Broken Glass (974 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: The_Malleys
Rating: 2 on 14 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Axolotl .93 (View user info) at 2006-05-10 09:58:58 EDT
A month has passed since Season One ended, and things have changed. Jim Brecher has steadily been growing angry at the hierarchy of the family, and has been expanding into his own pursuits; John Malley's son has successfully been shielded from the influence of the underworld. Most importantly of all, Mike Brecher has been given the role of consigliere, since Paulie's demise, and has taken control of the car shop and has hired Alex Collins to work there. Jackie and Malley are both content in their lives and the family business, still under siege by the Dimiglio family. But despite their happiness, war is about to break out, with tragic consequences.
"When are those guys coming to the store?" Alex Collins asked, stretching out across two chairs. Jim Brecher, dressed in jeans and a white undershirt, walked out of the glass-paned back office into the main garage.
"Any moment now," Jim said, standing in the empty garage, his foot up on a stack of SUV tires. "Now that my bro Michael's moved up in the ranks, we're free to do stuff like this."
"Yeah, boss," Alex agreed. "Sounds weird as hell to call you boss. Where's the kid?"
"Jason!" Jim called. Jason Sporran, the twenty-year-old assistant, rushed up from the secondary garage and stopped at the threshold. He was a skinny, emo-looking college dropout, nearly twenty-one years of age.
"Yeah, Jim?" Jason asked.
"A couple guys are coming around any second now for some business," Jim said pompously. "Stay out of the way. They're some bad motherfuckers."
"No problem," Jason said, bowing out of the doorway. "Just finishing up checking this one car's oil, I'll be around..."
Alex and Jim waited in the garage for a few minutes, feeling the cool March breeze waft in through the wide open garage door. After a short time, two men stepped into the door frame, and looking cautiously, stepped in.
"Nile," Jim said, striding across to high-five a black youth in a Teaneck track suit. "How's it been going?"
Nile Jones smiled, tipping his sunglasses to look into Jim's face. "I've been doing just fine, bro," he said. "Me and Reed here have the money." Nile's companion, a curly-haired, horse-faced man called Reed, stepped in and shook Alex Collins' hand.
"All right, let's go into the back room," Jim said. Alex, Nile and Reed followed Jim through the disheveled office and into the hallways and hidden offices in the back of the store.
"Right here, chief," Reed said, stepping into the back room first and handing Jim a manila envelope of money. The room was blank except for a few chairs and some cabinets and sinks by the door.
"Be-autiful," a mellow Jim said, giving the envelope to Alex, who slipped it into his pocket. "Let me get some drinks. Jameson all right?"
"That's cool," Nile said. Alex stood at the doorway while Jim went under the cabinets to pull out a bottle of liquor. "Took quite an effort to get that money, and I don't think that George Petrokos will walk again. Shame, really."
"His own damn fault," Alex said, stepping into the room fully and checking the envelope of money. Reed sat down, stretching his arms out. "This all the money?" Alex asked.
"That's all of it, every penny," Nile answered confidently. "Did you know that scumbucket Antonio Delgado's still working with the Dimiglio family? Damn shame, that is, as well."
"Pop that crocodile fucker for me if you get the chance," Jim said, handing the men drinks. "Jackie's enjoys his hemorrhoids more than Delgado."
"How is Jackie, that old fart?" Nile asked, sipping his whiskey. Reed held his in his hands, staring into space.
"Exactly that, an old fucking fart," Jim replied in a low voice. "Ever since he murdered Paulie, God rest his soul, he's a headless chicken. I think there's time for some change, if you know what I mean."
"I hear you," Nile said. "Jackie's a tough guy with a lot of connections, but if you ever need help sending him on a long vacation, if you know what I mean..."
"You sure this is all the money?" Alex asked, looking through the bills in the envelope. "It's lighter than Mary-Kate Olsen." He walked distractedly around the room, pocketing the envelope and standing next to Reed. Jim was still at the cabinets, looking at Nile.
"Six hundred and sixty-five dollars, G," Nile said with a thumbs-up. "Any FBI informants around that need to have their pipes fixed?"
Reed put the whiskey to his lips for the first time, pulling his head back as he took a swig. Alex Collins drew a dark shape out of his coat, and before Nile could react, he shot Reed in the side of the head, shattering his glass of liquor. Reed tilted to one side, falling off the chair, his broken glass falling to the floor filled with his teeth.
"I swear, six hundred and sixty-five, Jimmy!" Nile exclaimed, backing up into the wall. Jim opened the top cabinet and pulled out a .22 caliber pistol, his face a clown-like visage of terror.
With a nod to Alex, Jim shot Nile in the chest, scorching a bullet hole in his track jacket. Alex and Jim emptied their clips into Nile, fourteen bullets slamming through his organs. They pinned him up against the wall as he gasped and choked, his hands up defensively trying to stop the bullets.
"It was eight hundred, jackass," Jim said haughtily. Nile slid down the wall, a smear of blood behind him. His sunglasses were shattered and hanging off his bleeding face. "Wow...my first kill..."
"How does it feel?" Alex asked, holstering his pistol. "Let's get these two cleaned up. We can drop them off in the Passaic, if need be."
As Alex and Jim found gauze and bandages to clean up the blood and transport the bodies, a curious but now nauseous Jason Sporran dashed from the entrance of the hallway, the sounds of the gunshots fresh in his mind. His face was ashen as he continued maintenance on the car, not breathing a word about what he had seen.
* * *
Willy Malley was the second of the Malley sons, and the most legitimate. He was three years younger than John Malley, but three years older than Peter. He ran a construction company and was union leader in Paramus, but right now he was helping out an old friend.
In the visitation area of the Essex County Jail, Willy Malley, 42, a plump, mustached man with a pale, clammy face, was meeting with John Broadus in the large cafeteria. Other criminals dressed in orange jumpsuits, met with their loved ones and friends all around them.
"Your ten years are almost up," Willy said. "Just over a month. April 16, 2005, you are officially released on parole into the real world as we know it."
"Finally," Broadus said. "I won't do anything for this next month, I'll keep on perfect behavior. I'll have to check in with a parole officer every once in a while, though, right?"
Broadus had formerly been a sleek, handsome Mafiosi, but ever since being convicted and sentenced to twenty-five years for murder his face was lined and hardened. Broadus had been arrested for the 1993 murder of Terry McGuiness, an FBI informant, whom he had killed on Jackie's orders; Jackie had never forgiven himself for sending one of his best soldiers to a mission that would end in prison.
"Yeah, you'll have to be careful," Willy said. "You've heard that Paulie's whacked, and Mike Brecher is the new consigliere?"
"Yeah. I'm sure his brother is still the same immature jackass that he was last time I saw him, back when he was twenty-one," Broadus replied. "And that Paul Ciceri...the first thing I do, I'll kill him and his whole family, that worthless..."
"No," Willy said firmly. "Paul's been promoted to capo now in the Dimiglio family, so you can't touch him, or his family. We need you, Broadus. Stay out of trouble when you get out, and it'll be okay."
"All right," Broadus said, pursing his lips. "I'll try."
* * *
"Hey," Michael Brecher remarked. "Is there anything wrong?"
Jason Sporran was sitting hunched over on a stool behind a car, staring into the fuel tank. He perked up slightly, looking at Michael, but slumped down further. "I'm okay, Mr. Brecher."
"C'mon, Jay," Mike asked. "You can tell me. Is this something important?"
"Yeah..." Jason said, gulping. "I don't know if I can...it's with Jim."
"My brother? What did he do now?"
"He and Alex...he and...Alex," Jason said, stammering and deliberately looking away. "Yesterday afternoon...they killed two guys in the back room. I'm sorry, Mike, I'm so sorry. Don't tell them I said anything, I wasn't trying to spy, I heard the shots."
"It's all right, Jay," Michael said, kneeling down and patting Jason on the shoulder. "They'll never know you said anything. I'll talk to them, but you know them...they have problems."
"They shot two guys, shot 'em dead!" Jason choked. "Problems...?"
"I'm sorry you had to see it, Jason," Michael said. "Don't worry though, they won't get away unpunished. Do not go to the police, under any circumstances. We can deal with this ourselves."
"You're in the mafia, right?" Jason asked.
"There is no mafia, Jay," Michael said firmly. "We can deal with this, just forget about it and go back to work. I'll see you soon, Jay."
Michael left Jason in the garage, preparing to tell Jackie about what he had heard from the youth. He hated ratting out his brother, but if there had been a killing, the word would get around eventually.
* * *
Jackie's house in Moonachie was a large, stone building, but friendly and expansive. Its windows glowed with bright light as Michael pulled into the driveway the next evening. The sounds of the planes at Teterboro airport less than a half-mile away filled the air, and grey rain clouds hung over the Meadowlands just to the southwest.
Michael walked up the front steps, and noticed with some trepidation that there were two strange cars pulled up alongside the house as well. He rang the doorbell, and waited for a few moments in the cool March air.
Mary Sullivan answered the door, and smiled grandmotherly, letting Michael in. "Are you here to see Jackie?"
"I am, Mrs. Sullivan," Michael replied. "I hope I'm not bothering him, am I?"
"Jackie's upstairs with John Malley and another gentlemen, it's no bother at all," Mary said. Brecher dropped his jean jacket onto a hook, and continued up a short flight of stairs into the upper living room of the warmly-lit Sullivan household. There were some couches and an entertainment center in the far corner of the room, with a kitchen branching off to the side. Jackie, John Malley, and a fat, hesitant man called Mick Viggo.
"Hello, Michael!" Jackie said with strained pleasure. Malley and Viggo nodded grimly. "Will you take a seat? Mickey, inform Michael what we've been discussing."
As Michael sat down, he could sense the tension in the air. Malley was looking down, and Jackie's face was one of sadness and worry.
"Johnny Sullivan Jr.," Mick Viggo began, his lips barely moving. "We...he was arrested in Clifton this morning. Him and me were in town, and a cop got us near a Dimiglio warehouse. He's being held in the Passaic County Jail, but I escaped...we can't use our connections, because Sergeant Diciccio isn't a crooked cop. He's straight. I'm sorry, guys, we were careless..."
"Your son?" Michael asked Jackie in surprise.
"Yes, my youngest of two sons, is rotting in a prison right now," Jackie said. "We wanted him to be like his brother Michael, to have a nice legitimate financial job, but Johnny-boy wanted to get into the family. It couldn't be stopped..."
"What are they holding him on?" Michael asked.
"They might get him with RICO, trespassing on private property...the thing that's going to kill him is unlicensed possession of a firearm," Jackie said bitterly. "I can't believe it..."
"What did you want to say to us, Mike?" John Malley asked.
"There was a problem with Jim Brecher at the car shop," Michael said with a sigh. "He and Alex Collins shot two enforcers dead...they weren't made men, just dealers, but the thing was, there's a witness."
"Who?" Jackie asked.
"Jason Sporran. He heard them kill the guys in the back room, and saw them dragging out the bodies."
"Shit, that's just what I need," Jackie said angrily. "Jim Brecher...my son...I try to give my goddamn kid a proper upbringing, and let that idiot Jim a free rein, and all I get is an assfucking...stupid boy. And your brother..."
"Don't stress out over things, Jackie," John said. "Me and the rest of the capos can handle business for a while if you need to deal with Jim and your son. I'll try to get my cousin Alex straightened out a bit, if it helps."
"Thank you, but no thank you, John," Jackie said acidly. "I can handle my family's business myself, both of my families. Keep up the pressure on the Dimiglios, and running legitimate businesses like your brothers' restaurant and construction company, John. Keep things under control in your sector, I'll take care of things in mine. I'm no old man."
"Of course not, Jackie, but if ever you needed help..." John said concedingly.
"I need no help!" Jackie burst out, making a violent twisting motion with his hands. He stayed tense, and settled back down in his seat.
"It was just an offer," John said. Jackie looked at his knees and again back up at the ceiling, delivering a broad sigh.
"I hope everything turns out well, John, I really do," Jackie breathed nervously.
Episode 1: The Malleys http://www.ubersite.com/m/87184
Episode 2: To Risk Your Arm http://www.ubersite.com/m/87242
Episode 3: Innocent Until Proven Guilty http://www.ubersite.com/m/87289
Episode 4: Roulettes http://www.ubersite.com/m/87511
Episode 5: Broadside - http://www.ubersite.com/m/87564
Episode 6: Under the Influence - http://www.ubersite.com/m/87706
User Reviews
Submitted by BobLobla (user info) at 2006-06-22 14:56:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-05-11 08:18:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Am I to understand that you have any idea yourself, Georgie?
Submitted by Ballare (user info) at 2006-05-11 03:36:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fuckit, now I gotta go read 'em all.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-05-11 03:04:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice.
Don't listen to alters, it's bad for you.
Submitted by georgemichael (user info) at 2006-05-10 22:29:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
This series is shit, it has every cliche in the book and feels like a 12 years old interpretation of what the mafia is like.
THIS is a good story http://www.ubersite.com/m/87735
If you keep going feel free to use this -
Mario was the boss, he looked at Gino, "you were my consigliere! You dishonored the family"
"Boss please please I'll sign over my body shop and strip club and other businesses that people relate to the mafia to you" said Gino doing the sign of the cross.
Mario ordered the hit and instructed jackie, carmine, paulie, roberto, tony, antonio and other assorted italian names to make Gino sleep with the fishies.
Then a fat italian mama comes in and says "mama mia"
teh end
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-05-10 18:41:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Have another for this not getting enough attention.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-05-10 15:02:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-05-10 11:20:29 (#)
Ranking: 2
I want to fuck John O' Malley in the ass.
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ThatT IS VERy INapoAPRIATE
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-05-10 15:01:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-05-10 14:52:45 (#)
Ranking: 2
WHOO HOO MOTHER FUCKERS! I JUST GOT A RAISE!
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WOOOO!
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-05-10 14:52:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
WHOO HOO MOTHER FUCKERS! I JUST GOT A RAISE!
Submitted by sicosemen (user info) at 2006-05-10 11:20:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I want to fuck John O' Malley in the ass.
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-05-10 11:12:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2006-05-10 10:09:25 (#)
Ranking: 2
i live on that map!
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WOOO so do I!
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-05-10 10:43:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Another cool episode.
Submitted by MyNameIsTim (user info) at 2006-05-10 10:09:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
i live on that map!
Submitted by Axolotl (user info) at 2006-05-10 10:03:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Tomorrow I will be posting a picture of a man pulling out his own eye for SPT. WOOO
I'm somewhere on that map right now.