I shook my head "I can't do that. I've made my choices. My life is my own."
He looked at me, before grimacing and saying.
"Think about it, we have got all of you. This is the only way you survive.."
I paused again. Was he right? The seconds ticked by as if they were hours. I sighed and swept my hands through my hair.
"Okay." I said quietly "I'll do it.."
My past was catching up with me.
Alex smiled through the bandages and bruises. I could hardly believe it myself. I was going to turn informant. The next few weeks were filled with tape-recorded interviews and long question periods. I told them everything. I would continue my life as a mobster, for now, continuing to gather evidence for the FBI.
My side work as a mafia hitman had been very profitable when I was a younger man, but as I got older, I found myself having to reassure my clients that my advancing age wouldn't interfere with my ability to get the job done. I would have thought that my experience alone would have shown that I was good at my job. Eventually, I realized that a rival assassin was spreading rumors about me. They were saying that I was losing my touch.
It was true, plus I didn't an FBI informant should be a hitman on the side. So I left that life alone.
I wasn't as strong as I was when I was younger and my agility was declining as well. Combined with my worsening vision, I realized that it was time to retire.
The years continued to go by and the money continued to flow through my hands. Don Harcourt always needed his tribute. I lived very comfortably, like the rich man I was. That was why the Don was so strict with the payments. He knew I was taking in the money. The question was, where was it? I remember when Don Harcourt informed me that I owed $13000.
Daniel's loss was problematic. I had suggested that we open the books and raise Doug, but Don Harcourt decided to make someone from a different crew instead. That left me short handed, which made putting the money together even harder.
The extra tribute from the construction and demolition companies involved with the Sunshine Mall was of great help to our crew.
The tribute from the MMA events were steady. Vic Brown had a new show every year and we made sure we got a regular part of the proceeds.
That brought my total tribute still owed to $11000. It was a large sum of money and I knew that Don Harcourt wouldn't accept any excuses. That number was burned into my brain as I scrambled to get the cash together.
I looked in on all my drug operations, my extortion rackets. I checked in with my bookies and the loans people owed me.
I gained some but not enough.
My no-show job as Assistant Manager for the New Daria Airlines International Freight Storage Department had consistently funnelled all of my illegal money back to me. The IRS was always very direct with its policies. It didn't care where you made the money, as long as you reported your income and paid your taxes.
It felt as if my whole world was collapsing in on me.
I decided to not pay my taxes.
I had always been conscientious about my taxes in the past, but what had that gotten me? So, I stopped paying them.
Just because I was getting older, it didn't mean I was slowing down.
I joined the Golden Years Gun Club.
I was the youngest there, but I met the required age restriction. I have to admit, those old-timers knew how to shoot! Many of them had been going to shooting ranges for over thirty years, and one guy had been in a club for sixty years. It was quite the social experience. Shoot a few rounds and then go back to the clubhouse for drinks.
