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Authors: Dominic R. Daniels
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problem,” said Jackie.
“I don’t know boys; if Franco starts hitting parts of town with this shit, he could wipe us out,” said Don Felice.
“Better, however, to form a plan than just rush in,” said Michael.
“I agree. You’ve got balls Mike, you just might be made yet. Very well, lay low for now, and we’ll find a solution for this problem in a few days,” said the Don.
“Agreed,” said Michael. The others nodded in approval of this temporary plan.
Mr. Riffman pulled out his earpiece and as he removed his makeup and wig, he put in a call on his cell phone to the big man himself. “Boss it’s Phillips. The secret is out.”
“The Don is too much of a chicken shit to do anything. He’ll rely on his brains in the organization to make decisions for him,” said Franco over the phone, lighting up a Cuban cigar at his desk. “The guy that discovered our weapons works for Santerini. His name is Michael. I’m scanning databases for information on him.” Phillips hacked away on his laptop. “It seems that our guy is my former partner, Michael Victor Damascus from the CIA. This guy was in the top Special Forces unit and was decorated with the Congressional Medal of Honor. I had a feeling it was him when he mentioned Sergio Garcia; no one else had any information on that mission in Spain. It was classified information; he and I were assigned to that mission as partners. I just know he’s the same man who also tried to kill you at your penthouse and who was at the warehouse the other night with that girl,” said Phillips.
“Interesting. This world is full of surprises,” said Franco angrily.
”That’s not all he’s into; it seems through these sources that he has his hands in local business organizations here in town. I’ll dig more up on him. What should I do with him and the girl?”
“What we normally do in a situation like this, Sergeant Phillips, is eliminate the problem,” said Franco.
“Don’t call me that!” Phillips snapped.
“Shut the fuck up and listen to me good, Phillips! For now I want this Damascus alive and healthy if possible. This guy may be more helpful to us alive than dead. After we have what we want from him, then we’ll get rid of him. I want you to send a message to Santerini’s organization that they will never forget. You know what to do,” said Franco.
“What about the girl?”
“Find her and put her out of the way. We don’t want any survivors; too much has already been found out,” said Franco.
“Understood,” said Phillips.
“That’s right Phillips, don’t forget that!”
”One more thing. I recovered our little collection money from Don Santerini’s own hand,” said Phillips.
“Good,” said Franco as he hung up the phone, chuckling wickedly.
Phillips put a call in on his cell to his special guy. “Duval it’s me, call Martinez and hit the Koreans and the Jews and hit them hard. Let’s show these fucks that we own this city,” Phillips commanded arrogantly. During the past eleven years in which crime and drugs had crept back into Vegas, most mobs had grown wise; combining whatever criminal empire mass fortunes they could from alliances with the global crime syndicates they ran. They then formed their own corporations by buying out most of the original corporate owners. The criminal consortiums also involved powerful politicians, stockbrokers, and secret individuals who had vast fortunes in the trillions. Even the president was in on it. In Vegas it was all about money through violence, bribes, or blackmail. That’s why all of Vegas was going to hell.
On the other side of town at the Royal Dragon Palace Casino, a man dressed in casino business attire was working the halls. He was a muscular black guy, wearing a black suit, a tie, with black hair and dark glasses. He looked rough as he walked to the main owner’s office, carrying a black attaché case. Stationed at the large office doors were two bodyguards who patted down the man.
“I don’t know boys; if Franco starts hitting parts of town with this shit, he could wipe us out,” said Don Felice.
“Better, however, to form a plan than just rush in,” said Michael.
“I agree. You’ve got balls Mike, you just might be made yet. Very well, lay low for now, and we’ll find a solution for this problem in a few days,” said the Don.
“Agreed,” said Michael. The others nodded in approval of this temporary plan.
Mr. Riffman pulled out his earpiece and as he removed his makeup and wig, he put in a call on his cell phone to the big man himself. “Boss it’s Phillips. The secret is out.”
“The Don is too much of a chicken shit to do anything. He’ll rely on his brains in the organization to make decisions for him,” said Franco over the phone, lighting up a Cuban cigar at his desk. “The guy that discovered our weapons works for Santerini. His name is Michael. I’m scanning databases for information on him.” Phillips hacked away on his laptop. “It seems that our guy is my former partner, Michael Victor Damascus from the CIA. This guy was in the top Special Forces unit and was decorated with the Congressional Medal of Honor. I had a feeling it was him when he mentioned Sergio Garcia; no one else had any information on that mission in Spain. It was classified information; he and I were assigned to that mission as partners. I just know he’s the same man who also tried to kill you at your penthouse and who was at the warehouse the other night with that girl,” said Phillips.
“Interesting. This world is full of surprises,” said Franco angrily.
”That’s not all he’s into; it seems through these sources that he has his hands in local business organizations here in town. I’ll dig more up on him. What should I do with him and the girl?”
“What we normally do in a situation like this, Sergeant Phillips, is eliminate the problem,” said Franco.
“Don’t call me that!” Phillips snapped.
“Shut the fuck up and listen to me good, Phillips! For now I want this Damascus alive and healthy if possible. This guy may be more helpful to us alive than dead. After we have what we want from him, then we’ll get rid of him. I want you to send a message to Santerini’s organization that they will never forget. You know what to do,” said Franco.
“What about the girl?”
“Find her and put her out of the way. We don’t want any survivors; too much has already been found out,” said Franco.
“Understood,” said Phillips.
“That’s right Phillips, don’t forget that!”
”One more thing. I recovered our little collection money from Don Santerini’s own hand,” said Phillips.
“Good,” said Franco as he hung up the phone, chuckling wickedly.
Phillips put a call in on his cell to his special guy. “Duval it’s me, call Martinez and hit the Koreans and the Jews and hit them hard. Let’s show these fucks that we own this city,” Phillips commanded arrogantly. During the past eleven years in which crime and drugs had crept back into Vegas, most mobs had grown wise; combining whatever criminal empire mass fortunes they could from alliances with the global crime syndicates they ran. They then formed their own corporations by buying out most of the original corporate owners. The criminal consortiums also involved powerful politicians, stockbrokers, and secret individuals who had vast fortunes in the trillions. Even the president was in on it. In Vegas it was all about money through violence, bribes, or blackmail. That’s why all of Vegas was going to hell.
On the other side of town at the Royal Dragon Palace Casino, a man dressed in casino business attire was working the halls. He was a muscular black guy, wearing a black suit, a tie, with black hair and dark glasses. He looked rough as he walked to the main owner’s office, carrying a black attaché case. Stationed at the large office doors were two bodyguards who patted down the man.
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