Crane, Crane

Hit List

There was a big commotion around the hall table when I walked in so I went to go see what the deal was.

All the guys were crowded around and I tried to make my way through when suddenly, this guy, big guy in front of me shoved me back an inch or two on my ass. I was ready to give him a homestyle castration before I recognized the voice.

"How about a little respect for your elders?" The deep voice chuckled a little.

Cousin Lawrence, fucking hilarious clown.

"What's going on?" I asked, standing up, even though I already knew. The guys only got around like this for a few reasons. Everybody was trying to get a look.

He didn't answer me, though.

"Hey! Make some space will ya? Boss coming through."

Lawrence sorta bulldozed his way to the center, dragging me behind. The noise was giving me a headache. So many people talking, basically yelling at once? No way, man.

"Fuck up!"

I was kinda shocked when the voice came from me and echoed around the now silent room.

The angry grumbles of grown men being told what to do resonated. I couldn't help but smile a little.

At the table, surrounded by two dozen silent men, Lawrence shoved a paper into my hand. A letter or something.

"Falcone sent that from Blackgate. It's a list," he muttered. No shit.

On the list were seven names written in scribbly scrawling, that's all. Certainly it wasn't a list of Falcone's best buddies. Charles Westminster, Victor Fries, Jervis Tetch...These were guys that Falcone absolutely hated. The ground they walked on, the air they breathed. And they didn't read the outgoing mail at Blackgate.

"Look, Falcone wants these guys gone before he is." He turned to me. "And you're gonna help."

Ah. A hit list. Classic.

"How's he doing, anyway?" I asked.

Lawrence ignored the question. So I knew what that meant. Didn't know why I asked.

Lately, Uncle Carmine's condition had gone from worse to worst. Whatever it was, prison doctor said he had about six months left. And that was almost three months ago.

He pointed to the first three names and drew an invisible circle around them with his finger.

"Aaron, Butch, and I will handle these three." He said. "You'll be dealing with this one."

He pointed to the fourth name. A Jonathan Crane. Somebody coughed.

"The wacko doctor? What'd he do to Falcone anyway?"

"I don't know, Johnny," Lawrence sighed. "You wanna ask him?"

Now I'd done a lot of stupid things for Lawrence and the family, but this... I knew I'd have to one day, just not so soon. And my hands were dirty, but not with blood. The room was getting too quiet.

"Why me? There are tons of other guys?"

"It's Falcone's dying wish. And come on, don't you wanna make your uncle proud?"

Uncle Carmine. Even after he died he'd still be serving his sentence.

Lawrence must of caught me hesitating or something.

He lowered his voice to a low but harsh whisper. "Johnny, you're a man now, not a kid anymore. You see these guys?" He gestured to the goons around us. "They're yours. But tell me. Which one if them is ever gonna take you seriously if you can't? You need to prove me and not just even to me - to Falcone, these guys, and yourself that you're ready to be in charge. This is that opportunity."

Oh, come on. I didn't wanna kill a guy.

"And what? I gotta do this by myself?"

"Don't worry, Johnny-boy. You'll have help." He smirked.

And I had a few questions then but I decided to keep them to myself.

The chandelier swung back and forth. Could of fell any second. Was Lawrence still talking to me?