When I got to know Charlie they brought me into the old warehouse down at the pier. It was empty, just two chairs standing in the middle of it. Charlie was sitting on one of them, his face covered by the shadow so I couldn't see it. The guys sat me down and went back to the main doors. It was just like in an old Mafia movie. I saw smoke coming from Charlie's direction. He was a heavy smoker and he'd always been, as I found out later. Then he began to talk to me, his smoke floating into my direction and making my asthma even worse than the harbor air full of diesel. He said : "They call me the old man. I'm just 35 and they call me old man. D'you know why they call me old man ?" I shook my head and saw the smoke floating from side to side. Charlie was looking around, scanning the area for uninvited guests. Then he spoke again : "They call me old man because I'm in this business for twenty years now. No one `s ever been in this business for twenty years. Just me. And I will be in this damn business for all the time in the world just because I'm the best." I felt strange but at that time I didn't want to kill him. He was a creep, a complete idiot and when he bent forward so that I could see his face I saw a man of 27 or so. Later I found out that no one had ever called him ´old man´ - that was just a trick. But at that day down there in that old warehouse he seemed to be the man he said he was. So he bent forward and I could see his grey eyes. They were cold as ice I thought, I guess that was a deja vu from a movie. So I sat there having him telling me what a great gangster he was. After some time I wasn't listening to him anymore. I looked around in the warehouse and I saw at least ten bodyguards of his and I just couldn't think of anyone who would want to kill that freak. But then he asked me something and I simply didn't listen and thus I didn't know what to answer. So I nodded. And he said : "What ? Can't ya speak or what ?" So I replied : "Yeah, I mean no. You know, man. My answer is yes." So he nodded and blue smoke made me cough. Then he smiled and took out a gun, a pretty big one, and I thought that lousy bastard would blast my brains out. Well he didn't. He gave that gun to me and said : "Go out, kill someone, a mailman or something like that, cut off his ear and bring it to me. I think I like ya style." I sat there staring at that gun and him in turns. I had never killed any of these buggers out there before. He sat back and his face vanished in the shadow again. He waved his hand and automatically I stood up. Even if this guy was a creepy liar, he had a certain aura for sure. So I went out on the street where some of the homeless folks were hanging around. I thought that nobody would miss them anyways. I aimed at one, lying around in the dirt, and I was pretty sure I'd shoot him. But when I was about to pull the trigger a cat jumped at him and he rolled over. That bastard must have been dead for about a week and suddenly I started to puke on the ground. When I finished I took our my knife and cut off an ear of that hobo corpse. I went back and threw that ear just before Charlie's feet. The lights went on and I could see him clearly now. He was a small, black, skinny bastard but his eyes were shining brighter than the neonlamps. And then I noticed it. That warehouse was full of stuff. Anything, name it, it was there. Charlie, seeing me astonished, led me through the warehouse and showed me everything. He introduced me to the bodyguards and made jokes about them not being allowed to shoot me anymore. We went into what he called his "office". It was a dark room without windows and with just one door. It didn't really look like an office, it rather looked like a storage room. But then he showed me what he stored there. I hadn't seen so much crack in my life. Everywhere I looked I saw a baggie lying around. I was just thinking about how much this would earn him on the streets when he answered my question, reading it from my eyes I guess. He said : "'bout two million bucks. But you'd be dead if you tried to steal some." I nodded. Even if he wasn't able to wrestle me down, I thought, his bodyguards would have knocked me out in seconds. So I didn't try. When he sat down I asked him about Fat Vito and his folks. I said : "Vito has been stirring up the whole shit on the East Side. Tony and the Slimeman went out of business and six feet deep. He is trying to take over the whole area. That's why I'm here, Charlie. Them guys over there in the north told me about ya. They want to join forces against Fat Vito." "What will I get for all the trouble ?", Charlie asked calmly. "Peace and 20 %. If you won't join forces with the Northern Brothers, you'll be a dead Charlie within an hour." "I see." he said. He looked into my eyes and suddenly he stood up and shook my hand, saying : "Ya in the game, Whitey." and that's where I got my name from. He said "Go `n tell ´em Northern Brothers that Vito ´s been a Fat Vito long enough. He'll be a dead Vito soon." As I turned around to leave and tell the Brothers about the deal, Charlie grabbed my shoulder and took the gun from me, which I was still holding. I'm not sure why he didn't have his guys take me out that day, but it'd have been better for him. When I left the warehouse dawn was breaking. It took me two hours to get to the Brothers without being seen by Vito's spies. They were astonished to see me coming back in one piece and were even happier to hear the good news about Charlie. Some time ago the Mafia families had split up, leaving behind a great empire without a king. Everybody tried to get as much as possible and to take over the whole city. There weren't any gang wars, just important people shooting unimportant people. I didn't know nothing else back then and it seemed normal to see people die every day. The Northern Brothers had become my foster parents when my real folks were drowned in the harbour by the Slimeman's guys. I didn't miss them. They were just trouble on the road to success. That's why I didn't finish off that stinking bastard Slimeman at that time, and because I was just twelve back then. The Northern Brother tought me all the tricks. They were the first to accept people of different origin as equals. They were the first to understand that the old Italian shit didn't work here in Mafia City. By the way, that was our city's name. Officially there was another one but I can't remember it, ´cause no one ever used it. So I was slowly becoming a real Northern Brother when Fat Vito, who was the last of the real mafiosi, started to make trouble. He wanted to re-establish the old system and he was willing to kill anyone in his way. His guys were all Italian and they were the most brutal people I had ever seen, `cause they didn't need a reason to kill. The Northern Brothers were pretty afraid of Vito and his old school gangsters and they knew they'd need help from someone with a lot of money. The problem was, that Vito had killed all our friends and only Charlie, who was sometimes making deals with us, was available. So they sent me there, for I was pretty unknown at that time. And there I went and I even came back. As soon as I had told them what I knew, they started to plan the next two months or so in advance. Those guys were really good in tactics. And one week later Mafia City was drowned in the blood of Vito's men. But it seemed as if he were cloning them somewhere, `cause everytime we shot one, two new ones shot back at us. So we started to bomb his businesses. Charlie was getting nervous and threatened to pull back. The Brothers sent me again to talk to him. And I went, but what awaited me at the warehouse was different from what I had expected. When I came there, a firetruck nearly knocked me down. The whole pier was burning as light as the sun on a dry August day. I saw Charlie sitting in his limousine nearby. When I came to him he opened the door and I climed in. He seemed not to be frustrated or something, but when he started to talk I saw his cold eyes burn like the fire in his warehouse : "Vito" he said "is as dead as a piece of shit. I want to see his head on a nailed to a wall like a goddam trophy. And I want you to do it." When he looked at me I had no choice. I took the gun he gave me and got out of the limousine. The next thing I remember is that I was sitting on my head with a terrible headache and two or three empty whiskey bottles lying on the floor. I fell asleep again and when I woke up someone knocked on my door. It was Gusto, one of the few killers the Northern Brothers were employing constantly. I opened the door and let him in. I said : "Are you going to kill me now, Gus ? I didn't do anything. I was just lying around here, sipping a nice galss of wine." Gusto looked at me and said : "Glass of wine, eh ? Rather bottles of Gin. But don't worry, you won't see the light today. They sent me to help you." "With what ? ...well I mean... how did they come to know about that ?" "Never forget who you're working with, my boy. Now get dressed. We have to get going...."

© Tomulus Entertainment 2000

(if you have any ideas how to end this story - mail them to me)