The Birth of an Assassin Read online

  After scaling a couple more walls, Theo found himself in the back of his father’s shop. Wow, he thought to himself, what an adventure, a secret way to get around undetected. Calito was smiling down at Theo as he saw the recognition in his face.

  “Bye, Theo,” Calito said as he retreated back the way they came.

  Theo walked up the back entryway to his father’s shop and surprised him.

  “Theo, where did you come from?” he asked him.

  “I sneaked in when you weren’t looking. I’m a ghost and you didn’t see me!” he responded.

  “Well, you did a great job because I didn’t see you,” his dad told him.

  “Now, let’s see if you can make the dirt on the floor disappear with the mighty broom,” his Dad teased him.

  “Aw, ok, Dad,” he responded.

  “Dad! Would you replace my film again?”

  “Of course I will. Set it on the counter and I’ll take care of it,” he told Theo.

  As Theo swept the floor, a man came into the store with an older looking kid. Theo had seen the boy before but did not remember from where.

  “Mr. Gresco,” the man called out to Theo’s dad who was behind the counter.

  “Yes, may I help you?” Sergio responded.

  “My name is Anzio Costello and I believe you know my son, Nick,” the man said pointing to the boy with him.

  Anzio Costello, who stood about 5’ 7” and weighed about 160 pounds, was dressed in a gray pin striped business suit and appeared in good shape.

  “Yes. I know your son,” responded Sergio.

  “My son told me what happened. That you caught him trying to steal from you,” Anzio said.

  “It was nothing. It was a misunderstanding,” Sergio said.

  “He told me he thought he had the money on him and found he didn’t. A simple mistake,” Sergio said.

  Anzio stared at Sergio for what seemed a long period but was actually a few seconds.

  “Where you from, Mr. Gresco?” Anzio asked him.

  “Sicily,” Sergio responded.

  “Sicily. Where in Sicily?” Anzio prodded.

  “Palermo” answered Sergio.

  “Palermo, that is where I am from, too!” Anzio said with excitement.

  “We lived above our bakery on Via Guglielmo Marconi & Via Guiseppe De Spuches,” Sergio told him.

  “What a small world! I also lived in that neighborhood. We used to buy our bread from that same bakery,” Anzio said.

  “Yes, it is a small world,” Sergio said coming from behind the counter and extending his hand.

  Both men shook hands with big smiles on their faces, pleased to see a fellow compatriot.

  “Ah. Those were the good days, my friend,” Anzio said.

  “Yes, they were,” Sergio responded remembering the smell of the fresh baked bread from his parents store below his bedroom.

  “Tell me, what brings you to our shop, Mr. Costello?” asked Sergio.

  “Please. Please call me Anzio,” Anzio demanded.

  “Ok. Anzio, how may I help you?”

  “Well, I don’t know now, since it is my understanding from what you say that my son was not trying to steal anything from you,” Anzio answered.

  Sergio looked down at the boy and smiled at him.

  “Well, you know I do need another helper around here,” Sergio said.

  Anzio stared at Sergio and said nothing. Thinking to himself how odd that all of a sudden Sergio was offering his son a job.

  Nick looked up at Sergio and said,

  “I would be glad to help you with any chores you have for me and you don’t have to pay me.”

  Nick’s father stared at them, knowing full well that there was more to this, but said nothing.

  “Well, if it’s ok with your father, you work for me starting tomorrow for two hours a day for a week,” Sergio stated.

  “Sure. Sure, why not?” Anzio responded.

  “Theo, come here and meet Mr. Costello and his son Nick,” Sergio called out to Theo.

  Theo walked over to them and stuck out his hand to Anzio and Nick. Anzio, looking down at Theo smiled and shook his hand. Though Nick was reluctant he too shook Theo’s hand. The two boys stared at one another for a brief second. Nick took a liking to Theo, though for Theo the feeling was not mutual.

  Lucia, who entered the store, interrupted their introductions.

  “Excuse me,” she said.

  Anzio turned to see this beautiful woman staring at him.

  “Anzio, this is my wife, Lucia,” Sergio said introducing them.

  Anzio stared for a second marveling at her beauty.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Lucia said.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” Anzio responded.

  “Are you from Palermo, as well?” Anzio asked her.

  Staring at her husband, she smiled at Anzio and said.

  “Yes I am. We were childhood sweethearts.”

  Anzio turned to Sergio and said,

  “You are a fortunate man, Sergio. You have obviously stolen the most beautiful woman out of Palermo.”

  Lucia blushed as she moved alongside her husband.

  “Why thank you, Mr. Anzio. Do you say that to all the women you meet?” she asked him.

  “Only the beautiful ones,” Anzio responded smiling.

  Anzio extended his hand to Sergio once again bidding them both farewell. After a few more pleasantries, Anzio and his son left the shop with a promise to return the next day.

  Anzio Costello

  Little Italy/Chicago

  Leaving Sergio’s shop Anzio and Nick Costello got into the back of a waiting Lincoln Continental.

  Turning to his son, he grabbed him by the arm and said.

  “Now you listen to me, Nick. You will go there tomorrow and you will work your ass off for two hours every day for the next week. After that, I don’t want you near this neighborhood again. Do you understand that?” Anzio told his son in a harsh voice.

  “Yes, Dad, I understand,” Nick responded.

  Anzio ordered the driver to take him back to his store on Roosevelt Road, half a mile from their present location.

  It was public knowledge that Anzio Costello owned a shipping company, which imported olive oil from Italy and Sicily. With the Italians siding with the Germans, it had become almost impossible to import the olive oil and as a result, they had to revert to smuggling. Though their imports had begun to decrease, they had been able to maintain a substantial inventory keeping their customers content.

  Upset with Nick, Anzio stormed out of the car when they reached their destination leaving Nick to have to run to keep up with his father.

  Next to his store was a luncheonette where he had an office in the back. The luncheonette had several male patrons, who appeared to be just hanging around, but who were actually hired by Anzio to watch over the area. When they saw the Lincoln Continental pull up they got up and rushed towards the car. Two men stepped into the street and took positions on both sides of the doorway as one of the men remained inside waiting for Anzio.

  As Anzio entered the luncheonette, he turned to his son and told him to get lost.

  “Go on, go and do what you do. I don’t want you hanging around here,” he barked at his son.

  Anzio walked to the back of the restaurant and into his small office followed by the third man leaving his son at the doorway to the luncheonette.

  “What’s going on boss?” the man asked Anzio.

  “We got a small problem, Rino,” Anzio answered.

  Dressed in a grey suit with an open black shirt, Rino (pronounced Reeno) Porfirio was a big, imposing man - at 6’ 2” and 200 pounds - he was Anzio’s right hand. He had been with Anzio for the last five years and had saved his life twice. First, two men tried to rob them at gunpoint, and the other when one of his competitors threatened to blow up his store. In the first incident, Rino took a bullet for Anzio. The perpetrators were not as lucky; both were killed when Rino and Anzio returned fire. In t
he second incident, someone threw a stick of dynamite through the store window. Rino pushed Anzio to the floor and pulled a table over for cover. Though a few customers were killed both Anzio and Rino walked away unscathed.

  As usual, the police weren’t able to pinpoint who had attacked them and without any eyewitness there wasn’t much they could do. The same was true when three of Anzio’s competitors were found with their throats slashed floating in the Chicago River.

  Anzio trusted his friend’s opinion, though he did not always take it.

  “What problem?” Rino asked.

  “My boy will be working for the guy who owns the tobacco shop on the corner of South Wabash and 11th for a week or two,” Anzio said.

  “What?” Rino yelled in disbelief.

  Anzio stared at Rino for a few seconds.

  “No problem, boss. I’ll take care of it,” Rino responded.

  Sabrisio Family

  Little Italy/ Chicago

  Emilio and his brother Frank Sabrisio lived about 45 miles northwest of Chicago in a town known as Lake Zurich. Their family controlled the prostitutes, the numbers game and the liquor distribution in south side Chicago’s Little Italy. Over the last year, they had begun to expand into other parts of Chicago. One of their thriving businesses was the extortion of money from the city’s storeowners.

  Their seven-bedroom house, located on the lake, often served as their headquarters.

  Today they were meeting with their lieutenants on an incident that occurred in New York City as well as other business matters.

  The head of the family, thirty eight year old Emilio Sabrisio, stood five feet nine and weighed 250 pounds. His reputation was that of a good businessman, one you would not want on your bad side.

  To his left sat Thomas (Shorty) Carmelo, Andre Lazzario and Tony Valerio. On the couch to his right sat his brother Frank, George Tiziano and Victor Lorenzo. On the couch, facing them sat Leo Gustavo.

  “Hey, you would never guess who called asking for our help,” he asked in a strong Italian accent.

  “Who, Big Al?” asked George.

  “No. I don’t think Big Al will be asking us for anything anymore. Heard him and syphilis don’t get along,” answered Emilio with a smirk.

  “No. Bolnaldo Costellino himself,” Emilio said with a grin.

  “I thought he was locked up or dead,” said Tony Valerio.

  “The guy’s a Houdini. One minute he’s here; next he’s gone. Heard he was dead and now he’s alive. Must have nine lives,” Leo Gustavo blurted out.

  “Let me finish,” Emilio went on smiling with both arms extended gesturing them to calm down.

  “He bumped off the head of some two bit gang in New York City and he needs us to send him some muscle to bring the others in line.”

  “You got to be kidding,” shouted George Tiziano laughing.

  “Man. He got some balls,” Frank Sabrisio said.

  They were all laughing now.

  Bolnaldo had been friends with these men for years. They shared many memories with him. They knew him to be headstrong and dependable. This man they would trust with their lives.

  “I’m going to send him four of our best men, two now and two after we take care or our little problem on Wabash. Anyone here object to this say yea; all oppose too bad,” Emilio said laughing.

  They all nodded their approval. With that, Frank stood and took over the meeting.

  Frank Sabrisio was two years younger than Emilio, but taller and thinner. He kept himself in great shape by doing 100 pushups every morning followed by a brisk five-mile walk. Though Emilio ran the family, there wasn’t any doubt that Frank was the power in the background. If something got out of hand, Frank gave the orders on how to deal with it. Nevertheless, Frank would never oppose his brother in front of the others. They often had intense arguments in the privacy of their study on how to deal with certain situations. Frank dealt with issues head on while Emilio believed in using diplomacy. Emilio won Frank over to his way of thinking by calming his brother down and showing him the logic behind his way of dealing with the issue at hand.

  Prior to the meeting, both brothers discussed the situation on Wabash. A soldier had been hired to protect the storeowners and they were discussing how best to deal with this development. Frank suggested they kidnap the soldier, beat the crap out of him and dump him in the middle of Wabash with a broken arm or two. Emilio considered this for a minute, nodding his head up and down, not to let Frank think it was a stupid idea. Finally, he looked up at his brother and said,

  “I don’t think we can do that. He’s a soldier. The military police would get involved and maybe the FBI. You don’t want a bunch of soldiers and feds showing up at our doorsteps do you?” He questioned his brother.

  “No. I guess not. I didn’t think about that,” Frank responded.

  “Maybe we should distract the toy soldier while we send a message to the guy who organized them. A message they will all remember,” Emilio said.

  Frank, looking down at those before him, spelled out the situation on Wabash. After a brief description of what was happening, they began discussing how best to deal with the problem.

  The meeting lasted for about an hour and a half and with everyone in agreement, a plan had developed.

  A plan that would seal their doom and change the life of Theo Gresco forever.

  An Unlikely Friendship

  Little Italy/Chicago

  When Theo arrived at his father’s shop Nick had been there an hour. Feeling uneasy, he said nothing and walked over to the counter and leaned up against it.

  “What’re you doing?” he asked Nick.

  Nick turned to Theo and smiled.

  “What does it look like?” he responded sarcastically.

  “But that’s my job,” Theo responded.

  “Guess you been fired,” Nick said laughing.

  Theo did not see this as a laughing matter. Theo was getting mad and now felt like walking over and taking the broom away. In fact, Theo felt like punching Nick in the nose. Theo took his camera, which was hanging around his neck, and placed it on the counter and walked up to Nick.

  “Give me the broom. You don’t know how to do it,” Theo commanded Nick.

  Nick stopped and turned around. He stared at Theo for a few seconds. This kid’s got balls, Nick thought to himself. Nick was a foot taller than Theo and three years older. Smiling Nick gave Theo the broom and stepped back. Theo took the broom and began sweeping the area.

  Theo’s father, who had been out back, appeared from behind the counter.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked them both.

  Startled Nick said,

  “Mr. Gresco, Theo is showing me how to sweep the floor the right way.”

  “I see,” Sergio responded nodding.

  “Well, in that case when Theo is done he can show you how to dust the counters and shelves.”

  “Yes, Dad,” Theo responded.

  Nick grabbed another broom and began to help Theo with the sweeping. When his father had stepped out to the front of the store Nick swept some of the dirt onto Theo’s shoes and started laughing. Theo reciprocated by doing the same to Nick. Within a few seconds they were both laughing.

  When Sergio came back into the store, he found them sword fighting with the broomsticks.

  “What in the world is going on here?” he shouted at them.

  “I’m... I’m sorry, Pop,” Theo answered nervously.

  “It’s my fault, sir,” Nick said.

  “I see,” said Sergio.

  “Well, it is clear you two need more things to do,” Sergio said in a serious tone.

  “Tomorrow is garbage day. I want you two to go out back and bring the garbage to the front of the store,” he ordered.

  “Yes, sir,” they responded.

  They raced out the back of the store.

  Sergio stood smiling as he stared after them.

  “And make sure you don’t spill any of it on the ground!” he shout
ed after them.

  Theo and Nick each grabbed a garbage can and began dragging it toward the street and after two trips they completed the task.

  Theo walked back to the rear of the store and Nick followed.

  “Hey, do you know that we can get from this end of the block to the other without anyone seeing us?” Theo asked Nick.

  “What do you mean?” Nick asked him.

  “Follow me,” Theo said.

  In an instant, Theo was over the adjoining fence as Nick followed. Ten minutes later, they were at the other end of the block.

  “Wow, that’s something!” Nick said.

  Theo felt proud of himself, knowing something that this older kid did not know.

  They came out at the southern end of Wabash at 11th Street and headed back up to the shop.

  As they walked up the block, they passed Davino Carmine, the security man hired by the shop owners, who was chatting with an attractive female. Theo stared at them as he passed thinking he had never seen her before and that he had to get a picture of her.

  When they arrived back at the shop Sergio gave them a couple of more chores before calling it a night.

  Nick, who had shown up in a bike, took off, waving goodbye.

  As Nick headed south towards his home on East Roosevelt Road he was spotted by a group of boys on their bikes.

  “Hey, Jerry is that your bike?” one of the boys said to another pointing towards Nick as he rode by.

  “Yeah, that’s it,” he responded.

  Nick needed transportation to Sergio’s shop and decided to steal a bike he had found alongside a store that morning.

  “Hey!” they shouted to Nick as he went by.

  Nick turned and saw the boys mounting their bikes and coming after him.

  “Oh man,” Nick said to himself.

  Nick, who had been riding on the sidewalk, picked up his speed and moved onto the street. The boys were on the other side moving quicker now as they raced after him. Riding alongside a car, Nick grabbed the back end of the car allowing it to take him along. The boys spotted what he did and did the same with the cars closer to them. As they reached the corner, the cars slowed to a stop. Ignoring the red light Nick continued on, shooting through the crosswalk. Some cars hit their breaks as Nick shot past while others nearly hit him, resulting in screams from the startled drivers. The boys followed but had to slow down watching out for oncoming traffic as they hit the crosswalk a few seconds behind Nick. Now across the street Nick looked back and saw his pursuers gaining ground as they cleared the crosswalk. Half a block from his destination, he stopped and left the bike as he went into a nearby building in full view of his pursuers. He raced inside and out the back of the building.