Read Online Assault on Soho by Don Pendleton - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Don Pendleton
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure, Men's Adventure, Adventure stories, det_action, Bolan; Mack (Fictitious character)
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Staccio replied.
"What kind of a deal?"
"He forgives, we forgive. And we bury the hatchet."
Arnie Farmer exploded with, "What the hell has
he
got to forgive?"
"We gotta be realistic, Arnie," the upstater explained. "This boy lost his whole family, and he figures their blood is on our hands. Now if we understand anything at all then we just got to understand a debt of blood. Right? So I say let's agree that one debt cancels out the other. Let's be realistic and see if we can't end this damned war."
Arnie Farmer fumed silently.
Marinello said, "Okay, let's say that both sides agree to bury the hatchet. Then what?"
Staccio shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't sat around and thought it out. But I think maybe Charley Lucky had the right idea, way back when."
"You mean we invite Bolan into the organization," Marinello said quietly.
Staccio again shrugged. "Why not? It worked before, it could work again. He'd be a hell of a good boy on our side of the fence. We could all respect him, right? Wouldn't that boy make one hell of an enforcer?"
Arnie Farmer rose jerkily to his feet and delicately fingered the fabric of his trousers. "I got a hole in my ass the size of a golf ball," he announced in a voice thick with emotion. "That bastard put it there, and I'll never sit down in peace again until—"
Staccio said coldly, "You're not the only one. We all got our reasons for hating that boy's guts. But that's not the point. We got to be realistic. Our whole thing is going to fall apart around us if we don't start using our heads instead of our hots. Now we got a crisis, just like with the old wars. We got a crisis and we got to face up to that!"
Castiglione shivered. "Cop a plea with Bolan," he muttered, "… never! I mean
never
!"
"Hey, hey, let's cool it off," Marinello suggested. "You've both made your point, now let's sit down and discuss it, eh."
Castiglione sat, but growled, "You try burying the hatchet with this Bolan, you're gonna tear our thing apart for sure. There's too many scars, Augie, entirely too much to try forgiving and forgetting."
"Okay, okay, let's just talk about it," Marinello urged.
The Pennsylvania boss said, "What if we just made Bolan
think
we wanted to deal? Huh?"
"Don't you think he'd be smelling for that sort of thing anyway?" Staccio replied. "He's going to be suspicious as hell. I doubt if we could get him to listen even if we were a hundred percent sincere."
"So we're just wasting our time anyhow," Arnie Farmer commented. "Why are we wasting our time talking dumb ideas?"
"I got a boy," Pennsylvania said quietly. "He could get to Bolan."
"You mean Leo Pussy," Marinello replied thoughtfully.
"That's the boy. Sergio's nephew. He's running my Pittsfield action now. I think he—"
Staccio interrupted with, "That's the boy was with Bolan back when?"
"Yeah. I guess he could make the pitch if anyone could."
"What pitch?" Castiglione cried. "We ain't decided on no pitch!"
"I mean," Pennsylvania explained, "if we decide to go that way."
"Save us all a lot of time: I'm not deciding that way!"
Marinello said, "No harm in talking it over, huh Arnie? Let's think of it as flexibility, huh? Maybe we could have
two
things going at once. Like Appaloosas and stevedores… you catch?" He winked again, while shielding his face from the view of Joe Staccio. "Like a horse race, eh?"
"I don't know what you're getting at," Arnie Farmer Castiglione said sullenly.
"Well, let's just talk the possibility. Suppose we set up two programs. Huh? We turn Joe loose at this end, turn you loose at yours, see who gets to the finish line first. Huh?"
"Bullshit," Arnie Farmer replied.
"No, I'm serious." Marinello's glance flashed to the Pensylvania boss. "You really think this Leo Pussy could get next to Bolan?"
The other shrugged his shoulders. "If anybody can, he can."
The shrewd eyes moved to Staccio. "How about it, Joe? You want to sit down with Leo the Pussy and discuss things?"
The upstate man nodded solemnly.
"What kind of a deal?"
"He forgives, we forgive. And we bury the hatchet."
Arnie Farmer exploded with, "What the hell has
he
got to forgive?"
"We gotta be realistic, Arnie," the upstater explained. "This boy lost his whole family, and he figures their blood is on our hands. Now if we understand anything at all then we just got to understand a debt of blood. Right? So I say let's agree that one debt cancels out the other. Let's be realistic and see if we can't end this damned war."
Arnie Farmer fumed silently.
Marinello said, "Okay, let's say that both sides agree to bury the hatchet. Then what?"
Staccio shrugged his shoulders. "I haven't sat around and thought it out. But I think maybe Charley Lucky had the right idea, way back when."
"You mean we invite Bolan into the organization," Marinello said quietly.
Staccio again shrugged. "Why not? It worked before, it could work again. He'd be a hell of a good boy on our side of the fence. We could all respect him, right? Wouldn't that boy make one hell of an enforcer?"
Arnie Farmer rose jerkily to his feet and delicately fingered the fabric of his trousers. "I got a hole in my ass the size of a golf ball," he announced in a voice thick with emotion. "That bastard put it there, and I'll never sit down in peace again until—"
Staccio said coldly, "You're not the only one. We all got our reasons for hating that boy's guts. But that's not the point. We got to be realistic. Our whole thing is going to fall apart around us if we don't start using our heads instead of our hots. Now we got a crisis, just like with the old wars. We got a crisis and we got to face up to that!"
Castiglione shivered. "Cop a plea with Bolan," he muttered, "… never! I mean
never
!"
"Hey, hey, let's cool it off," Marinello suggested. "You've both made your point, now let's sit down and discuss it, eh."
Castiglione sat, but growled, "You try burying the hatchet with this Bolan, you're gonna tear our thing apart for sure. There's too many scars, Augie, entirely too much to try forgiving and forgetting."
"Okay, okay, let's just talk about it," Marinello urged.
The Pennsylvania boss said, "What if we just made Bolan
think
we wanted to deal? Huh?"
"Don't you think he'd be smelling for that sort of thing anyway?" Staccio replied. "He's going to be suspicious as hell. I doubt if we could get him to listen even if we were a hundred percent sincere."
"So we're just wasting our time anyhow," Arnie Farmer commented. "Why are we wasting our time talking dumb ideas?"
"I got a boy," Pennsylvania said quietly. "He could get to Bolan."
"You mean Leo Pussy," Marinello replied thoughtfully.
"That's the boy. Sergio's nephew. He's running my Pittsfield action now. I think he—"
Staccio interrupted with, "That's the boy was with Bolan back when?"
"Yeah. I guess he could make the pitch if anyone could."
"What pitch?" Castiglione cried. "We ain't decided on no pitch!"
"I mean," Pennsylvania explained, "if we decide to go that way."
"Save us all a lot of time: I'm not deciding that way!"
Marinello said, "No harm in talking it over, huh Arnie? Let's think of it as flexibility, huh? Maybe we could have
two
things going at once. Like Appaloosas and stevedores… you catch?" He winked again, while shielding his face from the view of Joe Staccio. "Like a horse race, eh?"
"I don't know what you're getting at," Arnie Farmer Castiglione said sullenly.
"Well, let's just talk the possibility. Suppose we set up two programs. Huh? We turn Joe loose at this end, turn you loose at yours, see who gets to the finish line first. Huh?"
"Bullshit," Arnie Farmer replied.
"No, I'm serious." Marinello's glance flashed to the Pensylvania boss. "You really think this Leo Pussy could get next to Bolan?"
The other shrugged his shoulders. "If anybody can, he can."
The shrewd eyes moved to Staccio. "How about it, Joe? You want to sit down with Leo the Pussy and discuss things?"
The upstate man nodded solemnly.
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