Baltimore Blues; A Tale of Two Made-Men.

  "Punch it," Combo said as Smokes held the detonator in his hand. After giving a brief look over his shoulder towards Gordie, he nodded. Combo readied the snub-nose in his hand moments before the detonator was set off. The door burst open and in went the three men through the back door of the building and out into the alleyway. Gordie and Combo swept right and put several rounds into the man running up the alleyway at them with his weapon drawn. Smokes went left through the door and used his Colt to put the first armed man in sight into the floor.

   Gordie underhanded a det-pack to Combo who proceeded to throw it into the building behind him as they bolted in order to buy themselves some time. "Shit's in-place, Smokes! Three, two, --" *boom* went the doorway as the old ceiling came down in order to block their escape. Further down the alley they went before a round hit Smokes' left side.

   "Son of a bitch! Son of a *bitch*!" he emphasized as they rounded the corner.

   "I told you we shouldn't have burned McCaffrey, God dammit!" Combo exclaimed as he began to load several more bullets into his revolver.

   Smokes held his side as he sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. Luckily, he was only grazed. "He was a fuckin' snake!" he shouted defensively as he, too, reloaded.

   Gordie regarded the two of them with narrowed eyes, "If you two are done playing grab-ass, we have more people coming."

    Smokes opened his eyes to look at the woman sitting across the table from him once more. She was seated in a high back chair with one leg folded over the other, her hands clasped calmly in her lap. He couldn't quite remember her face, but he had her figured for plain looking, judging by her scratchier voice and the fact that she wore pants instead of a skirt to go with that awful blue suit jacket. The room itself was dark and he figured that there was a camera somewhere, but he couldn't be too sure. He knew her only as Lady Wisconsin, aide to his Capo. He knew-not of a real name, but that was the alias she went by.

    "That was it, that's what happened before we got to the dock-" Smokes started before being interrupted by the woman.

    "Tell me again, why did you shoot him? He was valuable, to some degree obviously." the woman asked.

    "He was a snake," Smokes said plainly as he took another cigarette from the open pack on the table. After flipping up the casing covering the top of his lighter, he struck the wheel and used his free hand to shield the flame as he brought it up to light his smoke. After taking a deep drag, he exhaled the smoke through his mouth as he spoke, "He burned us. Burned quite a few people, actually."

    "... They're waiting for us in the hangar," Avery said as Smokes and Combo neared the entrance to the port. "Straight through customs into the private bay, they're loading the stuff as we speak," he added. Avery was an associate of the duo. While Combo was a made-man of the Family itself, Smokes was an associate at the time. After having acquired several shipments of weapons from a contact from Paradise Falls in DC, they were meant to launder them and ship them out-West in order to auction them back on Family shores. If it went successful, Avery was going to get the break he was looking for in order to take his sacrament and vows to get into the family on his own accord.

    As they entered the port, all seemed to be going normally. Combo had his jacket slung over his shoulder and Smokes walked casually with his bag hanging at his side. They went through gate A and then Avery piped up, "Do you think everything's going to go over smoothly?" the young man, no older than twenty or twenty-one asked.

    "Look, kid. Everything's going to roll over smooth as ice. McCaffrey and Dillon are waiting for us inside with everything already packed. Once we get through the scans, we just jump-ship and go," Smokes said in an attempt to reassure him.

    Upon reaching the scanning area, Smokes removed his bag and set it in the bin to be scanned. The trio removed their shoes and accessories and went through the typical port nonsense before getting their belongings back. The port town of Cape Charles had heavy security and they took smuggling very seriously, as taxes were hefty as a result of being the only main port on the Virginia coast at the time. They then stepped into the elevator that took them down to the lower level where the private dock was. There were few people in the halls, which made Smokes nervous, given the lower levels were typically packed with their contact's own goons. McCaffrey was another made-man, like Combo, who assured him that he could be trusted, given the two had worked together in the past, laundering ill-gotten gains.

    The outer airlock opened and the three stepped outside. Smokes reached into his jacket and pulled out his carton of cigarettes. He promptly lit one up and tucked the lighter into the breast pocket of his bomber jacket. He smirked as he let the cigarette burn as it hung between his lips, "I can't wait to get away from this fuckin' bird's nest," he said as he walked through the door, looking over his shoulder as he did so. To his surprise, Combo and Avery weren't moving and just stood still.

    In order to see what the commotion was about, Smokes looked forward once more to see a dozen or so soldiers from the local militia aiming weapons at the door. He took note of McCaffrey holding a gun to Dillon and in that moment, he realized that they'd been had. The traitor turned to look at them, "Ah! Gentlemen!" he let out in a boisterous manner. "I'm glad you could join my friends and I! Now, Percy -- be a doll and call out to Gordie. Your plus-one seems to have locked himself inside the boat."

    Smokes stood still for a few moments. He slowly poked at his assailants with his eyes until he cast a glance towards Gordie through the window of the ship. He gave him a slow nod before a small panel on the side of the ship opened up and a gun-turret came out and began to fire on the group. This gave the trio enough time to run for cover, though they lacked weapons.

    "... and you took off after Gordie came out with a lever-action?" Lady Wisconsin asked as she tilted her head some in skepticism.

    "The snake took off running after he put one in Dillon. Avery was hit, too. First one died point-blank, the kid bled out on the boat while we were crossing the drink," the smoker explained as he exhaled the exhaust from his cigarette through his nose. It hid Lady Wisconsin's face while she shifted in her seat, which caused him to shift his shoulders uncomfortably in the chair as he leaned back and kicked his feet up on the table.

    "What happened after Virginia, Percival?" she asked.

    "What do you mean what happened after Virginia? You know the story, I wouldn't be sitting here if you wanted me d-" he fussed, but got spoken over once more.

    "I have you sitting here because I know perfectly well what you -did- do, and I want some goddamn answers!" she exclaimed. "Now are you going to sit here and make it difficult, or are you going to tell me? I could call the two men outside in here and they could -make- you give me the answers I'm looking for," she said with a particularly venomous tome.

    Smokes sat with his cigarette burning between his lips in silence for several long, drawn-out moments. Each tick from the clock nearly caused him to wince, given the intensity of the interrogation. "... alright," he began.

    Smokes set the audio recording device on the table and turned it on. Combo sat backwards on one of the kitchen chairs while Gordie kept his eyes outside, peeking through the curtains in the living room of the apartment. Tied to the chair was McCaffrey. Several of his men lay dead on the floor after the breach. The smoker pulled out his switchblade and knelt down. He grabbed the snake by the jaw and held his knife up as he let the blade extend from the hilt, "Why'd you fuckin' do it?" he demanded gruffly. "Lookit me," he demanded as the man in question tried to pull away. "Look at me!" he shouted.

    "They gave me a good fuckin' deal, Percy," McCaffrey said. "The whole thing was a goddamn set-up. The Militia'd let me go if I gave 'em you. The whole thing wasn't meant to happen like this."

    "You mean we weren't meant to leave that fuckin' dock," Smokes reiterated as he reared back and socked him in the face with his free hand.

    "Kick his fuckin' teeth in, Smokes," Gordie added.

    Combo came forward holding a fireplace poker. He smacked the bound man several times in the stomach, before whipping him across the back a couple of times, "You like that, you dense motherfucker!?" he shouted. "I trusted you and you snaked me! You snaked all of us!"

    With no response from the man, Smokes stuck his knife in the table and reared back with his good hand to punch him square in the nose. A crunch was heard as his nose broke and began to bleed him all over the front of his shirt. He began to pace around behind him as Combo reached for the knife. "I ain't gonna' kill you, oh no. You're not worth the bullet, friend-o. What I -am- gonna' do, though!" he cautioned, sounding like he was about to go over the deep end. "Is fucking. Send you. A God. Damn. Message. You son -... - of a bitch!" With every pause, Combo poked the switchblade into the side of McCaffrey's leg, effectively maiming him pretty good until he stopped to take a few deep breaths as he sat back down on the chair.

  "Gah!" cried McCaffrey, "My crew'll fuckin' kill you all!" he hollared.

    Gordie looked over from the window, "They just pulled up outfront, guns already out. We need to go now, or we won't have another opportunity," he said.

    Combo looked back towards McCaffrey, "If we have to come back, I'm not going to be h--" he was cut off as Smokes simply put one in the back of the bound man's head. "Ah, fuck! Percy! Come on, man! You got chunks all over my sh-- this is a new fuckin' suit, my man!"

    Smokes grabbed the recorder and headed towards the door after Gordie tossed him the sawn-off that McCaffrey had tried to reach for when they first came in, "There's gonna' be more than just his goons if this goes public. We're going out the back."

  "Men, this here is Percival Rockefeller," Don Bovetti said as Smokes entered the room. Sat around the table were approximately a dozen men. Among them was Combo, and the heads of all the other families. "Know, Percy, that this family of ours is a secret. You're entering a society for chosen men. Good. Fellows. A society more important than the rest of the world. More important than your own family, your God, and your country. Had I asked you to kill your own mother, your sister, you would do so. Show me your trigger-finger, son."

  Smokes held out his right hand, and extended his finger towards Don Bovetti who stood from his seat to his left. No one else in the room stood, they only observed silently. Bovetti withdrew a clean knife from beneath the table and extended it towards the smokers hand and cut a thin line from his fingernail to the first winkle beneath the face of his index finger.

  Before him on the table lay the polaroid photo of Saint Mary of the Catholic Faith. Bovetti took Smokes' hand and placed it over the picture, allowing him to bleed a few droplets onto it before taking it, and holding the corner to his lighter. He struck it up and lit the photo on fire before placing it into the oathtaker's hands. "Repeat after me," he began.

  "If I were to betray the secret of our way of life," Bovetti started.

  "If I were to betray the secret of our way of life."

  The rest of the men present in the room stood.

  "May my soul, burn in hell, just like this saint," the Don continued.

  "May my soul burn in hell. Just like this saint," Smokes continued as he moved the burning photo from palm-to-palm to avoid burning himself.

  "Gentlemen!" the Don exclaimed. "I'd like to welcome Percy Rockefeller to our family."
   

  "Boys!" 'Mustache' Mick exclaimed as he strode up to Combo and Smokes who were perched at the bar of the family's speakeasy.

  "Ah, Mick. Good to see ya'," Smokes announced as he nudged Combo to get his attention. Mick was their Capo and had promised to come and find the two of them once their caravan was ready. The Don himself had asked for several volunteers in an expansion effort on a gig taking place not too far out of town. Having been the only two survivors of the 'Virginia Escapade', Smokes and Combo were volunteered. Their job was simple. They were heading to Blackbog in order to expand the family's chem business to both the locals and the caravaners in the area. It was remote, which meant that they were likely the only chem stop for miles.

  "Your caravan leaves in an hour. I hope you've got'chur' shit packed, boys. Hell, I'm gonna' miss you two. You do good fuckin' work, and I've been proud to have you in my crew. But, hell. You boys are gonna' start your own, if shit goes accordin' to plan, yeah?" Mick then asked.

  Combo raised his drink, "According to plan? You're a real optimistic guy, Mick. You know that?" he asked with a chuckle as he drank down his shot of bourbon. "I'll drink to that though, yeah. I wouldn't mind getting a little something going while we're down there..."