outside playing dice on the corner.

When they saw Frankie arrive, they stopped midgame. Tony looked on from inside the car. There was a brief conversation with the young men, and then Frankie handed one of them the money. The man disappeared down the alley.

Tony was sitting in the car, deep in thought. “Sherry, Sherry,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, Sherry. I’m so sorry,” he kept repeating.

He was remembering how innocent Sherry looked the moment that she sniffed the heroin. He soon realized that he probably gave the young girl a lifelong bad habit. Then Tony began to remember how he took advantage of her, and he felt horrible about himself. A single tear escaped from his eye as he thought about what he had done. Memories of younger Sherry growing up clouded his brain. He remembered walking her to the store when she was seven years old and telling everybody that she was his little sister.

To think of what he had done to someone he loved so much really tugged at his heart. He snapped out of it, pain setting in. Tony realized that he hadn’t had a shot of dope since before the incident with Sherry. “Oh, shit!” he said. He looked out of the window, his eyes searching for Frankie. Suddenly, it felt as though Frankie had been gone for hours, when, in reality, it had only been five minutes.

He began to sweat vigorously, as if someone had poured a cup of water over the top of his head. His mouth was drenched with saliva, and he felt like throwing up. Then he had to use the bathroom. His stomach began to bubble. He thought he just had to pass gas, but it was more than he expected. Before he could stop it, he crapped in his pants. The more he tried to stop, the more his stomach hurt. He found himself bent over in the front seat, sweating and dirtying himself with the putrid stench of feces.

Then, once again, he was snapped out of his trance. “Hey, Tony! Tony! Open the fuckin’ door, man!”

He looked up and saw his cousin banging on the window with terror in his eyes, trying to get in. Coming up fast behind him were the men who were on the corner playing dice, guns drawn and pointing in their direction.

Tony unlocked the door and let his cousin in.

Frankie turned to the men and said, “It’s cool, I got him.”

One of the men screamed out, “Get the fuck off the block with all that fucking noisy white-boy shit! You drawing heat.”

“Sorry, I got him,” Frankie replied. He looked at Tony. “What the fuck is wrong with you, man? You were in a fuckin’ zone, bent over, blowing the fuckin’ horn! I’ve been banging on the window for about a minute! Let’s get the fuck outta here before these fuckin’ Mulligans kill us.” Then he asked, “What the hell is that smell?
Oh, fuck!
Did you shit on yourself or something?
Fuck!”
He lowered his window and then stuck his head out. He continued. “Man, you need to crack the fuckin’ windows. Oh shit!
Gotdamn!
” The men pulled off toward Frankie’s house.

Tony glared at him. “Frankie, I need a shot, man. I’m hurting. We gotta stop.”

“Chill out, cuz. Wait ’til we get to the house, then we’ll take care of everything,” Frankie replied.

“No, I can’t wait!” Tony said with anger, pulling the car over.

“Okay, man, here,” Frankie said, handing Tony a couple bags of dope.

Tony fumbled with his works as he prepared a shot for himself. He cooked it, then began to shoot it into his veins. At the same time, Frankie had the crack pipe in his mouth and was taking a hit. Suddenly, they heard a police siren. The men turned, looked back, and saw the police right behind them.

In unison, they said, “Oh, shit!”

In an instant, their highs were ruined. Although neither could control their actions, the drugs were taking effect. Tony began to nod off while Frankie hid the drug paraphernalia. His mouth moved from side to side as if he was a cow chewing grass. His eyes were as wide as a car with its high beams on. Sweat poured from both men’s faces.

Frankie grabbed Tony and shook him hard. “Wake the fuck up, man!”

Tony snapped out of it when he heard, “Put your fuckin’ hands on the steering wheel and don’t move!”

The men yelled, “Damn!”

CHAPTER 2

• • •

Paulie was at the hospital
with Sherry. The doctors had given her Ambien to counteract the drug’s effect on her. Paulie was pissed off and crying. His boys had never seen him so distraught and broken, and they didn’t like it. They knew that Tony was a dead man, and they all vowed to catch the piece of shit. Paulie sat in the hospital with his little sister, just watching her and feeling helpless. He sent a text message out to his boys to find Tony at any cost, noting that the man who brought Tony to him would receive $10,000.

But what he didn’t know was that just down the hall from him, in the ICU, was Tony’s father, Tony Senior. Tony’s father ran the scrap metal yard, and he never had to lift a finger to do any work. Today he had to supervise a dropoff of some scrap metal that came from a huge company. During the unloading, a propane tank exploded and sent steel rods flying everywhere. One of the rods impaled Tony Senior’s head and was sticking out the back. It was obvious that the old man wasn’t going to live long. In fact, the doctors were amazed that he was still alive.

He repeated, “I need to speak to my son. I’m not leaving this Earth until I speak to my boy.”

His wife was hysterical seeing her spouse in such a horrific condition, but Tony Senior had reassured her that all would be okay. Now all they could do was sit and wait for their son to arrive. The other family members surrounded the bed, losing hope that the patriarch would live.

The priest was pacing around the room and praying, but Tony Senior stopped him. They all knew each other by their first names. “Hey, John, do me a favor and save the prayers for when I’m gone, or at least say them a little quieter. Hell, you’re depressing me!” He laughed along with everyone else in the room.

But the laughter died as everyone stared at the steel rod protruding from his head. “Hey, come on now,” Tony Senior said. “I led a good life and I’m not afraid.” Then he looked at his wife. “Daniela, you have been the best thing to happen to me in this world, and I wanna thank you for sharing your life with me.”

As he talked, a tear crawled down his face, which then made his wife cry. Tony Senior’s brothers were not too macho to let their feelings be known as they, too, began to tear up.

Then he continued. “You wanna know something, sweetheart? Your name means that God is my judge. I looked it up one day, and with you right here next to me, I know that I will be going to the right place. He could have taken me right then and there, but He didn’t. This means that He wants to let me know that He has me. And that you, Daniela, my angel, have been watching over me for thirty years. I love you now and I will always be watching over you.” Then he pulled her head in close and gave her a kiss.

Daniela began to cry hysterically. One of the brothers grabbed Daniela and pulled her into the hallway, where the main boss, Veto, was. One of the underbosses came up too.

“Hey, Boss, I got the info you wanted. The scrap came from Jersey, from that Ukrainian fuck, Mr. Yehorenko.”

“You mean those fuckers who run all the dope outta Jersey?”

“Yeah, that’s them. How do you wanna handle it?”

“Shit, I don’t know. Those motherfuckers are a wild bunch. His fuckin’ men walk around with machine guns, and shit.” Veto walked a little ways down the hall and was in deep thought. He had one hand in his pocket and the other on his chin. Then it clicked. “I got it! We’re gonna send this motherfucker a message; a strong one. Shit, he fuckin’ killed my brother!” he said as he looked in the window at his brother fading in and out. “I want you to find out all the projects they’re working on and burn them to the fuckin’ ground! Then I wanna send a squad over to this piece of shit’s house and take him out. If there’s anybody around, take them out too. I don’t care if it’s his fuckin’ five-year-old daughter! I want them all dead, and I want this shit done yesterday! You got it?”

“I’m on it, Boss!” Giovanni grabbed a couple of guys who were there with him, and they headed out to take care of the task at hand.

Veto went back into the hospital room, walked over to his brother, bent down, and whispered in his ear, “I’m taking care of this one for you, Tony.”

Tony looked up at his brother and said, “No! I don’t want anybody to die because of an accident.”

Veto was stunned. He looked down at his brother and said, “What? How the
fuck
could you say something like that? Just look at you!!”

“It’s okay. Just promise me that nobody will die, Veto. Please, promise me that! I wanna go to heaven, and if I let you do this, then I believe I won’t make it in. Just promise me that no one will get hurt. Please, Veto, I’m begging here.”

Veto was pissed but it was his brother’s dying wish that no one got hurt, so he had to promise him. “All right, all right. Shit! I gotta send him some kinda message, Tony, or they’ll think that they can get away with this type of shit all the time.”

“Okay, but nobody gets hurt, right?” Tony Senior asked.

“Yeah, you got it, bro,” Veto replied, walking into the hallway to call his men off. He said, “Giovanni, I want you to burn down every piece of property they own, but make sure nobody is inside.” He ended the call and he was really pissed off.

Right down the hall, Paulie had a few men sitting outside the door, keeping guard. Two officers walked up and were stopped by his bodyguards.

“Listen to me, faggot! If you don’t put your fuckin’ hands down by your side, I’m gonna break them off and shove them so far up your ass that you’re gonna be tickling your spleen! Now, move the fuck out of my way, bitch!”

The officer stared the man down real hard, but the bodyguard didn’t flinch. Paulie looked up and nodded, allowing the officers access.

As the officers walked in, they looked at the man at the door and promised him an ass whooping in the near future.

The cops were Detectives John Murphy and Driscoll O’Connor. They took being Irish cops in New York to the max. They even had fake Irish accents. Whenever they got off work, all they did was drink. They didn’t hide their racist hatred for black people, and the two thought that they were in control because they had those badges. For those who didn’t respect them, they gave what they called an Irish beating. They put you in the back of their squad car, drove you to a secluded area, and beat your body up with a little leather tool that had an iron ball inside.

But now they were facing one of the meanest pricks around, Paulie. All the police knew who he was and what he did, but because of his affiliation with the Santoro family, he got away with a lot. Therefore, when Driscoll and Murphy caught the case involving his little sister, they decided that it was time to make a name for themselves and take the all-powerful Paulie down.

“So, how can I help you fellas? Paulie asked.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Paulie,” Driscoll said, making sure to have his hand inside his pants pocket so his gun could be seen.

As Driscoll walked in, trying to intimidate Paulie, Murphy was busy making faces and throwing air punches at the back of Paulie’s men’s heads. Murphy was a diminutive man who used to get his ass beat in school. He never played sports and never really had a relationship with a woman that he didn’t pay for until he got on the police force. And even then, he fell in love with one of the black prostitutes he used to visit. Like Driscoll, hating black men was one thing, but they rationalized that sexing their women was truly a pleasure.

“So, Paulie, what happened to your little sister? I hear she’s doing the same shit that you sell. Now, don’t get me wrong, but I thought you wouldn’t sell to anybody but the niggers, but here you go and get your little sister hooked on that shit! What a fuckin’ shame!” Driscoll said as he sat down in a chair across from Paulie.

His little sister was unconscious and on a ventilator. Paulie looked up at the man and barked, “Why are you here, pig?”

“Oh shit, did he just call us pigs? Wow, I gotta say, that’s the first time I’ve ever heard that,” Driscoll said as the men began to laugh.

Paulie balled his fist in anger. He didn’t want to hear what these fucks had to dish out, especially now. “Listen, motherfuckers! I don’t have time for your bullshit right now, so do me a favor and get the
fuck
out of this room before I have you two escorted out the hard way!”

As soon as he said that, his boys stepped up and surrounded the two officers. The looks on their faces were serious. For a minute, the two officers seemed a little shook, but they tried their best to be tough.

“Oh yeah? Which one of you assholes wants to be the first to die?” Both pulled out their guns right there in the room.

As he entered the room, the doctor yelled, “Stop it!! Stop it right now! For God’s sake, this is a hospital, not a damn street corner!”

The officers put away their weapons and made their way to the door. The doctor went to check on little Sherry.

“Listen up, Paulie,” Driscoll said, a look of concern on his face. He peered at the young girl lying so still in the bed and shook his head from side to side. As he exited the room, he whispered in a faint voice, “I hope she gets better.”

Murphy understood his partner’s action because he had a daughter Sherry’s age. Driscoll treated her like she was his own daughter. The officers said nothing else and just headed back to the station.

As the doctor examined Sherry, Paulie walked into the hall to speak with his guys. “Any word on that fuck Tony yet?”

“No, not yet, Paulie, but we think he went over to his cousin’s house in Jersey.”

Paulie slammed into them. “Okay, what the fuck are you waiting for? I want you to be in his fuckin’ cereal when he opens the box! I want him fuckin’ dead, but I want you to bring him to
me
! Do me a favor: Get the fuck out of my face, and go find this motherfucker!”

“Right away, Paulie,” the men said as they hustled out of the hospital.

Paulie waited in the hallway as the doctor came out. He approached him. “What’s the verdict, Doc?”

“Well, besides her blood pressure being a bit elevated, she is going to be okay. The elevation was caused by the ingestion of the drug, and it should level out within an hour. We gave her a sedative so that she can sleep it off. When she does awake, she is going to have a severe headache.”

“No, Doc. I’m wondering if she’s gonna have a drug habit from this shit!” Paulie interrupted.

The doctor replied, “That I cannot tell you. However, if she never uses drugs again, her chances of addiction are decreased one hundred percent. Then again, if drugs are within her reach, there is a chance that she might want to experience that feeling again. My suggestion is to keep her away from this. It truly is bad for the body and the mind.” The doctor placed his hand on Paulie’s shoulder in a compassionate gesture and continued. “Listen, she’s a strong girl. I’m sure that with you in her corner, she’ll be just fine.” He left Sherry’s room.

Paulie looked down at his sister lying there and his anger grew. He gently moved her hair from her face and leaned over to kiss her forehead. “Don’t worry, lil’ sis. We’re gonna get through this shit together, and that motherfuckin’ Tony is a dead man! I promise.” With that, Paulie walked into the hallway to make a call.

Meanwhile, outside in the parking lot, Spazo’s crew waited. “Yo, Spazo, check this out. He still up in the hospital. I don’t think he’s coming out tonight, but if he does, what’s our next move?”

What Paulie didn’t know was that Spazo had a couple of his boys down the block at a young Italian girl’s house. This girl hated Paulie because he had cut her off from getting any drugs when she got pregnant. His boys saw everything from the shooting at Tony to when they rushed the young girl to the hospital, and now they waited for orders.

“Well, just sit tight. Black should be arriving soon. He’ll take it from there.” Then the men hung up.

“There he go right there,” said one of the men posted outside, pointing to the Range Rover pulling up in the spot behind them.

Nobody got out of their cars. As soon as they pulled up, the other car pulled off.

Out walked Paulie 15 minutes later, flanked by three men. They were so distraught over the situation with his little sister that no one paid any attention to the tinted-out Range Rover. A black Lincoln pulled up, and one of the men opened the door for Paulie. They all got into the vehicle and drove away. They drove down the street, unaware of the truck that followed behind.

“Give Spazo a call,” the man said.

“Hello?”

“Yo, Spazo, he’s in front of me.”

“Okay, cool. Take care of that.”

Spazo dialed his phone and said, “It’s a go.”

What Paulie didn’t know was that his world was about to be flipped upside down. The long feud between him and Spazo was about to come to a complete halt. Spazo had two cars waiting outside each of Paulie’s stash houses and cash spots loaded with thugs who were fully strapped and ready to murder. Their orders were to go in, take everything, and leave no witnesses. And the crew at the hospital, well, their job was to kill the boss himself. It was just plain luck for Spazo that all of the day’s events happened and Paulie had to leave his house.

Click-clack.
The man in the truck cocked his shotgun when they pulled up to a light. Paulie saw it, but just a little bit too late.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
The shotgun blasts shattered the Lincoln.

The driver-side window exploded and he was now one with his passenger. His brains were all over the place because, before the man could react, he was torn to shreds.

Paulie, in the midst of all the chaos, managed to snatch his gun. Although it was hard, he succeeded in grabbing the other two men in the backseat. They were able to get off a couple of shots, but the man on Paulie’s side took two shots to the chest. He was a ghost now. Paulie was good. In one swift motion, he managed to open the door to his right while firing a shot. The shot was either good luck or intense skill because he hit the man square in the head. It was as if the guy had a bull’s eye right on his forehead. He plunged to his knees, dead.