* CHUD Mafia RPG - Chapter Three

[general_logan]

(This thread is for signed-up CHUD Mafia players only, please. If you want to join, let me know via e-mail. I am going to add more non-player character interaction to the mix in this chapter. E-mail me with any concerns, as always.)

“The Report”
(ATTN: Rath/Echelon)

A day has passed since your “visit” to Capella’s estate. You have been contacted via unlisted phone on your cell by a connection to your employer.

“Your surveillance assignement…,” the voice is modified through some electronic device, “What are the details? What is the status of the target?”

“The Rat”
(ATTN: captaineucalyptus/Othello)
(ATTN: Tony Ryan/Mickey, if you are still playing)
(ATTN: Imperator GAC/Vinnie)
(ATTN: Blunt/Virgil)
(ATTN: Waco/Lou)

Othello (and Mickey?) has been summoned to a remote warehouse location, to hold “Three Rings” Tivoli for questioning. Your contact, which you’ve dubbed “Weasel” has just stepped in to the vacant facility.

“Congratulations on your acuisition,” he whines, “I hope you didn’t cause too much of a stir.”

He hints at what will likely be a news story regarding your pickup of the elusive Tivoli.

"Mr. Tivoli is a former… employee of ours. A paid operative inside Don Capella’s organization. Needless to say, he is quite a wanted man.

Filing into the room are no less than ten armed men, weapons bulging underneath their cheap suits.

Mr. Redman, these gentlemen have been assigned to keep an eye on our guest. Do stick around… they aren’t much without… *pauses for the right word*… leadership.

“We expect Capella’s men to attempt some sort of siege, knwing the typical flair for bravado these men possess. Your account has been credited with the full amount of our contract, and an additional fee… another hundered thousand will be transferred assuming Mr. Tivoli makes it through the weekend.”

“Any questions?”

Meanwhile, Vinnie, Lou and Virgil have retired to an abandoned neighborhood park in a failed housing subdivision on the west side of town. Hanging upside down from the monkey bars is your police hostage.

Virgil has managed to work the guy over for a the last few hours, leaving the officer barely conscious.

“I… don’t know nothing else about Scapelli,” the man stops to spit out excess blood. “He was a turncoat… got a lot of good people killed… in the end… one of you people got him. Danny Raviloli… something like that…”

The cop passes out.

Ravioli? The guy was obviously no Italian. He must have meant Tivoli, the underboss who worked with Scapelli. Strange… Tivoli always seemed to keep his mouth shut.

Lou is struck with a flashback. A few years back, Tivoli ran up quite a debt in one of his high stakes poker games. One of the goons threatened the guy’s knees, and the next day, a package shows up for Lou. All $180,000 wrapped neatly.

Where does a guy like that get a hold of cash so quickly?

The pieces seem to fit. Tracking down this Tivoli rat seems to be the answer.

As the three of you head back into town, you get a call from “Knuckles”. Apparently, there have been all kinds of “moves” against the “family” in the last 48 hours. Word is they even tried to take out the Don.

More of Tivoli’s work? Your cop might know something else… if only he was awake. For now he rests quietly in your trunk, as the three of you make your way back into town.

“Trouble Hits Home”
(ATTN: Katanga/Roman)
(ATTN: Verbal/"Fist"
(ATTN: Dino/"Baby Bull"
(ATTN: Poxy/Paulie)
(ATTN: Fett/"Tobi"

Things had simmered down at Jasmine’s Den, and the three of you head home to patch up your wounds. On the return trip, Roman’s cell broke the calm once more.

Don Capella had been shot. In his own home. Is he alive? Dying? The three of you raced back to the mansion.

Roman had to argue with the doctor for an hour before the man in white agreed to keep him out of the hospital. Round the clock watches were put on the old man, and he was moved to a central location in the house.

Tony and Dino had also been seen to, sewed up failry neatly. The two of are recovering in the house as well.

Roman, you have been tasked to find the assailant and bring him in, alive. You rest in the lavish living room for a moment, refusing to actually fall asleep.

In front of you are two new faces.

Paulie “The Jester” and Frank Tobiasi. Two fellas fresh of “assignement”, who had done a bang up job of “cleaning house”. Among all the added personnel in the mansion today, these two stood out as a bit more experienced.

These two men would help you find your assassin.

“The Snoop”
(ATTN: Whitehead/Palooka)
(ATTN: Blofeld/"Alto"

Palooka looks across the open parking lot to see the surly “Hank” nodding. The brute seems to hold back a chuckle as you arrive.

The unannounced guest has been fairly quiet, tied carelessly to a wooden chair. Palooka is startled to see a heavy crate suspended by crane, dangling high over the seated man’s head.

“He ain’t said much yet,” Hank muses. “He’s gonna break soon.”

Jimmy, you feel like hanging your head. The unloading work has all been completed. If it weren’t for your gut feeling about this snoop, and the lack of intelligence from your chosen henchman, you could be celebrating your big sale.

“Alto”, you have yet to really offer these men much by way of answers. Despite their combined IQs equalling the size bowling ball they use, you can’t help but feel they are gonna threaten your toes, your kneecaps… or something more personal.

[katanga]

Trouble Hits Home

Roman Carvaggio silently appraises the two before him. He slides the lid off a laquored cherry wood box revealing hand rolled Treasurer cigarettes, offering them to Frank Tobiasi and Paulie DiVialoso.

“I hear you guys throw a hell of pool party, eh?” Roman smiles cheerfully trying to alleviate the gravity of the situation for just a moment. “I appreciate what you guys did…and the old man does as well.” He offers graciously. “You two just made your bones. Congratulations. Welcome to the top of the food chain.”

Roman exhales a stream of smoke like a Chinese dragon. He removes his overcoat revealing the ornate katana that dangles from his side and the Glock lodged snugly at the small of his back. Roman then unhinges his cufflinks and rolls up his sleeves; he calls for Tony and Dino. Roman makes the necessary introductions. The two recently wounded show no worse for the wear.

“Someone has sent us a message. It would be impolite not to reply. Gentlemen, any thoughts?”

An armed guard closes the double doors to the newly dubbed ’ War Room ’

[michael_rabattino]

The Promotion

“Don’t know who it was, but my leg is hurtin’ like nothin’ funny ova’ here…”

Tony squints as he leans on the side of the bed, taking a pack of cigarettes from the nighttable next to him and lighting up.

“One thing’s for sure…we’re gonna find out.”

Tony glances over to the other bed to find Dino laying back, a pained expression on his face.

“How’s yer arm, fatso?..hey, we did pretty good back there. We make a good team, my paisan. So you got any bright ideas, or what? My fuckin’ head hurts.”

[capt_eucalyptus]

The Rat

Othello towers over the Weasel. He has dressed down a bit for this meeting; wearing pressed black Levi’s and a black turtleneck pullover, a pair of black Timberlands on his feet. The custom .45 on his right hip was balanced by a matte-black twelve inch tanto style dagger on his left.

“You can relax about the stir. The car and gun will be a twelve inch cube of metal by midnight. Neither it nor the gun can be traced back to me. As far as my face is concerned I doubt anyone paid much attention to that.”

He looks over the men and nods. “I think I can make do with these. Tivoli’s in good hands.”

He points and the men closest to him and then at the small office close to the center of the building. “You two. Take Mr. Tivoli to that interior office and make sure that he’s comfortable. I don’t want him leaving the office for any reason until I say otherwise.” The men nod and take the informer as directed.

“You two, find some plywood and nails and board up the windows of that office. If anyone gets in I don’t want them to be able to see where he is.” The brunette scowls. “Is there a problem here?”

“Yeah. We’re not fuckin’ carpenters.”

Othello crosses the floor in a blink and has the tanto resting on the man’s Adam’s apple. “You are what I tell you. You do what I tell you. I imagine if you are on this detail then you are expendable. Understand? Signify by saying yes, ‘cause if you so much as twitch, you will have a new airway.”

“Y-y-yes.”

“Good. I’m glad we have an understanding. Now get cracking.” The two men went about their assigned duty. “The rest of you buddy up and take an entrance. I believe I counted three including the loading dock. When you guys finish boarding that office up I want you guarding the outside of it. If you see or hear anything, ANY-thing out of the ordinary, report on your radio. Now go.”

The men dispersed as ordered. The “carpenters” found some plywood behind the office and succeeded in boarding up the windows.

Othello lit a cigar and began making a circuit of the warehouse looking for ratholes. The warehouse was reasonably new and not entirely empty. There were a few large crates and bundles scattered around. He fired up a small forklift and moved them closer to the office. They would make good cover for his men and might provide some protection to the office from any stray rounds.

After he was done he poked his head into the office. The men jumped to their feet. Tivoli was trying to read a magazine but he was mostly sweating. “The next time someone does this without informing you on the radio, you are to shoot first. If you hear shooting then get this man down under the desk and keep down yourselves. Don’t take action unless I tell you or until someone opens this door unannounced.”

One of them actually started to salute before he realized how stupid that would be. “You got it.”

[capt_eucalyptus]

Back out on the fork lift he took out his cell and punched a number.

The voice on the other end said, “'Sup.”

“'Sup my little Homie?”

“Da hell’s this?”

“Who da hell you think it is G? Double M.”

“Hey big man! Been a long damn time. What your black ass been doin’?”

“Tryin’ to keep me and mine safe and sound. Look man I don’t have a lot of time. I need a favor.”

“Anything man. Whatever the Black Disciples can do for an O.G. like you.”

“Righteous. Look, roll out to the warehouse on the corner of 25th and Broad. Stay 'round the outside. I’ve got the inside locked. Stay low and look for any Guidos. See any and cap 'em. Strap hard dawg, 'cause this is serious business. I don’t want any y’all niggas to go down for me.”

“Any time.”

“Be here as quick as you can with about ten soldiers. There’s two large a piece and five for you.”

“Peace out.”

“Peace.” He snapped the phone shut and tucked it in his jeans pocket.

[rath_brendan]

“The Report”

Echelon spoke into his cell.

“The subject is still recovering. Now he has something else to recover from. The security will be intense for the next couple of days. It’s nothing my boys and I cannot handle, but it would be best to for me to return to Shakespeare for a while. I’m willing to take the next step, though…just say the word.”

He hangs up the phone and slides back into the hidden compartment under the bust of Mark Twain in his office. It was time to teach class.

[waco]

The Rat

Lou could tell his silence was starting to get to the other two, but not in the way he had originally intended.

He wasn’t sure about Virgil, and the way Vinnie fingered Scapeli right off the bat was a little fishy. He was gonna keep his mouth shut, smoke a few cigarettes, and wait for someone to make a mistake.

And then Virgil went crazy. It seemed to be working, but Lou liked to know who was getting shot before pulling the trigger. If you didn’t know, shit, it could be someone’s cousin or nephew. Good way to make enemies, and here they were with a dead cop and a soon-to-be-dead cop.

So here they are, driving back into Coldstone, and Lou had a name. Tivoli. At the time, he knew there was something going on, but he wasn’t in a position to argue over that kind of money. Before they make it to town, Lou fills the others in on the story.

“So, we got our rat. And he’s been a busy boy. Let’s see if we can’t find the little bastard.”

[blofeld]

"Gentlemen … the next time some asshole slips you some dough, you might want to be sure of the details.

From your perspective, if I’m working for the “right side,” and you behave well, you might find that dough in your pocket to be chump-change. If you behave poorly, you may trade those few dollars for your kids being orphans.

If I’m working for the “wrong side,” and you decide to rough me up, well … good on you. You’ve hampered level one – and the next will come tougher … and warned. If you give me a little information … you get to walk away with a good job done, and a little extra money in your pocket. You certainly ain’t the target. You’re just muscle.

Now, are you gonna let a guy read his book, or what?"

[general_logan]

“The Arrival”

Chinatown was never quiet. There seemed to be movement between the docks and the teeming marketplace even in the middle of the night.

In daylight, the flurry of activity was all the more great. Clouds had gathered, with a faint hint of eventual rain on the horizon. Trucks chortled amongst the narrow streets, dotting the community with every shade of gray and blue.

Tourists milled through the street-level shops, cautiously toting cameras and traveller’s checks. The locals were amazingly jaded to their guests, selling, buying, moving and dealing.

Against a well-worn curb, a faded maroon taxi cab pulled to a creaky stop. Despite its apprearance, the vehicle’s beaten exterior held within its most notorious and influential passenger ever.

Stepping out of the cab, as though moving without a sound was a single shape. With a serene look on her flawless face, the infamous Linh Lao presented herself to the open air.

Some of the passersby whispered, picking up their pace as they eyed the crimson-clad woman. Draped in a perfect silk oriental dress suit she stood for a moment. After taking in a single breath, she opened her eyes. With the faintest rustle, she began to move.

As the cab rolled off into the distance Coldstone’s newest arrival absorbed her surroundings.

Turmoil had already taken the town. Chaos loomed. For the people of Coldstone, a storm was coming…

and it was she.

[richard_dickson]

TROUBLE AT HOME

“Messages are for Western Union,” Paulie says. “Enough with the tap-dancing around, I ain’t fuckin’ Fred Astaire, and they sure as hell ain’t Ginger. We don’t send a message, we drop the fuckin’ New York white pages on 'em, that’s what we do.”

[charlie_brigden]

‘trouble at home’

‘I hate to be the cliche in all of this, but I’m smelling rodent. For them to get to Don Marco like that, they had to have a pretty tight operation. And all the time while I’m here, regardless of what you do or have done for me, I ain’t trusting none of you.’

[richard_dickson]

TROUBLE AT HOME

“Gee, thanks a fuckin’ lot. Next time I’ll just let the bitch stick the knife in ya.”

[katanga]

Trouble at Home

“Enough. You are made men now. Act like it.” Roman shrugs off the misuse of Don Capella’s trust.
Roman motions to Tony and Dino “I want independent contractors put on the old man. Clear the house of all our guys…send them to Florida or something. Change the codes on the security system. Finally…call on whatever god you think will help and let’s get the old man moved.”
Roman steps to Paulie. “You are the newly minted family exterminator. Do whatever you have to. But whoever it is…I want them alive. Anyone else…I leave to your discretion. I want everyone in this room and out checked…myself included.” Roman then turns to Frank Tobiasi. “You and me are going for a drive, Frank.” He tosses his car keys iin Frank’s lap.

[charlie_brigden]

Frank scoops up the keys and stands up.

‘Whatever you say, Chief.’

[voltes5]

Trouble At Home

“How’s yer arm, fatso?” asks Tony. “Hey, we did pretty good back there. We make a good team, my paisan. So you got any bright ideas, or what? My fuckin’ head hurts.”

Dino doesn’t answer. Despite them surviving, things were still a little bit fucked up. It’s time to just shut one’s trap and just listen for orders.

Dino looks at Paulie and he sees an arrogant prick who thinks he’s smarter than everyone. Frank, on the other hand, is the guy to trust. Sure he says he ain’t trusting no one, including Dino, but then that’s how it’s supposed to be. You gots to have loyalty, but you still gotta have common sense.

Roman gives his orders to Dino and Tony. Like deja goddamn vu. Dino thinks about another shootout from all of this and this time he’s gonna be packing a bit more.

“Alright, Tony, I’ll be clearing up the place while you change the security codes.” He taps his right breast pocket. “Got your cell?.. Good. Guns?.. Good. Meet me back here once you’re done.”

Dino dusts off his suit then cracks his neck as he proceeds downstairs to the kitchen.

[blunt]

The Rat

Virgil was at the wheel of the car. While usually, driving made him feel relaxed, thoughts were now rushing to his head. He started to wonder if offing a cop right away was the right thing do. He had the feeling it made the other two suspicious. Still, working on the other one was certainly the highlight of his day, and now they had the info they wanted. Scapelli was dead, so they had to get after Tivoli. He had to make a call.

He parked the car and took out a cellphone and quickly punched a number.

“Andrea? It’s Virgil. I need an info.”

Andrea Del Monte was Virgil’s informant, a guy who had a lot of connections in the mafia and the one and only guy that Virgil knew he could trust. He had helped him get into the cleaning bisness.

“You know Danny Tivoli? goes by the alias “Three Rings”? I need to know where I can find him? Say what? Okay. Try to find as much as you can and then call me back. Thanks, mon ami”

He turned towards Lou and Vinnie.

“Guess what? Apparently Tivoli’s been kidnapped. Andrea’s gonna try and find his whereabouts. I smell something fishy goin’on. What say we go drop that sucker in the trunk into the harbor and then go and pack. I have a bad feeling about this and I don’t wanna walk into trouble unprepared.”

[general_logan]

“The Rat”
(ATTN: capteucalyptus)

Othello had carefully strategized his defense. Weasel monitored the man from a handheld LCD screen.

“Looks like we made the right choice,” Weasel mumbles to himself as he steps into his chauffer-driven BMW.

“What the fu…” his driver begins.

Weasel leans toward the tinted window, looking outside the car toward the source of the distress.

A handful of chrome-polished low-riders, all painted jet black roll onto the lot. Each one creaks and grinds as it slows and parks.

Slowly and deliberately, each of the vehicles doors pop open to reveal a collection of street thugs.

“Should we do somethin?” Weasel’s cowardly driver offers, struggling not to wet himself.

“These men…,” Weasel surmises, with a grin, “These are Mr. Redman’s associates. No need to worry Andrew.”

The BMW meekly rolls off into the distance.

Meanwhile, inside the warehouse, Redman hears passing news between two of Weasel’s dimwitted, “regulars”.

“Mickey… you know, the mouse…,” one whispers to a companion.

“Whacked?”

“That’s what I heard. Disappeared on assignment for the Weasel.”

“Not good,” the first mook replies.

Before Othello can act, a look and familiar rhytmhic knock hits the large metal warehouse door. Weasel’smooks draw their guns reactively.

Redman’s guests had arrived.

[katanga]

Roman and Frank arrive in the suburbs. “What are we doing way the fuck out here?” Tobiasi asks, more than a little irritated after suffering his navigational skills. Roman exits the vehicle. “It may be something, it may be nothing. Let’s go see.” Roman turns and starts up the walkway.

“Salvatore Bosca. He’s a dealmaker of sorts. He arranged for me to come here and work for the Don after some trouble in Naples. Be polite.” Roman says.

[imperator_gac]

The Rat.

It was decided that the union controlled harbor would be the best place for the cops body. Virgil drove straight towards the garbage trawler. They’ve all done this before. Dumping a cop in garbage was nothing new, it was the news about Tivoli that really bothered them.

Vinnie was especially nervous. “I don’t know what’s goin on here guys, but we ain’t gonna be left holding holding our cocks when the music stops.”

They dumped the body in a trash bin that’s due to ship out to be dumped in the ocean in the morning and headed towards a safehouse on the docks to get the one thing that would make Vinnie and all else in the car feel better: guns, lots of guns, and maybe some other fun stuff as well.

"Somethin’s up guys and we’re gonna go kill every muthafucka who’s messed with us. Just like the old days eh Lou? Sometimes, I don’t care bout anything, but gettin out alive. I don’t care bout the cops and I don’t care bout the family. I don’t care who it is, we going to war.

[capt_eucalyptus]

The Rat

“Stand down you dumbasses! When the real deal gets here they are NOT going to KNOCK!”

The men look at each other and shrug. THey return to their waiting game.

Othello walks to the small door to the left of the loading dock and after drawing his pace and holding it to his leg opens it. He looks up at the mirror that gives him a view of the ramp an sees two young black men in Broncos jerseys and caps.

He steps out oon the stairs and nods at them. “Sup fellas.”

They nod at him. The older one steps forward and looks up. “Hey man. We’re here and ready.”

“Right. Take half your soldiers 'round back and watch those streets. The other half stays round front. Y’all know these streets better than me so you know what to watch for. And I don’t have to tell you to keep it on the DL.”

The one further back smiled, the light glinting off of stainless steel caps. “Consider us your seein’ eye niggas.” They threw the Disciple’s signs and headed back to their rides.

Othello went in feeling a little better about the whole thing.