TONY AND CARL TOLD HIM everything about Smithson, what the building was like, how many men should be there, everything that could be relevant. How to carry out the mission was Gregory's job; they just explained what they wanted.
In Tony's organization, all the taboos and traditions of the Mafia had been broken, except for the only teaching that still remained: don't mess with drugs. One by one, each custom was abandoned, as the Italian without a country decided to do it his way. He began by accepting non-Italians into the organization in important positions.
His consigliere, Italo Morati, who had been in the position for decades, disapproved of his disrespectful attitudes towards the family's traditions. The man who had held the position of trust of his father since Tony was still a teenager, had become a burden in the business, for always opposing the innovative policy of his management, as he himself said. Until one day, Morati turned up dead in his own house. After this, the hierarchy model was abandoned due to lack of interest, no more unnecessary positions, no more Consiglieris, Capos and Soldattos, no more names in Italian. The origins were forgotten, just like their own identity. The milestone of the transformation was when the young Luca Capretti started to call himself Anthony Capretti, abandoning the last trace of his past with the original mafia. He became a gangster.
On the other hand, no personal connections or favors, only those who were truly capable were accepted. Everyone who joined the organization underwent some kind of test, fulfilling an order given at the time, which met Tony's interests. And only those who showed loyalty and perspicacity for many years would finally be able to be part of the new family.
STILL RESPONSIVE, THE NEWBORN accepted the mission, got up from the table and, even without being able to hide his nervousness, set off to fulfill it. As they watched the astonished young man leave among the drunks and prostitutes who were there, the boss and his foreman talked:
— Are you sure you want to send this boy there, Carlos? — Tony asked, a little more seriously. — It's clear from his eyes that he's never done anything like that...
— Certainty is a luxury we can't always have... — the old man replied, thoughtfully.
— He's just a naughty boy, and you know that in our lives, punishment is always six feet under...
— And you want to say that now? — the old man grumbled. — It's too late, what can we do? Tell him: forget it, give up this life and go fry hamburgers?
— It's your decision. I won't feel sorry if something happens to him... Smithson is not the man to mess with me, but he thinks he's the man to kill children like him. — Tony said, watching the last glimpses of the car disappearing into the darkness.
Carl fixed a cigarette in the corner of his mouth and said:
— He has potential, Tony, you'll see.
TOMMY WENT TO THE SMITHSON BUILDING. His mind wandered in the inescapable certainty that he would have to kill someone or be killed by someone. In the virginal excitement of experiencing something so serious for the first time, he felt adrenaline flow through his veins like blood. His morale seemed to be at odds with his expectations and everything became confused in the whirlwind of thoughts that mixed together in his mind. It was radical, but at the same time agonizing.
After rehearsing countless times what he would say in the various situations he had conjectured while making his way there, he finally found himself in front of the entrance to the building, leaving the car parked just around the corner.
Tommy was wearing jeans and a dress shirt with a suit jacket, matching the shiny black shoes he liked. At the nightclub, he had taken the Fedora hat that Carl had with him and had received a small . 22 caliber revolver from Tony.
He felt the calm on his face as he looked at each of the four floors of the old building that now served as a brothel and drug dealing place, where Benjamino was starting new types of illegal activities that were disturbing Tony's business. The guard standing at the small door with red lighting caught his attention when he saw him standing there, looking at everything.
— What's up, man? — Tommy was really startled by that, but he held back the nervousness in his throat and answered seriously:
— I want to talk to Smithson.
— And may I ask who you are? — said the huge troglodyte, lowering his head over Tommy in a tone of contempt.
— Are you Smithson by any chance? — he challenged him. — I have nothing to talk to you about. — The strong guard at the door roared with rage and threatened to grab him, but he wisely continued speaking:
— I come on behalf of Tony Capretti, what I came to discuss is with Smithson and only he can help me.
The man froze, he knew who Anthony Capretti was. He quickly contacted someone inside and asked what to do, seconds later, Tommy was allowed to enter the building.