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Who is Carmine Antonio?
Before writing this story… I want to say it has been a while… over a year actually. Lots has gone on but alas… I am back. Now, without further ado… Who is Carmine Antonio?
“Run… run you son-of-a-bitch…” Desi Charm “the brute” takes off, as he knows that Carmine would not hesitate to take him out next time they cross paths. Desi throws the knife into a dumpster on 15th street as he sees Carmine march towards him. “Is he just toying with me? Is he just making this a game? Ima dead man,” Desi thinks internally as his blood stained hands tremble. Like an almost psychic ESP answer; Carmine looks down the block at Desi and utters the chilling sentence… “you have one hour to say your good byes Desi!” Desi stumbles to catch his balance as he runs towards his brother’s house.
BANG BANG BANG… Desi pounds on his brother Gio’s door. “I’m screwed man” he says as Gio opens and pulls him inside. “You had one job bro… take out Junior without Carmine finding out. The vengeance coming after both of us now is inevitable. What am I supposed to tell the other fellas?? We all gotta hide or run because of you!?” Desi puts his hands on his head as he tries catching his breath. Gio’s phone rings… “is it done?” Gio clears his throat… “yes, Junior is gone… but Carmine knows.” The silence in awaiting a response is deafening. The mumbles from the fellas on the other end of the phone is numbing. “What do you mean Carmine knows… does he know everything? Does he know who’s involved?” Gio hears a bang and drops his phone… Desi jumps back looking at how pale Gio is. Desi picks up the phone… “hello?
In the distance on the other end of the phone he hears a scuffle, more bangs, and shattering of glass. “What the hell is going on over there?” Silence then… “Desi… I said you have an hour. 5 minutes to go now… these guys unfortunately did not have the same offering. I know they all put you up to it. Now it’s just Gio and you… 5 minutes Desi… figure out what you are going to do.” Desi drops the phone and looks at Gio as a cold sweat forms on his brow…
Three years and fifteen days ago was when Junior took over the family. Carmine remembered that day as the best for them all. Junior was the brains and he was the muscle. Or so what everyone else thought… they all thought Carmine was just the power as the right hand man. But they did not know how calculated he actually was. While he was a menacing physical being, he knew a lot… he knew who was close to Junior, who was faithful, who can be trusted, and who he did not trust. Gio and Desi were a part of all those categories. Except Carmine did not have them in the not trusted until 3 years from the day that Junior took over.
Throughout his time as the head of the Romas family, Junior revolutionized what it meant to be in power. He did not rule the family as a dictator but he brought together everyone. While some thought of this as controversial, he was able to squash any former issues that the Romas had with other families. As time had passed, this made most of them happy to not have to worry anymore about rivalries. However, there were a select few that did not like the new regime and the change to bring everyone together. The fellas, as they were know, were right under Junior and Carmine. The hierarchy was not demanding or pushed them away, it just changed the way things were done. Business was booming as Junior and the Romas now had 12 restaurants under their affiliation, throughout New York and New Jersey. However, they did give some of the ownership to the other families as a way to move forward in a peaceful way. As Junior put it, “we all get a piece of the pie and can all grow together, with ideas that will not be turned away.”
Back to present day… 15 days prior to Junior’s death. Gio holds a meeting with the Fellas and Desi. “Its been 3 years to the day that Junior expanded the business. Multiple families thriving, over 25 restaurants in the tri-state now… any of us have one? No… whys that?” Desi raises his hand, Gio smacks his head “just say whatchu thinking.” Gio clears his throat as he’s looking at the old heads staring back at him. “Well fellas, I just think Junior doesn’t trust us to run one of the restaurants or be the sole owner of one with his help.” They all stare daggers at Desi, knowing subconsciously that he is right, but do not want to admit it. “Ever since that bastard combined all the families the top tier guys have gotten a shot to get a restaurant. We knew his father first and this is how he treats us? Gio, you’re his cousin, so are you Desi, how does he not at least let you guys get one and then you both can bring us into it?” Gio nods his head… Desi, without thinking blurts out “maybe it’s because he doesn’t trust you guys and we are close with you all?”
The Fellas stand up in unison… “well then maybe the head of this whole thing should be someone who trusts us. We may just be a small group of fellas but we have been a part of this thing for a long time. Maybe it’s that Junior doesn’t trust yous two and doesn’t like that we are close to yous?” Gio clears his throat… “Now lets not all get hot here. We all came together to figure this out. Maybe we just let him know we want to run a restaurant separate from the families but will abide by what ever they say?” Desi gulps as they all stare at Gio and him… “or maybe I can talk some sense into him?” Gio slowly turns his blank stare from the Fellas to his brother. “Maybe I can let him know that we all deserve a piece of that pie since we have been so loyal for all these years…” The fellas put on their jackets. “Sure Desi… go do that, in two weeks we are going to have an answer one way or another… you and your brother convince Junior to give us a piece of the restaurants… or maybe cutting yous two out will make him understand more?”
The fellas leave the house… Gio’s head is in his hands… “why would you think we can convince Junior to play ball with them or with us for that matter. It’s the fellas that he doesn’t trust, at least we are family. We need to figure out a way out of the Fellas, not strong arm the head of all the families you son-of-a-bitch!” Desi stares at his brother, “I can figure this out, maybe I can ask Carmine for help?” “No! You bring Carmine into this and we are all screwed. He is the closest one to Junior, if anything we need to get Carmine away from Junior.”
Over the next two weeks, Desi and Gio concocted a plan… if Junior is alone, he may be more willing to work with them. Carmine there will stop any negotiations, as he just does not trust the Fellas. Gio calls Carmine… “Hey man how’s it going?” “Hey Gio… just working with Junior on opening up the Long Island location, what’s up?” “Actually that’s why I am calling, I wanted to venture out to the Island myself and wanted to know the next time you’re going? Maybe you and I can grab lunch and discuss?” Carmine hesitates as he calculates what Gio might actually want. “OK, I am done with Junior at 12. Meet me at Joe’s of Avenue U at 1pm.”
Gio hangs up the phone… “OK that gives you about an hour and a half to talk to Junior. I would do it, but he likes you better Desi.” Gio puts his hand on Desi’s shoulder as a sign of “don’t screw this up” as he half smiles. Desi drives to the Romas on 15th street, knowing Junior is there waiting for the place to open for the 4pm dinner crowd. He parks the car as he looks at the front of the building. No one else around. He begins to shake his right leg as he keeps playing the conversation the fellas had with them 2 weeks ago… beads of sweat appear on his brow. “The fellas are going to kill me if I cannot convince Junior” he whispered to himself as he bit his thumb nail. “OK just go talk to your cousin… you got this.”
The old school bell at the top of the door chimes as Desi opens it… Junior is at the counter looking over papers with his hair slicked back, his suit jacket on the back of his chair, and his glasses perched on the top of his head. “Desi! You’re a site for sore eyes. I haven’t see you in weeks… how’s it going? How’s your ma and Gio?” Desi wipes his brow feeling a calmness over him as Junior waves him over to sit down. “Everyone’s good Junior” Desi responds as he scuffles over to the chair next to him. “You want something to eat? I have steak coming out now. Joey! Bring another plate with a setup, my cousin’s here.” Desi gulps as he is trying to figure out how to start the conversation… Junior is a talker and it’s hard to get a word in when he is on a roll. “You hear we are expanding to Long Island? It’s a hot spot. I think Romas will do great out there, right on the water too.”
Desi cuts a piece of the steak as he nods along listening to Junior. He looks at his watch, 1:37pm. He thinks to himself “how do I say all of this before Carmine comes back? Just interrupt him.” “Sorry Junior I don’t mean to interrupt but I was just wondering who’s running the Long Island Romas? I know some of the Fellas were hoping they could have a shot, I mean I would love to one day too and I know Gio is ready, but whatcha think?” Junior wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin as he swallows a piece of steak and sips his red wine… “well funny you should bring up the fellas. You do know I have eyes and ears all over right? I have a feeling that the way we operate all of this doesn’t sit well with them.” “Ohh no Juni” “Please don’t interrupt… I just want to get this off my chest as you’re my cousin” Junior says with a louder voice as he puts his hand around Desi’s neck. “Now… theres a reason why we are so successful and we do not worry about any other family issues… because Romas has welcomed the other families to join in our success… what has that done? It has made us all flourish… now you and Gio are family. The fellas are old school… they may mean well but do you trust them?”
Desi takes a sip of his wine… “I mean we talked the other” Junior stands up abruptly, “you talked to the Fellas about what? Who’s we? You and Gio are my cousins… what is this we talked bullshit?” “No no no… nothing bad, I am just the messenger here Junior.” Junior grabs Desi by the shirt and lifts him out of his seat. “Messenger huh… how about I give the Fellas a message back?”
A car pulls up, Carmine parks next to Desi’s car. He pulls out a cigarette and lights it as he looks over into Desi’s car. He mutters to himself “Gio… thinking he can take on a Long Island spot. He and his brother are dumb.” As he puts his hand over his eyes to block out the sun, he sees Desi’s phone ringing in the car. 15 missed calls from Gio. The door to the restaurant swings open. Carmine looks up and sees Desi distraught with his hands in his jacket. “What’s up Desi… you alright?” “Yep, I am fine” he goes to take his keys out of his pocket and drops them… Carmine is about to open the restaurant door and turns around. Desi’s hands are red and a steak knife is next to his keys on the ground. In what feels like an eternity Carmine swings the door to the restaurant open… Junior is on the ground, a pool of blood, the cook holding him in his arms calling 911. Carmine turns back around, his fists balled up… “Run… run you son-of-a-bitch…”
Desi… I said you have an hour. 5 minutes to go now… the Fellas unfortunately did not have the same offering. I know they all put you up to it. Now it’s just Gio and you… 5 minutes Desi… figure out what you are going to do.” Desi blank stares back at Gio… “Do we run? all the families will come after us, there’s no way we can face this.” Gio runs to his room where he has his gun in the closet…. He reaches up behind the shelf and pulls down the box. Desi is standing behind him almost in a jumping fit. “What are we going to do? he said five” BANG BANG… Desi slides down the wall as Gio holds his ears in a crouch on the floor with the empty box next to him. Trembling he opens his eyes. Carmine is holding his gun… “I knew I didn’t trust you both, that’s why the other day when I saw the Fellas look at Junior in the restaurant during our meeting, I just knew you all were up to something… now I killed your brother with your gun.” Gio musters up the strength to stand up.
“OK, OK, but it wasn’t us… it was the Fellas, they strong armed us to talk to you and Junior.” Carmine lights a cigarette… “you know the thing about family and trust… it’s earned… just remember this day… the day that Carmine Antonio, who earned Junior’s trust… I will honor him as he was my family” One shot rings out… Gio falls next to Desi… Carmine walks out.
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The 6th – Part 1
As the smoke clears, he stares at Joe Roome. Joe reloads and aims… “why?” The last word of a dying man as it seeps from his bloody lips with his shallow breath escaping. “The 6th… I Honor by Breaking.”
Retired… Joe is a peaceful man now that had and still has a code he follows. His past life led him to this one. His past life brought him clarity and conclusion. He was chasing the escape of reality and came to the realization that his reality is not one to escape. 21 years ago he found a path in a world of uncertainty. Losing his family because of his work led him to this understanding of his world. Death follows or Death runs. In Joe’s case, he made sure he made his path and determined what Death would do.
The company Joe worked for were hired help per say… hired to take out others in the path of those that wanted to gain power. They paid handsomely and at a young age Joe knew his skillset and what he was gaining. His naivety led him to realize there was no way out. Unless he made his way. Married and with a baby on the way, Joe knew he needed a change. Unfortunately his company did not see that. They wanted Joe to understand his importance to their business and all that he knew meant he could not walk away…
Brussels… 6am… Joe’s phone vibrates. Missed call from his wife. Joe tries repeatedly to call back… straight to voicemail. A knock on his hotel room door. His director, Ty Caps, is standing there with a blank stare on his face. “Joe, I am so sorry…” Joe grips his fists, “just tell me.” The pulsation of his own blood pressure in his head muffles Ty’s words. Joe falls into Ty’s arms as he is for the first time broken and alone again.
“Who did this?” Joe asks as his head is in his hands trying to comprehend his loss. “We believe it was the father of the last hit… The Verona brothers were going to leak the company’s employees. We had to take them out. Unfortunately they were able to get two names out before we got them. Their father seek vengeance on you and on Mark. Joe Roome and Mark Youshio were the two best the company had. They both had taken multiple players out for those in power. They grew to become best of friends while battling for the top hitman spot in their company. All that work led to this day. Mark was killed in a house fire and Joe’s wife was killed in a car crash… Joe knows the truth now.
“This is not over Ty… take me off the schedule… my only purpose now is Verona.” Ty grabs Joe’s hand… cool and tight skin on Joe’s knuckles. Joe glances up at him… “Do not try anything to change my mind” Joe whispers as Ty nods. “You have my word Joe.”
JFK… Joe walks out of the airport, takes a breath, and looks down at the picture of Anthony Verona… the head of the East Verona Mob Family in New York. “My company takes your sons, you take my wife and best friend… I take you…”
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Atta Boy – To the Unsung Father
It’s been a while since I have written… usually I imagine a good premise and go from there. However; this time… it is a little different. Sometimes you dream at night and it just fades away like sand blowing in the desert. Sometimes you dream and it sticks with you like a memory engrained in your mind… last night was the memory. Waking up this morning at 36 years old, on my day off, and it is 6am. No I did not set an alarm… I did clean the kitchen, stretch and clear my throat like no one can hear me, and made coffee, just like my Father used to do. That’s when it hit me… the dream… or should I say memory.
I hear faint laughter… it is me as a little boy. I am watching myself like an omnipresent being from the ceiling. It is sunny out as I am running through my childhood home. The sun beams act like lasers coming through the window. I try to dodge them like Indiana Jones evading the big bolder while I am wearing my father’s t-shirt. A nightly ritual… I take my father’s t-shirt to wear to bed. It goes past my knees but I don’t care. The smell of his Drakkar Noir cologne permeates my senses; however, it helps me fall asleep while he is still at work.
Back to the sun beams… 6am Friday, during the summer days of childhood. I make sure not to wake my Brother or Mother as I reach the bathroom door, ever so cracked open with the water running. My father is brushing his teeth as he stares deeply into the mirror. As a child that stare meant nothing… as a 36 year old father that provides for his own family… we all know that stare is meant for the day ahead. Meant for how we are going to take the day by the horns, we will grind through all the hours at hand, and we will provide. I crack open the door a bit more, almost like an acknowledgement of “hey I’m here” as he glances through the mirror to lock eyes with me. He rinses his mouth and gives me a smile. The smell of coffee billows through the air as I try to find the right moment to ask him…
“Hey dad… since it’s Friday do you think we can do a Blockbuster night??” I squeeze my hands in anticipation. Knowing now as an adult how those questions could make or break a day for a kid, not knowing as a kid what it meant to work 12 hours and that is his norm for the week… I understand the magnitude of those questions now. He did not hesitate. “Pizza too? I’m thinkin’ Sicilian and knots, sound good?” The joy that exuded from my body as a kid must have brought him so much joy in return. While not knowing the long day ahead he had, all I know is I have the coolest dad.
Years of the same would happen, but we all grow older. Those blockbuster nights turned into “hey Dad can you drop me off at the movies?” turned into “sorry Dad I already have plans tonight.” To this day, I am so grateful for all that my Father has done for his family. The monumental decisions, to the every day acknowledgements. I cannot say enough, as a Father myself now, how proud I am of the Father I have. Spending those Blockbuster nights with us, going to our sporting events, just showing up… my father has showed me what priorities are and how to do that as a father myself.
I just want to say to all the old school Fathers, present day Fathers, and to my Father… thank you. It is our turn to look back to you and show our appreciation for how you were there for us… it is our turn to say… “atta boy”
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Traditions – Volume 4 – Everything Comes to an end
Can he have the best of both worlds… married man and serial killer… Professor and stalker… soon to be Father and Tradition keeper. These are the combinations that AJ has successfully kept as one for years and years. Present day, AJ is 51 years old. He just made his 120th kill while his own son watched with a blank stare. Yes… five years of training his own son, AJ is ready to retire. Like his father and Grandfather once saw in one another, AJ see’s the ability for his son to continue the Tradition. The day he retires will be the biggest thrill in his life. To see his son take the mantle, as his son has seen the evil this world has created.
Just like AJ, his son lost his mother too soon. AJ went into a dark place after the loss of his wife. His son struggled for three years to get AJ out of the rut. During those three years AJ made some questionable choices with the Tradition. One was not following all of the rules he set forth. His son saw him kill prior to knowing the Traditions and making a choice if he should join or not. While it was a devious plan, AJ was sloppy. He found the lawyer that won the court case to seize the continuation of the miracle drug that his Wife was using to battle her tumor. Three months after the case she passed away. AJ was sloppy to befriend the lawyer, whom unknowingly did not know the connection AJ had to said case. for two years J grew closer and closer to the lawyer. The night of his wifes anniversary, three years after she passed, AJ assumed his son was staying at his friends house…
AJ invited his “friend” the lawyer over for some drinks. While sitting in his office, sipping Scotch, smoking cigars, AJ started swirling his glass around. “You seem off tonight bud…” the lawyer uttered as he cleared his throat. AJ stares… the lawyer clears his throat again… trickling sweat beading on his forehead. “what… what is…” the lawyer drops the glass. He begins to cough. At that moment AJ stands up… staring. He hears a creak in the floorboards as the brass handle on his office door spins open. AJ turns, he is eye to eye with his son… AJ tries to figure the words but cannot seem to know where to start. His son looks at him… “Dad, I know who that is… I understand.”
Years go by. AJ revitalized with the notion that his son will be side by side with him until the day he retires and hands the Tradition off to him. The difference between his son and the ones that came before him is that he takes initiative. He sees that his son actually has no hesitation in learning. No qualms in the struggle of morals. If this is right or wrong… if they are good people. AJ’s son has never wavered on this notion… but will his first kill change that?
Kill 120… AJ is done. he is ready to retire… his son smirks as they are sitting in his office. “Son… I am done. All these years, all these kills… My first was the hardest but my last was the easiest.” AJ’s son leans forward in his chair. Knowing all the rules besides one. He is ready to take over. He sips the scotch out of his glass. “Why was your first the hardest Dad? Why do I not see that like you do… I do not feel that it will be hard.” AJ swirls his glass as he leans back in his leather chair… “well Son, the time comes when this becomes just too much. I don’t know if it is the mental anguish I go through with morality or just the fact of what I do in general. However, like your Grandfather said to me, and his Father said to him… you will know now why the first is the hardest.” AJ’s son leans forward more in anticipation.
“The reason it is called tradition is not because we kill those who deserve, or we make the world a better place, or we make others pain phase away by taking someone out… that is what we all thought going through the years of training… tradition…” AJ sips from his glass as his son is hanging on every syllable coming out of his mouth… “You know, when we lost your mother I thought I was going to just give it all up…” AJ’s son interrupts him “Dad focus… you know I want this. Please give me the last rule, please just tell me what I need to know so you can retire and I can feel whole.” AJ stares at his son with a cocked head… wondering why his son worded it that way. “Well, I guess I can just rip the band aid off… we all go through it, it is our tradition… retirement is forever and you begin your journey…”
AJ smirks, leans forward, and puts his hand on his son’s knee… “you are way ahead of where I was at when I knew about my first kill. You know everything there is to follow your first kill, make your mark on when/where/how, overall make sure to not get caught and move on… the real question is if you can really make this tradition continue?” AJ’s son grabs his Dad’s hand “you know I am ready… what’s next?” AJ smiles at his son… “what’s next? You know everything there is to know about our tradition… the last thing you need to know is not that I am going to retire… but you are going to make me retire…” AJ’s son leans back with a blank stare. AJ leans forward… “I have had a good life… I have killed 120 people that after vetting we considered worthy… I now am one of those people… like my Grandfather, my father, and now me to you… I am one of them… retire is just a nice term we use to let our protégé know that their own father will be their first kill.” AJ takes a sip from his glass as he stands up and puts his hand on his son’s shoulder… “time to get to work” he whispers to his son. His son stands up, looks his AJ in the eyes, he raises his glass in honor… AJ smiles and nods at his son…
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Traditions – Volume 3 – AJ’s Journey
30 years since the acceptance of his family’s lifestyle… the day AJ sealed his fate with his father… the day everything changed. It has been a whirlwind of emotions, mental anguish, redemption, and happiness. Within those years so much has happened and so much is set forth by the order of the rules of the tradition. “When do we start?” The last naïve thing AJ said to his father and only at 16. Within five years of that question, AJ not only lost all gullibility when seeing the truth about this world, but he grew a hard shell to the reality of the bad that can come from it. Now, the biggest obstacle that his father taught him was that all evil can not be washed away from this world. They are only human and only can do so much. However, it is what they do to take out those evil doers that can hopefully set forth a domino affect of good in the future.
Five years… from 16 to 21, AJ learned the true meaning of the shadow. How to watch, listen, feel, hear, react to the prey. Watching his father, a master at hunting those evil doers, months of watching, months of honing in the skillset to figure the perfect time, months of proof of why this prey is the one to take out. 4 kills a year is the norm. All different styles, to not attract attention of a form of serial, all reasons justified later when the news breaks on who that prey really was. Decades of this tradition and media has still not picked up on the fact that it is this family’s tradition unfolding. The outcomes always the same… “one less evil in society…” However, as the years gone on from AJ’s grandfather to father, there has been a shift in the world. The world has become more endearing to humans as a whole. While there are prey that deserve what’s coming to them, there are people out there that believe in redemption. There are groups that have formed to say it should be the courts decision and not someone else deciding that death is the option. AJ’s grandfather saw how the next generations could start feeling the same way and upset the pattern and rules of their tradition. The last rule… the hardest one to comprehend for the new generation, but after you retire from the tradition for your child to take over, you see it is a blessing in disguise.
After AJ’s first kill, the hardest one as anyone can imagine, he put his five years worth of training to good use. When his father retired, he knew that AJ was going to be special. Once he saw the way AJ studied the first prey, he knew that the family tradition would be in good hands. AJ revolutionized the tradition rule book and made it even harder for the media or anyone else to figure out who he was, or who his family was. Following in his father’s footsteps he became a professor of History at NYU. Once a year he would test his students to see if they can find or create a pattern between the 4 random kills that were publicized. Each year, without a doubt, no one came up with anything near the true answer… their professor and his tradition.
It has been 10 years since the first kill… 40 kills, and a regular life being led by AJ. A professor and married now by day… the Tradition keeper by night. His wife and her family have never suspected anything. His wife is a night nurse at NYU Langone. Perfect scenario for AJ to complete his Traditions. While his own mother was gone when his father completed the traditions, AJ was hesitant to keep the traditions going. He fell in love with his now wife when she was in school with him at NYU. His father had no idea back then, as it was year 5 of their training for AJ to take over. AJ kept it quiet and knew it would be hard to juggle. How could he give up one or the other? He knew it would be tough and one day he was going to let his father know his dilemma. The same day he was going to speak with his father, AJ’s future wife extatically explained that she is going to get here dream job as a night nurse. AJ hesitated for a second and burst out in excitement. As he grabbed her and spun her around, the excitement he really felt was completing his training and taking over the family traditions. Can he really have the best of both worlds?
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Traditions – Volume 2
AJ grasps the cool brass of his Father’s study door knob. Cotton mouth, sweat trickling down his forehead, clammy hands… “what am I doing” was his only thoughts as he rotates that knob. The cherry wood door creaks open. AJ straightens his posture as his eyes lock with the dark set eyes of his father. Slowly swinging his glasses in his hands, papers spread over the massive study desk, AJ’s father smiles for the first time in years. Stoic, almost like his brain needs to tell him to take a step against his will, AJ remembers to breathe. His father pushes back from the desk in his rolling leather chair. “AJ… no matter what happens from this point forward, you have made a choice, whether it was the urge of knowledge or the need for thrill, you are in the same position I was in at your age.
AJ tilts his head in a dog-like understanding… “16 son… that is when I was given my first envelope. 16, headed into my senior year of high school and my father changed my life forever. Most of me will forever be grateful for my own father bringing me into this life, but there is still that little part of me that holds onto humanity. That is going to be the one hurdle that you will continuously face. Decades our family has been a part of history, making the world a better place, without any recognition of what we have done to make said world more peaceful and rectified. That is how we like it, that is our pact to society… we take care of what is needed, no one finds out.”
AJ finally takes a seat in the other leather chair in the study as he is absorbing all his father is saying. His father is looking out the window as he pauses… the crackling fire pops ever so more than usual as AJ’s senses are heightened. Thoughts racing through his mind as he glances at the papers on the desk. Neatly placed piles, pictures of random people with a red X through them. Thumping is felt in AJ’s chest as he clears his throat. Silence is broken as he looks up from the papers to his father. His father is staring back at him with a smirk and a glassy look in his dark set eyes. “17 minutes of me explaining before you looked at my desk. you figured it out yet son? It took me 24 minutes when my father explained what we do in this world behind the scenes… in the shadows… in silence.”
AJ cracks his knuckles as he tries to comprehend the magnitude of this conversation. So… we… are… “we do not just kill son” AJ’s father cut him off. “It is a science, we do our homework, we have standards, we take out those needed to be gone. History shows us the path and future is where we will bring this world to a better place. I used to have hesitations when my father trained me. I would see the in-depth process of our traditions. But after years of training and shadowing my father, I finally got the hang of it. After my mind was cleared from my first tradition, I understood the importance of what we do. I did my second tradition… I studied the history of a man who was targeting young students coming out of Columbia University. He thought they would have money so he would attack them, lure them, or convince them to come back to his place. He made a few of them get the money from their parents but no matter the scenario he killed them. After watching this man for three months, he ended up killing two people. There would never be a third…” AJ stared at his father as everything started making sense. The quietness of his Father, the cold feeling he always got as he looked at his father, the hours he spent in his study. Always thinking how much work his father did at home as a college professor just did not make sense. AJ clears his throat as his father tries justifying their traditions.
His father stops in silence as AJ stands up. Face to face… AJ takes a breath… “When do we start?”
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Traditions – Volume 1
Drip… Drip… Drip… the mist of the morning dew is in the 5am air as AJ looks down. The dripping continues as his gloved right hand slightly shakes. The blade within said hand has a dark crimson color… as the blood is dripping off. Still shaking he remembers his training. “Focus son… you know what needed to be done… you know what to do next.
AJ shakes his head and wraps the knife in the cloth he takes out of his pocket, as he was taught. The lifeless body is on the ground, twenty paces from the man’s office within the History building. A professor at NYU. This man has spent the last 25 years as a professor of History and the last 21 year as a killer. AJ scans the area again, rule two – make sure your surroundings are clear… No witnesses, no cameras, no way of tracing. While this is AJ’s first kill, he knows it is his most important. His father trained him well. Locate your target, follow said target for 3 months to learn their patterns, find that one spot in their routine that is the hot zone to strike. This is the third most important rule. While not getting caught is obvious; becoming immune to every hesitation, becoming machine-like, striking, and getting out. That is the goal set forth. After years of training and learning from his father, AJ finally did what needed to be done. Following in the footsteps of his father he is ready to take over the family tradition… kill those that deserve… kill those that think they are above the law… make the hard choice to better society.
Lets take this back to the beginning… AJ and the family tradition he is about to become apart of. 16 years old. AJ’s just coming home from football practice. A manila envelope is pinned to his closet door in his bedroom… the outside reads “open at 7:21pm, follow the directions, find out what our family tradition is all about.” AJ takes a deep breath as he knew something was always off about his father. Never questioned it, just thought ever since his mom passed away he was just an eccentric, dark person that dove into his work.
7:20pm… 7:21pm… AJ, holding the envelope rips it quickly open. A letter is inside. “Good… you know how to be patient… you know how to follow the initial standards our traditions set forth… take a minute and understand that the moment you make the choice to go forward with learning our traditions there is no turning back. If you choose to ignore our traditions and want to live your life any way you see fit then burn this letter and heat up the dinner I left you on the stove. No hard feelings if that is your choice. You are my son and I will always be proud of anything you set your mind too. If you do decide to take part in our traditions then meet me in the study. I am behind my desk. The moment you open the door is the beginning of your path of learning our traditions.” AJ’s heart is racing… droplets of sweat form on his brow. He thinks long and hard…
In the study his father is sitting with his elbows on the desk, his hands perched under his chin, his glasses slightly swaying in his grasp… silence for what seems like an eternity, besides the crackling of the fire within the study. He picks up his cool glass of scotch. Brings it to his lips and sighs as the silence with the fire continues… he stares at the study’s door… the brass knob begins to turn…
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