Frankie rushed reporters out of the restaurant, tired from the whole ordeal of a shootout at the supposed safest place in the neighborhood. As he closed the door and placed a tarp around the window, he couldn’t block out the sound of broken glass crushing under his feet.

‘I can’t believe Caruso is dead.’ He thought He didn’t even get to solve what went down with the Lorenzo situation. Could Dante be behind this? Would his Dad not know? Or the Table?

Lost in thought Frank knelt and started cleaning the glass, paying no attention, he nicked his finger on a large shard. As he looked down at his hand blood flowed out the color of motor oil. He was surprised and grabbed a napkin off the table. Looking down again the wound was red in nature. Strange, maybe the stress was getting to him. He finished cleaning and went to the kitchen where Nico was.

“Hey, Nico. How are you holding up?”

“Frankie, my boy, I am grateful for the help but can I get a few more minutes to myself? This was my baby.”

Nico is a very old man. All he had was this restaurant and now it's gone. His wife died a few decades ago and his children are far away, so all he did to keep himself company was take care of his restaurant and give out to the community. I will find out who did this. Nico's was a safe zone and now it's gone. I will find the man in the Navy if my last breath depends on it.

“I cleaned up out back, uncle. I'm going down the street for a few more supplies. If you need anything, just call.”

“ Oh don't worry yourself. I can send a few of the neighbor's kids to go get that stuff, just go find out what happened to Caruso. Although I didn't trust him, he doesn't deserve to die like that no man does.” Nico grabbed some boxes and placed broken dishes inside.

“ All right call me if you need anything, bye uncle,” waved Frank, going towards the entrance.

“ See you later Frankie. Goodbyes are forever. I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

- -

Walking out of the destroyed restaurant, Frankie was determined. Determined to find out what happened to Caruso who called out the hit on Lorenzo, and where he could find this Marco guy. Crossing the street and turning the corner of the block he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following him. He placed his hand under his shirt on his gun waiting for the man behind him to make the first move. As he stopped at the light, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and just as he was about to pull out his weapon he turned and saw that it was the same agent he had seen at the police station a few days back

“Do you need something agent?” Frank inquired fixing his shirt.

“Mr. Salvatore, I thought that was you. I have a few follow-up questions to ask you.” Mentioned Agent Enzo, gesturing they both crossed the street.

As they both sat at a table outside of a small cafe, Frank was silent, wondering why so many people were seeking him out in the past few days. “Agent I am busy, if we could postpone this for another time, that would be great.”

“Uh-uh Mr. Salvatore, this won’t take long at all,” spoke the agent, stirring their expresso, purposely prolonging the interaction between the two of them.

“Where were you during the shootout down the block yesterday?”

“If you have any questions about that, you can just get the official report from the police, or ask the owner himself. I don’t see why you need to hear it from my lips.”

“A cautious man, I see,” Enzo sipped his drink and set his cup down. “That was a test. The name is Enzo, Marco Enzo.”

“Francesco.” He muttered, shaking the agent's hand, receiving his card in the process. “Now that we are acquainted I should get going. Very busy like I said.”

“Sure. I will see you around. To next time Mr. Salvatore.”

‘That can’t be the Marco, Caruso was talking about. I mean what would he be doing talking to an agent? I knew he was a rat, but I thought he worked with the other Families. Not the Feds.’ Thought Frankie, walking down the street before dipping into an alley. He contemplated what he should do, reaching into his pocket to phone a friend.

“Hey Sylvio, I need to ask you a favor. Can we meet up, yours at nine?”

“Sure cousin, sure,” spoke the man on the phone before hanging up.

As Frank walked up the cobblestone stairs and got near the door. There were so many thoughts swirling in his head. What would an Agent want with him? Something in the back of his mind kept telling him he was connected to all of these events, but he wasn’t sure how. Hopefully, Sylvio could shed some light.

He knocked on the door waiting for the older man to open it.

“Frankie, How are you doing? You sounded like the Feds were after you with that call.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

He patted him on the shoulder and walked in. “Not so good Syl.

“Sorry to hear that, I also heard that our friend went downstream. Not so much a friend but a member of the Marino’s nonetheless.” Sylvio poured a glass of water and sat down.

“Yeah, Caruso is gone, not sure why though. Was the same guy who had it out for me at the hospital.”

Francesco knew he didn’t have to fill Sylvio in on all the details that had transpired the past week. The older man had resources and connections everywhere.

“That’s why I am here. I need help finding someone.”

“Sure, cousin, but something tells me you need a few favors not just one.”

He shifted in his chair. “I keep business rolling by helping others. So, the first one I will help you with but after that you have to give something to me.”

Sylvio was crafty, a man of his word but crafty.

“Okay, sure. Who was the Marco that Caruso was in contact with?”

Sylvio chuckled. “I keep telling you you need to wise up Frank. It seems you’ve met him already.”

Shocked, “How did you know!?”

“Come on Frankie, If I shared my sources I would end up like Caruso, that gavone.”

“So, who was behind the Lorenzo thing?”

Sylvio’s face turned serious. “That’ll cost you, are you sure Francesco? I expect my end no matter the person.”

Did I want to do this, I mean, I could find out quicker trailing Caruso’s tail. Maybe I can come back. “I will wait for the answer to that.”

“Well then my friend, as you give up your chance now, the next time you come, you will owe double. Those are my conditions, Cousin.”

“I know. Thank you, Syl. See you later.”

“Bye Frankie, Next time don’t come smelling so fresh. If you know what I mean.”

Fresh? What could that mean? As Frankie shook the thought off, he felt for the business card in his pocket and dialed the agent.

‘Syl couldn’t be wrong. I mean he’s never wrong. Then again I thought Nico’s was a safe space.’

- -

“Mr. Salvatore, I knew you would call me back soon. Didn’t think it would be on the same day though.” The agent sat on the bench and looked forward not showing the man sitting next to him any attention.

“Right, I like to move quickly. But don’t get it twisted, I came to find out what happened to Caruso. Not to answer any questions about anything else. Capice?”

“I see that mobsters are lacking in manners lately, but I’ll bite. Caruso was an informant for me. He sold out some people to get a lower sentence we were going to pull him in for.”

Francesco knew it. Everyone knew Caruso was a rat, but wasn’t this agent speaking too freely?

“Before we continue, why are you sharing all this with me so easily?”

“You guys are so indecisive, do you want answers or not? But to indulge in whatever is going on in that head. I like you, Francesco. You help the community, no bad record. Not even a speeding ticket. So I am intrigued that so many have it out for you.”

What could he be implying? Francesco only helped and never crossed anyone who didn’t have it coming for them already. Even the other families saw no trouble when he walked into their area. That was the one thing he prided himself on. Being for the people. A good guy.

“Who?”

The agent got up and put his sunglasses on. “ Someone is watching you. Someone very close, and your enemies are even closer. I suggest you uncover the dirt the Marino family is hiding before you end up like your loved ones. Caruso, Lorenzo, and Isabella.” He slipped his coat back on and walked away.

‘Isabella?’ What could this have to do with her? Frank stood up. “Hey! What is going on?” The agent ignored him and kept walking, anticipating he would get another call very soon.

So many questions and still no answers.

As Frank got up he began walking home. Passing by some regulars on the street he waved and helped where he could. He ran to help an old lady cross the street, picking up the groceries she dropped on the ground. After that, he continued on his path, still confused about what his purpose in this mess was. As he dipped the corner he saw the silhouette of a woman. At first, he thought he was hallucinating, the woman looked a lot like his late wife. ‘It couldn’t be Frank. Bella is gone.’ As he contemplated his vision, he sped up to ask the lady a question, in an effort to bring some peace to his mind that his wife was gone.

“Excuse me, Miss?” he said. And just as she began to turn around, another figure came and punched him square in the jaw.

Whack.

He staggered and touched his face, vision blurring with impact. Just as he was starting to gain his footing, the mysterious man swung again, missing as Frank stepped back, cocking his fists into the air, blocking the jab coming for him.

As Frank threw a jab at the guy’s rib, he looked and saw that the woman was gone. Angry at the interruption, he threw another punch; which was blocked by the assailant. The masked man, coincidently in blue, sidestepped and kicked Frankie’s side, throwing more punches in his direction, before picking him up and slamming Frank to the ground.

Frank gasped as the air in his lungs escaped, rolling just in time to miss the Man in Navy’s shoes stomping near his head. He stood and threw another hook at the man's jaw, landing this time, before grabbing him and jabbing his back with further hits.

The man wiggled free from his attacks, throwing his hits, missing and landing a few in the process. Just as he was about to win in his endeavor, Francesco, ducked grabbed a trash can, and threw it at the guy. It caused him to stumble back dazed, as Frank trucked forward and tackled the man to the ground, holding him as he lifted this thorn in his side’s mask.

Who he saw caused him to stand up, tripping over his own feet, as the guy in blue jumped, pulling his mask back down and running away.

“Lorenzo?” Frank spat into the wind, shocked that his closest friend was not dead, seemed to not know him, but even worse, wanted to kill him.