The opulent den had a definite masculine tone with its dark mahogany leather chairs, oak wooden floors and forest green, burgundy, and black plaid wall accents. Phil Darso was watching a football game on a massive state of the art television when Caesar Farintoni entered the room. Caesar was a stocky muscular man who stood five foot eight, with thinning dark hair, and a bull dog face. The two went back a long time, to the old neighborhood in the Bronx. Phil rescued Caesar from drowning back in their teen years and the two were inseparable ever since. Caesar presented Phil with a handful of mail. “Boss here’s the mail. I dumped all the advertising crap,” he said. “Thanks.” Phil muted the sound on the TV as he took the envelopes. He laid the letters next to him, “Caesar sit down.” Caesar slid into a chair nearby. “I was checking last months profits out of East L.A., they’re down by 5%; what’s going on,” said Phil. “I don’t know Boss, the economies down; there are a lot of guys out of work, that’s my guess.” “You think someone’s skimming off the top?” “Not after what you did to B.B. Smacks. No ones got the ‘nads’ to go against you.” Phil pondered his statement. “Let the network know I want some free samples given out, the good stuff. Start with the Junior Highs, that’s 12, and 13 year olds, right?” “Yeah, I think so.” “Go with the coke and ecstasy, and not too much, just what it takes.” “You got it.” Caesar stood, added, “Do you have anybody taking care of that doctor guy from the hospital?” “It’s done.” Phil sat back with a wide grin. “Same way as the other two?” “No…no, that’s barbaric. I want it too look like he died of natural causes. “How are you going to do that?” “I’ve hired The Black Stallion.” “The Black Stallion! I thought he was just a rumor.” “Oh no, he’s very real.” “That’s a hell of a name for a hit man. Why not ‘Doctor Death” or ‘The Grim Reaper’? ‘The Black Stallion’, that’s a kid’s story.” “Caesar the problem with you is, you’ve got no imagination. ‘Doctor Death’ sounds like a pro wrestler. The Black Stallion is special, the horse represents death. This beautiful thoroughbred gallops in to your life and when the horse leaves, your essence, your being, is carried away with it. Now that’s class!” “Whatever you say Boss, but how’s he make it look like the guy died naturally?” “That’s the beauty, using surveillance he observes and listens to his prey, finds a weakness that he can utilize, and then strikes. Sometimes he’ll make it look like an undetected carbon monoxide leak, other times it may be a deadly allergic reaction he’s uncovered. He’s brilliant. My guess is he has already set up mini cameras and sound sensors wherever this Doctor Kalos is living. From what I’ve heard he’s a master of all kinds of disciplines; when it comes to science he’s skilled in biology and chemistry. He has top notch experience in computers, mechanical engineering, cameras, electrical and sound technologies…even make up. It’s been said he did some of the alien makeup on the old “Star Trek” series. If he’s faced with a physical confrontation his talents vary from martial arts, marksmanship to arms and demolition. The guy’s got it all. “How did you contact him?” “Even that’s first rate. There’s this old bookstore in Pasadena called ‘The Book Mark’. You walk to the back of the store and on top of a weathered bookshelf to the far right, is a tattered leather volume titled ‘Sun Tzu on the Art of War’. This Chinese military genius wrote the ultimate book on fighting strategy. You slip a 3 by 5 card with the type written name of your victim, and a work or home address where they can be found...” “That’s it!?” “That and fifty thousand dollars in 100 dollar bills which you put into a large leather bound book to the left of the Sun Tzu book. The inside of the book is hallowed out for that purpose.” “Fifty thou! Isn’t that a little pricey?” “It’s about ten thousand more than I’d pay for a regular hit, but he’s never failed and it always looks like a natural death.” “What’s so important about the doc looking like he died of natural causes?” “It’s going to drive Darelli nuts. His only witness dies and they can’t figure out how it happened. The satisfaction of busting that assholes balls is worth every penny of the ten thou. A-h-h…to be a fly on the wall and see the expression on his face when he gets the news, especially when he knows, in his gut, that I had something to do with it.” “Yeah, I can see how that would get him riled...How’d you find out about this Stallion guy? “Like I’m telling you, someone told me.” Caesar shook his head in disbelief, “I’m blown away.” He started to get up, “I’m going to get a beer. Do you want one?” “No, but I’ll take a glass of merlot.” “You got it Boss.” Caesar arose and headed toward the kitchen; as he approached the archway to the hall his eyes alighted on an end table that displayed a small framed photograph and immediately a cloud of memories engulfed him. The photograph was of Jimmy and he had taken it. They had visited the zoo that day, just the two of them. He had never married or fathered a child that he knew of. Jimmy was like a son to him and the only person on earth who had ever uttered the words ‘I love you’ to him.
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