

BunnyWine

VICTORIA BOLTON

Copyright © 2016 Victoria Bolton

All rights reserved.

Hairummat Books, White Plains, NY

Smashwords Edition

Cover Concept and Design by Victoria Bolton

ISBN: 9781310289750

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, are coincidental.

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To my mom and my religious friends, sorry about all of the curse words.  
For everyone else, enjoy!

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

#  Chapter 1

His eyes, full of curiosity, look at her. She glances back at him with visceral excitement.

"Okay, I want you to listen to me. First, hold it firmly."

He put his hands over hers. "You don't have to squeeze hard. That will make us both nervous," he added.

"Make sure your arms are right and your shoulders are relaxed. Lean forward, and don't pull on it. How you grip it is important. You don't have to force it, but do it enough, so you feel some resistance."

She looked at him as he continued to explain. "Keep your eyes on it, and start by pressing back without moving anything else. If you jerk too hard or flinch, it may go somewhere else."

The words made her eager to go. Their hearts began racing simultaneously.

"Relax," he added.

She held her breath while his body temperature and manhood started to rise. Looking at her in this position made him excited and nervous. She had never done this before.

She held up the gun and fired. The bullet landed right between the legs of the target in front of her. John had messed up her focus. The position of the round made him flinch.

"Okay, we are going to try this again, but this time, I will be behind that window over there while you shoot," he said while pointing to the bulletproof double-sided glass.

"It is hard to fire a gun over this stomach. Every time I fire it jerks me back," Bunny replied.

"And that's why you need to practice," John answered. "Try again," he added as he walked behind the glass.

Bunny pointed the gun, aimed, and fired. It landed on the shoulder of the target. "Much better," John said.

***

Bunny LeBlanc, formerly known as Celia Jones, had become adjusted to her new life in Jamaica. Moving there was one of the best decisions of her life. Jamaica was the most beautiful island in the Caribbean and living there with the man of her dreams, John LeBlanc, made it better. When she became a citizen of the island, she changed her name. Celia Jones was her maiden name back in New York City. She felt that she was no longer the person who associated with the agnomen. She had made it to the big time, and she needed a big name to match. John called her Bunny because when he met her, she was a waitress at the Playboy Club in New York.

The next plan for Bunny after her arrival was to become acquainted with the island. Before she married, she had spent a year getting to know the area. The mountains that scraped the clouds and the rivers made getting up every day a treat for her eyes. The sun was a welcome departure from the freezing winters and oppressively humid summers in New York. Bunny felt that this setting would change her energy for the positive. Settling down with John afforded Bunny the luxury of not having to work, but she chose to get a job part-time and continue her schooling. She eventually finished with a degree in music. Bunny thought things would have been different at first. When she decided to marry and go into business with John, she thought she would be out with him doing the inner workings of the mob. She had known for a long time what kind of work he and his former colleagues participated in years earlier. She found the life fascinating but was not a fan of the excessive violence. To her, it was all power, glamor, and mystery that made it appealing.

Being the wife of a former mob associate was not what she thought it would be. Instead of the adventure, John kept her away from it and had her focus her time on community-based activities. He cut back on the most of the illegal activities he used to do but retained the business aspect of the life. He was saved after his baptism at the family church in Jamaica. He refrained from most of the illegal activity that he once participated in. John wanted to keep Bunny sheltered, innocent, and her role in any of his business practices minor. Women who were wives, daughters, or sisters were to be protected. Even though John was not fully active anymore, he held on to many of the traditions and principals of the code.

Being idle was not in her blood. Bunny did not like too much down time. She felt that she would get fat and lazy if she did nothing but shop and clean house all day like other married women in the area. Bunny considered herself to be a trailblazer along with the others in the women's movement who were making moves for themselves. John initially protested to her working and wanted her home twenty-four seven so he could keep an eye on her. He was worried about her safety and the constant admiration from other men because of her good looks. Bunny was seven months pregnant with their second daughter, but that did not deter attention from men in the area. Everywhere she went there was one or two who did not hesitate to hit on her. She even got letters from one particular man who was in prison back in the states. Both Bunny and John knew who he was, but John intercepted those letters before she ever got to see them. John did not want her in contact with any other men, especially this man. He felt there was no need to revisit the past.

Bunny did not like to travel with security. She believed that walking around with big, burly bodyguards brought unnecessary attention to her. All she wanted to do was blend in with the locals. To ease John's fears, he encouraged her to keep a pistol on her at all times when she ventured out. If she were going to defend herself and live up to the oath she took, she would have to learn how to use a gun. The area was just too violent. Frequent trips to the gun range were necessary because Bunny needed a lot of practice. She wasn't very good at handling firearms, and this was a big concern for John. He felt that even if he remained fully active in the mob, she would not fare too well. She had a very long way to go. She was not quite ready to be a Donna, the female version of the Don. The first incarnation of John's old family Chimera used the term for women who were involved in the Cosa Nostra as accessories, and they were more common than many people realized.

After John and Bunny had married a few years back, she became pregnant, which was a surprise for the both of them. The thought of having his own child never crossed John's mind in the beginning. He did not see himself fathering children due to his lifestyle, but when Sophie was born all of that changed. Holding her reminded him of when he held his deceased best friend, Jerome's, son for the first time as his godfather. It brought a mix of emotions for John as he relished in this little girl who looked just like him and the thoughts of missing his best friend. Sophie was John's biggest accomplishment, and her little sister to come was just another gift to him. John decided that he and Celia would have as many kids as she would allow.

Their married life together had been peaceful as John began to rebuild the business that he and his former associates created from the ground up but this time with a different focus. John wanted to leave behind the days when he walked around as the boss of the organically built crime family, Chimera, and instead become the boss of his natural and growing family. John kept the name and rebranded his company as the New Chimera Group. He was the CEO, and he hired managers to run the daily operations of the smaller businesses.

His second in command, President of New Chimera Corp., Lawrence Bellinger, was a tall, six foot seven, dark brown man born in Houston, Texas but raised in New York City. John and Lawrence met while John was in the aftermath of the original Chimera Investment group and mob family. This was not too long after the death of his best friend, Jerome Dexter, under questionable circumstances. John felt that he had no close friends left besides Bunny but needed some support from fellow brothers in the area. John may have been diverse in his appearance, and he may have a light complexion that appealed to all races, but on the inside he was part of the black community, and he always knew this despite how much he tried not to show it in his early years. They struck up a friendship that soon turned into a business partnership. Lawrence was a known black businessman in Manhattan and the New Jersey area. John admired Lawrence's connections in the business world, both legit and underground. He was impressed with how far Lawrence was able to make it in a turbulent racial environment. Lawrence produced the numbers, and John had convinced him to leave his post at Johnson & Wilson Pharmaceuticals to join him. Lawrence and a few others were instrumental in helping rebuild the New Chimera group, as they are known today. Lawrence attended John and Bunny's wedding and helped usher her entrance in the omerta. He was not in the mainstream mob but was affiliated with his own group of brothers who had their own activities in the area. Many of these men had dealings with the Jet Mafia, a subgroup that John recruited from Philadelphia in his early days as boss of Chimera to help him.

Violent crime was no longer the anchor for New Chimera. Keeping the legacy of his late surrogate father and boss, Bernie Banks Rhodos, who built the original Chimera Group from the ground up, was important to him. Making this firm a highly respected and successful venture was John's way of honoring him. New Chimera's first focus was the Playboy Hotel in Ocho Rios. The resort was unique to the family because it was where he and Bunny tied the knot. The grounds were beautiful and made a great magnet for corporate events. Playboy Enterprises always had a special place in Bunny's heart, and it upset both of them when they decided to close the resort due to a devastating hurricane and unrest in the area. The price for repairs and increased security was more than the company was willing to spend. They also felt that it was no longer safe for their employees. The building remained empty until New Chimera inquired about gaining ownership and rebranding the resort. The amenities were perfect to turn it into a family vacation spot and tropical corporate event host once the political unrest subsided.

John's other business, BunnyWine, was growing in popularity in the area as well as in the states. The formula was tweaked slightly from its first introduction in New York in 1973. When Lawrence was hired as manager, he and John redesigned the bottle to be all black with a smooth matte finish. They removed the symbol of Bunny in her suit and just had the name BunnyWine in big bold letters up and down on the bottle as well as the production year. The critics in 1980 ranked the wine as the single greatest wine they had ever tasted. Several critics rated the wine one hundred out of one hundred. They scored it high because of the balance of alcohol, unusual fruity flavor, and dense texture, a combination they never tasted before. _Thick, chewy and incredibly sweet, yet still fresh,_ the critics raved. In celebration, the wine was officially rebranded as BunnyWine 1980. John was proud of his accomplishment of finally finding his dream bottle and running a winery business. He was also proud of the source in which the wine flavor was created, his wife's orgasm. John never revealed the source to anyone outside the original co-creator of the wine and Bunny. He wanted to keep it that way despite numerous inquiries from Lawrence and others. That was part of the allure and popularity of the wine, along with its flavor and value. The businessman in John kept the price for the drink high, giving BunnyWine the exclusivity he felt it deserved. He may not have had any college degrees, but he understood business, and that was one of his strongest points. BunnyWine remained in Kingston and employed many of the residents. Keeping the winery was their way of giving back to the local community during tough periods. At a time when businesses were leaving Jamaica in droves because of the socialist policies, John and Bunny decided to stick it out. The move made them popular with the locals.

In 1980, Kingston Jamaica was in great turmoil. It was election season and since John and Bunny's arrival on the island, political violence ruled the day. Ideological and policy divisions in the political system caused nearly one thousand people to be killed in political clashes. Manley was ousted because of his democratic socialist policies that had become increasingly unpopular. The United States labeled it communism, and the heavy economic sanctions imposed by the US government crippled the economy. The US government did not appreciate the friendly relationship between Fidel Castro of Cuba and Manley. The penalties made it hard for the residents without means to survive and live comfortably. This contributed to the clashes of the locals. BunnyWine survived because of its growing international popularity and the respect it had from the people there. John was initially excited to move there with Bunny but, after a while, the love affair living in the heart of Kingston soured a little bit.

The Jamaican Labor Party won the election in 1980 and violence erupted. Downtown Kingston was hit the hardest as well as Trenchtown and Tivoli Gardens. The JLP right wing party was headed by Edward Seaga, who was a former music promoter. He secured the election which won the favor of the United States and the CIA. They were successful in throwing Manley, who was head of the People's National Party, out of office. The money Seaga attained through this favorable relationship with the US was used to buy guns that were dispersed throughout the ghettos of Kingston. They paid groups of youths to fight those who were supporters of the PNP. The kids included small children who were trained to use the firearms. These guns were used in the eruption of violence that happened soon after and lasted for nine months. Many of the gunmen eventually became yardies. This was to discredit the sitting government abilities to keep the peace in Jamaica. Parties on each side battled each other for votes. The violence reached everyone. Amidst the violence, someone affiliated with the CIA used a flammable petroleum jelly that was not available in Jamaica to set fire to the Eventide home where hundreds of elderly women resided. More than one hundred fifty of them perished in the fire. Their phone wires were cut so they could not call for help, and the exits were blocked. The place burned down in less than ten minutes. Bunny was out one evening with her mother when a fierce gunfight broke out between clashing groups in the area. They were huddled in one of the homes of a local for hours until the gunfire ended. The bullets did not discriminate. They hit houses, trees, and anything in their path. One of the bullets went through the wall of the house, ricocheted off of a desk, and missed Bunny's head by inches.

John loved the people, but political unrest and violence became an issue for him and his family. The sound of gunfire became just as ordinary as the traffic sounds would be back at home in New York City. He made the decision to move the family to a higher income area due to the turbulence. He felt that it was safer for them. John still wanted to give back to the community because his daughters were now natives. He wanted their birthplace to be a little better. He had a good relationship with the police, but he did not want to chance things by crossing them.

John had his own political ideas on how things should be run. His decisions were heavily influenced by Bunny. When she arrived, not only did the great weather and excellent tourist atmosphere attract her, but the passion of a government that put people first. That philosophy had changed over the past decade, and corporate interests were taking over once again. Bunny and John were part of the corporate machine although they did not outwardly reflect that to the community. Their hearts were behind Manley, and they made sure to take care of their people. John considered a run for political office, but first, he decided to invest in local community projects as well as some back home in New York. He imagined being like Manley, who at one point used to be picked up in crowds in Jamaica by those who celebrated him. John had the looks and the ability to convince even the toughest critic that he was a good guy. There were doubters, and John knew that he had to work on them a little longer.

When it was time for the kids in the area to return to school, John and Bunny sponsored back-to-class backpack and school supply drives and giveaways. He built basketball courts and recreational buildings on school grounds, and in Bunny's name established a music center and filled it with brand new instruments and other music equipment for the local schools there. Bunny volunteered her time to teach the school kids, especially the girls, the fundamentals of music writing and playing the piano. They were heroes. John was able to live peacefully here without the fear of the law, and he appreciated that. Karlus, an established local church minister, benefitted greatly from the LeBlanc family. He had married them and baptized John. His church got a new building with updated Bibles and other materials. By the time Sandra, their second daughter, was born Bunny and John were ready to reinvent themselves as heavy political influencers.

To solidify their future political ambitions, John and Bunny decided to take a chance and return to New York. John wanted to start a foundation to help the underserved youth in New York City. He knew he had a reputation for years before, but his strategy was to show them that he was a changed man and that he did not run with organized crime anymore. He wanted to use his life as a testament to earn the favor of the people. The foundation would run along the same lines as the one they had established in Jamaica. He had Mariana Dexter in mind to run it. Mariana was Jerome's widow and mother of their son, Jerome Jr. John felt that this foundation would be a good thing for the both of them and give their son something to have for the future. John contacted Mariana about the idea and after hours of conversation and impromptu planning, the Dixon Rhodos Scholarship Foundation was founded. The name is in honor of both Jerome and Bernie. Their first line of business was to hold a fundraiser for business people who they knew would contribute. While John and Bunny made their plans to return home to New York, Mariana got on the phone with friends of the family who could help. She got the word out to everyone that John and Bunny were having a homecoming.

It had been years since John and Bunny returned to the states. They were off the radar for some time; both of them thought it was safe to go back for a while. John, Bunny, the kids, and her mother left and boarded a plane back to New York City for the first time in seven years. While Bunny decided to settle in a room at the residence where Mariana and Jerome Jr. lived, John returned to the Bronx to meet with Mariana and Jerome Jr. He and Bunny tried to convince her to move to a better section of the city and offered money for her to leave the area. John thought that it was his duty as Jerome Jr.'s godfather to do so. He and Bunny offered Mariana a high-level position at BunnyWine, Inc., but she would have to move herself and the baby to Jamaica. Mariana declined the offer. She wanted to stay with her extended family that still remained in the South Bronx. Being a widow was hard for her, and she missed Jerome dearly. Her family provided comfort for her as she had her moments of postpartum depression. She never imagined raising a baby alone. Bunny and John would send Mariana gifts for her and Jerome Jr. for Christmas, birthdays, and when it was time for Jerome Jr. to go to kindergarten. The gifts came with a condition that she would not be too flashy due to the area she lived. People may would think she was loaded, and that would put her and the baby at risk. Mariana loved the Bronx. Despite its drawbacks, the Bronx had the most clubs, the most musicians, and the place was spiritual to her and her family. South Bronx and East Harlem were where her heart laid and where she lost her husband to violence. Her soul was there, and she could not bring herself to leave. She felt that way every time she stepped off the number 2 train.

Returning to the area was a shock to John. He and Bunny had been in Jamaica for only a few years but during that time, some things had changed back home. The area was desolate when he left, but it seemed it had become worse in just a few short years. Garbage was everywhere. Bikes were chained to poles, but some were missing their tires. Biker groups had joined the ranks of gangs in the area. The partially boarded, abandoned, and burned out buildings were still there, but the amount of them had multiplied to where there were entirely burned out blocks. In the late Seventies, the South Bronx had practically burned to the ground. However, he saw kids bring mattresses and pieces of furniture into some of these buildings. They were building their own hangouts from the ashes. The kids did this because the city sold some of those abandoned buildings for a dollar and, in turn, they built their own clubs. Kids would spend days there, many times many mothers were looking for their kids because they spent so much time in these rundown makeshift clubs. Sprinklers were opened with kids playing in the water; graffiti remained on the trains but had gotten worse. The entire city was covered in colorful scribbles. One of them he noticed said "broken promises" and another row of train cars spelled "criminals winning again." Virtually every train in the city was covered with elaborate spray painted designs on the outside. Inside the trains, every inch had something written on it. The cars used to be clean, and everyone who rode was dressed nicely. Now it seemed that the people who rode them were downtrodden or carefree. The handwritten décor had become part of ordinary life but also brought fear to some people who rode them. The people who painted the murals took pride in their work and considered it getting up, a way to get their name known in the city. Basketball was big, and kids were playing in every open court in the park or a makeshift court in the street with a hoop made from a milk crate that was hoisted and tied to a pole.

One thing John noticed, the music seemed to unite some of the various groups in the area. Assemblies of teenagers jammed in the parks, breakdancing on flattened cardboard boxes while rap music played on boom boxes. Some of them had their own systems setup with speakers, amplifiers, turntables, and records. They were hotwired to the streetlight poles to power the equipment. Many people assembled outside to watch the DJ battles between the groups. Everything was cool between the b-boys, as they were called, as long as no one stepped on anyone else's Adidas. The atmosphere was enjoyable, but the music was not something John could relate to. There were fliers for DJ events everywhere. Fab Five Freddy's sounds were attractive, but John did not understand the rap music and thought that it lacked real instruments and deft. It was nothing like the SKA, Rocksteady, and Blues that he loved. John grew up in a different era. He attributed it to getting older. He no longer saw pockets of Irish and Jewish residents. It seemed they had all fled the area. The flight was attributed to the construction of the Cross Bronx Expressway. It was the roadway that allowed these families to practically drive away from the deteriorating area for good. When President Ford visited the area and subsequently told New York City to drop dead a few years before, the area never seemed to recover. They never got the aid they needed to get everything back on track.

***

Bunny and Mariana had met up for the first time in a while. They were happy to see each other. Bunny gave Jerome Jr. a big hug and a kiss. He was a sweet and healthy child with an excellent temperament just like his father had. He looked just like Jerome Sr. except the little boy had his mother's skin tone and looser textured hair.

"He is so sweet. What is it like to have a boy?" Bunny asked Mariana.

"Boys are entertaining. They are rough, and they love to get filthy. I am constantly trying to keep this boy clean," Mariana said.

"John always wanted a son. I hope it happens. We already have two girls. He wants more testosterone around. He's outnumbered," Bunny said.

"Are you going to try for another one in the future?" Mariana asked.

"It's happening now," Bunny responded.

"Are you serious? You just had one. Give your uterus a rest, why don't you," Mariana joked.

"This one feels different. I think it may be a boy this time. I'm going to tell him soon, but I want to make sure. I am only a few weeks, so I will have to get to a doctor to make sure. It's very early. I was instantly sick with the first two. This time, I'm all right."

Mariana starts counting on her hands. "Your baby girl isn't even a year old yet. Sandra isn't even in kindergarten yet. You gotta have a gap in between kids so you can snap back or else you won't get your shape back. You are not showing right now, but you are going to blow up and stay that way if you keep doing that."

"I know. If this is a boy, I'm taking a break," Bunny said.

Mariana wanted to go out for the evening. A lot of places had opened up in the city since Bunny and John had left, and Mariana wanted to show her. She had her favorite places. Bunny was still able to go out before her body began to actually change.

"It's been awhile. We need to go out. Don't worry; I will take you to the safe places, got to protect the boy. I have some places to tell you about then we can choose."

"I'm interested. Tell me about it," Bunny said.

"Well, there is The Paradise Garage. It's cold in there, but once you start dancing, you heat up. The lights are great, and the music is good. There is a decent mix of crowds on different nights. Then we have the big one, Studio 54. All of the stars go there. I know someone who works there, the guy who works the door so I can get in at any time. It's good to have the connections here," Mariana explained.

"Now that place sounds great."

"You need to see this club. It's big, like theater big. It's pretty glamorous, dancing galore, fun people. They play Disco, but there are drugs, lots of drugs there. Be careful about going into the bathrooms because people have sex in there so you may want to pee before you leave, and don't drink too much. I went in one of those bathrooms once and saw too much. Another night I went to the club, a naked woman on a white horse was riding everywhere in the middle of the dancefloor. Tits, ass, and everything bouncing on this horse while it rode around and everybody was enjoying it. She was like the club's mascot or something. On another night in the downstairs room, the room where all of the secret stuff goes on, Mrs. Carter was there. I am not joking girl. The president's mother was down there smoking a joint. I saw Jacksons, rock people, you name it. You would not believe the people who show up and sat down there. I'm gonna take you there," Mariana boasted.

"Okay, that does not sound like a place I need to be. I have children."

"I am a mother, too, but sometimes as parents, we need a break. Jerome Jr. is a great kid, but he can be a handful. He's right about that age where they start thinking for themselves. He is too big for me to keep him on my lap now. I just send him over to my mom, and I go out to let off some steam. You can't be in mommy mode all of the time. You would go nuts, especially here. It's the1980's now, enjoy it before your fun goes away," Mariana said.

"Well, I'll think about it, but I won't drink anything and just keep me away from the joints. I don't like either. I don't want to get roofied."

"Okay, nun woman," Mariana said, and put her hands together in a prayer pose.

"What else has happened here?" Bunny asked.

Mariana sat down at the table.

"You missed so much here. We had that blackout. Girl, everything got looted. It wasn't sudden; it was like one by one stuff started going off. It was hot as hell that day, and we had like four fans running. The TV went off, and I thought we did something like overload the circuits. Then we went outside to go down to the basement and saw that everything was off. People started filling the streets and then just like that, people were out of control. People were running around; you heard glass breaking, guns going off and shit. It was only for like a day, but when it was dark, you couldn't see shit around here. I had the baby in here hiding with me. We didn't want to get caught out there. They looted everything and then burned more stuff. We didn't have a functioning grocery store for ages after that. They robbed the banks, the department stores, everything. Even the white people were doing it. But guess what, I didn't hear about anybody dying. They were all too busy getting free stuff. My cousins brought back so much stuff; they had to store some of it in my apartment. They had brought a refrigerator full of stuff and then some other things," Mariana said.

"I've heard about that. I hope they didn't catch you with any of that stuff," Bunny said.

"Well, I didn't personally take anything. Like I told you I stayed in here with my baby, but he had enough clothes and shoes to last him for a bit. My cousins brought stuff back for everybody. I didn't like that they did that because stealing is wrong, but who was I to tell them to stop. Everybody was out there. I could do nothing but mind my own business."

"Good. I don't want to think that we are harboring a criminal," Bunny joked.

"Ha ha, very funny," Mariana said. She continued to talk.

"Then we had the killer. This Sam guy was running around just shooting random folks. He didn't have a type either, he just randomly picked people and shot them. He had all of us scared, even the gang bangers, at least, the ones in Manhattan. He didn't come up this way because I guess he didn't care about shooting us. He probably felt sorry for us over here. Either that or he would have been smoked in no time. That was also a few years ago."

"They caught that guy, didn't they?" Bunny asked.

"Yes, they did. Thank God for that."

"You know where I wanna go? I want to see the old building," Bunny said.

"What old building?"

"Chimera. I just want to see what it looks like now. I know it's not ours anymore, but I want to see it. I haven't seen anything about it since it burned down. I am thinking about taking John over there to see it."

"That's deep. How do you think he would take it?" Mariana asked curiously.

"I don't know," Bunny answered.

***

Brenda Wilson was just like every other citizen of the South Bronx. Like many Afro-Latinas in the area, she has been hardened by the circumstances of life and her choices. She and others in the area saw that her future was limited by her means. Brenda previously gained her funds by attaching herself to her male partners and whatever low paying jobs she could attain. This was the only way she knew how to survive. She has a son to take care of, and he required a lot of attention. Her self-declared boyfriend was in prison. His name was Ben Berardi, a former Mafia associate, and failed drug dealer. He was the biological father of her son, Junior.

Brenda had to make some tough choices during her pregnancy. Her then-boyfriend, Jose, was murdered in a gang fight, and her affair with his roommate Ben left her unsure of the paternity of her unborn child. Until she was sure, she passed the child off to Jose's family as his. She did not have many choices. Ben was arrested shortly after Jose's death in unrelated circumstances. Ben could not provide any monetary support to her while in prison. When Junior was born, it became apparent to her who his father was, and she knew that she had to take measures to make sure her secret was not discovered unless Ben was able to make it out of prison early.

Brenda did not change much after the death of Jose and Ben's incarceration. She wanted to make sure that the boy connected with Ben at all costs. To not trigger suspicion from Jose's family, Brenda referred to the boy as Junior at all times. She told Jose's family that calling him Junior was better than calling him Jose. This way, calling the baby Junior around both Ben and Jose's family would not have her slip up with the names. She planned to tell Jose's family about the real situation one day but not before she got herself together and had a clean way to escape. Brenda was forced to get a day job to support herself. In her spare time, she enjoyed smoking reefer as a way to relax. Brenda never kicked the habit. Thankfully she never picked up the heavier drug habits that she learned from Ben during the time of their affair. She did retain the knowledge of how to produce heroin. She felt that she would put that useful info to practice if she had no other options.

Brenda did not have homemaking skills despite growing up with many brothers and sisters in a cramped apartment in Harlem. Her studio flat was a mess with toys and clothes scattered throughout. Brenda moved away from home shortly after Junior was born. With the help of donations from some of Jose's friends in the Ghetto Brothers, she was able to find her own place. The rest of her family could not help her, and there was no room in the small apartment for another person. Many of them had their own issues with life and the law. Her mother stopped speaking to her once she found out about the pregnancy because she felt Brenda was her best chance at having a successful child, but that proved to be a failure.

She often had her utilities shut off as there were times she only had enough to pay the rent and not much else. Her landlord took full advantage of her and showed no mercy for her situation. There were many other single mothers in the area in the same predicament. Why would Brenda be unique? The only consistent meals she could muster up and afford on her own were noodles, grilled cheese, peanut butter jelly sandwiches, and whatever she stole from her job at Caldor. Vegetables and dairy items were expensive, so she could not consistently feed him cereal or cook him full breakfasts and dinners. All Brenda could provide was soda and water for beverages. She knew that this was not proper nutrition, but it was all she could do on her own. Junior was old enough to understand that he was not being cared for properly at home. He preferred to go to his grandmother's house and eat. Grandmother would cook big meals for him. Junior would complain, "Mommy, I want real food." Brenda would sometimes snap at him. "Get a job. You're five years old? Well, then you will eat what I give you or starve!" She felt sick when she would yell at him and would make it up by offering him candy so he would feel better. It was all she knew what to do to keep him calm. Minor things out of order would often upset him. Junior had issues with tantrums, and she did not know why or what set him off. She was terribly worried that he was a special needs child, and she did not know how to handle that. There were not many resources available to poor mothers in the Bronx at the time. She would try to read to him but was often too tired to do so once she left work for the day. Junior's speech was not bad, but he lacked social skills. He was good when it came to begging. His favorite words were, "I want." He would be six years old soon, and she figured that he would start kindergarten shortly. Hopefully, whatever was going on with him and his development would improve once he started school on a daily basis. She thought it had to work since he would be there every day.

In the beginning, Brenda had one of her neighborhood friends, who stayed at home on welfare, to watch Junior for a small fee or some weed for payment. When she did not have the means to pay this babysitter, she dropped Junior off at his Grandmother Rita's apartment. Rita was Jose's mother. She was a traditional churchgoing Hispanic woman and had high hopes for Jose when he was young. Rita was disappointed in his choice to join the Ghetto Brothers gang. She wanted her son to get married and get a regular job but disapproved of his choice of girlfriend. Even under the best circumstances, Rita would have never allowed Jose to wed Brenda.

Rita was a reluctant babysitter, but she did it as a favor. For most of Junior's life, she thought that he belonged to Jose, but there were little things that made her question his paternity from time to time. Rita never trusted Brenda as she knew that Brenda was one of those girls who ran with the gangs on the street and was loose with her body. Jose's mother was still in deep mourning for the loss of her son and wanted any small part of him to remain active in her life. Rita was also a widower as her husband died when Jose was young, and Jose grew up as an only child. Rita, and the rest of Jose's family, would spend lots of money on Junior because they felt sorry for Brenda and him growing up without a father. Brenda was appreciative of this and took full advantage of the situation. At times, the gifts were so plentiful that she had money left over at the end of the month. Rita provided food, toys, and money to Brenda for Junior. Instead of saving the money that she earned from her job, Brenda spent it on herself. The sporadic hardships did not stop her from the occasional shopping splurge on herself at the stores in the Bronx, Orchard Street, Grand Street and Delancy Street, or "D-Street," as it was known in Manhattan. Brenda made sure she stayed in the latest designer clothes like sheepskin coats, bomber jackets, Bally shoes, and British Walkers for her and the baby. Appearance was important in the early Eighties. You could be poor but don't look poor. Brenda had the funds to pay for the items she bought, but she could never leave those stores without some haggling from the shop workers for whatever money she could afford to pay. She felt that she and Junior deserved it. Rita knew that Brenda was wasteful, and she was resentful of her irresponsible behavior. Rita would often have an attitude with Brenda as a result.

While Brenda worked and shopped, Rita struggled with Junior. She made numerous attempts to bond with him by taking him to the park or church activities where other small children were playing. Junior would sometimes not make eye contact with other kids, and when he was pressed by them, he would snap and hit them. His tantrums were loud and distracting. This caused concern wherever they went, and there were a couple of times Rita was asked not to bring Junior around or to find him some help. The members of Rita's church group loved to gossip and talk about other people. A big topic of conversation was Junior's appearance. He was the whitest child in the entire congregation. The questions from the other women would be, "How did he get so light skinned? You must be happy with that straight hair." Rita knew something wasn't right. Jose was brown with coarser hair. She knew it was always a possibility of a baby having a distant relative's genetics, but both Brenda and Jose did not fit the bill. Junior's eyes were too light. They had a bluish tone, and that was unusual for brown-skinned people. His behavior was more aggressive than other babies in her family. She continued to care for Junior until one afternoon while walking down the avenue with a fidgety Junior and a grocery bag, another person on the street stopped her and asked Rita if she were babysitting for a white family. She wanted to see if Rita would take other children to look after. This set Rita off, and she decided to confront Brenda once and for all. She'd had enough of the arrangement.

Rita waited until Brenda got off of work to confront her. When they arrived back at the apartment, Junior was having yet another afternoon of severe tantrums after Rita would not let him run around outside alone. Rita was at her wits end. She was so fed up that she pulled out a roll of duct tape from her kitchen drawer, ripped a piece off, and put it over Junior's mouth to shut him up. Rita made sure not to cover his nose because she did not want to kill him. She just wanted a few minutes of peace and quiet. He continued to cry and scream under the tape until his face turned red. He eventually stopped and went to the corner of the room to fiddle with some toys while the tape was still over his mouth. When Brenda arrived to pick him up, she saw Junior's state. She lost it.

"Why does he have tape over his face? Are you watching what he's doing?" Brenda asked as she went over to Junior to remove the tape.

Junior screamed that it hurt as she tried to pull it, but his snot and tears loosened the grip of the tape. She was able to remove it. Brenda left him in the corner with his toys, and he resumed playing as if nothing happened.

Brenda walked over and stood right in Rita's face. Her voice was curt. "What the fuck is your problem. Who tapes a baby's face?"

"I'm tired of this. Tell me the truth right now! This boy is not from us, is he? He is not Jose's son. He's white! Nobody has blond hair in this family! His eyes are blue, and you are too dark to pull that off," Rita told her.

"How could you say that about him? He's right over there!" Brenda snapped back.

"I don't care. He doesn't listen to me anyway," Rita yelled.

Junior knew that his mother and grandmother had another disagreement. He was young, but he knew when he was around people who were stressed. They were never quiet when they fought. "I don't care anymore! He's destructive; he throws things and has tantrums. He doesn't listen. None of the children in this family ever behaved that way. I could never bond with him, and now I know why. Did you know someone on the street, a stranger, thought I was walking around with a white baby? Do you know how much they talk about me in church? Don't you know how embarrassing that is? You bring in this baby and take advantage of this family. You use Jose's memory for your own gain. I bet you don't know who this child came from, you slut!" she screamed.

Brenda raised her hand and hit Rita across the face. Rita was too shocked to hit back.

"For your information, I do," Brenda snapped.

Stunned, all Rita could do was yell at Brenda. "Do not hit me! Get out of this house. Take that baby and get out of here! Go and find his real family. Until you can prove he belongs to us, you or that child don't ever come back here! If you do come back here, I'll call the police and tell them you hit me!" Rita yelled.

Brenda knew she messed up, but her pride would not let her apologize. She knew Rita was right about everything she'd said. She went over and grabbed Junior and his jacket, and left the apartment to never return.

"You were the worst thing that has ever happened to my son! He did not deserve you! He deserved better!" Rita yelled and cried at Brenda as she and Junior walked away from the family for the last time. "I want every penny we ever gave you back!" Rita continued to yell. "Nanah!" Junior said as he reached out to her. Rita slammed the door in his face.

Everything transpired so quickly that Brenda had no time to process what had just happened. She returned to her apartment and put a restless Junior in the tub for his bath. Brenda cried as she cleaned him. Junior sensed that she was stressed and calmed down for the first time in hours. He looked at her with a feeling of pity and confusion. "I'm sorry, Mommy, don't cry," he said to her, not understanding why she was in tears. She looked at him. "It's okay. We'll be okay. We don't need her," she told him and continued to clean him. Brenda was helpless and felt that the only person she could turn to for help was Ben. What was she going to do with Junior while she worked? She knew she could not go back to grilled cheese every day for her son. Brenda was angry at herself for messing up a good thing. She had to think of something quick. Brenda had friends who had resorted to turning tricks for a night or two to catch up on bills or in the case of an emergency. Once she finally put Junior to bed for the evening, she found a phone and called one of her friends. This was not a long term plan for her. She was doing this for her baby and had plans to give some of it to Ben in the commissary. Brenda was in a bind and couldn't think of anywhere else to go for some quick money. She needed someone to watch Junior until she made other solid plans. Her access to weed was limited, so her neighbor would not be an option if she could not pay her anything else. Brenda managed to get her neighbor to watch him on an IOU for a couple of nights.

A two-mile stretch of Jerome Avenue was the hotbed for prostitution, and this was the area Brenda was instructed to go to for her first trick. She would pick her customers and have them take her to the recommended motel on the strip which was The Jerome on 176th Street. This motel was the one that her friends told her to go to do her tricks. The late night staff knew about the women who would bring men there on a nightly basis as these were some of the same women every day. They kept quiet and let them use the rooms for a cut. The charge was twenty-five dollars for a short stay although they didn't openly advertise this. The hotel was under investigation for promoting prostitution by police officials. The workers were scared of getting arrested if they knowingly let the women use the rooms. That did not deter the girls from using it. Unless the authorities closed the motel for good, the police would come, the girls disappear for a while and, once the radar goes off of them again, the girls return and bring their clients with them like clockwork. The customers went there because of the easy access to heroin, women, and anything else they wanted was right there on Jerome Avenue. Brenda's friends told her that if she were good with her skills and delivered, she could bring in as much as three hundred dollars that night. They instructed her to be careful to not confront the other girls on the strip. Some were territorial. Brenda was used to showing her skills to men who she'd actually dated or knew in some way. She was not used to strangers and hoped that this one night that she needed the money would go smoothly and would be enough to hold her up for a while.

Brenda wore her most attractive club outfit. It was one of the skin-tight halter tops she wore when she went out looking for a man. It wasn't flashy, but it was hot pink. Her miniskirt was short but stylish. She liked the skirt because it had back pockets that kept things secure. Brenda was still attractive, so it did not take long for cars to pull up to her. She was selective in whom she chose to go with. If the car was cheap or if the man looked weird, she passed them up. Most of the men were this way, so Brenda was worried that this trip was a bust. She only needed one guy who was loaded. Not too long after she passed up a bunch of offers, Brenda got in an expensive BMW with a man who looked friendly, and they drove twenty blocks from her post. He insisted that he was taking her to a safe spot. He was dressed in a business suit and still on had his wedding band. They stopped at the side of a building in a middle-class neighborhood that had its streetlights half off. Brenda did not seem alarmed because the houses on the block looked well maintained. The customer parked his car, and the man handed Brenda a one hundred dollar bill. Brenda was happy about the large payment on her first try and decided to get it over with. This should be quick, she thought. Brenda inquired about why they were there and not the recommended hotel she mentioned. He told her that he knew people who worked there and did not want to be noticed. He had a family, and his reputation was important to him. Brenda took the money, folded it, and secured it in her back pocket. He immediately unzipped his pants and pulled out his penis. He grabbed the back of her head to get her to suck it. Brenda resisted. She told him to wait. The man got angry after ten seconds. He wanted her to start immediately and get it over with so he could go home. She asked him to put on a condom. He resisted because he did not want to use one. She did a quick examination to make sure nothing looked off about his penis and started, but stopped because she did not like his smell, and it made her gag. She put her head back up.

"Something else, let's do something else. I have condoms, please," she told him.

"I did not pay you for something else. I want this," he said.

"I can't do this."

Brenda's conscience was beginning to get to her. She knew it wasn't a place she should be. She thought about Junior and wanted to return home to him. The man got angrier as he waited for her to perform and grabbed the back of her head to force it back down. Brenda fought, but he began hitting her in the head and pushing it down hard. She managed to bite him on his penis. He yelled and started cursing at her for taking his money and not delivering. He started grabbing her body in hopes of finding the hundred dollar bill he'd just given her. She tried to get out of the car, but he had started it and began to drive off. She managed to get the door open when he was halfway down the block and fell out when he turned the corner. Brenda hit her head on the car door and pavement as he drove off. She laid there for a couple of minutes on the side of the street. Her head was spinning. She closed her eyes for a few seconds then reopened them. She sat up and remained there until she managed to get up. She had blood coming from her mouth from her busted lip and a mild concussion. Her face had tiny scratches on it from hitting the ground. Her arm scraped on the pavement, her top torn, and she was dizzy and confused but managed to stand up. She did not know where she was and decided to walk until she found an open bodega to get help. She took her thin wallet out from her left back pocket, took out the twenty dollars she had at the beginning of the evening, and put the money in her right back pocket with the hundred dollar bill, and threw it on the street. When she got there, the man behind the counter was mortified with what he saw. He asked her what happened. She told him she was robbed. She would never tell anyone that a trick had knocked her out of his running car. He told her to stay put while he called the police. This was the first and last night she would turn a trick for money. Brenda decided it was not for her. Raising Junior was tough but not worth messing up her life by being a temporary prostitute.

Brenda was taken to the hospital where she treated and released. It was morning, and she called her neighbor and asked if she could keep Junior for the rest of the day. Brenda would pay her an extra ten dollars for the trouble. She went home and tended to her scratches. She was an expert in makeup application, so covering it would not be an issue for her.

#  Chapter 2

Ben Berardi, a forty-something-year-old Italian man, always had a penchant for thuggery and criminality. He was versed in theft and petty theft by hitting up stores in his neighborhood in his younger years. He was too lazy to work the same way many other teenagers had in the area. A paper route or sweeping a floor was beneath him. He worked at a delicatessen, but he ran gambling wages that were in slips and envelopes for his boss. Getting an education was not a priority. The Army taught him how to kill with no conscience, which he tried his best not to do and went out of his way to avoid participating in heavy combat. He would often let captives go, which angered his superiors. At the time, he considered himself a robber, not a murderer. The drugs helped him cope. At Chimera, he learned how to cheat, lie, manipulate, and con. These were in his now-third prison stint. A verbal altercation in jail could end in a cutting or beat down. Sometimes it did not take anything for an inmate to try to attack someone. They were miserable, cynical, and simply didn't like that others weren't as stressed as they were. Ben knew who to test and who to leave alone simply by intuition. His primary goal was to avoid being raped or killed. He stayed with other whites in prison, mainly other Italians. He felt that he could bond with them the most and perhaps learn a few things. Many of them were affiliated with the Mafia or drug trafficking in some capacity, and were incarcerated because of the newly enforced RICO laws, and were sent there by snitching and the FBI. He knew others who were at the prison. Some of those men were affiliated with the Jet Mafia, who worked for Chimera years before. Ben never made an effort to associate himself with the set. He never liked them.

Ben was in this space before while he served in the Army. He was under court martial for insubordination. He was also jailed in his late teens. During his first trip to prison, he shared cells with men who were in for murder, robbery, and kidnapping. Prison in his early years was rough for Ben. He had a tough time with the conditions. The prison was disgusting and poorly maintained. The walls were peeling paint from decades of neglect, and the urinals in the cells often held brown and stagnant water and did not always function. The smell of urine permeated throughout the entire jail.

Ben was reasonably attractive. Fellow inmates used to verbally molest him as he walked around the hole. He knew he could not retaliate because there is no such thing as getting even in prison. Ben had a decent relationship with the guards, even though at times some of the night shift guards would steal things from his cell. He had to keep an eye out for his safety during mass moves, which were trips to the yard or movie time for inmates. Hundreds of prisoners at a time moved like cattle, and that was a time when if an attack were to happen, a prisoner would make his move. Many of the inmates were restless since lockup was twenty-three hours a day. Outside time was limited to about forty-five minutes, giving inmates time to go in and out. If a riot were to occur, it would usually happen very quickly because of the short period. Sometimes he knew when the riots were ready to happen and did not go to the yards. He did not want to be collateral damage. He once friended a fellow inmate for help, and that kept the predators off of him. In return, Ben became a prison kid and had to run all of the errands for him. This continued to happen until he was released due to overcrowding and after he knocked his sponsor out cold. They had to be separated after that because the prison sponsor threatened his life. Ben was released before anything happened to him. He ran away to join the Army after he secured his job at Chimera.

Ben never wanted to return to jail a third time. He was sure he would win and not be in this space again. He knew that his poor emotional and drug fuel decisions got him here. Ben could hear the disappointment in Bernie's voice if he knew that Ben was in this situation again. He felt sorry about the betrayal that he participated in when it came to Bernie's trust. He knew that he had done some questionable things in the past, but he would insist that the drugs were taking over, and it was not his conscience doing the decision-making. He adjusted to his shared prison cell and cellmate, Eddie. Ben had set boundaries with him to make sure that the rooming situation didn't cause problems. Each one had their striped cot on separate sides of the cell, and they shared the other amenities such as the TV, a kettle, and a small wood desk drawer. Both of them had their own writing pads to send letters.

Ben gained weight, not bulky weight, but enough to fill in his emaciated frame and restore most of his looks back to their original luster when he was in his prime at Chimera. Years of heroin and other drugs had taken a toll on his physique and mental state. The only thing that had not changed in his physical appearance was his poor quality tattoos. The teardrop he received on a whim when he reentered prison served as a plus for him. Inmates knew that a teardrop meant that Ben has popped someone at some point. This helped keep the bullies away from him, plus he had a known name. No one wanted to test him this time.

The few years he had been locked up helped him get clean, and the counseling provided helped him come to terms with most of his demons. The discipline of the prison system helped him. The rules were strict. The prisoners were told, "Don't think, we'll do the thinking for you. We'll tell you when to eat, we'll tell you when to wake up, we'll tell you how to wear your uniform. We'll tell you when you can change your hair, we'll tell you when to shave. It's up to us whether you live or die. Ben did not have a problem with those rules. It made life easier for him because he did not have to do anything except breathe and watch his ass. He spent his free time in the yard lifting weights and at the prison library reading law books and figuring out a way to shorten his sentence. He felt that his only hope out of jail was the possibility of a new lawyer.

Ben did not have many visitors. He was considered "hot" in the streets, so many people he knew who were still active in the mob life and drug game refused to come and see him. John and Ben severed ties after Jerome's funeral, and he did not hear from Bunny anymore. Ben was officially shelved. That meant that Ben was dropped from Chimera but not killed. This only happened in very few instances. Typically, a person who deflects is murdered by the mob. Bunny prevented that from happening. The only frequent visitor on family days was Brenda, the mother of his young son. At times he would look forward to seeing her and on other occasions, he dreaded the sight of her. He would sometimes wait the forty-five minutes for her visit to be approved and hope she would change her mind and turn the other way so he did not have to deal with her, but she never did. Like clockwork, she was there every time. Ben did not particularly care for her. She was just a receptacle for his sperm at the time they were dealing with each other. She was a constant reminder of his lowest point. He knew Brenda had developed feelings for him because of the baby, but he could not muster up enough care to reciprocate them. Sometimes Brenda would bring the kid along with her so he and Ben could bond. He felt that she used the baby as a link for their relationship and nothing more. He was not sure if she even loved the boy as she should. Brenda reminded him so much of his mother and grandmother, who either was not attentive or abandoned him altogether. Their son, Junior, was a point of contention between the two. Brenda officially named the baby Benjamin after him to make sure that Ben knew paternity belonged to him on his birth certificate. She never showed the rest of the family the document to avoid questions. Junior looked like him, so he did not protest. During her visits, Brenda would attempt to bond with Ben by holding his hand and occasionally volunteering to smuggle small items in such as money cigarettes, snacks, and other contraband. She knew this was a way to stay on his good side. She would tell him she thought about him all the time and that she would never give up on him. Ben eventually wised up and had Brenda be the pigeon for him to send messages to some of his friends from the outside, mostly those who were still affiliated with the drug and the Mafia game. Those friends would never set foot to see him in fear that people they knew were in there with Ben. The money she snuck him periodically helped him as his job at the prison making license plates only paid pennies an hour.

Bunny never left his mind while he sat in prison. He would write her letters in the hopes that he could convince her in words to come and see him. He learned about her and John's marriage in the media. This broke Ben's heart, but he understood that she had to move on. He just wished that it was with someone other than his nemesis. He addressed the letters to her maiden name, Celia Jones. He hated that John had given her the nickname Bunny. Ben wanted to show her his improved state. He sent the letters out, but they never came back. Ben was not sure of the outcome of those letters, but the fact that they never returned kept him encouraged, kept him working out with the prison weights. There were times during visiting hours he hoped that Celia would pay him a visit, but that never happened. Instead, each time it was Brenda, a cloud loomed over his day as well as a heavy dose of reality. Ben felt that he would be out of the prison walls soon enough, and he would see Celia again under better circumstances. He felt that he needed to patch things up with her, even if it did not end in something more than a friendship.

Conversations in the prison between inmates were about the state of affairs outside the walls. Mafia members still kept business in order from behind bars. They had visitors who would come in and update them on the current activities. The members would then give them instructions on how to carry out hits or threats and business transactions. Ben was welcomed into these groups as they knew that he was one of them and had the same thought process. Rivalries were put aside as those who were locked up were so, not because of other families, but because of the law. The hatred for police and the FBI, for their threat to dismantle the Cosa Nostra, and years of the system that supported their lifestyle, united them.

***

The war on organized crime was heating up. New York prosecutors declared war on the Mafia and referred to them as low-grade criminals. There had been previous attempts by the FBI to prosecute those who had participated in the Mafia. Their efforts were not extremely successful due to the code of silence. Their next move was to dismantle the board of directors guiding all of New York's Mafia families. These were the main bosses of each of the five families and beyond. They were the ones who assigned the hits in drug trafficking, racketeering, contract murder, and loan sharking. Although there were successful prosecutions of lower grade street mobsters, none of the bosses were ever convicted. The prosecutor's office in New York City wanted to change that. On the forefront of this war against the Mafia was one particular high-ranking attorney. In walked Mario Pasquale, the determined, remarkably self-righteous, inflexible federal prosecutor with his entourage. He had a smile full of fake teeth that some would consider ghastly. His stance was dogmatic. Mario has no sense of humor, and there was not an ounce of modesty in him. He was unlovable and had no awareness of his own imperfections. He had been described by some as a classic Type A personality. He rose to fame through hard work and kissing the right conservative ass despite initially being a registered Democrat. In his early years, Mario admired the robustness of Robert Kennedy and modeled his ruthlessness after him. He admired the way Robert Kennedy was able to achieve results from his toughness. Mario would tell friends that he would one day run for office in New York. He hated how things were being run by the current administration.

Pasquale's hard work and determination caught the attention of the White House and initially earned him a spot as associate attorney general. His relationship with them prompted him to change political parties, and later on he became one of the well-known conservative politicians in the city. Ronald Reagan felt that prosecutors like Mario played a significant role in the crime-fighting priorities for the administration. He, later on, took the position as the United States Attorney for the Southern District of New York to a four-year term as federal prosecutor.

Mario was a native of Brooklyn and grew up in a traditional Catholic-Italian family as an only child. His parents doted on him and wanted the best for his future. Mario wanted to be a baseball player when he grew up but an arm injury in high school derailed his plans. His father ran a store and his mother was a secretary. They despised the mob and worried about their influence on the neighborhood children. They did not want Mario to be one of them. The mob scene was glamorized by the press and the guys who participated in it. The flashy cars, the suits, the cigars, and the women were appealing to those on the outside. Mario's parents felt that the Mafia gave Italians a bad name and threw vitriol against those who actively participated in it. They could not go anywhere without a random stranger thinking he or his family had associations with the commission. People were bigoted toward them because of it.

Mario had the outward appearance of someone who would be in the Cosa Nostra. He was five foot six with average looks, and just a few gray strands in his otherwise full head of thick, parted, and gelled down dark hair that sat his head with no movement. There had been speculation at times whether he wore a rug on his head because no matter how hard the wind blew, his hair didn't move. His current wife insisted that it was real despite the debates among the press, the public, and his colleagues. The pinstripe suits and his demeanor were impeccable when it counted as he had the need to impress every minute of the day. He has a keen intellect and good street smarts, which added to his appeal. Internally, he saw his equals as competition and the lesser as dirt. He had the ability to share the spotlight, but he would never be upstaged. If one attempted to outdo him, Mario would go for the throat, not physically or publically, but behind the scenes.

Mario wanted to be known as the lawyer who took down the bad guy and began his career prosecuting those who participated in white collar crimes and suppliers of drugs. He did not go after ordinary street thugs; he went after those who enabled them. His first major publically covered case in New York City and nationally was when he ran the anti-corruption unit. That case uncovered police officers who were seizing heroin and other drugs from busts in Harlem and the Bronx and reselling them on the street for profit. He occasionally represented prominent Wall Street businessmen who were under investigation but only did so if he felt that they were good people on the inside who simply made mistakes. Those particular people in his mind had something substantial to lose, something that is legitimate. Pasquale did not openly endorse suspicious people, behavior, or those who he perceived as low class. He wanted to protect the working class little guy from what he called low-life criminals. People like Ben were those kinds of criminals.

Mario Pasquale was the prosecutor who actively sought out Ben's case and garnered a conviction. He had no evidence of homicide against Ben, but there were plenty of proof of drug trafficking against him, which made it easy to convict. Pasquale did not wait for cases to be assigned to him. He courted the cases that were high profile, including Ben's case. He had been accused of being neglectful of cases that were not considered high profile by other prosecutors. If Mario won those cases, it would boost his credibility among the voting public in the city. His conviction rate was over ninety-five percent, higher than many veteran prosecutors at the time. This was partly due to his propensity in the courtroom and a pioneering mind for law. Pasquale made judges look upright at a time where many of their reputations were questionable due to some taking bribes from those who were in organized crime. To help clean up the streets of New York City, Pasquale used his connections within the Reagan Administration to boost funds and add agents for anti-drug enforcement, relieving some of the duties of the Drug Enforcement Agency. Some of the funds went back to the police in the city that was in peril from cuts that were made a few years before. He used that power to rid the Lower East Side streets of small-time drug dealers. He went after everyone, even the five dollar crack dealers. He also used many of those additions to help him bust big time criminals and used those same people to help him bring down the mob.

In 1970, the creation of the Racketeer Influenced Corrupt Organization laws, better known as RICO, helped prosecutors in going after the leaders and the wealth of a crime enterprise, rather than settling for low-level street individuals. This was created to target those who were associated with the Mafia, especially the heads of the major organizations. The Omerta made it difficult for the Federal Bureau of Investigations to go after those who were running criminal enterprises such as drug trafficking, racketeering, loan sharking, and contract murder. Although Chimera was not a part of the five family commissions, their contribution into corruption was just the same and landed them on the radar. The FBI knew of their existence.

The passage of the laws did not garner immediate results. It took nearly a decade for real progress to begin in New York as well as the other big metropolitan cities that had rampant organized crime. During this ten-year time, bosses and associates shifted. Chimera, in its original setup, changed leadership and ownership twice. John sensed the change in political atmosphere years ago and used his budding, reemerging, relationship with Bunny follow her to Jamaica. This was to build a family and empire with her and to avoid trouble with law enforcement. Not only was Bunny valuable as a wife but as a source of income, and if something were ever to go down, she would not have to testify against him in court.

Pasquale hatched a plan to go after criminal organizations and take them down for good. His promotion to federal prosecutor boosted his authority and allowed Pasquale's law associates to take on those cases. He used his new power to shape a plan to take down all of the families at once, but he had to prove that a board of directors existed beyond a reasonable doubt. If he and his office were successful, they could get convictions and break down the Omerta within the ranks. "Scare the shit out of them" was his motto. He was determined for the entire culture of the Mafia to lose their power and disappear. Pasquale began putting in long days at the office to bring the case against the commission to the forefront. Long hours were part of the key to his success as his father had worked long hours. Those long hours took away from his home life much like his father's, but it had a positive impact on him. He and his associates would work twelve to sixteen hours a day piecing together the puzzle of the Mafia. He used information from Senate hearings that happened a decade earlier to first identify individuals. They were named ''The commission of La Cosa Nostra." Two of the individuals named were Bernie Banks Rhodos and John LeBlanc.

Soon after assuming his position in office, Pasquale realized that being friendly with the local New York media had its advantages. If something broke significant news, word would quickly spread all over the country. Most prosecutors would avoid the press. Mario sought them. "Press accessibility" was his motto. When he won a case, he made sure that the press knew and reported on it in thirty-second sound bites. He put one hundred and fifty or so of his law office attorneys on the cases, almost eighty percent of them on the La Cosa Nostra investigations alone. These associates were much younger and were at the top of their classes in law school. He thought that it was a great way for them to earn experience in the toughest of cases. Pasquale was their teacher, and he pressed for more indictments. The more they gained, the better he looked. When the developments seemed slow at times, Pasquale came off as a ruthless control freak by imposing terror on his associates. He wanted results all of the time. The more that came from the research of the cases, the better and more polished the entire group looked.

Pasquale spent his extra time being a weekly staple on the evening news and in the New York Post. He also used this camera time to put the word out that he was taking down the mob. This was considered a daring move and made him appear to be a big threat to the status quo. He wanted to send a message that he was not afraid of the mob and that they were not untouchable. The law of the land would prevail, not criminal activity that destroys communities. This made Pasquale a target for assassination attempts but made him popular among everyday citizens in the city. This popularity prompted him to boost his security detail. He was never allowed to travel alone. Every drug kingpin had a hit out on him. The admiration he enjoyed was limited to the middle and upper classes. People in the neighborhoods who were drug ridden didn't care for him. They felt he was all talk.

When Pasquale did travel for his daily duties, his top assistant, Rebecca Paulin, was with him. She was smart and politically savvy. Rebecca was Pasquale's spirit equal with a vagina. She wore the same types of suits he wore except she donned the skirt version. Despite having a young son at home, she rarely left Pasquale's side unless he was walking into his marital home where he had a family of his own. There had been times when she brought her son along with her to work and spend time around the office with her and Pasquale. He and her son had a great relationship as he had bought him many gifts. Mario even set up a scholarship fund for him with the hopes that the boy would want to be a lawyer someday.

Rebecca was his public relations person and personal assistant. Whenever a negative story about Mario was about to be published, she convinced reporters into killing the story. She set the rules for every news conference that Mario participated in. She kept Mario's political and media enemies on his radar. She also allowed major national news organizations to tape him doing mundane everyday things. This was to show the public that Mario was just like the average everyday guy and to have an appealing archive of footage to use just in case he wanted to run for higher office in the future. Mario was often shocked, but pleased, at her willingness to follow him around. It showed him that she was not afraid of the death threats that were sent every day to his office and to the people who worked there.

The two of them spent a lot of time traveling everywhere in the city when he was not at home or working on his cases. He was slowly building his profile to run for office. Mario would often rant to Rebecca about the state of the city. His favorite topic was the mayoral race of 1977.

"We had four ding dongs running. Let's see. We had this jackass, Beame. I can't stand that guy. He was the worst thing that ever happened to this city. People didn't give a shit about that guy. Do you remember when someone threw a pie at him during a debate? Rebecca, I laughed because he deserved it. Give the guy who did it a medal. Then we had the state's puppet, Cuomo. Then we had gay Koch, for god's sake, and then we had that floppy hat toilet-mouthed woman, Abzug. No wonder this city turned into a toilet. I understand Ford. I wouldn't have given money to this place either. Everyone involved in the deterioration of this town needs to be ashamed of themselves. New York City is now a shell of what it used to be. Everyone outside of Manhattan now looks like bums, as far as I am concerned. We used to be a classy city. People wanted to live here. We need new and better leadership. I'm gonna finish these cases, then I just may run. I can't stand it anymore," Mario said.

"Koch was decent at one point. Plus, we don't know if Koch is gay. It's speculation," Rebecca told him.

"Okay, so he's gay adjacent. He's supporting all of them. They are all over the place now. He won't close those clubs they got going down there. Rebecca, I'm trying to make a point here," he said.

Mario did not care who he offended and had no problems telling someone off if they challenged him on his views. He was the political Archie Bunker.

When Mario and Rebecca were not discussing politics, they would deliberate on the cases they were working on. Rebecca would often make suggestions to Pasquale about how he should approach certain cases. She, like Mario, was big on getting indictments. She pulled out all of the stops to get as many as possible. Rebecca suggested that he, and not his associates, consider talking to an inmate at Rikers Island because of his direct connection to one of the mob families he was investigating. She felt he would have the most information they could use. Pasquale initially rejected the proposal.

"I do not negotiate with criminals," he said.

"We need an informant, and why not go to the source? He's in Rikers right now."

"What do I look like talking to a guy in a shithole like Rikers? He's there for a reason. The press would eat me alive," he interjected.

"This is a person who you put away. He may be a big help. Look at this," Rebecca said as she pulled out a manila folder with information about the inmate from her briefcase. The folder was two inches thick with arrest records and other photos and gathered information about him.

"Look who he is associated with. Bernie Rhodos. Rhodos died a few years ago, but one of his other associates took over. His name is John LeBlanc." Rebecca pulled out another folder that contained information about John.

"This guy worked with both of them. John and Bernie. Since we are building racketeering, tax evasion, and money laundering cases against John, this man can help us tremendously. There were other people, but we are still gathering information about them. If we can get one or two, the rest of the dominoes will fall. This man may know about the other families and tell us things we need to know to get convictions. We can wire him like we did the other guy in the Ambrosino case," she said.

"How can we get him to talk? Why would he talk now?" Pasquale asked.

"Word on the street is that LeBlanc wants to start building toward running for political office somewhere."

"Him? Run for office. Is this a joke? Not here?" Mario asked.

"I don't know. He's going the charity route. They are having a fundraiser here soon and supposedly they called a bunch of corporate sponsors they know. They want to raise money for the kids in poor areas or something," Rebecca said.

"Those kids don't need handouts. They need a swift kick in the butt. We don't need to give them money. We have benefits. If this were a job fair, then I would get it."

"That is why I am suggesting that you go speak to this guy at Rikers, but he has a rep for not trusting people. He knows who you are. He probably hates you right now, but if you tell him that we can help him get out of his current situation, and you are the only person who can do it, he may spill the information we need."

"Turn him into a rat. Rats begin to eat themselves to survive if the conditions allow it." I like the way you are thinking. So, are we giving this hard timer immunity?" Pasquale replied as he shook his head in agreement.

"Yes. We have to make this appealing. LeBlanc is currently out of the states. We need enough evidence to get him extradited back here to face charges. But with our inmate here, I will make sure that this meeting is private and won't get out to the press, ever. If it does leak for some reason, we can spin it as a rehabilitation project. If he cooperates, we can use this to our advantage. It will take the target off of you," Rebecca said.

"Nothing will take the target off of me. These guys are out for blood. I will get them first. Let me take a look at this."

Pasquale looked at some of the information in the folder. "He has a company named BunnyWine. What a name. I wonder what that is all about," he joked.

"It's a winery."

"I know. I was just making a joke," he responded.

"Oh, he may be business smart, but boy does this guy lack common sense. Why did he name his parent company New Chimera? He should have changed the name, at least. That's just like saying, hey, come and get me." Pasquale laughed. "He has businesses here. It doesn't appear that he has done anything with the Cosa Nostra in years, at least to our knowledge, but then again, every dollar he earned during those years came from illegal activity. I appreciate a good businessman, but I can't let this slide. If I let one go, then I would have to let them all go. I can't have that happen. He'll be a sacrificial lamb of sorts," he added with a deep sigh. "Question? What if this guy doesn't do what he supposed to do? Do we have a plan?"

"Yes, we do. We will have him handled. If he goes back in, he will be labeled a rat, and the inmates will take care of him. That's if we don't do something to neutralize the situation first," she said.

'Okay, this inmate, what is his name?"

Rebecca nodded. "That inmate is Benjamin Berardi."

***

Rebecca set up the ultra-private meeting between Ben and Pasquale. She arranged for them to meet in an area that was off-limits to prisoners. Ben was awakened from his nap and removed from his cell. The officers would not tell him why he was being moved. Internally, he became nervous as they cuffed and surrounded him with armed guards. For cautionary purposes, prison officials first covered his eyes and then his head with a black hood to obstruct Ben's view. The other inmates saw this and were not sure what to think of it. Some of them took bets on whether he was going to return or if they were going to do something sinister to him. A few of the guards at the prison had a reputation for being abusive to the prisoners without having to face any consequences for their actions. Many inmates have been beaten up and slammed to the ground in front of everyone else. It did not take much to set off some of the officers. This was their way of showing the prisoners who ran things.

Officials assigned four offers to walk Ben to the area. They could not risk Ben keeping tabs on the rooms and passageways that prisoners did not get to see. They did not want a possible escape or attack plan taking place. Once Ben arrived in the room, they sat him down and cuffed his left wrist to the table, which was cemented to the floor. The room was gray and cold. The walls were cement bricks and had a faint stench of mildew. The room had a double-sided mirror. It was similar to the interrogation rooms he had been in before. There was nothing else in the room besides the table, an empty chair, and a sign that said, "No One is Allowed in this Office." He knew that somebody brought him there to get him to talk or to do something more. He just didn't know what.

After a few minutes of silence, Pasquale walked in. Ben recognized him immediately. This was the same guy who put him away. Ben knew nothing good would come from this, and he didn't like this guy. Every time Ben would see him on television, cheesing for the cameras and boasting on another person he put away, he got mad and so did the other inmates he convicted. Each time a sea of balled up paper and magazines would go flying at the television the moment Pasquale's face appeared. When Pasquale had articles in the newspaper, several inmates used his photo as toilet paper. Pasquale's name was shit to every prisoner in there, especially those who were affiliated with organized crime.

Pasquale got what he wanted, so why was he back what did he want? Ben thought. Pasquale sat down in the empty chair and introduced himself.

"Hello. You are Benjamin Berardi. I'm Mario Pasquale. United States Attorney."

"I know you," Ben answered.

"You are probably wondering why I am here, aren't you?"

"Not really," Ben answered. Ben was lying, but he didn't want Pasquale to see him flinch.

"To your surprise, it's nothing terrible. I'm here with an offer."

"Whatever you are offering, I don't want it," Ben said, shaking his head.

"I knew this was going to be a tough sale." Pasquale paused and took a deep breath. He looked at Ben. "You appear to be a smart and good looking Italian guy. You're articulate and seem to have an understanding of yourself it seems, but what you do is obviously stupid. You ruined your life. Most people would look at a fellow like you and ask themselves, 'why isn't he smart enough to stop what he is doing?' You are at an age where you should have your life together. Average Joe would think he could have a good job, a wife, have your own business. You have a kid who you are failing every second you are in the hole."

Ben was confused. How did he know about his son? he thought. He answered Pasquale. "It was not about being smart, it was a matter of being in a situation where if I stopped, I was going to become very sick and very broke, and I couldn't afford to be either."

Pasquale laughed. "Aren't you sick and broke now? We are in prison, can't get any sicker and broker than this. Look around at your neighbors. You are rich in cigarettes."

"I'm sick in that I am... I mean, I used to be married to heroin. I only used it to cope. Coming here and stopping suddenly was very strange to me, but I am over it now, and I am better. I don't need it anymore. You know, before I got here, you couldn't guess that I was even addicted."

"Oh, I saw your file and your last mugshot. I beg to differ. If you think that a skeleton with god- awful tattoos, running around in a gang jacket is normal then... Before you may have been able to pull this off frightening well in front of some people, how, I don't know, but you were a thief and a drug peddling street thug, and you need to accept that. You lived a life that was garbage. You were a monster on the street. Your people carried out a lot of hits and hurt a lot of people."

"I was never a street thug," Ben interjected.

"Mafias, street thugs, druggies are all criminals, all the same in my book," Pasquale replied.

"So why are you here? Why are you in here with a street thug? Why are you sitting...what do you want from me?" Ben asked.

"I am here because you have an opportunity to turn all of this around. You have a chance to be the hero for once in your pathetic life. If you are a changed man as you say, then help us bring down the bad guys who haven't or won't change. You give us the information that we need, be our eyes and ears, and we will help you get back on your feet, find a job for you, get you an apartment, and a life coach to watch you."

"A life coach? I'm in my fucking forties. I don't need a life coach. Isn't working with me going against everything you said on TV you hate?" Ben replied.

"Not quite. You will be the ultimate success story. The public likes redemption. A three-time jailed offender finally turns his life around and gets clean. He becomes a respectable member of society," Pasquale said.

"And you helped me. You forgot to mention that. This is all to make you look good, isn't it? What are you doing, running for office or something? Why should I sell out for you?" Ben asked.

Pasquale's tone took an insulted turn. "You have nothing left to lose. What are your other options?" Pasquale asked sarcastically. He could not believe that a criminal behind bars was taking him to task about his intentions. He knew that Ben had a point and was worried that he saw through him, which was something that Pasquale could not afford to let happen.

"But I saw on TV..."

"I don't interrupt you. You don't interrupt me! I'm talking here!" Pasquale interjected. "I'm the reason why you are in here. If you ever see the light of day, ever again, I will be that reason! And if I let you out, you are getting a fucking life coach. If you relapse, we would know it immediately because the first thing that will go is your judgment. That is why we will keep an eye on you, whether you like it or not. Whatever you do, we will know. Your every move, we will know. If you take a shit, we will know. We own you. If not, you stay in here and rot with your friends."

Ben sat silent and did not respond. Pasquale stood up from the chair and nodded for the guards to let him out of the room.

Before he walked out, he said to Ben, "Think about it. If you want to get out of here, we will come and get you. If you don't, then have a nice life. Your other Mafia friends will be joining you very soon."

Ben was returned to his cell. Pasquale left the room. The guards recovered Ben's eyes and head, cuffed him, and walked him back to his cell. He couldn't see anything on the way back, but the closer he got to his cell, he could hear applause and some inmates telling others that they'd won the bet. Ben came back alive. His cellmate, Eddie, pressed him on what happened. Ben thought about it for a moment and made up a story. He wasn't sure how he was going to play this out, so he stayed quiet about the real details. Ben sat on his bed for a couple of hours to think about his next move. He already knew he was going to take the deal. He was ready to leave the hellhole that is called prison for the last time.

***

Eddie had been sentenced to twenty years for drug possession. He was also mentally ill but was not treated properly. It didn't take much to trigger him and to go under. That was the term inmates used when one of them had gone mad. Eddie was fragile and sheepish, and had a difficult time making rational decisions. He was constantly tired and his eyes were remote. One day he would be normal, the next day he would be erratic and unstable. Eddie's unpredictable behavior was creating a lot of paperwork for officials. One incident during their time in the cafeteria, he accidentally bumped into one of the other inmates. The other prisoner, who belonged to a gang, began to push him. Others saw the commotion and jumped in and began kicking and punching him. They were friends of the gang member. The numbers against him continued to rise until about ten men were beating him up. The beating was unrelenting until corrections officers intervened.

Eddie was too afraid to attack his abusers. He was an easy target to pick on because of his size and demeanor, so he would occasionally take his frustration out on Ben while they shared the cell and sometimes the officers. Ben would restrain him but not to a point where it hurt him. Ben knew Eddie's unstable situation and felt sorry for him. Some of their time in the cell was spent playing cards, watching the black and white TV in the cell, and having deep conversations whenever Eddie had his lucid moments. Ben trusted him. Eddie did not have any other friends in the prison besides Ben. In one of those conversations, Ben confided to him that he may have accidentally killed his friend, Jerome. It was the only time he ever admitted to the crime out loud. Ben was not worried about the spontaneous confession. It felt good to finally let that information out. He felt that confessing was part of reclaiming his life, and he stated this to Eddie. Ben figured that Eddie would forget it in five minutes, just like everything else that is told to him.

At other times, to get the guards attention, Eddie would pretend to strangle himself. He had done it a few times while sharing the cell with Ben. This made Ben uncomfortable because he did not want to wake up and find a dead person next to him—again. To calm Eddie down, the guards would pepper spray or Taser him. Then they would put him in solitary confinement or an individual housing unit for disciplinary measures. He was placed on suicide watch many times. He was there for much of his sentence. Eddie had no fewer than four officers watching him at any one time. They put him in a straitjacket to keep him from harming himself. The warden instructed the guards not to enter his cell as long as he was breathing. He usually stayed there until he was able to sort his situation out himself. Eddie would often snap out of his erratic behavior. When enough time passed, when he did not have an incident, he was let back into the general population.

Eddie had another incident. He was throwing things in the cell the night after Ben had his meeting. Eddie attempted to pick up his cot and toss it to Ben's side of the cell. He felt that Ben was not completely honest with him about what was going on. Eddie was paranoid that Ben and the officers were up to something. Guards dragged Eddie out and put him back in solitary. After about an hour of fighting officers in his cell, he waited until he thought they were gone. The guards on the outside watched what he was doing through the window. He put the elastic band around his neck that came from his pants to see if it fit. He took it off and adjusted it. One of the guards yelled through the door, "What are you doing with that?"

Eddie replied, "I'm only wearing it for a little while, leave me alone. I'm reclaiming my life." It was the line Ben used with him during their conversations.

Eddie put the band around his neck again and tightened it. He went over to the floor and laid face down. The guards outside the door continued to look through the door window at his activity and chatted amongst themselves. They made jokes about Eddie's appearance and behavior. One of the guards noted to another that it looked like he was still breathing, but his face was turning purple. Another guard walked up and looked at what was happening through the window. He yelled through the door, "You okay in there?" Eddie did not answer. He moved a little bit.

"You need to remove that. You've had it on too long. Get up so we can cut that off," the guard said.

Eddie did not respond or move. The guards went in, saw him on the floor, and went back out. They returned later. They went in and saw him in the same spot and left again. He laid there for another thirty minutes until someone, who appeared to be a medical doctor, went in to check on his condition. When they rolled him over, they found that he was not breathing.

Eddie had choked to death.

Another corrections officer walked by the cell Ben and Eddie shared. He informed Ben that he would be getting a new bunkmate.

"What happened to Ed? Ben asked.

"The dumbass choked to death," the officer replied.

Ben felt sick to his stomach. The tone from the officer told him that Eddie was not important and, frankly, neither was anyone else in the prison.

Ben wanted to leave right away. He asked the guard if he could speak to his supervisor about the meeting he had the other day.

***

Pasquale returned to the prison the next day under heavy security. The same procedure from the last visit took place. Ben was ready to get the ball rolling. Eddie's suicide helped him make up his mind.

"Are you ready to talk?" Pasquale asked.

"I am," Ben answered.

"Okay, that great. We are going to record this. This is part of your deposition. Do you understand that?"

"Yes."

"Okay, can you tell me about some of the activities of Chimera? What did you guys do on a daily basis? What were your everyday operations like?" Pasquale asked.

"Well, Bernie stayed in the office to keep an eye out on things, and we were sent to get clients for the company and do other errands for him. We went all over the city."

"Errands... such as?"

"Well, they killed people. If someone crossed them the wrong way, that's what happened. If someone stole from us, that's what happened. I was there to help, but I didn't actually do any of the stuff that made the people stop breathing. John and Jerome were the go-to guys for hits. I can beat people up pretty well, so I did that a lot," Ben said.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Bernie had friends who helped us. They were the Weathermen. They gave us these Molotov cocktails and other stuff because they were good at building those. They were a good source of ammunition, too. Bernie's girlfriend, Gina or Red or whatever, was our link. She was good at that stuff, so he would give them money in exchange for them providing help for us if we needed it. One time they built a bomb for us that were supposed to be dropped off at a home. This was a hit for Bernie. John was supposed to carry it, out but he was too lazy. I guess and found some guy at a restaurant to do it. That was Jerome. He was brought in the group after that. Before it was just Bernie, John, and me at Chimera. That bomb killed some woman. It didn't even get the guy it was supposed to get. Jerome was kind of pissed off about that, so that's why John gave him the job," Ben said.

"Okay, that's good to know. Anything else?" Pasquale asked.

"Well, there was this one kid named Sammy. He was Ambrosino's kid. Bernie had us take care of him because he broke into the offices and robbed it. His father told him and his friends to do it. He stole money and Bernie's gold jewelry that he had locked up in the drawer, some frames, and the gold mini statues that he had on his desk. A lot of the frames and small things he had in his office were antiques. Many were gold-plated with silver and some were thick solid gold. Photos of his mother and father were in those frames. Those were family heirlooms of his. Bernie never got that stuff back. Ambrosino burned those statues for the gold, and I guess he threw away the photos. Those things used to belong to his father. They could have gone after other things in the office, but Bernie felt that this was personal. He was really pissed about that, and he just basically told us to do whatever we wanted to him, and to make sure he did not come back, so that's what we did," Ben said.

"So Bernie did not say precisely to kill him? It was something that you guys just did?"

"Yeah. I beat him up. John tied him up and shut the hood. Jerome put money in his mouth and some in his asshole. I didn't see the point in that, but he thought it was funny. After he had been put on, Jerome did most of the dirty work when it was time to whack someone. I was responsible for that money. Bernie didn't appreciate that we used the money since the kid already taken so much from him. Then Jerome put the bag over his head, and I guess that made him stop breathing. Jerome was making his bones," Ben said.

"Making his bones? What is that?" Pasquale asked.

"That's what most of us do to get in and move up the ranks. It's killing on demand. You only make it if you can do that or you bring in money. No one is made without doing one or the other unless you are related to them or something."

"So where is Jerome now?"

"He's dead," Ben responded.

"Dead? How did that happen?"

Ben paused. He closed his eyes and instantly flashed back to the sight of Jerome lying dead in a pool of blood to stop the fight between the two. Jerome's death was the demon Ben had been fighting ever since he went to jail. The guilt from it was bigger than the addiction to drugs that had ruled his life. Ben did not want to risk his opportunity for freedom by admitting that he participated in Jerome's death, so he made up an answer. He didn't see the need to confess after all this time. The only person he ever told is now dead.

"I don't know how that happened. He dropped off his things at my place, and he went to the store. That was the last time I heard from him. They found him in one of the yards. The investigators ruled it a suicide. I heard it was a robbery. I believe that's what actually happened. He had no reason to end his life. He just got married and had a kid," Ben said in a somber tone.

"Wait, so Bernie Banks and Jerome Dexter Sr. are deceased?"

"Yep."

"What about Bernie's girlfriend? Red, you said her name was?"

"Dead."

Pasquale was dumbfounded. "You have got to be kidding me. Everybody is dead." He took a deep breath.

"Not John and Celia," Ben added.

"And Celia is.... who is that?"

"She worked with us with the accounting. Bernie assigned her to work with me. She was a waitress at the Playboy Club in Midtown when I first met her. Jerome and John brought her in. She was Jerome's cousin or something. I don't know the exact circumstances of why she even got the job. John told us she did something for him. We were together for a bit, but John was a jerk about it because he dated her first. He calls her this stupid name... Bunny. She dumped him because she found out he was still married. Then she went with me," Ben said.

"Bunny LeBlanc. Now I know who you are talking about. They got married then," Pasquale said.

"I guess," Ben said.

"Okay, how did you guys get the funds to run everything? Where did the money go?"

"We did what the others did. We had our investment company. We went out and got people to capitalize with us. They were to leave their money in, and we told them that if they put in a little each month that it would grow with some interest. When it was time for payment, we used the money from new clients to pay them. When we could not cover the costs, we used the money we got from protection deals. I had to beat up some newspaper guys to help carry the Post. Some of them wouldn't do it. They hired us. We were cool with the unions. We opened safes all over for a cut of the profits. I stole a truck once with some money in it. Bernie wasn't happy about it, but we kept all of that. He thought that if I were caught, I would bring unwanted attention to us. I didn't hurt that guy driving. I just yanked him out, threw him to the ground, and left. We helped some politicians win, too. We had to shake some people up to do it but he won," Ben said.

"That was an earful. What happened to the money after Bernie died and you guys disbanded?" Pasquale asked.

"John kept it all, I guess. Who else was there? I left and moved to the Bronx and had my own thing going. You already know about that. All of those millions? He. Kept. It. All," Ben said confidently with a slight grin. He got satisfaction in knowing he could finally get something over John.

Okay, so all we have is LeBlanc and this Bunny person, his wife, and they are running everything with this money?"

"It's Celia. I guess he is running everything with the money if that is what you are telling me," Ben answered.

"No, I am asking you."

"I don't know. It's a guess," Ben answered.

"We can't have guesses here."

"One more thing, I'm curious here. Why weren't you promoted to the underboss? He put a colored guy ahead of you. Did you not kill anyone or make any money for them? I mean, that would bother me for sure. You being the natural Italian in the group and all, you were okay with this? Be honest," Pasquale said.

Ben took a deep breath. He knew this was the primary source of frustration about his whole existence with John. John had everything Ben ever wanted, and there was nothing he could do about it. When assigned a boss in an organization, he was the guy you had to work under. No questions, no challenges.

"Honestly, yeah, I hated his fucking guts. I was being punished for not knocking people off left and right. The two black guys were better at it. I went to Nam and didn't kill anybody, and they punished me for it. It's the same way in the mob. The mob and the government aren't that different, I guess," Ben answered.

Pasquale and the investigator stopped the tape. Pasquale took a deep breath. "Okay, I'm going to explain to you what's going on. We chose you because of your wealth of information. That will help us. You know many of the pieces of this complex Mafia puzzle. We need you to gather current information on John LeBlanc. We feel that we have a case against him. If not for the Mafia business, then we have enough to charge him with money laundering. We need to see what his wife knows. We need you to go to work for him. You will have the easiest way to get on the inside."

"Wait a minute. No. No way. I am not working for him. I will do a lot of things. That isn't one of them."

"What's the goddamn problem now? We're offering you an out. We'll drop the drug charges against you. You've already finished your weapons term."

"I don't like him; he doesn't like me, simple as that. We worked together, but we weren't cool like that. I can tell you everything else I already know," Ben responded.

"What the hell is it that this guy has over you? You told me about rank. What is it? A woman?" Pasquale pushed.

Ben paused.

"A woman. So that's what it is, John took your lady. Was it this Bunny woman?"

Ben was ashamed to admit that Bunny was a big part of the equation. He stayed quiet.

"Look, she's a nice looking lady, but seriously, there are broads everywhere..."

Pasquale paused for a second.

"You already told us that this man is using funds acquired through illegal activities to run his company. We need a slam dunk to make this case stick. What we have right now is not reliable enough. If there are issues between the two of you, suck it up and get the job done," Pasquale responded.

"What if he doesn't hire me? What if that plan doesn't work? Are you going to throw me back into the hole? You got a whole lot out of me already," Ben asked.

"We have confidence in you. Remember your statements to your lawyers when we first booked you? You're a real actor. I knew you were bullshitting. You don't believe in God. You don't have a good bone in your damn body. What I do know is that you are quite intelligent. You should have had a thousand years in prison for the number of drugs we found on you. If you can fake crazy, you can fake a truce, and that's what you'll do," Pasquale told him.

Ben stared at him. "Fine. When do I start?" he asked.

"That's more like it. We will start the paperwork, and you will be out of here within three days. I need to tell you that the key to all of this working is for you to keep your fucking trap shut. Do you understand me? You blow this up, I'll kill you myself."

"All right then. I won't say anything," Ben answered.

"We will arrange for your pickup and assign you an apartment where you will wait for further instruction from your designated life coach. Congratulations on your new start. Follow directions, and you'll be just fine. Go home and see your kid." Pasquale stood up and shook Ben's hand.

Forty-eight hours later, the guards woke Ben out of his sleep and told him to get up and go. He was being released. The other inmates heard the guard and looked over to see what was happening. One of them was leaving the hole. While he was walking out with the guards, several of the inmates threw paper at him, most of it was folded up with them asking, "Hey, can you hand this over to my girl? Her address is on it." Ben did not stop and pick any of it up. He walked with the corrections officers behind him into processing with his photos and writing pad, leaving everything else he had accumulated during the time of his stay, even his clothing. He didn't want to take any of it to his new life. They handed him a large envelope with paperwork and notes on it, a bag with some of his old belongings, and walked him out the door. One of the guards said to Ben as he was walking away, "Good luck with that," and shook his head. The guard looked at the other guard and said, "He'll be back or dead." They both laughed. No fanfare, no celebration, just Ben and a yellow cab with graffiti on it ready to drop him off at an unknown destination. Ben dropped his brown paper bag, opened up his arms wide, and took a deep breath of fresh air. He said with no one to hear but him and the cab driver. "I'm out, motherfuckers!" The cab driver, unamused with Ben's shenanigans, blew his horn.

Ben arrived at his new apartment in upper Manhattan. It was located in Harlem on East Ninety-Ninth Street, Building One Fifty-Seven on the third floor. The cab driver told him to get out and then sped away. The multi-family unit was average and unassuming. It was far enough from the rundown chaos he'd left and yet still a distance from Midtown, away from his old life in the mob. The envelope he had contained a key to get in. He walked right into the one bedroom apartment where there was a couch, and activated phone, and a bed with a mattress—no sheets, no curtains, nothing else. A couple of hundred dollars in the envelope were attached with a note telling Ben to get what he needed. In the brown paper bag with his old belongings was a vest. It was not there when he entered prison. Someone must have added it in the bag. One of the notes in the envelope highly suggested that he wear it at all times. It was bulletproof. Ben knew at that moment this was the real deal, so he put it on under his jacket to see if it fit. He looked out the window to observe what was happening in the neighborhood and spotted a store. He decided to go on and pick up some necessities, but first he had to make a phone call.

Ben had no one to call except Brenda, so he did it reluctantly. He wanted to see if she could bring him some things he needed so he didn't have to spend all of his own money. He also wanted to see his son. Getting to know Junior outside the prison walls was important to Ben. He had missed every early milestone and felt that his was a time to catch up. He called her, and Brenda couldn't contain her excitement at the news that he was released. He told her he would let her know when it was safe for her and Junior to come over.

#  Chapter 3

Ben wasn't sure when his coach would arrive. He was told to wait for instructions. He had to mentally prepare himself for the task ahead. He was sent back to the hood to spy on his former associates. He never thought in his early days that he would one day turn into a rat. He knew that Bernie would have never approved of one of his guys betraying the code, but it was the price he had to pay for freedom. Ben could no longer walk around the streets free like he used to. Now he had to wear this vest on the orders of Pasquale and his administration, just in case his cover was blown or if a shootout occurred. He was their star witness against John and the others. He was not allowed to be armed. The setup made him uneasy, so he kept his knowledge of some of his links secret. It was not only for his protection, but he had lost contact with some of them while he was in the hole. He walked everywhere the entire day to see what had changed while he was gone.

Heroin used to rule the streets but that had now been replaced by cocaine rocks or ski. Cocaine was nicknamed ski because the white powdery substance reminded people of snow, and users would slice right through it in lines like a skier on a slope. It was a fancier way to freebase. To ski was known as something the rich people did, it was the casual drug that made you friendly with your dealer. A good quality kilo used to cost a hundred grand, and it was readily found in the hipper clubs such as Studio 54 in Manhattan, where wealthy and well-connected people attended. Cocaine became more widespread because the process of making it was streamlined and that simplification made it cheaper to produce and easier to distribute among the middle and poorer classes. It was more addictive when it was transformed into crack because of the extra additives each dealer put into the mix. The combination made the crack cocaine more potent and dangerous. It turned its users into zombies. The rocks were selling at fever pace and people were doing wild things to get their hands on it. The popular way of the hood to use it was to mix weed and crack and smoke it together. Others resulted in prostituting themselves and selling everything they own to get it. The spread of crack cocaine was all over the news media and newspapers as the new epidemic. After a while, many in the community who were once big on Heroin and survived now were hooked on crack cocaine. Crack created an entire community full of people trying to recreate that first hit. It was the same feeling that Ben chased while hooked on Heroin.

New York City was broke. Unemployment and crime were at a record high. The city laid off five thousand cops. The government's policies of tax breaks for the rich and cutbacks for the poor became more evident by the time the Reagan Administration took office. The only way to survive in some places was to sling crack to the neighborhoods and those who dared to venture into the hot areas get their high. Slinging cocaine proved to be lucrative for some. Whole families used it as their primary source of income outside of government help. Ben knew that this was caused by the adverse effects of the administration that he was working for, and he despised them for it. There were a lot of teenagers in the streets due to absentee parents. Most of them were Black and Latino. The economic conditions led to a lot of their mothers and fathers working multiple jobs to survive or left them strung out and depressed. They trimmed funding for school programs and cut back many teachers, which left shortages in the classroom. These kids had nowhere to go. Once many of them made it past the tenth grade, they dropped out and attempted to survive on their own.

Ben took a trip down to Times Square. He wanted to see an adult movie for some real sex. He was tired of looking at the nude drawings or photos from the girlfriends the inmates had. He was still terrified of the screams he heard when one of the inmates was attacked. When ONTV began, the inmates could only get the scrambled channel but many of them watched the colorful, streaky, jumbled up screen because you could still make out the activity of the adult films that were shown. The sound was mostly intact so they could hear the moans of the women who were in the act. Ben wanted something normal. He wanted to see some real breasts, and there was no other place to go to see it on a large scale. Giant movie theater screens showed porno films, and it had as many audiences in them as the Broadway shows. If you wanted to see a thirty-foot long penis or fifty foot zoomed in breasts and bushy vagina, this was the place to go.

Times Square had not changed much since he'd left. Anything goes there. It was considered to still be the Disneyland of sex. Hundreds of businesses that catered to the sex industry stood side by side to Broadway theaters. In the middle of all of the stimulation, remained the US Armed Forces recruiting booth. Ben walked by it and spit on the outside wall. He was disgusted at the site of it. It brought back too many bad memories of his service in Vietnam. Hookers were everywhere. There were a couple thousand between thirty and fiftieth streets, right along with their pimps at different times of the day. The hustlers and tourists intertwined and neither paid attention to each other. They shared the sidewalks like normal. Nothing about it seemed out of the ordinary. Ben spent a few hours in the area to get his rocks off while blowing through an entire pack of cigarettes. He visited one of the numerous massage parlors, Tahita, to get a blowjob. Once he was done, he felt relieved. He continued on his reunion tour of the city.

Ben ventured back to the thirty block zone where his new apartment was located. He returned to Harlem and the Bronx. The area still looked like the way it was before he went away, but there were more crowds outside. It was an open-air hypermarket for drugs. The selling was fast and furious. Guys were standing outside of cars every fifteen to twenty feet making transactions, and no one around seems fazed. The cops had stopped showing up as often as they used to. They didn't care because they had other things that were more important to tend to. The police union felt that the sitting mayor did not respect them enough. They put their hopes that someone would replace him soon that appreciated their services. This left the activities in the area mostly unchallenged.

Ben was surprised to find that he had become a legend in the old neighborhood. Each block he walked, there was someone there who recognized him but none of them would dare to step at him the wrong way. It was quite a change from when he left. When he was jailed, others in the Ghetto Brothers would tell stories about Ben and his past in the mob as well as him being a hustler on the street. He was referred to as White Boy Ben. His stint in jail made him a badass, and word of his release spread quickly throughout the area. He was not sure how the word got out so fast. It made him a legend in some of their eyes. He was the real-life Scarface to them. Scarface, the name he once did not want to be called by his Chimera colleagues, is now what made him a rockstar in the hood, thanks to the movie about the gangster that had just been released. One teen walked up to Ben. He wasn't sure about the kid's intentions. Ben thought he was about to get robbed not even twenty-four hours after leaving prison.

"Are you White Boy Ben?" the kid asked.

He was confused about the question. He had never been addressed that way before. "My name is Ben."

Ben was ready to fight. He did not have weapons, but he could still defend himself when he needed to.

"It is you! My man, you taught us how to hustle. You laid the blueprint here. You just don't know. Everybody 'round here trying to be like White Boy Ben," the kid said in admiration.

Surprised at the statement, Ben said, "Thanks."

The kid could not have been older than fifteen. He looked versed in the streets and was dressed in the latest Adidas tracksuit and sneakers.

"The law got you, though, but before that, you did your thing. You like the real Tony Montana, man. You were the OG white dealer. You didn't die, and you walked right out of prison. Got nothing but respect for that. My friend at Rikers told his homies this morning and then they came back and told us like hours ago. We were like 'oh shit! You here walking around already,'" the kid said and extended his hand to shake Ben's. Ben obliged.

"Everybody wanna be like you and Scarface. That movie was dope," the kid added.

Ben internally relished in this newfound respect. He had never experienced unsolicited admiration before, not even from his former associates. Ben felt that after all of the struggle throughout the years, he had finally made it. He had to kill and betray his own family to end up there, but he made it. The streets were his home. The unforgiving, mean, cold streets were where his heart was and finally the streets were returning the praise. Ben left the kid and continued to scan the neighborhood just to catch up in the area. Not long after the encounter with the teen, he was stopped by another man. He was the neighborhood dealer. He wanted to sell Ben a vile of crack. Ben looked at the dealer's hand with the vial.

"Aye snowman, I got some rocks. Make ya feel good."

"I don't want any," Ben responded.

"Just get one. It's only ten dollars. You got ten dollars on you, don't cha?"

"I'm clean," Ben said in a shaky voice. He looked around to see if anyone resembling a life coach was lurking anywhere although he wasn't sure what one looked like exactly.

"Just one man, one rock is not gonna get you hooked. Have you ever tried rocks before?" the dealer asked.

"No," Ben responded.

"Hold up. Haven't I seen you before?" the dealer asked him and stepped closer to Ben to look at his face. He was far into Ben's personal space by then.

"I don't think so," Ben answered while stepping back a little.

"I think I saw you a long time ago around here. Rude Boy, right? You were in the GBs too, is that right?

Ben didn't say anything. He shrugged. He knew that his association with the Ghetto Brothers made him a familiar name in the Bronx. When he was a Rude Boy at Chimera, Manhattan was his stage.

"Yeah, that's it! You grew your hair out, and you are little bigger than you used to be. Yeah, I know you, man! Hey, what's up, man! You a celebrity round here," the dealer told him while smiling. He was missing a few teeth, and they were the color of corn. "Well, this is your lucky day, snowman. Since you're a brand new customer, I'll give you half off. Five dollars. Just one-time man, and you don't have to do it anymore. If you are stressed, this will help you out. Go on, take one and I'll leave you alone," the dealer added.

"No thanks," Ben told him and walked away, continuing down the street. The dealer followed him. When Ben got to the corner, he turned around and looked. The dealer was there again.

"Are you sure you don' wanna try just one for five dollars?" the dealer asked him.

Ben wanted to get away from him as soon as possible, but he knew that the dealer would continue to follow him until he got something from Ben. He did not want to cause a scene on the street so soon. He caved and handed the dealer a five dollar bill. The dealer gave him a small vial with a rock in it. He made sure not to be too obvious with the exchange just in case someone was following him.

"Just because you are cool as shit, im'a throw two mo' rocks in there for ya. You getting the three for one special." The dealer opened the vial, took a couple of pieces out of his pocket, and put it in with the other one.

"Enjoy man. Enjoy," the dealer said and walked away. As he was walking away, he yelled at Ben. "I'm at this same corner every day if you wanna find me!" The dealer was loud and caused a few people to turn around and look. Ben walked away quickly, not acknowledging the dealer's last statement.

Ben proceeded to pick up a few clothing items, toiletries, and something to eat and drink for the night. He decided to get the other things he needed from Brenda. When Ben arrived back to the apartment, he emptied his pockets. He took the vial of crack and placed it inside the cabinet under the sink for safekeeping. Ben did not want to leave it where it could be found easily by visitors. He thought about tossing the rocks in the toilet and flushing it, but he did not want to waste five bucks. He taped it down to a point where it was completely covered so it wouldn't be obvious what it was. It would be there if he ever needed it.

While he was straightening things in the apartment, the doorbell rang. He hadn't told anyone the location of his new place yet. He was worried that someone had followed him back to the apartment or, even worse, the crack man found him. He looked through the peephole and saw a woman on the other side. He did not know who she was. It wasn't Brenda, but a brunette lady. He put the chain on the door and opened it.

"Yeah," Ben said through the small opening.

"My name is Elizabeth Moore." She looked down at the paper in her hand. Are you Benjamin Berardi?"

Ben did not know what to say. Was this a test or something? He had no idea who this woman was.

"No. You have the wrong person," he answered.

Elizabeth looked down at her paper again. "You look like him."

She turned the paper so he could see it through the crack. Ben's mugshot was on the paper with a couple of paragraphs attached.

"I'm your assigned life coach. I'm supposed to meet you here."

Ben's face curled in disbelief. Elizabeth was a short, middle-aged, average woman with a corporate short haircut. His first thoughts were how on earth _she_ could help him. He knew that this operation was going to be a shit show. He opened the door to let her in.

"I only have a couch," he told her.

Elizabeth went over and sat down on one end of the couch, and Ben sat on the other end.

"As you know, everything we do from now on is confidential. I am here from the district attorney's office and the task force to give them updates on you. I am supposed to keep up on your whereabouts and to pass along instructions or information that you need to proceed with your assignment. I am also here to check up on how you're doing," she told him.

Elizabeth worked for the New York State Organized Crime Task Force. The Manhattan DEA, as well as the FBI, were all in collaboration to get the operation going.

"Well, I already know what I need to do. I don't need a visit from Mom every day. You can just come here and give me my orders," Ben said.

His attitude irritated Elizabeth. "Look, what I hear in your tone is that you are the type who doesn't like to be told how to run your life, especially from a woman. I am here to do a job, and you're here to do as we instruct you to do. I'm required to keep a log of all of my observations and report back to them. We can make this a smooth experience, or we can be difficult, which in the end will not work out for you." Elizabeth was firm in her stance.

Ben was taken aback by her response. "Fine, do what you have to do." He had to learn how to control his temper. He could not afford to mess this up.

"Good. First, we have to get you cleaned up because you have a gala to attend soon. We have to do something about that awful tattoo on your face. What is that, a circle?" Elizabeth said. She was referring to the small teardrop.

"Just something a friend gave me," he answered.

Elizabeth instructed him on how to use concealer to cover it up. Ben protested. Makeup was for women, and he did not want to be seen with feminine products on his face. Elizabeth told him that most actors wear makeup to smooth out their skin and cover blemishes. She told him to think of it as him doing a scene in a movie.

***

Before Elizabeth left, she instructed him about visitors and his daily whereabouts. He was to check in three times a day. If he missed a check-in, they would be on his tail. Brenda and his son were allowed to visit and stay with him overnight but not move in unless he got permission from Pasquale. She gave Ben two thousand dollars to hold him off for the first month. He was instructed to budget. Being on a budget was not something he was used to doing while being out on his own. It was a far cry from having hundreds of thousands of dollars at his disposal. This life was different, and he didn't like it.

The next day Brenda and Junior paid their first visit to Ben in his new place. They hugged, and she kissed him on the cheek. She did not intend for her lips to land on his cheek. He moved his lips away. Ben had Brenda bring food from her apartment although what she had available was limited. She obliged, thinking that eventually she and Junior would move in with him. Junior ran around the empty apartment exploring the space while Brenda and Ben talked.

"This place is big. I like it a lot. It's much nicer than where we are. Maybe Junior and I can move..." Ben cut her off.

"No." He shook his head. "No," he repeated. I know what you are about to say, and it's no. I'm not allowed to have extra people live here. I have to get permission first. I am on this particular program where they monitor everything as a condition of my release. I mean Junior can come anytime, but that's all I can do. It's not me, it's them," he added.

He was only partially honest. It was to some extent him. He did not want her there so soon. The requirements saved him from having her move in and take over his freedom. Brenda's face was crushed. She went to the prison every month in hopes that one day he would get out and they would be a family. She expected him to be as accommodating to her as she was to him. She didn't want to show him her disappointment and quickly changed the subject.

"I need money," she told him.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I've only been out not even forty-eight hours. I don't have that much," he snapped.

"Our son needs things, he needs to eat. I have to pay the babysitter and since you had me bring food from our place here, and we can't even stay here. How is that right, B? Take care of your son!" Brenda snapped.

"What about that family you were sending him to?" Ben asked.

"We don't speak anymore," Brenda replied.

"So they found you out, huh?"

"Don't start this. I did what I had to do because you were locked up..."

Ben went into his pocket and pulled out a small roll of cash.

"Here is fifty bucks. It's all I can spare right now," Ben said and tossed the fifty dollar bill on her lap.

"Fifty bucks. What am I supposed to do with fifty bucks?"

"Buy him some damn food," Ben snapped.

#  Chapter 4

The Dixon Rhodos Scholarship Foundation was established to keep youth in school and off the streets, away from gangs, and out of prison. This was John and Bunny's first public showcase of their philanthropic endeavors and the opening public relations push toward a future in politics. Mariana used her connections to secure a hotel conference area for the event. Many of the local businesses in the Harlem area, as well as some larger sponsors from Manhattan, contributed funds to the gala and the foundation. The sell for John was to get businesses to invest in impoverished youths to keep them away from committing crimes and possibly spilling over into the wealthier areas. This appealed to the residents and sponsors who had significant concerns about the rising crime rate in Manhattan. The event was to be held at the newly renovated Knickerbocker Hotel, which was renamed 1466 Broadway in Midtown Manhattan in one of their showrooms.

Ben had a suit rented for the evening. He wore it with a yellow dress shirt he purchased. He secured an invite to the event as a plus-one through MetLife. Pasquale had close friends who worked for the insurance company and was able to score the invite from them. This way, there would be no suspicions from the organizers before Ben's arrival. Ben's hair was impeccable, shoes brand new, and his visible tattoos were covered, even the one on his face by cleverly matched concealer. Elizabeth and another man went to pay Ben a visit before he left to wire Ben for the event. The feds were able to get a wiretap order from a judge based on the interview Ben gave them in prison. They taped the cords on his chest and checked to see if he could be heard from down the street. They gave him specific instructions on how to wear the device. They would be recording behind the scenes because they also had people working at the building posing as maintenance. When they were done, he was ready to visit some old friends he hadn't seen in years.

As the guests were arriving, the FBI had men in the van watching and recording as each person went in. Each prominent community person was noted. When John and Bunny came, they took notes on their every move including what they wore right down to the jewelry she had on her neck, wrists, and ears. Ben arrived at the gala by cab and walked through the front doors with a confidence he hadn't experienced in years. The James Bond music that used to play in his head to encourage him returned, and he made his grand entrance. He walked into the event with a smile and a handshake for those who recognized him from many years earlier. Ben was a star just like the old days when he and the Chimera crew would walk into a room. It was the family reunion for the ages.

Ben spotted Bunny sitting at a Star Table from across the room and walked over and sat down in the empty chair next to her. The star tables were reserved for those who spent the most money. Those tables were treated to various wines, including BunnyWine, which was at the height of its popularity. Bunny was holding the bottle by the top to showcase it to the people who were sitting at the table. Bunny was not paying attention to what was happening as she chatted with the other guests. When she turned around and saw Ben, she jumped a little. Her face turned white as a ghost. She took a second to question what she was seeing.

"Hello, beautiful," Ben said to her.

Bunny sat silent, holding her breath. She did a quick look around to see where John was in the room.

"Surprised to see me here? Well, I'm surprised too. It's been a long time," he said.

Bunny had to recover her breath from the shock. "Hi, Ben."

"I see you haven't changed a bit. Just as lovely as you were before." He attempted to lean over and kiss her on the cheek, but Bunny leaned back far enough that Ben got the hint and didn't want to look awkward in front of the other guests at the table.

"Wow. Any kids? No, wait. Let me guess, no. Your figure hasn't changed one bit. Still a figure eight," Ben said while eyeballing her body.

The comment irritated her. "I have...we have two daughters. John and I are a family now," she said. Ben looked surprised at the revelation although he knew about the marriage beforehand. He didn't know about the children.

"I thought that his pipes were defective, you know, since he and his other wife never had any. I always thought that was strange. Shame how she ended up, huh? He must have been devastated as they were married so long. She loved him, I think. I'm pretty sure. She told me this. Well, at least you were around to pick up the pieces, right?" Ben rambled. This made her mad.

Bunny did not answer him after five seconds of awkward silence.

"Anyway, I have a boy, his name is Ben."

"I'll pray for him," Bunny replied.

"Come on. Don't be so mean. You never left my mind all of this time. I really mean that. I've missed you, Celia. You were the only one I missed. Just so you know, I still will never call you Bunny. I know that's what you are using now, but you will always be Celia to me. I can't get used to that."

"I don't care," she replied.

Ben leaned over to talk closer to her ear. Bunny was reluctant to let him do it.

"I wrote you a lot while I was gone. Did you get any of the letters?" he asked. "I was writing you to tell you how well I was doing."

The letters he sent from prison did arrive at Bunny's residence, but most of them went in the garbage due to John getting them before she saw them. Others were just put aside until John had more time to examine the contents. He hid them places where he knew Bunny could not find them.

"I didn't see any letters. You look okay. Not as crazy looking as I last saw you," she said.

"Okay, I'll take that. I'm sorry, I'm sorry about everything. I failed you. I did a lot of things wrong. I've made some missteps along the way. I did my time, and I'm on the right path now, just like you guys. I'm clean."

"Congratulations. That's big. Stay that way."

One of the other women at the table leaned over and inquired about the handsome guy who had joined them.

"Bunny, who is this handsome man? Is he one of your friends?" Bunny paused for a second to come up with a safe answer.

"He worked with all of us at Chimera. He's the fifth person in the group," she said.

Ben knew that Bunny was shading him with that comment but took it in stride.

"Really, is that so? You never talk about him. Where have you been hiding him all this time? We've heard so much about this group in detail but not much about you," one of the ladies replied.

"He's been away. Far away. He just could not wait to get here and just let all of his thoughts out."

"Ladies, my name is Benjamin Berardi, but you can call me Ben if you'd like." Ben extended his hand to the women.

"I've known John since the beginning and this lovely woman right here for many years. I promise, you will see a lot more of me for now on," he told them.

John and Lawrence were at the other side of the room, having chats with possible sponsors for the foundation. When he looked over to see how Bunny was doing at the table, he spotted a Caucasian man standing next to her. After a few seconds, his curiosity turned to anger as he realized that it was Ben next to a visibly uncomfortable-looking Bunny. This was the first time John has seen him since the funeral, and he resembled his old self. John was confused as he thought that Ben was still in prison. The setup gave John instant flashbacks to when Ben first made moves on Bunny at the Chimera company party. He excused himself and went right over to the table. He saw that they were sitting down when he arrived. He grabbed a chair from an adjacent table and pulled it up to their table. Bunny saw this and knew right away that whenever John made moves like that, he was not in a good mood. She immediately scooted over to the chair John brought over, and he sat in her seat in between her and Ben.

John looked at Ben with daggers in his eyes. "Ladies, can you excuse us, the three of us here have some things to discuss," John told the women sitting there. They got the hint and proceeded to get up and leave the table once the disc jockey began to play music.

"Who let you in here?" John asked.

"What? I was invited. I'm a plus-one. Once a Rude Boy, always a Rude Boy, right? Both Jerome and Bernie are my family too. You are not going to cause a scene now, are you? You've always been dramatic," Ben replied.

John didn't reply to Ben. He leaned over and asked Bunny if she was okay. She reassured him that things were under control.

"Did you invite him?" she asked John.

"No," John replied.

Ben began sipping on the wine that was at the table.

"This wine is delicious, I must say. What is it? I know it's called BunnyWine or whatever, but wow. This tastes incredible. Incredible like the girl this is named after. You have done well for yourself here. How on earth did you come up with this?" Ben looked at John with curious eyes as he asked.

John wanted to punch him in his face, but business was more important than a fight, and this wouldn't look good for him being a changed man and a future political leader. It would surely scare away any potential donors. The thought of Ben taking even a slight sip of BunnyWine made his blood boil, and it hit him personally knowing that he had once been with Bunny intimately. He could not stop the hatred running through his veins.

"This is a great song they are playing right now. Celia, you want to dance? Remember the old days?" Ben leaned over and asked her.

"No. She does not want to dance with you," John snapped. The three of them sat there as if they were waiting for one or the other to make the next move. John's face was beet red with anger.

Ben broke the silence. "Okay, let me come clear. I am here not only for the festivities but for business too. Before we can do that, we need to talk first," Ben told John.

"Not interested in your business. We have nothing to talk about," John said.

"Aw come on. You can't still be holding on to old grudges. We are grownups now," Ben responded.

"How are you out so soon? Why are you out of your cage?" John asked.

"Good behavior, man. I'm clean," Ben said as he raised his glass.

"Right," John responded in a doubtful tone.

"It's important. We have to speak," Ben said.

"What's important?" Bunny chimed in.

John took a deep breath. He didn't want to involve Bunny with whatever chaos Ben was trying to stir up.

"Excuse us," John said to Bunny as he and Ben stood and left the table. "I'll be back in a few." Bunny was miffed that John decided to go talk to Ben without letting her in on what was happening. She was an official now, and she wanted to be treated as such. Lawrence saw both of them walk away from across the room. John signaled him to be on the lookout.

***

When they arrived at the back room, Ben got to work. "Sorry about the mean, but true, things I said about you, and I'll forgive you for trying to blow my head off," Ben said.

"Same ole asshole, I see. What brings you here?" John asked.

"I want a fresh start. I've been clean for a few years. I've made some mistakes, but I've learned from them. I'm a father now, so..." Ben said.

"So you are asking for a job here? Seriously? You? Nah man. Was hell icy when you left?"

"If you are referring that hell is freezing over then, indeed, it is," Ben responded with an uneasy tone.

"I don't have openings. We are back in the states for the foundation. We have that under control. Everything else is running through my managers, and BunnyWine is in Kingston. I can send you somewhere else," John said.

Ben had to put on his best face. This was one of the hardest things he had to do, which was swallowing his pride. He could not be out of his usual character. John had the ability to smell fear and hatred in people. John was familiar with Ben's hatred, but he knew that Ben was never scared of him.

"Look, it was very hard for me to come here and speak to you like this. I learned through counseling that I have to move on and deal with my issues. Everything I've done before was because I was high. That's not a problem anymore. We have our differences, but I think I'm more comfortable with familiar people. Bernie would have wanted us to work together as a team like we've always been, and I believe..."

John cuts him off midsentence. "Bernie wanted our loyalty. He trusted his entire life's work to us. Bernie did not want his people to steal from him. Why in the fuck would I trust you with anything? You are in your situation because you do not understand the concept of loyalty. If you needed a job, why come back here of all places? I know you hate me."

"My options are limited," Ben said.

"You options are limited because nobody wants to hire a felon."

"Look, you're pissed right now. I know I still say things that may make you mad, but I've always done that, so that's not new. I do that with everybody. I don't mean anything by it most of the time. It's just jokes. I have a family, I'm clean now. I need help getting back on my feet," Ben said.

"If I were to give you a crumb because that is all you will get from me, how do I know you won't do something astronomically stupid and piss it away?" John asked.

"You don't. I will do the best with a...crumb."

John stood silent for a few seconds. He was not above being petty at times. He wanted to get under Ben's skin.

"How good are you with passing out fliers?" he asked.

"I don't know. What does that have to do with anything?" Ben answered.

"Because that is what you will be doing if I bring you back, street team." John knew that Ben wouldn't go for it and leave.

Ben was mortified. John was reducing him to a job that was occupied mostly by teenagers.

"What the fuck? Passing out paper to people on the street? You know what I am capable of doing. You can find something else for me. I'm practically a goddamn accountant. I'm worth way more than $3.35 an hour," Ben said.

"A goddamn accountant who steals! Any other criminal would jump at the opportunity for a second chance," John said.

"That's messed up. You've done just as much shit as I have. You just were never caught," Ben interjected.

"That's all I got. Take it or leave it."

Ben's face was red with embarrassment and frustration. He was at a low point.

"Fine. Where are the papers?"

"You just don't start a job like that. You don't report to me. You will now work for Mariana Dexter. You already know her," John said.

Ben stood there quietly. He had never faced Jerome's widow before and hadn't said anything to her since his death.

"You will wait until she tells you to report in. You will do as you are told, everything that you are told. If she tells me of one misstep from you, I will bust your goddamn head. Touch my wife, and I will put a bullet in it."

Ben stayed silent.

"Leave your contact info with my associate, Lawrence."

John got up and walked out the room leaving Ben standing there. He couldn't believe he took the job.

"Who the fuck is Lawrence?" Ben mumbled to himself.

Lawrence was outside of the door listening in disbelief. When John passed him, Lawrence pulled him aside.

"I heard everything. Fraternizing with the enemy now? Tuh! Is this really a good idea? He's not here for nothing. I would not trust him with my dog's shit. He could get a job somewhere else," Lawrence said.

"I don't trust him either. I don't know why or how he got out of the hole, but we need to keep an eye on him. I'm just keeping my enemies close. Better he is in front of us than behind our backs. I will explain this to Mariana," John answered.

"And, Bunny. I'm gonna tell you now, I don't see neither one going for this shit, and he's going to do something stupid," Lawrence added.

"I know about the girls. I will talk to them. I will work on that. I have plans for this guy," John said.

Ben left the gala without being seen by anyone in the main room. The entire exchange went from triumph to embarrassment. He ran into Lawrence, and Lawrence introduced himself to Ben. Ben looked at Lawrence with disbelief.

"It's like he got a bigger and taller Jerome. This fucking guy is predictable as usual," Ben said to him and smirked.

"Just give me your info," Lawrence said. Ben wrote his number and address on a piece of paper and flung it at him.

John returned to the table where Bunny was sitting and assured her that everything was okay. He would explain things to her when they returned to the hotel. He didn't want to ruin her night.

Ben made it outside and knocked over a trash bin on the street in anger. All of the bravado he had when he walked in disappeared by the time he stepped out of the double doors. He got into the first cab he flagged down and returned to his apartment. Once he made it back, he removed the wires. He threw them down on the floor in frustration. He called Elizabeth to rant for an hour.

***

Ben's frustration didn't stop once the conversation was over. He needed an outlet. He took out his pack of cigarettes and pulled one out. In prison, he replaced his desire to use a needle with a rollup. He had no other options. He used his money or traded items for some of the homemade smokes that prisoners had hidden in their cells. He burned it quickly. He pulled out another and smoked that one. Before dawn broke, he finished the entire pack and the apartment filled with the thick smell of cigarette smoke. His rented suit that he never took off now had to be cleaned due to the smell. His ashtray was full.

Ben sat on his couch and stared at the wall. He didn't know how he was going to pull this off. Being clean meant that he had to face problems head-on instead of tuning out with the help of drugs. Elizabeth was no help. He knew that her job was to strictly watch and him and give instructions. He remembered that he had the rocks taped in the cabinet. He figured that he would just try one to see if that relaxed him. One rock did not qualify him as falling off the wagon in his mind. Ben only counted everyday use as a person being an addict. He thought he was past that stage, so this was okay. He got up and went to the cabinet to remove the vial. He took one of the three rocks out and put the vial back into the cabinet without taping it back.

Ben knew how this worked. He had drug use down to an effective and economic science. All he needed were the supplies. He got some foil, a small empty pickle jar that was left over in the top cabinet, and a rubber band. He put the items together until it resembled a drum. He poked small holes in a circle and cut a mouth in the foil. He took some of his cigarette ash and put them in the small holes and put the rock on top of it. He learned how to heat forms like this without it cracking and jumping into his eye by accident. He placed the jar on his lap, using his legs to keep it steady, and he lit the rock. He put his mouth over the hole and breathed in the smoke that collected in the jar, slowly letting out the smoke through his nose while he tilted his head back. The feeling was pleasant, his stomach had butterflies, and his body began to relax almost instantaneously. It was like falling in love for the first time. Those few seconds after the smoke left his nose was pure heaven. He took another hit, and the second time made him feel even better. For the next half hour, he felt warmth, detachment, and less anxiety. He felt heroic with an instant feeling of excitement and pleasure. He knew he just had a good hit.

In between moments of being high, Ben's thoughts began to race. On one hand, he wanted to chase the dragon and recreate the feelings of euphoria he had when he used before he went to prison. Conversely, he felt that he had just dropped the ball. He felt this was necessary to pull this whole operation off. He'd had a stressful evening. He was trading away his pride for freedom, and that was a lot to deal with. He did drugs for the same reason people wore specs. It improved his world view. He rationalized that if he got out of control, he could be reeled back in. He resumed his activities and finished smoking what remained there, as well as the residue. Ben wanted one more go around. He got up and returned to the bottom cabinet to retrieve another one. He left the last one there without taping it back. He repeated the process.

Ben was ready to go. He could do this now. In his mind, he was back in his old form. He put everything down on the floor and removed his suit jacket and pants. He laid down to finally take a nap. It was almost midday before anything else happened.

Ben suddenly woke up from his phone ringing. It was Elizabeth. Ben was coming down from his high. She attempted to have a conversation about the night before, but Ben kept slurring his speech.

"Ben, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm all right. What do you want?" he asked.

"I'm checking up on you."

"I'm okay," he answered in an irritated voice.

"Are you sick?"

"No!"

"Are you using? Ben, are you using right now?" Elizabeth pressed.

"No!"

"I'm on my way over there."

"No! Don't come over here. I just made it to sleep. I just talked to you. Do it later on. Please. Just please let me get some sleep. And don't accuse me of using."

Elizabeth paused on the phone. "Okay, I'll call back later. I'm required to check on you three times a day."

"I know," Ben said and hung up. He went back to sleep.

***

The next week, Ben was ready for his first day helping Dixon Rhodos. He learned how to strap himself with the recording devices like a pro. He was given specific instructions on how to do so. He knew that this job was going to be difficult. He was not familiar with Mariana as he had not spent any time with her. He wanted to feel her out a bit. She could be a valuable trove of information for him about the current setup of John's businesses. He also knew that she may still be upset at Jerome's passing, so he knew to tread carefully. Pasqual encouraged him to schmooze a bit to get on their good side. John had set up a small temporary office in Harlem for Mariana to run operations for Dixon Rhodos. Although Ben knew the area well, he still managed to show up late for the first day.

"You're late," Mariana said in a cold tone.

As Ben walked in, he could sense that he was walking into a hostile environment.

"Sorry. Traffic," Ben said.

Mariana wasted no time. "I didn't know you had a car."

"I don't."

Mariana rolled her eyes at him. "I hope you're more reliable as a rep than you are as a friend."

Startled by her statement, he said, "Put down the knives, lady. I just walked in. I'm a great friend."

"No, you are not! Where were you? Where were you when he died? Why didn't you help him? Those were your people who killed him. He did not deserve to die like that. We were together for a long time. All of us and you were not there. You abandoned the guys," Mariana said in a loud, but sad, tone.

Ben had to come up with something quick. "He was a grown man. He wanted to leave. There was nothing I could do about that. They did not need me anymore."

"I don't believe you. I just don't. Nothing about his death seems right, and I just don't trust you. You're only here because John had to beg me to take you in. You're doing the work a volunteer should be doing. So unless you are getting orders, I really don't want you hanging around me. You get paid every two weeks. Your job is to tell the community about us and solicit donations. Have you seen the Salvation Army? Just like them. I hope you don't steal it," she said.

"You're a bully."

"Don't you think I have enough reason to be a bully? I know about your reputation. I know where you've been. I know what kind of a person you are. You don't belong here. We help people," Mariana said. "Thank goodness this is only temporary," she added.

That was a bit of information that John failed to tell Ben. Mariana's tone irritated him. He was not used to taking orders from women.

"You're right; I should not be working for a bitc... I should not be working with someone who is difficult. Everything from you sounds personal," he said.

"It's not personal, just business."

"That line. John used that all of the time. Don't be him. Do you know what kind of person _he_ is? I have news for you, hun. We aren't all that different, and I think you know this. None of us were different from each other, not even Jerome," Ben said.

"Just go and get your bucket and your location for the day. It's over there," Mariana said, extremely vexed. She knew that he had a point. She learned a lot from the year she, Jerome, and John had spent together.

"I'm supposed to pass out papers. Where are the papers?" Ben asked.

"Don't worry about that now, just do as I tell you and go," she said.

***

Working at Dixon Rhodos was becoming a challenge for Ben. Mariana was becoming increasingly difficult for him despite doing his job. His frustration was building, and he felt that a hit was the only way to deal with his issues. Ben knew he was ready to get high again, but the one small rock that was left wasn't enough for him to make it. He needed money for more. He wasn't scheduled to be paid until next week, but he couldn't wait that long. Ben went through the money that was initially allotted to him. He didn't budget properly as he was instructed to do. Brenda was using Junior to drain him of funds.

Brenda and Ben came to an agreement on how to care for Junior. He convinced Elizabeth and Pasquale to have them move in with him because he needed some help. He told them that Brenda could watch him since he is so untrustworthy. Since he hadn't collected a check yet, he did not have enough money for everyday expenses. Having Brenda and Junior live there would make things seem less suspicious. Junior needed a babysitter outside of school hours, so Ben volunteered to look after him. Brenda would inquire about Ben's daily routine, but he kept the details quiet. It was a condition of her moving in. Brenda was thrilled with Ben's sudden change of heart, so she took full advantage of the situation. They did not talk about anything meaningful, and they did not have much in common. She wanted him to love her, and the best way she knew how to get to him was through sex.

"Hey," Brenda said.

Ben looked at her.

"If you are not doing anything this evening, and I am off, maybe we can get reacquainted with each other."

"I'm tired," Ben responded.

"You used to never be too tired to fuck," Brenda said.

"Have you no decency, woman. The kid is in here."

"Since when have you ever put decency first? Come on, I've known you long enough. Let me taste you. I'm still as good as I was before."

"I believe you, but not tonight, honey," Ben joked.

Brenda's face turned to frustration.

"Okay, so you have good shit here and yet you went out and spent money that you could not afford to get some Asian bitch in a shop to blow you. I can do a better job, for free. You can have any hole you want right here. I don't get it. I love you, I've been here for you all of this time. Why do you treat me like this? Is it the scratch, because it's healing?" Brenda said.

Ben did not respond to the declaration of love from Brenda. "I can barely see that. Honestly, the kid is a boner killer."

Brenda took note of his omission. "I'll put him to bed now. I will be quiet. Please, papi, let me," Brenda said. She began to unbutton his pants.

Ben accepted it because it was there. He had been dry for the years he was incarcerated, so he felt that he had to catch up. The trips to Times Square were not enough. The physical relationship between Ben and Brenda did not stop him from flirting and messing around with the neighborhood women. He loved the attention and since he was not married, he felt he had the right to be able to play around with what was available.

Junior ran around the apartment freely, and Ben didn't mind. He missed the quiet but since having Brenda move in with the baby, that peace had become scarce. He resigned himself to work and outdoor activities with his friends for a break. The spacious apartment had shrunk in size due to the extra items that were put in when they moved in. The baby was not a problem, but Brenda living there was cramping his style. He could not do so because Brenda was always on his back. She often checked his messages and his pockets. She became possessive. His only sense of privacy was one closet, which he kept locked. Brenda inquired about the contents of that closet, but he would never tell her. It was mostly clothing and a box of his letters and a notepad from prison. Ben did not like the invasion of privacy. He had to often remind Brenda that this was just an arrangement to only help Junior so he could get his benefits for school.

Brenda's work shift had changed to overnights in the stock room. This meant that Ben was on babysitting duties more often while she worked. Once Brenda got off and made it back to the apartment, she would take him to school. Junior had more freedom with Ben. As long as he didn't do something bad, Ben was okay with him. Junior was just like his mother, loved to ramble, but only around people he were comfortable with. He was quiet around strangers but he was active and liked to touch things. Since he and his mother had moved in with his father, Junior's time with her was reduced. Brenda put all of her concentration into looking after Ben. He would have to get up early in the mornings and get Junior ready for school. He would feed him breakfast and then sit him down to wait for his mother. In the meantime, Ben would take a nap while Junior watched the morning programs with his backpack and jacket ready.

Brenda still held on to the money from her failed trick. She hid it in socks in her bag and did not want to spend it. She wanted to hold onto it as a reminder of her mistakes. She did not wish to blow through it like she did with her other money. She'd planned never to spend it. Ben was getting desperate at this point; he decided to go for another high. We wanted to find the same man on the street he ran into when he first arrived back, but he needed some money. First he went through the drawers in the apartment. He did not see anything of worth in them. He opened the closets and did not find anything of value to give away. He thought about using the television, but that would be immediately noticeable to Brenda. He looked over in the corner and saw Junior's toys. He stopped himself. He could not sell Junior's toys. Who would buy toys? He continued to search the apartment for something. He would not dare go to Mariana for a loan. He kept looking until he found a folded hundred dollar bill hidden in one of the pairs of socks in Brenda's duffle bag. It was just enough to get ten hits at ten dollars each. This was the same hundred dollar bill Brenda got when turning her failed trick. Ben had every intention of replacing it as soon as he got paid. He had to just make sure she did not notice it missing until then.

He took the money and went to the spot where the dealers were in the Bronx. He used the entire hundred dollars for the rocks and headed back to the apartment. He figured he had enough time to go downstairs to the basement of the building and get a quick smoke. Ben was always careful of his surroundings, but the drugs were once again clouding his judgment. This time, undercover TNT officers were casing the block for drug deals. Tactical Narcotics Teams were undercover narcotics officers introduced by Pasquale and the police commissioner as an intensive street-level anti-drug program. Their job was to orchestrate buy and bust operations to arrest low-level drug dealers with hopes that those dealers would spill information on higher level dealers. One of those officers spotted Ben doing an exchange with a dealer for the rocks. They also saw Ben stop and pick up a bag of marijuana. They then proceeded to watch Ben roll it up and smoke some it right in the street. It seemed normal to him, as if he was smoking one of his tobacco cigarettes. When Ben left, one of the officers followed him back to his apartment to question and possibly arrest him for drug possession. The officer decided not to follow procedure. He wanted full credit for the bust and decided to take things into his own hands regarding Ben. This was not uncommon among the ranks of the officers. He figured that it would not be that much trouble since Ben appeared white and unassuming.

Ben made it back to the apartment building to walk up the three flights of stairs. The undercover officer followed him but was a floor behind. Ben knew that there was someone else in the stairway but didn't think anything of it. He could have been a neighbor, he thought. Ben made it to the front door to unlock it when the undercover officer stepped behind him.

"Hey, you. I need to talk to you," the officer said.

"I can't right now," Ben responded.

"I need you to stop. I saw you out there just now, TNT. I need to search you," the officer said. He put his hand in his pocket where his gun was located.

Ben knew that this guy was not a neighbor or visitor. He wasn't sure if he was a cop or if he was being robbed.

"I don't need to be searched, I live here," Ben said.

"Sir, I see the white residue on your pant's leg. You just left a high drug area. Federal law says I get to search you."

"Not here," Ben replied.

"What's in your pocket?" the officer asked.

"Nothin'," Ben responded.

"I can place you under arrest right now if you don't cooperate."

Ben could not afford to be caught with anything on him. He could not get rid of the vial he'd just bought. He got the door open walked into the apartment and tried to quickly close it. The TNT officer stopped the door before it shut and attempted to force his way in.

"Hey, you can't come in here," Ben yelled.

The officer continued to try to open the door.

Ben looked down and noticed that the officer had a large tattoo of a skull and bones on his arm. "Where's your warrant!"

They struggled for a minute until the officer managed to knock Ben out of the way. Ben panicked because he knew it was over for him. He hit the officer and tried to prevent him from grabbing his gun. The officer swung at him but missed. Ben managed to get his left arm around the officer's neck and squeezed as hard as he could. The officer used his hands to try to get Ben off of him by hitting him on the head instead of grabbing for his gun. It was becoming hard for the officer to breathe. Ben got his hand in the officer's pocket and felt the small pistol and pulled it out. He was going to shoot him but remembered that if he did, the officer's blood would be all over the apartment. It would be reminiscent of what happened when he hit Jerome over the head with the rock. He tossed the gun across the room, far enough that it was out of reach for the officer. Ben decided to break his neck instead. It was too late for anything else. He was already in trouble. He squeezed with both arms until the officer became limp. He realized the door was still open, and he kicked it closed while still holding the officer. Ben continued to squeeze this neck until he was sure that the officer stopped breathing. The force of Ben's arms and hands were so extreme that it left red marks around the officer's neck. The officer's face was blue and his eyes were open; his body did not move. Ben laid him down and walked over to pick up the gun. Ben checked his pocket to see if the vial was still there. He took it and placed it in one of his jacket pockets.

He knew that Brenda and Junior would be home shortly, and he wasn't sure if there was someone keeping tabs on this officer. He had to get rid of the body. He first removed the contents of the officer's pocket. He put it in a plastic bag. He then went into the bedroom and grabbed a washed sheet and proceeded to wrap the officer's body in it. He could not move a body out in daylight, so he decided to drag the body into the closet. He got some clothes and piled them on top of the body. He used a lock so Brenda wouldnt go snooping. His concern was that he had to get rid of the body before it started smelling, but that would have to wait until sometime early in the morning. '

When Brenda and Junior arrived back from the day, everything seemed normal. The body was still locked in the closet, and as long as it was in there Ben felt okay. While exploring the apartment, Junior walked to the locked closet door. Brenda spotted him and pulled him away.

"Daddy doesn't like anyone touching that stupid closet," she told him.

What's so damn important in there? she thought.

Junior ran back to Ben to sit by him on the sofa. "Daddy, you smell like the babysitter," Junior said. The smell of cannabis was still heavily embedded in Ben's clothes.

Ben got up and went over to the closet, making sure that Brenda did not spot him. He opened it just far enough to reach in and grab something. He pulled out a box with a bow on it. He kicked the body back farther with his foot and hurried up and locked the closet back, making sure that nothing was visible from the outside. Ben walked over to Junior and presented him with the box. It was an Atari game system.

"Daddy, a game!" Junior yelled with excitement.

Brenda looked in from the other room.

"Yep. That is what's in there. Your mother would have ruined the surprise. It's supposed to be good, just like the arcade games at the diner. Let's hook this up. Two game cartridges came with it, and if you behave yourself, I will get you a few more," Ben told him.

***

Brenda used to give Junior candy often to keep him calm as he would become fussy in the mornings. It was one of the few ways she got him to sit still besides giving him a toy or placing him in front of the television for cartoons. Brenda had not given him candy in a month, and Junior was not happy about it. It was due to a recommendation from the counselor at his new school. While his mother was out at work and Ben was on the couch sleeping, Junior ventured around the apartment. It was too early for him to play with his Atari game. The game was one of the few things that kept Junior's attention in one space. Junior went into the kitchen to find some sweets. He only went to places he could reach, which was the refrigerator freezer and bottom drawers and cabinets. He made it to the lower cabinet under the sink, where he spotted a tube with a tiny piece of rock in it. He opened it and removed the rock. He put it in his mouth and sucked on it. Junior winced at the taste and spit it out about ten seconds later. Some of it melted and stuck on his tongue before he got it out. He closed the cabinet door and picked up the piece. He spat and ran to the bathroom. He put it in the toilet and flushed it. Junior would often run into the bathroom and flush the things he wanted to hide and that sometimes included his small toys, which they would stop up the toilet. This was a cause for Brenda to spank him at times because the landlords were not pleased with the plumbing bills. Ben heard the flush and got up. He went and looked to see what Junior was doing but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

"Did you go to the bathroom?" Ben asked.

Junior shook his head.

Ben ushered him into the living room and placed him back in front of the television. He walked around to see if Junior had messed anything up, but nothing appeared to be out of order.

When Brenda left Junior to take him to school, Ben got up. He knew he had to get the body out of the apartment soon. He had done this before, so he knew the routine. He tied the officer's hands and ankles together to reduce the size of the body. He grabbed several big black garbage bags and placed him in there. He dragged the bag downstairs into the dumpster hoping that the noise would not alert neighbors. The dumpster was already full of trash bags, and he figured that he could camouflage the body in between the mountains of smelly garbage. He doubled and tripled the bags and tied them tightly so it would rip easily. He managed to pull the body into the dumpster. To make sure it wasn't obvious, he climbed in and rearranged the mountains of bags that were in there, staining his clothes with the smelly garbage. He knew the crews around the area did not care to check. Their job was to get everything emptied as quickly as possible. By the time they would find the officers body, he would be at the dump already.

When Junior arrived at school, his normal hyperactive behavior was unusually subdued. He did not interact with anyone. The class was packed with kids as the budget cuts the city made to programs forced overcrowding. Junior was lethargic and losing consciousness. Saliva ran from his mouth. He sat in corner of the classroom and leaned on the wall. He could not keep his head up. The room was spinning. Shortly after, he started having convulsions. His teachers became alarmed and called the ambulance. One of them desperately tried to keep him still while the other kids looked in horror. They rushed Junior to the hospital. They quickly administered drugs to stop his seizures. They took blood tests to see what was happening. Ben was contacted back at the apartment by city police. Ben had just dumped the body and was showering so he could get ready for work. Brenda stopped by the store to pick up some food for the house before she made it back. The police told him that Junior was sick, and that they may have found traces of cocaine in his system and it was very possible that Children and Family Services would take him. Ben became frightened. He pretended to hurry up and get himself together so that he could go see his son. He told them that Junior's mother would be back soon. He did an once-over through the apartment, pretending to get his things together. In reality, he was looking for the small vial that he left under the sink. When he went there, he found it but saw that it was empty. His heart sank. Junior must have gotten to it.

Ben took the vial, removed the foil and rubber band from the jar, and casually threw it out the kitchen door. It tumbled down the fire escape. He rinsed out the jar and put it in the rack with the other drying dishes. He made sure that it didn't look too obvious that he was doing a quick cleanup. He went to the closet to get the jacket where the new vial of rocks was. He put the jacket on and pretended everything was normal. When he and the cops were leaving the apartment, Channel 4 news was reporting about a missing cop in the area who had disappeared the day before.

Before they left the building, Brenda was walking back. She saw Ben and the cops leaving and asked what was going on. The cops told her about her son. Brenda screamed loudly in the street, so loud that passersby stopped to see what was happening.

"Oh my god. How? Where is he? Where is my baby?" she screamed in agony.

"He's in intensive care, ma'am. I need you to come with us," the officer told her. He tried to get her to calm down. Brenda looked at Ben. "You have drugs here!"

"No, I don't," Ben replied.

"You liar! Where did he get it from then?" she yelled.

"He could have gotten it from school, or maybe you!" he shot back. He knew he was wrong but needed to deflect some of the ire from her.

"He got nothing from me and you know it," she replied. That moment, Brenda began questioning her entire situation with Ben.

Brenda pushed Ben out of her way to get to the car and got in. He got in after her. They didn't speak the entire ride to the hospital. When they arrived, Ben casually passed a wastebasket and dropped the vial of rocks in there, making sure that no one saw him.

***

Pasquale has no social refinement, he was not a conversationalist, and at times he couldn't hold his cool or make strangers unfamiliar with him feel comfortable. Buttering up the press was easy because there was a certain set of statements that he said and knew how they would be interpreted. He knew what to say to get maximum positive press coverage. In the general public, it was more unpredictable. He has no control of their questions or their reactions to his statements. When people griped to him about the problems, he knew they were right some of the time. The other times he knew he was correct, and he let them know that he was right. Pasquale wanted to run for mayor of New York City, but he felt he needed to build a base outside the borough of Manhattan. He called the television stations and had a few of them follow him around the poorer neighborhoods to get enough footage of him speaking with residents.

"Sir, can you help us?" one of the residents asked him.

"Yes, I can. I am a public servant, and I am here to listen to your concerns," Pasquale told them.

"A lot of the residents are poor, and they are trying to do away with rent control. That hurts us poor citizens who do not make enough on our jobs to maintain rents that are in the thousand dollar range. That's outrageous. It's nothing but greed. The government gets all of this money to help the community, and it never makes it here. It goes into the pockets of the politicians," the woman said.

"Ma'am, I am sure that is not the case."

"Look around. Look how we live. All of those landlords who left burnt these buildings down for the insurance left us like this. We still gotta live here, and now the ones who are still around wanna raise our rents to live in a shithole. I live in a building where the top two floors are burnt out because we ain't got anywhere else to go. They didn't put us in a shelter. They just told us to go back into the building and that it's safe. Do these buildings look safe to you? They didn't tear down those burnt buildings. Why our kids gotta live like this? The schools are terrible. Ain't enough jobs, and the ones around don't pay shit. Where the jobs at? Where the money at?" the woman added.

Another man in the back yelled, "Maybe he got some of it, throwing all our brothers in jail for petty shit."

Pasquale looked spent after the residents expressed their concerns.

"Thank you for talking to me. I am glad to hear your concerns although some of it was highly offensive to me and to those who work hard to maintain this community. I can't believe that you will blame our government or me for your issues and claim that the decisions of my office occur because I have money," he said in an icy tone. "My history and truthfulness are important to me. The integrity of our government is important to those who maintain it. Perhaps some of the blame for your living conditions lies within those in this community. You foster drug addicts and criminals. Help the prosecutors and law enforcement keep those people at bay, then you would not need a handout, your buildings won't burn. I am done speaking here for now, and when you have some real solutions to suggest feel free come back and talk to representatives in my office."

Undeterred, a few of the residents began talking to him all at once. They wanted to make sure he understood them. They continued to forcibly express their concerns. Pasquale wanted to leave the area as soon as possible.

"This discussion is over!" Pasquale said and walked away with his entourage.

"You are just a rich criminal!" the man in the back yelled at him again.

Pasquale heard him loud and clear. He was not going to respond but decided to do so because he was annoyed. Pasquale looked back, and his shifty eyes stared at him disbelievingly. His face began to pale, and he smirked uncomfortably. The people who were with him knew what was coming when his face turned that way. They had witnessed numerous times the passive aggressive wrath of Mario Pasquale.

"We help those who help themselves. As for you, mister, I am glad they did not help you. Other people deserve it more."

Pasquale could help the residents of Harlem and the Bronx, but he saw them as the people who voted for Ed Koch. Those are the people who won't vote for him if he decided to run. Pasquale had difficulty with Koch because both men were strong-willed. Koch and the police commissioner were tight. Some of their policies didn't mesh well with Pasquale and his tactics, which had caused some internal political discord within the ranks and prompted Pasquale to start an exploratory committee to run for mayor. Those are Democrats and right now, he is the star Republican. Helping the liberal establishment goes against his interests, which laid with those who had the money.

Pasquale went back from his day of speaking to the public to concentrating on his cases. The one that was on his mind the most was the case against John. Pasquale was becoming impatient with the progress of collecting information about John and his business dealings. He pressed Elizabeth to get him to gather more information. The progress of the other mob families' trials were going smoothly, and Pasquale felt the lagging component was Ben.

John visited the office of Dixon Rhodos to see how things were going. He went to check on Mariana and Lawrence to get a report from her about how the fundraising was going. Lawrence stayed around Dixon Rhodos while Bunny and John were in town to conduct other affairs. This was to keep an eye out on Ben as John instructed him to do. Ben improved his behavior from the first day and did his work. He used the opportunity of being out on the street to make some new connections while collecting donations. He became famous in the neighborhoods. Most of the donated money stayed in the pail, but Ben managed a system where he was able to get some of the paper money out without damaging the container. The pails that he and others operated were kept locked and could only be opened by Mariana back in the office. Ben could not hold an unsealed container because people were known to steal from various collection containers or take the entire jar itself. Mariana's keen eye for changes kept her searching for any inconsistencies on the pails. She was waiting for an excuse to complain about Ben so he could leave.

The news about Junior had not reached Elizabeth or Pasquale. Ben had not called out of work yet. Brenda was angry with him and not speaking, and now the police were on his radar. It was only a matter of time before things got bad. When he was questioned about possible drugs in the apartment, Ben played dumb like he did most of the time. He'd mastered getting himself out of dire situations. He suggested to the police that it could have possibly come from some other kid at school. He and Brenda wanted to see their boy, but the authorities would not allow it. If he were to be released from the hospital, Children and Family Services would take him and put him into foster care. He was in bad shape.

Brenda was so upset about the police questioning that she stormed away from the hospital after getting updates about her son. She needed to get some things from the apartment before she returned. She did not like that she was now being investigated as a criminal. She had a hard time coming to terms that her child may never be the same. She tried her best to take care of Junior and build a family, but now her feeling was undeniable guilt and failure. When she made it back to the apartment, she decided to do a quick look-through. She took the seat cushions and flipped them over. She moved the couch aside to see if there was anything under it. She found nothing but ashes from his cigarettes and another tray that had flipped over. She went into the closet that Ben forgot to lock. She had never been in it since she moved in. She wanted to see what was so important in there. She looked and saw nothing but clothes. She looked down and spotted his box with his notepads. She looked at some of the papers and spotted a couple of drafts that he started that were meant for Celia. Brenda became sadder and then angry. She stormed into the bedroom to gather her clothes and some of Junior's clothes, whatever she thought could fit in her duffle. She continued to look for things that resembled drugs but did not find anything. She went into the bedroom closet to grab her duffle and get her sock with the hundred dollar bill she had hidden in it. She wanted to add it to the other money she had since she just gotten paid. She was going to find somewhere else for her and Junior to stay. She was sick of him. She unfolded the sock and concluded that the money was not there. Brenda panicked.

She went over to her drawer and pulled out all of her socks, unfolding them one by one, only to find that the money was not there. Brenda began crying profusely. She thought that she had placed the money in a safe place. Brenda was not a forgetful person. She went through all of the socks and found nothing. She lifted the mattress and the sheets off the bed and shook them—nothing. She took out all of the drawers and emptied the contents on the floor. Nothing. She went into the bathroom cabinet and looked in there. Nothing. Brenda fell to the floor and had a mini breakdown.

Ben walked into the apartment and saw that the place was in shambles. He went into the bedroom where Brenda was crying and walked over to her.

"Get off of me...get the fuck off me." She pushed him away.

"What happened here?" Ben asked.

"You happened. I hate you!" she yelled and started hitting him until he backed off. "You took my money, you took my son away. This is all your fault! I hate you!" she screamed.

"I didn't do anything..."

"The money that was in my socks, you took it! Do you know what I had to do to get that money? Do you? You don't care!" She got up and took the bag she had filled and stormed off.

"What money? Where are you going?" Ben asked. He had to play it off.

"Fuck off. I'm going to get my baby back and you stay away. We don't need you," she said.

"What? You can't do that."

"Oh, the fuck I can. Go to your bitch, Celine, or whatever the fuck her name is."

Brenda stormed off and went down the stairs. Ben did not try to stop her.

#  Chapter 5

Ben could not do anything about the situation with Junior at the moment. His condition did improve, but authorities did not authorize for him to return to him nor Brenda until their investigation was complete. The local news organizations had gotten hold of the story, and it was broadcast across the city. He got a frantic visit from Elizabeth once the news reached them. Pasquale was angry about the developments. He did not want a potentially embarrassing story about his association with Ben. He sent Elizabeth over to straighten things out. The outcome of the investigation lingered on Ben's cooperation and behavior.

"Ben. What is going on? What happened here?" she asked.

"Junior got a hold of something from school. He did not get it from here," he replied.

"Ben, we can't have this. You have a record. There is a whole investigation riding on you. You lied to me and told me that you were not using. This makes me look bad," Elizabeth said.

"I'm not using...only once."

"Goddamit, Ben. What else has happened here?"

"Nothing. Brenda went apeshit, threw everything around, and left," he answered nervously.

"Were the drugs yours?" Elizabeth asked.

"No. You have to believe me. Why would I hurt my kid?"

"Look, because of this we are running out of time. I have Rebecca and Pasquale on my ass now. My job is on the line. You need to get your ass back to work. Visit your son when you get off. You just cut your time to get this right significantly short and are dangerously close to being put away for good. They are not just going to send you back to jail, Ben, you will be killed."

***

Ben decided to be a bit more aggressive as he was instructed to do. None of this has gone the way he planned. He needed to come up with a solution quick. He knew that John was about to leave town soon, so he needed to get to work before the police decided to put their target on him. The only way out was to complete the job he was sent to do. He wanted to chat with John. He knew that John was not here to stay and that he and Bunny were going to leave soon.

Pasquale's pressured Elizabeth to push Ben to take things as step further. Today was the time to strike. Ben walked into the office where John was sitting alone to have small talk. He had not been there in three days. John had heard the update about Junior through the news. He was curious about everything that was happening.

"Hey. I'm sorry about your boy," John said.

"Thanks. He's getting better. He found something at school, and I guess he ate it," Ben said.

"Well, that's not good. I hope he recovers," John replied, although he was suspicious about Ben's story.

"I wanted to stop by and say hello. I wanted to tell you it's been good here so far. I'm getting the hang of this," Ben told him.

"Good to hear," John replied.

"I'm impressed with it all. Good stuff." Ben looked around the room. "How were you able to get all of this?" Ben asked.

"All of what?" John asked.

"Everything you have going on here. You left the country, right? You didn't stay. I don't know a whole lot about Jamaica, but I do know they are not as rich as us. You have this wine business, but that can't be the only thing paying for all of this. You got hotels, you got other stuff—a foundation. How did you make this money?" Ben asked.

John thought it was strange that Ben was inquiring about his fortunes at a time where his son was fighting to get back to normal. "The foundation is run by donations and community business sponsors. The winery is successful. Everything else, I am not inclined to discuss with you," John responded.

Ben knew he had to turn down the rhetoric. He sensed John was getting suspicious of his questions.

"You aren't scared to be back over here in the states. You know the FBI run amok over here. It's open season," Ben said.

"You're out, aren't you?" John said.

"Well, yeah, but I served my time. They are going after people like us."

"Like us? New Chimera isn't what it used to be. We aren't about that anymore."

"Okay, so you don't kill people or shake them down anymore?" Ben said.

John was taken aback by the questioning out of left field. The discussion put them back into a zone when both of them were a mob family. The conversations about business ran deep at times. John's tone changed from sympathetic to angry.

"No, and I was not there by myself. We...us, including you, did what we were told. Anything extra was necessary to keep things in order. I did not like having to off people one bit, but it was better them than us. It was our job. We did what Bernie told us to do. Ambrosino took our business, we took him out. He had Edina murdered, we took him out. They took our name, I took it back. You kill if you need to survive. If there is a threat to you or your family, you protect yourself. For Chimera to survive, he had to go. They had to go. You know this already." John's tone was angry but firm.

Ben stood there.

"Where are you going with this?" John added.

Ben's tone softened a bit. "Hey, even though we have our differences, I am impressed a bit, and I agree, I guess. All I am saying is that you are living well and that takes a lot of funds," Ben said and then he paused for a moment. He decided to go for the money line. "By the way, what happened to all of our money, John?" he asked.

"Our money, at a time like this you are asking for money?"

"Yes, our money. You didn't earn tens of millions by yourself. What happened? Did you lose it? I think I am owed at least some explanation since I helped make it. If you kept all of it then just say..." Ben said.

John cut him off. "The money was split up between us all."

"Except me," Ben said.

John did not say anything. He knew Ben was right.

"What did you feel you deserved extra? You stole a lot of money from us, from people. That was your thing," John said.

Been looked nervous. He did not want that revelation to be on tape.

"But you knew about it, too, you knew that the whole investment thing was a farce. That's not the point I'm talking about anyway. I'm talking about how you guys treated me. You always did this. You and Jerome always did this shit. First you make plans with the company, with Bernie, without including me. You bring Celia in without discussing it with me. Then when we start dating, you were chasing her behind my back," Ben snapped.

"So this is about my wife? I saw those letters you sent. You must have been writing that shit with a hard on. 'Ooh baby, I love you, come see me, it's lonely in here.' I hope you were not deluding yourself with thoughts of reconciliation because that shit ain't happening. Discussing her with you right now is a waste of time. Oh, and that shit you wrote about me, nice try. Slandering me in letters got you nowhere. Get over it already. Go to your kid," John responded.

"Celia, can speak for herself, and I think she would agree with that. She doesn't need you as a mouthpiece. I come asking for forgiveness, you give me a hard time, and I don't say sorry to anybody. I am here working for pennies. Not once did it cross your mind to say, well okay here is a few extra dollars since we go way back, or maybe, this guy has gone through enough. And you kept everything to yourself, millions! Did you pay taxes? Where did you bank it?" Ben said.

"You were shelved. You walked away from us. You forfeited your cut. You lucky that Bernie did not live long enough to kill you, fucking Benedict Arnold," John said.

"You probably would have told him to do it. Why won't you just admit that you are no better than the rest of us? You were a career swindler just like me, just like Jerome, and just like Bernie," Ben snapped.

"Oh, get the fuck out of here."

"Fine. I'll go back to work. It's just like the old days, isn't it? You know, I've missed this shit."

As he walked out, he said, "I'll be out there working. Feel better?" Ben made a crack of a whip gesture and sound with his mouth. John gave him the death stare. It was indeed just like old times.

"Wait," John said while taking a deep breath.

"This isn't working out," he added.

Ben looked at him with frowned eyebrows. "What isn't working out?"

"This," John replied.

"Are you firing me?" Ben asked.

"That's what it looks like."

"Oh, your timing is impeccable. What was it that I said, huh? Was it me having the nerve to question your integrity? Or are you are mad because I fucked her first? You dated her but I got to actually bang her first. That's it. You can't stand the sight of me. That's what this whole thing is about. You gave me a shitty job just so you could stick it to me. You never had any intent to patch things up," Ben said.

"You have no goddamn clue what my intentions are. I know what yours is. Every shitty letter you sent her from the hole told me what your intentions were," John yelled.

"I knew it. You are threatened by me," Ben said while shaking his head in agreement.

John got up and punched Ben. Ben did not hit back. The commotion could be heard from the next room. Mariana peeked in and saw that John was punching Ben. She was going to go in and intervene but didn't. John kept punching him, causing his face and lip to bruise and bleed. With each hit, Ben gave John a grin. This startled John as he was delivering the blows. John stopped when he sensed that Ben was not going to fight back. Ben pushed John off of him. John got up and told him to get the fuck out once again before he killed him. Ben got up with his bloody mouth and wiped it. With his busted lip and bruised eye, he started to walk away.

"I'll be okay. You on the other hand..."

"Are you threatening me? I'll take you out right now," John said.

"No, you won't. You care about redemption and shit. I care about improvement. I am not threatening you at all. No, I'm not actually. See, I don't need to do anything. Everything will take care of itself here. I'm just saying, you can go fuck yourself," Ben said and walked out calmly, closing the door behind him. John ended up bruising his hand in the process, and it started to swell quickly. He went to Mariana to see if she could get someone to come and wrap it up before he went to a doctor for x-rays.

Ben's final statement was too calm for John's taste. John knew how to push Ben's buttons but this time, Ben did not explode on him. Why didn't he react? John thought.

John sat there for a bit after Ben left. The conversation made him uneasy. His gut was working overtime. He called for Lawrence to come to his office. He wanted to see if he could get some people to look after Ben's activities.

Ben walked outside after the conversation with a slight grin on his face. Blood was leaking onto his shirt. People were staring at him as he walked by. One man stopped and asked if he was okay. He reassured him that he was just fine. Ben walked almost two blocks until he came across a white van with graffiti sprayed on the outside of it. He stopped and cased the street to see if anyone was following him. He looked down on his chest. "Gentlemen, I hope you got all of that." Ben proceeded to walk away.

There were two men with recording equipment and cameras in the van. They looked at each other and nodded in agreement.

Ben made it back to the apartment, unsure what to do next. His phone rang almost immediately after he put his jacket down. He picked up the phone.

"This is Elizabeth. What just happened?"

"The fucker fired me and then beat me up. I managed to get fired from a minimal wage job. Can you believe that shit?"

"Actually, I can," she answered.

"So, are you going to send me back to the hole because right now I don't give a fuck."

"No. We are not sending you back. Just sit tight and wait until we tell you what to do. I'm going to send you some more money," Elizabeth said.

***

John and Bunny took a trip over to the old Chimera Building on Nineteen West Forty-Sixth Street. The building was as skinny as they remembered it. The burned out shell from the fire years earlier had been repaired, and the outside had been repainted to a green that matched the Statue of Liberty. The bottom half of the building was converted into a restaurant and the top floors were now being used as apartments and other micro businesses. The Ambrosino family sold the property a year after they acquired it from John's ex-wife, who sold it under everyone's noses. Looking at the place where he got his start brought up hard feelings from John. He flashed back to the years when he, Bernie, Jerome, and Ben were doing well. He flashed back to the morning that Bunny walked in. Those were the good ole days when all five of them were still optimistic about their futures. Now those times were just distant memories. He had to keep himself from tears while his wife was there. One thing John was adamant about is not letting Bunny see him cry. He was too proud for that. He was supposed to be the strong one. Each one of those rooms on the inside of the building used to house Chimera's home, soul, and Bernie's dreams. Now it housed a massage parlor, restaurant, and people who didn't have a real appreciation for the building's history.

"Do you want to go in? We can look around if they let us. Maybe we can try the food here?" Bunny asked him.

John took a deep breath. "No. I don't. I have my own memories of this place, and I don't think that I want to see it set up any other way."

"Have you ever thought about buying it back?" Bunny asked.

"I thought about it, but then again if I do, I may end up moving back here. I don't want to do that right now. This building housed my old life, our old life. It's too tempting. Maybe I'll come back in the future," John said.

Bunny leaned on him, and they both stood on the sidewalk for a few moments, looking up at it.

"Our old lunch hangout is still down the street. Let's go eat there instead. It hurts less," John said.

***

Mariana continued to work for the foundation with the other volunteers who remained there. John, Bunny, and Lawrence decided to return to Jamaica with the family since their work in the city was done. They had another community outreach and donation drive to run. They wanted time to relax before they started back with work again. When they arrived back to Jamaica, Bunny insisted that he rest before he had to get up the next day to speak to the people. She was concerned about his hand and told him that he needed to heal.

John sat at the television to watch the newscast for the evening. The events back in New York made international headlines. Mario Pasquale held a press conference to announce the arrests of high-ranking members of the Cosa Nostra. John had a bad feeling about it. He phoned Lawrence to come over. He needed to give him some emergency instructions. On the flight back from New York, John had a lot of time to think about what had transpired. When Lawrence arrived, they both sat and watched the events unfold. The speech and aid drive in Kingston was only sixteen hours away from starting, and John should have been preparing for it, but the events kept him glued to his television.

Before the men in the press conference spoke, the sound of cameras flashing and whispers of media members filled the room and left the television speakers.

"This is the worst day for the Mafia." Pasquale laughed with his entourage.

"We are announcing the arrests of high-level organized crime figures here in the city and beyond. The bosses of all five New York family members as well as the heads of other families are either in jail, awaiting trial, or will be arrested shortly. There is a total of thirty-two arrests that are now taking place or pending as we speak. Twelve more have agreed to surrender to federal authorities. Four are still being sought. One will be extradited, a business executive whose name is temporary being withheld. He will be named soon. As you know, this has tremendous repercussions for us as some of the arrests were Italian nationals and were carried out due to warrants from the Italian government and others from the prosecutor's office here in New York. The unsealed ninety-two-page indictment indicates that the ones who are from the local area are charged with participation in an organized crime conspiracy which includes extortion, construction bid rigging, gambling, drug trafficking, and murder conspiracy. These arrests were part of a national campaign to bring the generations-old system of organized crime to its knees. The arraignment will be held at federal district court in Manhattan."

John and Lawrence sat in disbelief. John picked up a phone to call his lawyers to put them on alert. John instructed Lawrence to go back to the states, immediately go to the bank, and take out money for the family. John did not want to risk the FBI seizing assets, leaving Bunny and the girls without any money or a means to live. Lawrence took the first flight out, which was the last one of the day, and headed to back to New York City to carry out instructions. John had no plans to cancel his appearance the next day. He figured he had time to make a speech since he was in Jamaica. There was no way they could do anything right now, he thought.

Once Lawrence left, John went to the other room and saw Bunny with Sophie and baby Sandra, playing on the floor. He looked and smiled. He would generally stop for a few seconds to acknowledge what was happening, but this time he decided to join them for some playtime. Bunny was pleasantly surprised.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Bunny asked, smiling.

"As ready as I will ever be," John answered. He sat down and played with the girls.

The next morning, John and Bunny arrived at the host hall that was connected to Karlus's church as if they were the first family. Amidst the slowing turmoil, they managed to become heroes. The local Jamaican community looked forward to their gifts of food, school supplies, and necessities. This was the event that John wanted to use to get to the people. He wanted to build a future with the community, but the uncertain events had him worried about that possibility.

Before John's speech, John pulled Bunny aside and asked could he have a talk in another room in privacy. She gleefully obliged. Bunny knew that John relied on her to keep him calm right before making appearances. He was used to schmoozing small crowds but not larger ones that contained an audience with a political ear. When they entered the room, Bunny began to straighten his tie and smooth out the shoulders of his suit jacket. He looked at her with his amused and slanted grin. Then he became serious. "Bunny, sit," John told her.

Bunny sat down, and John followed. They proceeded to talk.

"I want you to listen to me. I took out of the bank, a couple of million in cash, and I want you to keep it. Do not redeposit it. Do not leave it at the main house."

She was instantly concerned. "Why? What's happening?"

"Something is going on," he answered.

"What is going on? John, you have to be clear."

"It's Ben," John said.

Bunny waited for a second. "Oh, for Christ's sake. What did he do now?" Bunny replied.

John got to the point. "He's a rat. I think he's a fucking rat."

Bunny paused at the revelation. "So let me get this straight. You let him back in here, into our family business, he's disturbing our lives, and it turns out that he is disloyal. John, when has he ever been devoted to us, to anybody? Why did you let him back in here?"

"I gave him another chance because I needed to watch him. We have no information on why he was released early from prison. The last thing we needed was Ben running around unattended. He said he had changed, he has a family, and I felt sorry for him and wanted to give him a second chance. Apparently whatever issues he has with us he's still mad about," John said.

"But you don't even like him."

"You're right. I don't like the guy. I worked with him for a decade. You don't have to like someone to work with them. There was too much money to be made, too much at stake. There is too much at stake now. He came back to us unannounced, I had to get in front of it," John said.

Bunny sighed. "So what does he have on us?"

"I discussed some things from a long time ago," John answered.

"Anything current?" she pressed.

"Just a few things."

"Why are you discussing our business with him, John? He's just an employee. You didn't tell me anything when I was just an employee. How do you know that he wasn't working with someone? They tape people now. He was probably watching us."

"Bunny, that was different, and I don't know what to tell you. It's just like any other discussions we've had in the past about business, typical family bullshit."

"He's not part of the business anymore. He's not family anymore, John. He's not even a friend at this point. Have you ever heard of the term entrapment? John, don't you see what is happening? He's here to destroy you. He doesn't give a shit about your forgiveness or redemption. I knew from the moment he walked back into our lives that he was up to no good. You have to stop being so nice now. I know you are a changed man, and that's great. I love it, but that doesn't mean you get stupid! The old John is who kept us safe and alive. How many times are you going to be in this situation? You were supposed to discuss nothing with him, and you let him get under your skin," Bunny said.

John was shocked at her tone. She was morphing into him. "I know. He came here for you."

"What?" Bunny asked.

"You know what. He's carrying a torch, and I needed to keep an eye on him to keep him away from you."

"You didn't have to do that," Bunny snapped.

"Yes, I did," he responded.

"Are you kidding? I am not going back to him. I can't believe we are having this discussion again. Six years and two children later? You don't trust me?" Bunny pressed.

"It's not you, it's him. Trust me, I know."

"John, I have a mouth, I can say no."

"I know that. I did what I thought was necessary to keep things in order," he said.

"John, we are supposed to be partners. I don't need a babysitter. You have my heart and soul. That is something you will never have to worry about, but you are still hiding things from me. You don't let me know things. This is not fair," Bunny told him in a panicked voice.

"Bunny, lower your voice. Lawrence is taking care of the money. We may not have to do anything right now, but this is just a safety net for you and the girls. I'm getting out what we can before they come and take it. I don't know what's going on yet. I fired Ben, and he is pissed. We will be okay. I'll make sure we come out of this okay. We just have to figure out what's happening."

"Come out of what? What's going on? John, I'm worried...our family," Bunny said.

John looked at her. He put his finger under her chin and lifted her head with it. He stared into her eyes and said, "Our family will always be intact. You will be the one to hold it together. Remember everything I taught you, remember everything that you have learned and apply it. Do what you need to do, and just take care of the girls. Family first."

***

John walked up to the podium, bandaged hand and all, and saw a group of admirers, many of them with their young children, ready to eat, receive their donations, and listen to him speak. Bunny and the kids were in the corner watching him from behind the curtain. Sandra slept in her arms, and Sophie stood at full attention to see what her father was going to tell the crowd.

"Distinguished participants, and my brothers and sisters, thank you for having my family and me and making us feel welcome here. Sorry about this hand, I accidentally hit it on something hard. It was stupid." The audience laughed lightly. "My wife and I are not natives, but our two little girls are. We arrived a few years ago amidst a sea of promises and have remained here with you amongst the tumult of war. We plan to be with you once the next great phase of Jamaica begins." The onlookers applauded.

John momentarily looked to the side. "My wife backstage found Jamaica first, she came here before I did and was here about a year before the rest of us knew it. As they say here, 'Tek Weh Yu self.' She wanted to find a place where people like her were fighting to be self-sufficient. It was different from where we came because the people back home in the states were fighting for inclusion. Here you were fighting for independence. She saw your leaders like our good friend Manley, and she admired their strength. It was something that she resonated with. She told me how great this place was, so I followed her here and the rest is history." The audience laughed and briefly clapped.

"I wanted to speak to you about redemption, and I promise that I won't drag this on for too long because I know you all are ready to eat," John said while grinning. The audience laughed.

"I have a confession to make. I was not always like this. I was not always giving; I was not always a nice man. I've done some things in the past that I regret, and I've hurt some people along the way. There were people who I had not treated the best, and now they are no longer here. My regret with that is that I didn't say I'm sorry before they passed on. I could have handled things in a better manner than I did. I think most of us go through that at some point in our lives. At the time, I was doing these wrong things like smoking, drinking...cheating, I was being steered by my misguided need for wealth and power. I was being directed by my unhappiness and, in turn, that spread to other people. It would have been much better for everyone involved for me to leave the situation I was in, but I chose the easier way out. I was attracted to the glamor, the flashy lifestyle, the mystique, the glorified violence, and I mimicked all of that. It wasn't until my Bunny entered my life that I realized perhaps the way I was doing things was wrong," John said.

Several men quietly entered the hall and stood in the back. They were escorted by three white police officers. John noticed them come in, and the pit of his stomach dropped. He continued talking.

"I want to tell you that, despite what your past may have been, there is always room for redemption. There is an opportunity for change. It's never too late to grow up and help your fellow man because, for this place, this beautiful island to grow, we need each other. When you help people, it may not always work out but at least your heart will be in the right place. You can be the man who used to hurt people and turn into a man who helps people. I am sorry for all of those things I used to do in the past, and having Bunny and the girls made me grow up quite a bit. Having the love and support from the people here has helped me grow as a human being. I now have a responsibility to them, and to you, to make sure that the future of my kids' birthplace is safe and secure. I may have to answer for my past, but believe me when I tell you right now, I no longer live in the past. I feel at this moment that I am a success not despite my obstacles but because of those obstacles. I want both sides of the political parties here to feel the same, to unite. Put aside your differences, the tumultuous past, and be the success that God meant for you to be. I believe that the PNP and JNP can find common ground for the sake and future of Jamaica. PNP JNP. Peace in Jamaica," John said.

The crowd loved it. Some of them began to shout "PNP! JNP peace!" over and over again. Others were wildly applauding. The authorities in the back were baffled. A couple of them were not happy about it.

"Who the hell is this guy?" one of the officers asked another.

"I don't know, but whoever he is, these people seem to like him," the officer answered.

"People love a reformed gangster, I see," the first officer replied.

Sensing something was about to happen, John ended his speech. "Thank you, Jamaica, and enjoy the rest of your day."

John was about to move away from the podium. The men and officers began to walk and push their way to the shouting and cheering crowd and head toward the stage. John saw them coming and froze. The crowd was confused, and some of them began to shout louder. Bunny and Sophie stood and tried to get John's attention to come to the back, but he gestured his arms for them to stay back. The officers made it to the stage and told John that he was under arrest and started handcuffing him. Some of the women in the audience began to scream, "Yu take dem off." Others began to shout "pigs!" Others were confused about what was happening.

"John!" Bunny shouted.

John looked over at a shocked Bunny and said, "Remember what I told you this morning."

The officers walked him away in front of the stunned crowd. Bunny handed Sandra and Sophie off to their nanny, and she ran after them. The men who were walking John pushed her back. Bunny began screaming at them. "Let him go! You have no right to do this."

The ladies in the audience went over to comfort her as she broke down in the middle of the floor and cried. "Why are they taking him away?" Sophie got away from the nanny to peek out and see what the commotion was about. She ran to her mommy and put her arms around her. "Is Daddy coming back?"

The authorities took John straight to the airport, and they boarded a private jet back to the states for him to be arraigned.

***

Back in the states, the FBI went and raided the offices of Dixon Rhodos. Mariana was there, and she was shocked when the authorities burst their way in. They pushed her out of the way and began to go through the drawers, buckets that still had money in them, closets, everything. They were looking for money. Lawrence managed to get to the accounts before they were frozen. Mariana ran to a phone to see if she could get in touch with Bunny and John, not knowing what just happened back in Kingston.

In one of the closets, bottles of BunnyWine were in a crate.

"Hey, Chief, look at this. Have you ever tried this?" one of the agents said.

"What is it?"

The agent picks up a bottle. "This guy's wine, I hear it's pretty good, expensive too."

"No. Is there a cup around here? Let's taste it. It's a celebration, courtesy of John LeBlanc!" The guys in the room all laughed.

The agents looked until they found a stack of Styrofoam cups. They popped the bottle and drank the wine. They all agreed that it was delicious.

"Hey, hey, let's all make a toast."

The men stopped for a moment to raise their cups.

"Down...to fucking mafia pigs!" the chief said.

"Hear! Hear!" the police all shouted together, and they all toasted with their cups and laughed again. They destroyed the offices, but they found nothing incriminating. They took every dollar they found with them when they left.

***

Ben remained in the apartment until he was told what to do next. He did not do much cleaning up after Brenda tore the place apart. The only time he left was to see how his son was recovering. Seeing him hurt was the only time in Ben's life that he felt genuine remorse for his actions. He never wanted to see him suffer. He had a pretty good relationship with Junior and had taken him out on father-son days a few times. Junior recovered well enough to go into foster care. Brenda was awarded visitation, but Ben was not for the time being. Despite his success in their operation, he was still under investigation for what happened to Junior. Ben looked at the television when the conferences were held and sat in the same spot to watch the announcement of John's arrest and extradition back to New York. Following the story about John, was the search for the missing officer. It shook him. He turned off the television. He wanted to listen to some relaxing music. The first full song that played was "Ben by Michael Jackson." Ben was briefly amused. He stared at the wall while the song played and went into a daze. His mind began to flashback to his life of the past twenty years. He thought about everyone he has crossed at some point and what happened to them as a result. When the song finished, he turned off the radio.

***

Bunny continued to make plans to leave for New York to join John. She went to John's office in their home to see if she could find things and put away others that may be incriminating. She was going to remove the items from the premises. His office was fashioned after the old one he had at Chimera. He had it designed the same way, the same kind of furniture and the same photos hung on the walls. He started a new wine collection and began to rebuild his collection of SKA and rocksteady records. Some of the pictures in the room were of Bunny from her waitress days at Playboy and others when she worked with them. The group photo with all of them, including Ben, was also there. That photo was the only time the original five from Chimera would be together at the same time alive. Their wedding photo and pictures of the girls finished the décor. Every time she saw those it made her smile. She was so young and naive back then. She loved her life now but missed those days. Life was much simpler then.

She had never before gone through his things. There was always a line of respect that she did not cross. She felt that she did not have a need to rummage through his personal items unless there was a reason for her to do so. Luckily, she did not find anything that would anger her, just lots of legal paperwork. In one of the drawers she found a shoebox with envelopes in them, and they were addressed from Rikers. She looked carefully and saw that they were from Ben. This is what he was talking about, she thought. She did not have much time to read them, so she grabbed a couple and closed the drawer. Bunny figured that she could read them whenever she had some down time. She took them and placed them in one of the pockets of her suitcase.

#  Chapter 6

Mario Pasquale's third wife, Jane Southall Pasquale, did not like him very much although they did not fight nor argue a lot. The problem is that he was never _there_. Mario did not see what he was doing wrong. Jane was where she was supposed to be. She thought he was not attentive, and he was never where he was supposed to be, which was at home with her and his children. His first love was himself and the city. Next in line were his children, the Yankees, winning, and Jane was a distance sixth on the list of concerns for Mario. Jane was still a liberal at heart and did a lot of charity work in the city. She did not like the conservative change in Mario. She felt it was all politically motivated and that he was beginning to lose his way. She knew that he was not loyal and would flip according to what political situation would benefit him the most. She knew that he was not comfortable with the compromises that political parties take sometimes.

Mario and Jane met while Mario was on vacation in Florida with his second wife, Delores. Jane was an employee at a television station. She was sent on assignment when one of the correspondents could not report in for the day. She ran into him at a fundraiser that he attended and interviewed him. Mario was smitten with her looks, and she was smitten by his credentials. They soon had an affair, and when Mario's second wife found out about the affair, she confronted Jane about it. Jane initially denied the affair, but Mario soon made it clear that what was happening with her was more than a fling. Delores decided to divorce Mario, and it cleared the way for him to marry Jane. She looked better on his arm and being seen with her helped his political ambitions. Having the right looks were part of the package that his partner needed. Once his speedy divorce was finalized, he married Jane, and she had a son just four months later, garnering speculation that she was pregnant while he was still married.

Jane was a testament to the new movement of women's rights. She was married, yet she was her own woman. Most people liked her, but some behind the scenes knew her past, and that was one of ambition. She knew how and when to jump in and out of an opportunity.

The public obsessed over the Pasquale's marriage. The current situation was just as fascinating as the beginning. Jane was the mistress to Mario's second marriage. His second wife was the mistress to his first marriage. His first marriage ended because his wife Margaret ended it. They were third cousins. All of his personal relationships ended the same. He would work, see a woman who got his attention, sold her his bravado, and his current wife was instantly replaced. Jane used to accompany him to public events and some were televised. She was his trophy and an accessory to his package, but lately she stopped making appearances as Jane Pasquale. She stopped publically being his wife. She had always suspected him of being unfaithful because that is how she met him. She knew it was just a matter of time before infidelity became an issue. Jane knew this about him when they met, but the tough aspiring prosecutor with political motivations for the future, and his connections to the White House were appealing for Jane. She used to dream about one day becoming the First Lady, and she felt that this was her chance. Now she dreamed of independence from Mario.

Speculation about their marriage woes began to appear in the gossip pages of the morning papers. The word was that she was going to leave him at any time. Jane and Mario both denied the marital strife, but behind closed doors, they were living separate lives. Mario would visit the family home to see their daughter. He had also maintained a separate residence he had since before they met. Jane wouldn't outright divorce him, just in case he did decide to run for president one day. Until then, Jane pursued other ventures, like hosting a homemaking show on WWOR on the weekends, and she was a commercial actress for Nynex and other local New York businesses. When she did interviews, she never mentioned that she was married nor did she use his last name professionally. To the public, she was just Jane Southall. When she was asked about their marital situation, she ensured that they were still together and that they did private things together with their daughter. What Jane didn't mention was that she was happily married. She never talked about being in love. When Mario was asked what made him happy, he answered, "My job, my kids, and the Yankees going to the World Series."

Those on the inside knew that Mario and Rebecca, his sidekick in a skirt, were having an affair. Jane suspected this also. He had been caught going in and out of her residence many times, but Jane never confronted him about it. She decided that if he got sloppy and embarrassed her publicly, she would stick it to him in the same manner. She hired a private investigator to start following him. This investigator worked for the city under Pasquale's administration. He was also not a fan of Mario, the person. His name was George O'Connor. He always thought that Mario Pasquale was a prick and half. His open relationship with Rebecca Paulin inside the law offices put a strain on the others who worked there, including Pasquale's other advisors. It was expected that those who had witnessed their interactions from time to time were to remain silent about what they saw, and that included George.

George took photos on and off duty, posing as a site photographer, and hand recorded the interactions between Rebecca and Mario during work hours. He passed along the information to Jane, and she kept it just in case she needed to use it in future divorce proceedings, if necessary. She made a deal with herself to never use those photos unless Mario embarrassed her in public with his carry-ons. Jane was pretty savvy about the philanthropic efforts of those in the city and beyond. She was familiar with John and Bunny from the press coverage they received for their good deeds in Jamaica and the city. Jane, unbeknownst to Mario, cut a check to the Dixon Rhodos Foundation and had spoken to Bunny on a couple of occasions, just in casual conversation. Jane was quite impressed with John and Bunny, and offered Bunny her number for future contact. When Bunny learned more details about John's arrest and arraignment, she decided to pick up the phone and contact Jane.

Bunny was not sure how she was going to be received by Jane. Her husband was trying to put John away for a long time, and she needed to make some moves and quickly. Bunny settled the kids with their grandmother and made plans for perhaps a long-term stay in New York while John's trial took place. She left a sufficient amount of money to them, thanks to John's planning ahead. She would have to fly back and forth weekly between New York City and Jamaica to make sure her girls were okay. It would be a daunting task, but she was willing to do what was necessary to maintain things.

***

Before Bunny left for New York City to be with John, she returned to the Jamaica Skeet Club gun range to practice. She was not terribly worried about mastering the gun before now. This time, the stakes were higher. Bunny needed to let out her frustration after they snatched John away from the give-back-to-the-community event. Not only was it sad for her and the kids, but their entire foundation took a hit and its future was in jeopardy. For the first time since her maiden visit to Jamaica, she was on her own. This time, it was harder because she had two children. She knew what it was like, for her mother raised her alone. Agnes used to always tell her, raising one child feels like one child. Raising more than one feels like a stampede twenty-four hours a day. Bunny cringed at the thought of what it would be like to go at it alone.

She adjusted her soundproof earphones, pointed the gun, aimed, and hit the paper target on its shoulder. It was the same paper target that the Secret Service used when they practiced. It was as close to the last time she practiced gun handling when she was still pregnant. It was a decent shot, but from what John told her, it wouldn't kill the target. She had to work on her aim. The gun itself was just too large for her to shoot without losing her balance. She stepped inside to the area where the bullets flew to hit their targets. She was the only one there at the time, so she felt it was safe. She walked up to the target, stood about four feet away, and fired the gun. She fired first at the head and then at the heart. She hit them accurately. She decided that if she were going to use a gun, she would have to get close to her target and get something smaller so she could handle it better. She went back into the safe zone of the range and picked up a small silver and black FN Vest pocket gun. It was compact enough to conceal in her pockets, and the magazine that contained the .45 bullets was tiny. Her petite hand fit around the handle perfectly, and her finger had no problems sliding into the trigger. She practiced pulling it in and out of her pockets a few times to get a good handle on it. She walked back up to the target to fire a few more practice shots to see how she handled the gun. The shots were clean through the paper. Her eyesight was not good enough for a proper aim from a long distance. Bunny knew she would soon need to consider getting eyeglasses to see things clearly far away. She hoped that she would not have to be in a situation where a perpetrator would be close enough for her to have to take that chance. She left the range, and she stopped by a market on her way home to pick up a large watermelon. This was not to eat but to get a few more practice rounds in with her gun. She wanted to see if the weapon handled differently when hitting a thicker surface. When she got back home, she went in the backyard with her gun and melon. She proceeded to shoot it. The hole it produced was small when it went in, but when she turned it around, the exit aperture was large. She now knew what to expect if she ever fired it at someone.

Bunny packed up her clothes and prepared to say goodbye to her girls. Lawrence made arrangements for her to go to the airport. Bunny would be staying with Mariana and Jerome Jr. when she arrived in New York.

Sophia was devastated that her mommy was leaving. She already missed her dad dearly.

"Mommy, why are you going? Don't go," she cried.

Bunny kneeled down to Sophie's level. "I have to, baby. Mommy has to take care of some things. I will be back next week. In the meantime, I want you to be a good little girl. Listen to your grandmother. Do as she says, and don't give her a hard time. I am going to be with your Auntie Mariana and little cousin, Jerome, in New York. Remember them?"

Sophie shook her head in agreement.

"I promise to tell them you said hello, and you will get to visit with me soon. I promise. I will call you two times a day to check on you. Do your schoolwork and practice your keys. Be the best big sister you can be. Sandra is a little baby, but she already adores you," Bunny told her.

"Will Daddy be coming back with you?" Sophia asked.

Bunny looked at her daughter. Sophie had John's eyes, ears, and full lips.

"I don't know yet. I don't know," Bunny answered.

Sophie ran away for a second and then came back with a sheet of paper. It had a drawing. It was a simple family portrait of them.

"Give this to Daddy," she told her with a tear in her eye.

Bunny looked at the paper. "This is beautiful. I will."

Bunny walked over to Sandra, who was asleep in her bassinet. She did not want to wake her. She gently rubbed her head and gave her a light peck on her full cheek.

Her cab was outside. Bunny went over to her mother and looked at her. Agnes stared backed. Agnes knew that there was a possibility that things could get worse, but this was the life that her daughter chose. Agnes had always wanted her to be a nurse. Being a nurse was respectable, but that would not happen once she discovered Bunny was not a fan of too much blood. She was too squeamish. Bunny was not disciplined enough to sit through nursing school. She was always outgoing and risky, even as a child. Marrying John was right up her alley, but she did not want to see harm to her daughter. Agnes adored her too much and always saw her as a little girl, even though Bunny had girls of her own. The sight of her leaving broke Agnes's heart. Bunny was her baby. She grabbed Bunny and hugged her tightly. Nothing needed to be said.

***

John was booked once he arrived back in New York City and went straight to the bail hearing at the county courthouse. The cops proudly paraded him with his hands in cuffs during his perp walk in front of the media as instructed by Mario Pasquale. Taking John down was a big catch for Pasquale. The reporters were shouting questions at John. "What happened, John?" one of them asked. John did not answer any of them. He held his head up high and his lawyers assured the media that his client was not guilty and would beat the charges.

John was brought in the courtroom, which was heavily secured by state police. He said his name to the court, and the senior prosecutor handed a copy of the complaint against him to the judge. John made a statement against the charges of racketeering. He declared his innocence. The judge stated that he was in danger of facing ten years in prison for these charges and, therefore, would be considered at risk of fleeing. The judge decided to hold him in custody with no bail and would remain there until the conclusion of his trial. The FBI was not going to let John walk all over the place after being arrested. He was considered to be a flight risk because of his residence in Jamaica. His lawyer protested with the claim that bail being withheld was unfair and that the Italian Mafia members who were arrested were granted million dollar bail. John could have made that quickly, but the judge disagreed with the argument.

The police escorted him to jail. On the outside, John was stern and confident. On the inside, he was a nervous wreck. He had his mugshot taken, was fingerprinted, and given his uniform. The officers had him fill out a body disposition form which they use to contact a family member just in case he died in the institution. John was not sure what would happen to him or what he would see once he entered the prison doors. He had the best lawyers that money could buy. In his arrangements with Lawrence, he made sure that funds were divided so that his lawyers were compensated for their work, granted that they were able to get him released. The officers told him that if he had any associations with any groups to get that in check and quickly, or else his time there during the trial might become problematic.

He walked in and several of the inmates noticed and looked at him. It wasn't for intimidation; it was for respect and surprise. He knew many these guys and had sent monies for many of their commissary needs and some to their families. A few of them had ties to the Jet Mafia, so John was their family. The men knew how important staying in groups was for their survival in prison. Bernie taught this philosophy to all of the men he trained over the years. John passed this along to the guys he brought in from Jet, so when one of them came in, they instantly migrated toward each other. This let everyone know that this situation was not something to mess with.

All of the people there had seen the news and knew why John was walking in. It increased the hatred for the authorities that John had to be there. For many of these guys, he was a lifeline for them to get the daily necessities they needed from the inside. The men there did not know the extent of the information, but it did not take long for John and the Jet Mafia to reconvene during a yard break and begin sharing information between each other. John told them that Ben, a person who they shared common space with at the prison and from years back with Chimera, snitched on him and many of their colleagues to get his freedom. This information infuriated members of the Jet Mafia as well as others. When you were a snitch in the prison population, your life expectancy was likely to be short. A snitch in jail was usually created by the authorities to create a divide and rule environment. They were upset that Ben was able to stay uncontested. Eddie, Ben's old cellmate, always had suspicions from other prisoners of being a snitch over his head because he gossiped about confidential information randomly with people. He was always on prison staff's radar.

Jet Mafia inmates made sure no one stepped to John, so he was able to concentrate on getting out. They needed him out because John was a vital link between them and the outside. John took care of their families small needs since many of them had started families in the Bronx community. They were appreciative of John pulling them out of Philadelphia and Atlantic City to work for him at Chimera years ago. Many of those who stayed behind were deceased at this point. Having that connection on the outside made it easy for members to cope while they were serving their time for various offenses on the inside.

The inmate next to John, Leroy, would talk to him in the evening before lights out. LeRoy was part of the Jet Mafia and migrated to New York City from Philadelphia after John handed some of Chimera's deep-rooted operations to them and went legit in Jamaica with Bunny. Leroy left when things in Philadelphia began to get bad between them and law enforcement. The Jet Mafia's branch eventually dissolved in that area because members either left or were killed. Many of those who did relocate to New York City began filling jails once Mario Pasquale took over as a prosecutor. They were first to be convicted. Pasquale saw them as the common street thugs, not as high level as the Italians who were doing the exact same things.

John and Leroy communicated the same way many of the prisoners talked to each other while in separate cells. They sold mirrors in the commissary and all of them had one. They would hold the mirror outside of the bar and angle them so that their eyes were seen by the person in the cell next to them and vice versa. Some nights, entire blocks of cells all had mirrors hanging outside of them with various conversations going. Leroy told John about the crazy inmate Eddie.

"Rumors and shit were going around about that dude, Ben, for a while but nobody messed with him because we thought Y'all were cool," Leroy said.

"Nah man. We haven't been cool, ever," John responded.

"Well this dude named Eddie, errbody know him, and he used to be here before he hung himself, that's what I heard what happened at least. He would talk a lot but forget the shit later. Batshit Eddie, skinny ass white dude, that's what we used to call him. He would use that he was roommates with ole dude Ben to keep people from kicking his ass, but it didn't always work. Eddie told me and some other people that Ben told him he was in here for drugs and because he killed his brother or some shit like that. He had that tat on his eye and shit. When people see that shit, they don't fuck with you because that's the ink you get when you take somebody out," Leroy said.

"Ben doesn't have any brothers," John told him.

"Nah, man, I mean brother like the brother he worked with. You know, one of us. Remember Jerome from a long time ago? I think it was him, but I am not sure. I know they said he was robbed and shit, but something never sat right with me about that. The block knew who he was because he married the ole girl. So if somebody robbed him, they were new or they knew him," Leroy added.

John's eyes got big. The rest of this conversation was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Leroy continued talking.

"So Eddie said Ben told him that he cracked this dude's skull and shit, had blood splattered all over the room. I don't know how accurate that is because Eddie's was theatrical and shit. Then he said Ben told him that the dude died in his apartment, and he and his roommate dumped the body the next day," Leroy added.

John's heart began to race, and he paused for a moment. His face was turning red and his hand shook while holding the mirror, but he made sure no to drop it and make noise. He refocused it so he could see Leroy. "What else did...?" John began to ask before Leroy cut him off.

"Eddie use to walk around bragging 'yeah, I share a cell with so and so and we have these confessionals' and shit. I don't know what the fuck that was all about but he would say that Ben would claim he found Jesus and stuff. All I know is that motherfucker ain't found no Jesus, in my opinion. Nobody in here had seen him with a Bible. How you gon do that if you ain't got a Bible? Everybody in here got a Bible. Ain't the instructions in there? I ain't ever trusted his ass. Ed was like Ben liked this girl who's married and had said he wanted to kill her husband and stuff so he could take her away from him. I don't know who that is. Then there was also something going around with others in here that they saw Ben back in the day with the dude he supposedly killed right around the time Jerome died because you already know a bunch of us in here already and we talk. It was like what I thought before. So I went to the others like we need to speak to this dude to make sure it wasn't Jerome that he hit because we did not want to believe that. Y'all were family you know.

"We were going to go ask him about it but it didn't happen for some reason. Some of us in here know his ass, but he wouldn't even acknowledge us in the yard when we looked over his way. He had the white boy mafias watching us, but they never had any nerve to bring their asses over to our side of the yards. He would hang with the white boys all the time and was too good to associate with us, but when he was out before and shit, he swore he was like one of us. He got dudes on the street right now thinking he some goddamn movie star. A couple of us were ready to jump his bitch ass in the yards, but he didn't always come out. I think Eddie and 'nem was giving him a heads up. We went to Eddie to see what other stuff he could get from him and told him that he needed to watch his ass because of his bitch ass roommate. After we had gone to Eddie, he snapped on ole dude or some shit like that tore the fucking room up I heard, and that's when Eddie went into solitary again but didn't come back. A couple of days later, this mofo Ben walking out of here and shit.

"Now that we see you in here, we were right all along and should have taken his ass out right then, but we didn't know the extent of the situation. All I know is that we all suffer because you in here, and we ain't got no goddamn help. That motherfucker needs to go."

At that moment, John's blood began to boil. Everything that led to the moment he'd walked in made sense to him now. He started having flashbacks to all of the conversations he had with Ben since Jerome's death. Leroy continued to talk.

"You are the only brother they arrested and bet they didn't even offer you bail. They didn't give any of us bail. The others were offered bail. This is a fucked up system. The feds will tolerate certain things, believe that. You are not in here because of the org; you are in here because you had too much influence over the people. They don't want that. They don't want another brother down there in Jamaica or here telling us to love ourselves. Look how quick they moved yo ass out of there. Doing it in front of people was their way of saying act the way he does; we'll do the same to you. They were just fine with you a long time ago when you were kissing pale people ass, doing what you were told. You did what you had to do for the times, I understand that. They knew we were around, they knew what we all were about. Us, the Italians, the Irish, the Jews, we were all in that life. The cops, the FBI, were content when they got a cut of the profits. They were protecting you. A guy like you with a past who was able to change a bit and get people to support you over them, a black man at that, they don't like that shit. You light skin, but now you still a nigga to them. Look how they did yo boy Manley in Jamaica. His looks didn't mean shit after a while either. The feds took a giant shit on his rep and sent some Wonder bread dude over there to tell black folks what to think of themselves. The moment you stepped back in New York City, they got all of the dogs out on you. They let the enemy go just to take you out. Think about it. We gotta rise up man. The wasps in that other building get to sit down cooked meals, full table spreads and shit. We get nothing. They put you over here for a reason. The soldiers in here are pissed about the whole situation. Ole dude did just as much shit as the rest of us. He should be in here still. He took out his own people. That's worse than a violation. If we take him out, they don't have any credible witnesses. They got a tape and shit but your lawyer can argue that away. The worse you are in here for twenty-five to thirty years tops if shit gets bad," Leroy said.

'That's too long," John said.

"You're in here with us, but you're still the boss. All you have to do is say word, Chief, and that motherfucker is done," Leroy added.

"I don't want you guys to do anything that would make things more complicated. John looked around to see if anyone was focused on them. You guys do whatever you feel is necessary, just stay clean with it."

John paused for a second.

"Word..."

One of the corrections officers walked down the hall. "Lights out!" he yelled.

John gave him the signal to inform people on the outside that Ben was number one on the hit list. He thanked Leroy for the information and went back to his cot. He laid there staring at the gray ceiling. He had some things he needed to think about overnight because Bunny was coming to visit him tomorrow. Plus, he had to prep for his trial. He could not let his anger jeopardize his chances of getting out. Instead, he decided to return to old forms and customs. In an instant, the years it took for him to get the mob code fully out of his system returned. A made man was not allowed to touch another made man, especially his own family without consent, ever. If he did and was caught, the result was death. Ben needed to go, and he was going to see to it.

***

Back in Jamaica, the people got word of what was happening with John. Whatever the feds could get their hands on as far as monetary assets were confiscated, minus what was taken out before the indictment they froze. That meant operations at BunnyWine, Inc. had to stop, and the people who were working there were out of a job for now. Programs that John and Bunny helped fund had to seize operations for the time being or depend on donations from the community itself. It meant no more giveaways and food drives. Many in Kingston were in a panic. Those who were ready to fight for John and Bunny met at Karlus's church. They voiced their concerns and came up with suggestions on how to protest the government's actions.

"We love him here. The government should leave him alone; he's done so much for us. The same system that is fucking us every day is trying to take him down, and we won't stand for it. They took our prime minister and put in their people who support their agenda. They made us poor to do it. John stayed with us the whole time. He never gave up on us, even when it was the most treacherous around here. They fill up our homeland with guns, have us shooting each other just so they can have control. Every time we have someone who encourages us to be independent, they do something. Enough with 'tis already."

There were those who also opposed John's authority over the people. "He's not even a yard man. He's one of those mafias. Mafias don't belong in our government," one man said. He was in the small minority. Some in the audience thought he may have been tied to the FBI.

Karlus chimed in. "But don't you believe that people can change? That is what the gospel teaches us. I've known this brethren for many years now. Both he and his wife have been good people for the time I've known them. Their hearts are genuine. I can vouch for them. He has confessed his sins to us. He has never hidden from his past. That was something he did not have to do if his intentions were ill-willed. Ask yourself, how many of our current sitting leaders have questionable histories right now and have yet to make a change for themselves and the people they are supposed to serve? You know a lot of them are out for themselves and for how much they can make. That's no secret. The entire world thinks that Jamaica is ill, seriously ill. Over the last twenty years, the government has choked us of resources; funds that would help us stay afloat. They run wey all of our companies until no one wanted to deal with us anymore. John and Bunny stayed with us gave us jobs and did more outside of that and have asked for nothing in return. We owe them our gratitude.

We preach every week about forgiveness. I think that we should practice it now. Mrs. LeBlanc, the girls, and their grandmother need our support and prayers. This has been hard for them not having their father around, and they feel like they have let all of us down. We need to let them know that we are proud of them and that they will come out of this even better than when they went in," he said.

"What can we do, Father Karlus?" one of the parishioners asked.

"We can go to the government building and ask them if they can intervene. For now, that's all we can do. I don't know how much help we may get. Seaga is there, and we all know who he really works for, the same people who are trying to bring John down. I hope that they don't stick their guns on us, but that is always a possibility. We can stage our protests peacefully," Karlus told them.

The people began organizing a protest outside of the government buildings in Kingston.

***

Bunny went to visit John. From the moment she walked in, she felt uneasy. She felt the many eyes on her as she strolled over. She wanted to put her arms around him but was instructed not to. This was a territory she hoped she never had to revisit once they became a union. Her eyes met his, and she knew that something was not right. Being locked up was getting to him, she felt it in her soul, and it broke her heart.

"John, are you okay right now? Please, say you are," Bunny said.

"Nah, babe. I'm okay," John responded. He did not catch the contradiction in his answer. He was concerned about not alarming her. Bunny had a tendency to place other people's feelings first and putting the weight of their troubles onto her shoulders.

"I miss you. I never in a million years thought we would be here," Bunny said.

"Neither did I. I'm sorry," he responded.

"We're gonna get through this. The lawyers are hopeful. I have Jane Pasquale as a contact. She's married to the prosecutor. I'm going to see if I can talk to her," Bunny said.

John laughed. "Bunny, what are you trying to accomplish with that? The guy who wants me in here is tough. He hardly loses. I don't know. I can't even call it right now. Leave that woman alone. You talk to her, and she'll go right on and tell him everything. It will jeopardize my case. Just don't."

"Well, it was just a suggestion. I'm trying at least," Bunny said, and she looked down. She stayed silent. That suggestion was now out of the question.

"How are the girls?" John asked to break the silence.

"Sophie wanted me to hand this important paperwork to you," Bunny answered with a smile. Talking about the girls broke the stress of the moment. Bunny went into her pocket to pull out the paper Sophie gave her. It was the picture she made.

John looked at it and smiled. He could not quite identify the drawing on the paper.

"This is nice. What is it?" he said.

"That big circle with the lines coming from it, that's you. The one that has the ears see, it says "Daddy." The other medium-sized one is supposed to be me, and the small ones are her and Sandra," Bunny said.

John laughed. "So, I look like this. I need to fix that. Tell her I said it's beautiful, and it's going on my wall. It needs decorating. How is the baby?"

"The baby is fine. I talked to Mom, and she says that Sandra is as happy as ever. Sophie keeps her entertained. We had to put her on formula because..."

Bunny paused.

"Well, you know. Anyway, the people back home are rooting for you. It's incredible what's happening right now. They are organizing to see if they can get you out of here. You are one of them now. You are on the front page of everything. The only people opposing are those who took you away. Everyone is praying right now."

"Really, I didn't know. I don't get much information outside of what's happening here. I've heard some pretty fucked up shit about me on the news here," John said.

He looked at her. He saw the concern in her eyes, but she still had an air of strength to her. They stared at each other without blinking for a few seconds. At that moment, John thought that if she was going to hold things down for a while, she had to be given the orders to do so. He needed her to keep things as normal as possible at home for him. Bunny, for now, has become the protector of the family. It was time to stop leaving her out of the fray and tell her everything. He broke the silence.

"He did it," John murmured as shook his head up and down.

"Who did what?" Bunny replied.

"Ben killed Jerome," John said with a confident voice.

Bunny gasped, loud enough that the tables closest to them noticed. Some people turned around to look at them. They quickly went back to their business after getting a quick glance. Once of the officers walked by and looked at them. He kept going.

"Bunny, I need you to listen to me. What I tell you right now is important. I can't do anything while I am in here. First, what I need you to do is to go back home..."

"No! No, John, I am not leaving you here. You need me here for the trial. I'm yours to be seen," Bunny said.

"The girls need you at home. I don't think it's safe for you to stay here now. I need you to listen to me now and not react," John responded.

"I've been listening to you for ten years now. I am not going home. I will stay here with you and wait this out. John, I'm angry too. He's my family. You can't push me out of this. This is something that we have to deal with together as a family. All of these years, I have taken mental notes on everything you have told me. I saw everything, and I know how this works. I know what to do."

John had doubts about that. She barely knew how to handle a firearm. She was tough with her language, but physically she was still delicate.

"Bunny, I don't know where you are going with this, but stay out of it. It's too complicated. I have people."

Bunny was frustrated at his resistance.

"I know you let me into the family because I forced you to," she said.

"What are you talking about?" he replied.

Bunny became authoritative with him. "You didn't want to put me in. Do not dismiss me. You are in here and like you said, you can't do anything right now. My job as your wife and head of the family... for now, is to take care of things when you can't and I will, for better or worse right? Well, this is worse."

John sat back and looked at her for a moment. He did not know how to respond to that.

"I have things under control. I will be out of here, and it's over. I don't want our kids to end up orphans. Do you understand where I am coming from? I don't know what he's going to do. He wants to take you away from me," he said.

"I do understand, and they won't be orphans. I am not stupid," she responded.

"I don't want you caught up in this. I don't want a scratch on you," John said.

"There won't be. I've learned a lot from watching you and the guys. I already know what you all say about me. Bunny is weak, she's too soft, she's a woman she should be at home ironing and cooking. It's been like that since day one. John, I know. I knew what this whole thing was about. I stayed around because I wanted to. I'm here right now because I want to be here. It's not the 1960's anymore. Have a little more faith in me. You tell me you do, but now you need to believe it."

Those words hit John deeply. He loved her fire. She was always a scorcher.

They both sat quietly. He put his hand over hers and held it until it was time for her to leave.

***

Bunny returned to her room at Mariana's place. She sat there and looked through her pocketbook for her card to call Jane Pasquale's office. When she found it, she stared at it for a second. She knows that John does not want her to do this but she had to anyway. The future of her family hung in the balance. She picked up her phone and called the number. Jane did not answer but someone affiliated with her did.

"Jane Southall's office," the woman on the line said.

Bunny was confused. Why wasn't she using her married name? she thought. Before she answered, Bunny had to stop herself. She did not want it to be known immediately that she was calling the prosecutor's wife. She did not want to get John in trouble. She made up a name.

"Hi, my name is...Sandy. Is the Jane Pasquale's office?"

"Yes, it is," the woman said.

Sandy was the only name she could think of in a flash. It was just a variant of her daughter Sandra's name.

"I would like to speak to her."

"She's not here. You can leave a message with her."

"My name is Sandy Jones. I met Jane at a gala fundraiser not too long ago. She gave me her card and wanted me to get in contact with her. I would like to speak to her about an opportunity to have her... to have her be a spokesperson for a foundation," Bunny said.

"Is there a name for the foundation?" the woman asked.

"I would like to keep that confidential," Bunny answered.

"Okay, Ms. Jones, may I have your number? I can have her call you back as soon as she returns," the woman told her.

Bunny left the number with the woman. When she hung up, she took a deep breath. Bunny wasn't sure if she should stay by the phone all day and wait for a return call. What would she say if Jane does? She needed to come up with a script to make sure she didn't blow it.

Two hours later Bunny's phone rang. It was Jane Southall's office. Jane had agreed to schedule a meeting with her in the morning. That did not leave much time for Bunny to put her plan into place. After confirming the appointment, Bunny grabbed her wallet and headed to 125th street.

Bunny went to the beauty supply store in Harlem and shopped for wigs. She could not see Jane Southall with the same looks as she did when she met her in passing. If she did, she would be noticed immediately. Bunny picked out a long straight wig that swept her waistline, a style that was different than her usual blowout press and curl style. Bunny liked the look on her but decided that this would be something that would just get her through the meeting. She also picked out a pair of non-prescription eyeglasses and a hat to complete the look. She decided to wear attire that a teacher would wear so that meant a sweater and a long plaid skirt. This was a look that she could not get used to, but to experiment with it was exciting. She was ready for the next day and this meeting would mean do or die for her and John.

The next morning, Bunny walked into her appointment at Jane Southall's office. The secretary escorted her into the room to wait for Jane's arrival. The walls were painted in a Tiffany blue with white trim. It looked just like the box. There were photos of her and her family on the walls as well as expensive paintings. A trophy case with her news casting and awards for her charity work sat in the corner. The desks were cherry wood, and the chairs were suede white and smooth. She stood there and admired the sheer opulence of Jane's office and wanted one just like this one back at home. She looked over to her right and saw a small group photo in a frame. She walked over to take a closer look. At first, it did not appear any different from the other group photos she had throughout the room. Upon closer inspection, this one was different. It was one where she, Jane, John, and other investors took at a fundraiser in Ocho Rios from a couple of years back. Bunny was stunned that Jane had this in her office. It got her excited on the inside. Maybe there was a chance that this just may work out.

Bunny caught her reflection in the mirror and straightened her wig before Jane walked in.

"Are you Sandy Jones?" Jane asked.

Bunny turned around. She almost forgot her fake name. "Yes, I am. Hello. You're even prettier in person," Bunny said and went over to shake Jane's hand. She wanted to start the conversation off on a positive note. Jane was dressed in her green power suit. Her high shoulder pads completed the look.

"Why that is sweet of you. Thank you," Jane said.

"You're welcome. I needed to talk to you," Bunny replied.

"Sure, have a seat."

Bunny and Jane sat down. Jane behind her desk.

"Would you like some coffee?" Jane asked her.

"No, thank you," Bunny answered.

"So, I was told that you would like me to represent you and your foundation, Ms. Jones."

"Actually, not yet." Bunny cleared her throat. "First I needed to talk to you about your husband."

The ambush took Jane by surprise, and her eyes widened. She put her cup down and her attitude kicked in. Jane was used to the stories of Mario's philandering with many women by now. Who was _this_ woman and why did she need to speak to her about Mario? she thought.

"Let me guess. By the looks of you, you must be one of his whores. Go on," she said.

Bunny was slightly offended by the remark. Who did this woman think she was calling her a whore? She had to keep her composure.

"No! Oh no. It's not one of those kinds of meetings. I don't know him personally. He is not my type," Bunny said. She had better taste than _that,_ she thought.

"It's about my hus..."

Bunny had to stop herself. She could not identify herself as John's wife. It would jeopardize his whole trial.

"Let me start over," Bunny said.

"Please do, because I am about to have you escorted out of here by my security very shortly," Jane said.

"I am a representative of the Dixon Rhodos Foundation. One of our founders, John LeBlanc, is on trial right now, and your husband is prosecuting him. I'm here to ask for your help," Bunny said.

"Ms. Jones, I do not deal with my husband's daily activities. I know nothing about the laws or being a lawyer. Honey, I barely know where he is twenty hours out of the day. You may have to speak to his representatives, ask that woman he's always with. All I can do for you is give you his card," Jane told her. She squinted at Bunny.

Bunny could sense the frustration in Jane's voice. "I came to you as a woman with the hopes that you can talk to him. John is a good guy. You've seen his work, you've met him. I saw in one of your photos. I didn't mean to be nosey. You've seen what he has done for the community and abroad. You're big on charity and can speak well of people. He, Mr. LeBlanc, has not been perfect, but he has changed his life around. He has a family, and he has taken a lot of what he earned and given it back. The man who may testify against him, his name is Ben Berardi. Your husband may be using him against John. We've had problems with him in the past. I don't think he is right to be involved in this case against John. He could say anything that's inflammatory and false. Could you pass that along to your husband...?" she said.

"What can I do? I don't understand where you are going with this," Jane asked while staring hard at Bunny.

"Get him to reconsider his case. Talk to him," Bunny said.

"John LeBlanc. Now I remember him. He's a very handsome man. I've talked to them both, great people, lovely wife. I spent a bit of time chatting with her. She's very passionate. I know his history," Jane said and paused. "I don't think that I can get involved in this. I just don't think that is possible. I'm just his wife. Do you think that I have that kind of power to go in and influence a federal case? If I did have any control over him, he would not be doing this, law, politics any of it at all. He would be home with his family. I know Mr. LeBlanc loves his wife, kids, and the community he works in. I believe everything that you have said to me about him."

She softened her tone with Bunny. "If I am ever called as a character witness for his contributions then I can do that. Otherwise, I am not sure what else I could do. I feel your pain and admire that you had to guts to come here and do this. It takes balls. I wish I could do the same." Jane reached over and put her hand over Bunny's hand.

Bunny knew that this conversation was a shot in the dark and a risk, but the help from here wasn't meant to be.

"Thank you for your time. I'll excuse myself," Bunny said.

"Wait. You still have my card, and I still have your number. If anything comes up, I will give you a call okay," Jane told her.

"Thank you," Bunny responded and walked away.

"Good luck," Jane told her.

Bunny walked out of the building to head back home. She tried to hide the disappointment on her face. She hailed a cab and took it back to the apartment. She had to make it back in time because she knew that a phone call from John would come from the prison. She never missed John's scheduled calls. She was angry. Bunny was out of options and was not comfortable leaving the fate of her family's future in Ben's hands. It just wasn't fair. She removed her glasses and wig and tossed it across the room. She laid back on the bed and put her hands over her face. She cried.

Back at the office, Jane went over to her framed photos and looked at each one. She went over them until she reached the one with John's face on it. She studied it and focused in on Bunny. Her suspicions were confirmed. Jane was not going to tell on her. Instead, she felt sorry for Bunny. How passionate must you be as a wife to put everything at risk to save your husband? she thought. She put the photo down and returned to her desk to deal with the other items on her itinerary.

***

Elizabeth went over to Ben's apartment to discuss the next steps of his role in the investigation to him. He knew that John was going to trial and that he may have to be a witness and testify against him. Ben wanted some aid from them to get him settled into the next phase. Ben was excepting to be put in a better place away from the city. John knew where he lived. He had heard stories of the FBI helping people move the moles and their families out of state into safe houses and helping them get settled. He was expected to get a new name and some cash to limit the paper trail. He knew he did an excellent job. The bugs worked perfectly, the photos that the FBI took when they followed everyone around were clear and precise. There was no way he would not be rewarded for the big case he helped crack.

Elizabeth handed him an envelope. Ben was expecting a check big enough for him to find a place out of the city or perhaps in another state. When he opened it, it was a check for five thousand dollars. He examined the check to make sure that the amount in words did not say something different. He could not believe the gall of them only handing him five grand. Five thousand dollars used to be drug money for one weekend when he was working for Chimera. This had to be a mistake. Ben felt that talking to Elizabeth was useless at this point because she was just a mouthpiece for them, so he decided to step over her. He picked up the phone to call the prosecutor's office and demanded to speak to Mario Pasquale. Pasquale did not want to talk to him, so he handed the call to his assistant, Rebecca Paulin.

When Rebecca answered the phone and introduced herself, Ben went right to business.

"I think you got what you wanted from me. Now I need some things from you," Ben said.

"Like what? You have a place to live and you have your freedom. Your job isn't done yet," Rebecca said.

"I need more money. I have expenses."

"Get another job," Rebecca told him.

"You know I'm going to have a hard time doing that. I don't get a reward for helping you put a bunch of people away? Hey, some of those guys you have helping right now have houses in the suburbs. That Ambrosino guy, look what you are doing for him, what about Galvano? They are living great, all on your dime, and I want the same. Five thousand dollars isn't gonna cut it. That's not even a down payment on a fucking house," he replied.

"That is enough to suffice. We are housing you! Most undercovers share their apartments. You had yours to yourself all of this time! You've done nothing spectacular. You did what you are supposed to do as a citizen of this state. Your compensation is that you are not rotting away in prison. Your compensation is that you are still alive. The point of this entire exercise was that you get us the intelligence we needed, do what you were told, and stay under the radar. But no, what do you do, you go and buy drugs on the street in front of numerous witnesses, you have your kid swallow one of your rocks and it gets blasted all over the news, and that classroom excuse was pure bullshit. Do you know how hard it was for me to keep that story from lingering for longer than twenty-four hours? Do you know how much money we had to pay reporters to take your name and your mugshot out of the papers? You had plenty for them to use. This is not only about you. This is about the residents of the city of New York. This is about the reputation of Mario Pasquale, who has worked hard to get crime off of the street. He does not give second chances and you got one! Consider yourself lucky!

Each time you fuck up, you chip away at your own credibility. Right now, you are in the business of preventing crime, not creating more crime. You will take what we give you, and that's that. You will do as you are told, testify at the trial if needed, and then you are done."

"I demand better compensation; I need it now, not later."

"You don't have a right to demand anything. You belong to us."

"I am a marked man now. I put myself at risk for this shit show you have going on here. You turned me into a rat. We used to kill rats back in the day. We brought down an entire enterprise for you bastards. You owe me. You owe us," Ben said.

"We owe you nothing," she responded.

"Fine then, I won't testify."

"What?" Rebecca shouted.

"I won't. I'm not your goddamn puppet," he added.

Ben did not care what happened to John, or any of the other guys who were in trouble because of him. He wanted to be in the position he felt that he was owed for all of his work.

"You can't do that!" she said.

"Oh yes, I can. Watch me! If you don't pay me what I deserve, I quit! If you try and do anything, I swear, I will let everyone know about your boyfriend Pasquale and how he does business. I will tell everyone how much you two fuck each other because that is what you guys do, isn't it? Oh, the people in the city would love to hear about that, how he used me and the others to make himself look good. You don't know who you are messing with," Ben screamed.

"Are you threatening us? Are you stupid? That's blackmail."

"I'm not the stupid one. Give me what I ask for, and we won't have any issues," Ben said and slammed the phone.

Ben decided to leave the apartment and cash the five thousand dollar check at the currency exchange. Now that John was arrested, he was sure that his days as an undercover were over. He was marked as a rat and may have pissed off his sponsors. Ben knew how this worked. John was going to send for him soon enough.

Ben planned to get on the bus and head up to Connecticut to hide out in the woods for a while at an old Vietnam veteran friend's home. It would be hard for people to follow him if they didn't know his destination. The bus had stops in Connecticut, eventually ending its trip in Augusta, Maine. His plan was to get off in Connecticut and cab it over to his friend's home. He didn't have many people he trusted back in the city, but he had made many connections in the neighborhood, thanks to his local notoriety. Ben told some of these connections, the same people he got a lot of his drugs from, his future location. One of them was his neighbor across the street. Ben trusted that those guys would not snitch since they were dealers themselves that had a lot at stake. Some people honored the code, even if he didn't. He wanted to stay in touch with them if he ever needed to get quality blow from them. He won't bother to inform Elizabeth that he was leaving because he did not want to be bothered by her anymore. He planned on starting over with a new identity and would later send for his son. He was ready to go and would leave in the middle of the night, if necessary. But first, he had to get the money in his pocket. He soon left the apartment.

***

Ben cashed his check at the Currency Exchange and decided to get a meal before he departed. He stopped by a McDonalds on the way to the Greyhound station in Manhattan. Ben stood in line and waited for his turn. A man walked in and stood behind him.

"Snitch," the guy said.

Ben didn't know who the guy was. He was a big black guy who looked like he could be a linebacker for the New York Giants. The man walked closer to him.

"Watch your fuckin back," he whispered.

The man stared at Ben hard from behind and walked away from him. He waited outside of the door where two other men who were the same size as him were standing. Ben's instinct kicked in. These guys looked like leftovers from Jet. He needed a way to get out of sight without crossing them. He was not sure if they were trying to rob him or kill him. He paid for his meal and asked if there was a restroom he could use. The woman behind the counter handed him a key that was chained to a wood block and directed him to the bathroom in the back. Ben collected his meal and went to the back where the restrooms were.

As he walked to the back, he noticed the exit door going out of the back was next to the restrooms. He pushed the door open slightly to see if an alarm would sound. Nothing happened. He left the keys hanging on the doorknob to the restroom and left out of the back door. No one was out there. Ben dumped his meal bag and soda in the dumpster and walked away making sure he wasn't seen by the guys in the front. He kept walking away until he got a safe enough distance away, and he caught a cab to drop him off at the bus terminal in Manhattan.

#  Chapter 7

At the Fresh Kills landfill, the day was typical. The workers who drove the trucks in on a daily basis lined up to dump garbage collected from the city. The pile of garbage was almost as high as the Statue of Liberty. The dirt that covered some of the piles did not make the site more desirable to the eyes. The animals were a problem there. Rodents, feral dogs, and cats would wander in and rummage through the garbage for food. Thousands of gulls would fly over the trash heap as it was their nest. These conditions became hazardous for the employees for many of the animals had rabies. They often had to bring crews to trap the animals if they got too close to the workers. One of the dogs roamed close to the employees who were working at the dump. It was a light brown female lab mix. She had given birth not too long ago as evidenced by her multiple nipples. She had something large in her mouth and was dragging it along as she walked through the dump, not caring if a significant amount of dirt was attached to it. From far away, it looked like a tree limb. One of the employees commented to others, "Look at that over there. It must be that dog's lucky day. He found a big ass stick. Look how he's just dragging it along, wagging its tail and shit," he said.

One of the others replied, "That's a funny looking stick. It looks like meat. I think that's a girl."

The first worker whistled for the dog to come over. "Yo!" he yelled to the dog. The dog stopped, looked at them, and kept going.

"Why are you whistling that dog over here? It may have scabies or something," the other worker said.

"It's cute. I might take this one home if it isn't sick," the worker responded. The first worker got a good look at it long enough to try to investigate closer. He ran after the dog that then increased her speed to get away.

The second worker looked at the other men working there. "Look at this dumbass chasing after that dog over there. Watch it bite his ass. It probably thinks he wants its dinner." The men started laughing.

"Get over here, you little shit!" the first worker yelled at the dog.

The object in her mouth was slowing it down. The worker finally caught up with the dog to see what it was. He looked closer. The worker panicked.

"Hey! Hey, guys get over here. This dog got some shit here! Hurry up!" he yelled.

Other workers looked at each other and went over to see what the dog had in his mouth.

"The fuck? It looks like rotted meat," one of them said. He bent down and petted the dog with his gloves on, making sure not to irritate him so he did not try to bite him for taking its food.

The first worker looked even closer.

"Shit! Are those fingers?" he said.

A couple of gulls flew close to the men who were examining the object. They had to shoo them away.

"I see two fingers. Fuck man, I think this is an arm. This looks like what's left of a tattoo of a skull. Where are the other fingers?" the other worker replied.

"Fuck the fingers, where's the rest of this guy?"

***

After Bunny's failed attempt at Jane Southall, she decided to pay John's lawyer a visit at his office in midtown. Yannay Kohn is a flamboyant, but successful, defense lawyer and legal commentator. His acquittal rate is just as successful as Mario Pasquale's conviction rate. Kohn has been the lawyer for Chimera for almost two decades. Bernie used him when Ben got in trouble in the early years, however, he was not being utilized during the times Ben was convicted. John and Yannay had a good working relationship after Bernie's death, and John kept him on retainer when he reformed the Chimera group. They had also became good friends outside of legal matters, often meeting up for golf outings when Yannay vacationed in Jamaica. When Yannay heard about John's troubles, he did not hesitate for a second to go help John beat the conviction. Yannay had a causal relationship when it came to Bunny. He was around behind the scenes of her introduction into the family and was now assisting her during this time.

Bunny felt comfortable talking to Yannay and needed more insight on what was happening to John. She could not pull herself away from being involved.

"How can he get out of this? That's what I need to know," Bunny asked him.

"Mrs. LeBlanc, first before I continue, I have to say that what I'm telling you right now, your husband and I have already discussed, some out in the media. So nothing here is being breached. Now, what they have is a tape recording, which came from what was strapped on Mr. Berardi. The tape isn't the greatest of quality, but it is his voice. John admitted to knowing about some things, but I don't hear a direct admission. I can argue the validity of it. They also have pictures of John talking to various people from many years ago. I am not sure what that proves except that he knew or just met the other people. They have previous evidence that they composed from the years of intelligence collected by the FBI, which is nothing more than saying that he is linked to Rhodos. The good news is that, well, I don't want to say good news but since his partners Jerome Dexter and Bernard Rhodos are deceased and perhaps his ex-wife too, they can't call them to the stand. It seems that they would be the only others in the immediate circle beside you and Mr. Berardi who could testify against him or verify past activity. You have no reason nor obligation to give evidence against your husband, so all there is left is Mr. Berardi, and I don't know his status as of now. As far as I am concerned, the prosecution is supposedly babysitting him and his family as we speak. A lot of the evidence is heavily dependent on whether Mr. Berardi comes to the stand. I am already familiar with Berardi's rep, and it ain't too clean. In the Ambrosino trial, their star witness was also the underboss, and he broke ranks and testified. I am assuming they got Berardi the same way. They must have got word on your return to the city after years of waiting and took the opportunity to strike because of your influence in the lower income community, I don't know. You guys may be a threat to them. Berardi is a familiar face to everybody, so using him was the easiest way for them to get to John. They may have offered him immunity or early release in exchange for his cooperation, which would explain why he is out of prison so prematurely. They are likely housing him someplace until the end of the trial, when they may change his identity and move him to another state altogether, which is the case for the Ambrosino trial."

"So they let people who had committed crimes, probably numerous murders, out just so they can put away others who have supposedly done the same thing? This makes no sense to me," Bunny said.

"It doesn't have to. Hell, I find the whole thing disgusting myself. These things have layers. What you must understand is that higher facets of the Mafia had control of union contracts, contracts worth hundreds of millions of dollars. The FBI and city officials do not want those groups to control the money, nor the projects the money bankrolls. These guys were influencing elections to get guys into office who were in their back pocket and running makeshift casinos in the back rooms of storefronts and kept the profits. This is how they were able to have hundreds of millions of dollars at their disposal, decade after decade, for generations. The government cannot collect tax money on any of this. The federal government does not care what you do unless it involves murder or theft of their pockets. Otherwise, the small stuff is left to local police. Their real problem with John is that they feel he has stiffed him, which puts a big bullseye on him.

"In John's case, federal prosecutors never charged that he was hands on or did money laundering or racketeering transactions himself. What they said is that he introduced others to people within his organization, the time he headed it after Bernie's death, which then carried out these crimes. He was an arm's length away from it. They are going after bosses and that time in between when he took over and subsequently quit is when they are going after him for. He was clean until Bernie passed, and he took over the wheel. Mrs. LeBlanc, we have to sell them John's story. The whole system of the mob is on trial here. John is just a casualty of the government's blood bath against it. We have to downplay his role in the whole system. John inherited circumstances that were beyond his control. Let's be honest with ourselves here. As much as you love Rhodos and as popular as he was, he did a lot of questionable things. John is suffering because of his actions. When he died, the feds had no choice but to set their sights on John. When John brought in help from Philadelphia, guys who were already on their radar, the target against John became even bigger."

Bunny internally knew who he was talking about. People in the Jet Mafia were being thrown in jail left and right. The government was determined to put them all away and were especially harsh on the men of color who were caught.

"What now? He can't go to jail. We need him at home. I don't know how to be a single mother," Bunny said.

"Don't worry, Mrs. LeBlanc. We have a plan to fight this. One, our biggest obstacle is Berardi and to a lesser extent the tape. The government evidence is heavily dependent on assumption, and I think I can chip away at that. We can discredit Berardi on the stand by using his lengthy criminal record, which may not be that hard considering the headlines about his family in the papers recently. We can argue a witness in this case, but it's hard to argue audio with John's voice on it. He can't deny what was said on there. We have to argue the context. It's not a slam dunk, but we are going to give it a shot. We don't know if the Judge is in Pasquale's back pocket or not. Two, all we need is one juror. Just one to give him a not guilty verdict, and we have a hung jury and John goes home. In the prelim selections, we got two black jurors. I don't want to sound separatist to you but, hopefully, one of these two will give him a break. Realistically, the others won't give John a chance. They practically showed no mercy on the Sicilians, so for John there are a lot of things that need to go right for him to have a real chance of getting out. He's facing up to forty-five years. These new RICO sentencing provisions are ruthless. "

Bunny wiped tears from her eyes. "So realistically..."

"I want you to keep these things in mind. There is one significant charge of racketeering and four predicate acts listed underneath. All of those smaller charges sit under this one umbrella. Do they have to be unanimous in some of the predicate acts of the racketeering? No. The judge informed them that they only needed to find him guilty of two of the predicate acts to find him guilty of racketeering. Juries are tough to read. Sometimes you can't make sense of some of the questions they ask. They asked if they have to be unanimous in their verdict, and the judge informed them that they did not. If they did not agree on one, move on to the next count in the indictment. That sounds good to me but then again, it's hard to read what they are thinking. So, as of right now, it's forty/sixty he gets off."

"That's not good enough," Bunny replied.

"It could be worse. Most of these guys they rounded up are not getting off, Mrs. LeBlanc. It's forty/sixty if Berardi shows up. It could get much better if he doesn't," Yannay told her.

Bunny knew the odds were not in their favor, especially if Ben was out there waiting to testify. Everything that John told her about him and his plans was falling into place.

***

Ben cashed the check he was given and was making plans to get out of Dodge. He knew that the clock had started on his life. Before he left, he wanted to check on Junior for one last time for a while. He was aware that Brenda moved back home with her mother and siblings. He went over to visit her because Brenda knew the whereabouts of Junior and did not relay the information to Ben. He wanted to see his son before he left. Brenda was still planning on how to get another place to live so she could regain custody. She was determined to keep Ben away from Junior at all costs. Ben went there with the hopes that Brenda would cooperate with him and that cooler heads would prevail.

"Hey. Tell me where my son is. I want to see him," Ben told her.

"No. He's with a family. I barely get to see him. He's with strangers, and it's your fault. You don't deserve to see him," Brenda said as she attempted to close the front door on him.

Ben put his arm in the door to keep it from closing.

"Why are you closing the door on me? Tell me where he is. I'm going to see him. I'm leaving for a while but I wanna see him before I go."

"And you are not listening to me. I'm telling you no. You are not getting that information. You have already done enough. You can see him when he turns eighteen or something. Get out of here; this is my momma's place. If she sees you here, she will flip," Brenda told him and attempted to push his arm out of the way.

Ben forced the door open and pulled her outside. They began arguing. The neighborhood was full of people outside. They could hear every word both were screaming.

"Don't push me. What the fuck is wrong with you?" she yelled.

Ben put his finger in her face. "We are in this predicament because you did not teach the little asshole to not touch things that don't belong to him!"

"He's a kid! That's what they do! And don't call him an asshole!" Brenda screamed.

"You know what, letting you fuck me was a mistake!" Ben yelled.

"What? You laid there and took it you lazy fuck!" Brenda screamed.

People who were passing by stopped to look at the commotion. No one tried to intervene.

"Get out of here! Go back to your hoe! You put some trick over your family. You put rocks over your son! You almost killed him! You treat us so unreal!" Brenda yelled.

Ben raised his hand and hit Brenda in the eye in front of the crowd. The blow wasn't hard but enough to leave a scratch and some swelling. Many of them were outraged and were getting angry at the exchange.

"Don't let that motherfucker hit you! Hit his ass back!" one woman yelled at them.

Both of Brenda's arms began swinging at Ben windmill style.

"Hey, you want us to call a pig for you?" one of the people in the crowd yelled.

Ben pushed her off of him, took a look at the crowd, and walked off.

Some of the people who witnessed the altercation yelled at him.

"You don't hit women, man! I'll beat yo ass myself."

Ben was angry and needed to take out his frustrations on something. Instead, he stopped by the neighborhood dealer to buy a quick hit before he returned to his apartment. He did not care who saw him at this point.

***

Elizabeth went to check on Ben at his apartment. She had an envelope that contained an extra five thousand dollars in it. Pasquale wanted to have him arrested but couldn't find anything to justify issuing a warrant. The investigation involving Junior was still ongoing but there was not enough substantial evidence to tie Ben in with Junior's overdose at this time, even though many suspect that Junior swallowed something from the home instead of the school. When she arrived, she knocked on the door. Ben was supposed to be home at this hour according to his orders. She knocked again but got no answer. She had keys. They were given to her when she was first assigned to look after him. She had threatened to use them if she saw there was a justified reason. She opened the door and the apartment was dark. No one was home. She yelled his name once again. No answer. Elizabeth decided to do a quick look around to make sure everything looked normal. As she walked around in the dark, with only the illumination from the street lamps and moon providing light, she stepped on something and heard a crunch. She looked down and kicked the object into the light until she was able to see what it was. As she looked closer, she immediately noticed it was a needle.

Elizabeth was shocked. She picked up the needle making sure not to prick herself with it and saw remnants of a brown substance on the inside. She put the needle on the windowsill and walked over to the light switch to turn it on, making sure she didn't step on anything else. When the apartment was illuminated, she saw that the place was ransacked with no sign that Ben had been there since they'd spoken twenty-four hours earlier. She started looking around. She pulled the pillows from the couches and found aluminum foil, cigarette ashes, and more needles pieces. Ben had completely fallen off the wagon. She walked into the kitchen, looked in the cabinets, and opened the back kitchen door that led to the fire escape. She looked out but saw nothing. She left it cracked because the smell of old smoke permeated the premises.

Elizabeth got on the phone. She called Rebecca and told her what she found. Both women were outraged. Rebecca instructed her to leave the apartment and that they would have to go into their alternative plan with Ben. She told Elizabeth to bring whatever she thought was important back with her. He was becoming a nuisance and needed to reign back in. He was their only chance of getting a solid conviction against John. Since he was back on drugs, he needed to be rehabbed and they only had a short time to do it or else his credibility was shot. Rebecca sent men over to assist Elizabeth as she felt that Ben was a ticking time bomb. The men were to go there and bring him back, even if they had to use a non-life threatening wound to keep him from bolting.

Twenty minutes later a group of men showed up at the building on the orders of Rebecca Paulin. They sat in an unmarked car downstairs. They wore plain clothes to make sure they didn't look suspicious. After waiting a few minutes, Ben was spotted going into the building. They wanted to wait about ten minutes before they went up there to get him. There were still residents of the building going in and out. When the coast was clear, they proceeded into the building.

When Ben made it to the apartment, he noticed his door was open. He walked in and spotted Elizabeth going through his things. Ben didn't say anything. Instead, he walked up behind her quietly and touched her back. She jumped and turned around.

"What the hell are you doing? Are you breaking and entering my apartment?" Ben asked.

"Excuse me? What the heck is this?" she answered. She put one of the needles in front of his face.

"What is this brown substance in here? Ben, you are on drugs again! You told me you were clean! You cursed at me for even suggesting that you were back on them. Look at this, needles everywhere! They're on the couch, they're under the rug, in the drawers, in your bedroom. There's foil everywhere, spoons on the floor. I highly doubt you were just eating in here. No wonder we can't get you to act right. Your son's mother was right about you! Was it really yours? The rock your child swallowed. Was it?" Elizabeth angrily said.

Ben stared daggers into her eyes. "What do you want me to say?" He walked past her to go into the kitchen.

"I want you to explain to me what is going on here," Elizabeth told him and followed him into the kitchen.

Ben made it to the sink and turned around when she continued to screech at him.

"Do I need to? Look around bitch! What do you see here? If you want me to say that I am off the wagon, then so be it. I'm off the fucking chuck wagon! You and Brenda, I swear you women are trying my damn nerves today," Ben said.

Ben glanced behind Elizabeth's head, and he noticed three men in the other room walking toward the kitchen. His eyes got big. He looked over at the door to the fire escape, which had been opened and then looked down at Elizabeth.

"Do not call me a bitch! I came here to give you an extra five grand because you whined about it, but now maybe that isn't such a good idea! You might blow it all away. Ben, this is not only you, but this also is my career hanging on the line and you are making things difficult for everyone. You got a second chance, why are you blowing it?" Elizabeth yelled.

Ben grabbed both of Elizabeth's arms and pulled her in front of him. The men saw his hands move toward her, and they reacted. The men in the living room lifted their guns and fired shots toward him with the intent to hit him in the arms. Ben used Elizabeth as a shield and the bullets hit her in the back instead. He pushed her to the side and ran out the fire escape. One of the men chased him, trying to get a shot at him but missed. Ben managed to get to the first-floor section and jump down to the ground. The man chasing him was too big and too slow to catch up. Ben managed to run away. Elizabeth lied there in a pool of blood in the kitchen with the envelope of money in her hand. The men panicked because it didn't go as planned. One of them went to Elizabeth to see if she was still breathing to no avail. One of the bullets severed her spine. They ran out of the apartment to call for backup.

***

Back in the city, news of Elizabeth's sudden death and the discovery of the missing cop had Mario Pasquale raging out of control. He paced the floor in his office because he couldn't stay still. He had planned on making a big announcement soon, and the news happening at this time was derailing things for him.

His face was beet red. Rebecca sat in the chair in front of his desk and watched him.

"One of our cops wiped out, and whaddya know, the last person to probably see him is our guy. What are the fucking odds?" Mario yelled.

"We don't know if he had anything to do with his disappearance," Rebecca told him.

"Really, we have witnesses who are saying he walked into the building but didn't come out. The cop didn't go anywhere else. We've hit everyone in the building _but_ Berardi. So let's say he went to visit our friend here for whatever reason, and I am assuming that this jackass is still a junkie or doing some other shit wrong, and the next thing you know, some animal is dragging his carcass at Fresh Kills," Mario said.

"They found only his arm so far..." Rebecca said.

"I know, Rebecca. I'm making a point here," Mario said.

"This guy is now a liability. He's racking up a body count on our dime. What he is doing right now is making a mockery of law enforcement and our system. He's doing this on purpose! How on earth are we supposed to get a jury to find this piece of shit likeable? I knew this wasn't a good idea from the get-go," he added.

"It was our best shot at LeBlanc. He is our weakest case. Having Berardi cooperate would have been a slam-dunk for us. It's not about him being likable; it's about getting twelve people to believe what he says about the whole setup."

"Hey, I wanted to see that guy LeBlanc go away with the others, but we have bigger problems right now," Maria said. He continued to walk back and forth.

"Who the hell does this guy thinks he is? He's no goddamn hero! I will not let some gutter trash derail my case or my reputation. Who in the hell told you to talk to him in the first place?" Mario stopped pacing, looked at Rebecca, and continued to yell.

"You were busy. It's my job to take care of these things when you are not around. This was not my fault. He tried to shake money out of us. He's wasn't happy with the five grand we gave him. Elizabeth had called me before everything happened," she answered.

"What's wrong with five thousand dollars? It's more than enough for someone like him."

"I don't have an answer for you on that. I sent guys to get him after I talked to her. It wasn't that long. She told me that she found drug paraphernalia everywhere. The men went there to neutralize the situation, and somehow they shot her instead. They told us that Ben pushed her in front of them. It was an accident," Rebecca explained.

"Did you send the Three Stooges over there? When you intentionally push someone in front of bullets, it's no accident. There were three men against one unarmed guy. How incompetent can they be? They let him run right out of there! They had guns, for Christ sake!" Mario yelled. "Where is he now?"

"We don't know yet. He already cashed the check we gave him."

"Fucking shit! He could be anywhere by now," Mario yelled.

"He doesn't want to testify now," she said.

Mario looked over at Rebecca. "Oh, he will testify. If we find him alive, we will make him testify. He will do what the hell he was supposed to do. He's our star witness. He will..."

Mario continued to pace the floor.

"We need to find him quick. We don't have a lot of time left. We are almost done presenting the evidence we have from the state to the court. If not, we will have to conclude," Rebecca said.

"The one thing I can say about guys like this reckless hoodlum is that they are smart enough to cover their tracks when they are on the run. His problem is that he is too dumb to not commit the mistake that gets him in the situation in the first place. If history is any indication, he will slip up; he will be found and taken down," Mario said. He paused. "We've never had this many issues before and, frankly, I can't believe this shit is happening. Draw up a warrant. Find him and bring him into custody. Send him to me. I'll talk some sense into that goddamn son of a bitch. If we didn't need him, I swear I would give him the fucking chair right now. He's been more trouble than he's worth."

Pasquale stopped pacing and rubbed his hair. His fingers did not go through it because it had so much gel in it. Rebecca got up, walked over to him, and kissed him. She placed her hand over his crotch and rubbed it. He stood there and took it.

"Breathe in, breathe out. You're stressed," she said.

"You think?" he said sarcastically.

"You want us to officially arrest him, on what grounds?" Rebecca asked.

"I don't know. Make up something. Find something. Try leaving the scene of a crime or something like that. We need him off the streets. I don't know; just get him in here now!" he answered.

"I'll get on it. We'll have a warrant ready by tomorrow and arrest him as soon as we find him. We get him here first then figure something out from there," she said.

"This time, make sure you send competent people to do the job. Our reps on are on the line here."

***

Brenda was broken on the inside. Nothing was working out. All she had now was a black eye and no place of her own to live. She had to beg her mother to let her move back into the apartment where she and her siblings stayed. Not much had changed since she moved out years earlier. Some of her brothers and sisters remained in the apartment, but most of them were not working. Brenda had missed so much time at her job at Caldor that her supervisor relieved her from her job. She had to find a new job and show that she had a way to take care of herself. Otherwise, she would never get Junior back. Brenda could not do much at the moment. The black and swollen eye was not attractive, and it was still too tender to totally cover up with makeup to be believable, so she had to wait.

Her anger got the best of her. She had no other place to direct her anger at the situation but to the woman he cared about, the woman who took Ben away from her, who was Bunny. Coverage of John's trial was underway, and Ben had not been located to be called as a witness yet. Brenda watched the news about John's trial, and she recognized Bunny from the photo he had hidden in his closet. John's trial was an everyday headline on the local news, and Bunny was right there supporting him. The news was fascinated with Bunny every time she walked into the courtroom. Her fabulous furs draped her every time. Her every entry and exit were covered by the media and critiqued from what she wore down to her name.

"What are you wearing today?"

"Mrs. LeBlanc, how did you get the name Bunny?"

"Do you think your husband is guilty of racketeering?

"Are you taking over the business if he goes to prison?"

The press coverage had Bunny labeled as the mob wife. Brenda watched all of this unfold from the living room, and it ate at her. Bunny had it better than her, despite the situation. As far as she was concerned, Bunny was the issue that kept Ben from loving her. Brenda decided to pay Bunny a visit the next day. She had nothing else to do. Brenda had a knife in her pocket. She was going to use it if it became necessary to do so.

***

The next day, Brenda arrived at the courthouse with the crowds of onlookers. Police officers provided a barricade between them, the press, and the people going in and out of the courthouse. Brenda had to get close enough to get Bunny's attention. She decided to befriend one of the officers and chat him up. Brenda told him a story of how she had an accident and hurt herself to explain the eye. The officer had no idea who she was, so they continued to chat. Brenda got close enough to the people who were walking out after the proceedings were done for the day. After lawyers had walked out, Bunny and her security guard walked out. John hired the guard to protect the family and to follow Bunny around. Brenda reached out to grab her arm. She started yelling at Bunny.

"Hey, what is your name?"

"I'm Bunny LeBlanc," she said and smiled at the woman. Her bodyguard was about to push Brenda off of her.

"What is your real name, your other name?" the woman asked.

Bunny sensed that this person already knew who she was.

The guard removed Brenda's hand from Celia's arm.

"I'm Celia. Who are you?"

The confirmation solidified the woman's suspicions. "I'm Brenda. I'm Ben's girlfriend."

Celia stopped in her tracks.

This was the first time they were face to face. Brenda could not wipe the disdain from her face nor stop herself from staring Bunny up and down. At that moment, she was still jealous of Bunny because Ben carried a torch for her.

"I need to talk to you," Brenda added.

Bunny was apprehensive, but she knew how to handle herself. Bunny stayed prepared since John was taken away.

The security guard pulled Bunny aside and suggested that she not talk to the woman since she may not know who she is affiliated with. Bunny was curious to talk to her and against the guard's orders, Bunny agreed.

"Okay. I will speak to you, but not here," Bunny said to Brenda while she looked around. She told the guard to stay nearby her just in case. Follow them, but do not crowd them. The guard pulled Brenda out of the crowd. They proceeded to walk away from the crowds of the courthouse. Pasquale was there, and the reporters focused on him once he exited the building. Bunny suggested that they go to the park nearby where there were many people. If Brenda were to try anything, there would be witnesses. John had taught her to do this. There were groups of men and some teens playing basketball and others just lounging. Despite the violence, people who were familiar with the area and the natives still populated it without fear. Brenda and Bunny were two of the natives.

Brenda started the conversation immediately. She went there with the intent to threaten Bunny but wanted to put some guilt on her first. They both sat down on one of the benches.

"I lived with him and our son. We were a family, you know," Brenda said with an attitude.

"I didn't know that, well, I knew he had a son. He told me," Bunny replied.

"I went through his things, and I saw a photo of you that he had and some letters. He wrote to you while he was locked up. Did you write back to him?" Brenda asked.

"No. I did not," Bunny answered.

"I don't think I believe you," Brenda replied.

"Okay, well don't," Bunny answered.

"Do you love him?" Brenda asked.

"No! I'm happily married with two kids. My husband and I had not seen him for years. He came back here out of nowhere," Bunny said.

Brenda inhaled and then exhaled. "For five years, I went to see him twice a week in prison. Some days I took off work to bring our son to see him. I used to spend my last money to take the bus over there. I went through the snow, the cold, rain, and everything to see him and make sure he was feeling okay. I gave him my money so he could buy things in there." Tears were forming in Brenda's eyes.

"I got thrown out of a fucking car for money, and I was going to share it with him," Brenda added.

Bunny was stunned with what she was hearing.

"I do all of this shit, and he loves you! What is so fucking special about you? What can you do for him that I can't? What did you do to make him love you? You're pretty, but I'm his family. Junior and I are-his-family! We've been there all of this time. I had to sit and listen to his ass complain about his old brothers for hours on end, month after month, just so he could get that shit out of his system and focus on us," Brenda said.

"I'm sorry to hear this. I'm really am. I guess guys don't get over when someone dumps them..." Bunny responded.

"I want you to go away!" Brenda said forcefully.

"What are you talking about? I am not there with him, are you kidding?" Bunny shot back.

"Do you love him? Was it real? Did you ever fuck him? Did you? Because that is all he responds to. His heart is in his dick. I know!"

Bunny sat with her mouth partially agape. She did not want to dig up old memories from over a decade ago, but since Brenda felt the need to be cross with her, she decided to let it all out. The guard, who was not too far away, sensed that things were getting tense by the sound of their voices escalating.

"I did fuck him! In 1971, and it ended there. We dated then, and I broke up with him because things got complicated. He was a rebound," Bunny said.

Brenda's eyes got big. She was not expecting her to confess. Bunny continued to talk. "We all worked together and then Ben started doing things. He was on drugs, and I don't like drugs. He steals, and I don't like thieves. He was disloyal, and I hate rats. He stole from his mentor, and it broke his heart and killed him. He robbed my husband's ex-wife. He murdered my cousin Jerome. He killed him! He was like a brother to me. He was supposed to be Ben's brother. I loved him dearly. We all loved him. He trusted and let his guard down for him, and Ben dumped him in a field! That was the same way they treated their enemies. Jerome was not our enemy."

Bunny's voice began to crack. "Jerome also has a son whose only memories of his father are in pictures. At least, your son got to touch his dad. Twice a week is better than nothing!"

Brenda was silent. Bunny kept going, pointing out each of Ben's flaws finger by finger.

"He abandoned his brothers when he was needed the most. He hates my husband because I love him, and Ben isn't half the man he is. He lies to save himself because he only loves himself!" Bunny said forcefully. She paused to catch her breath for a second.

Brenda looked at Bunny and began to get nervous. She turned and did a quick glance at Bunny's bodyguard, who was staring a hole into her with his hand in his pocket.

"Look, I'm sorry about what's happened to you and him, but I let that go years ago. You can stay mad at me all you want, there is nothing I can do about that, but I am not going to let you sit here and put all of your issues on me!" Bunny said in a matter of fact tone.

"Is there anything else you need to say to me, little girl? I have important things to do," Bunny added. The anger in her tone was undeniable.

Brenda did not know what to say. The words coming from Bunny's mouth rang true to her experiences with him. She was having flashbacks. All of the signs were there. She was in total denial. She went there ready to cut Bunny's face in the street if she had to, but now her whole plan was shifting. Ben had mentioned losing his friend Jerome many times and that was one of the things that stayed with him. He had always blamed Jerome's death on other circumstances.

"I lost my son because of him," Brenda whispered.

Bunny had to quickly process those words.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Did he pass away?" Bunny asked.

"No, he is with a foster family. He swallowed a rock at home, and I think it came from Ben. It was crack, and I just know it was his. He tried to say it came from Junior's school. He even blamed it on me in front of the cops. He blamed it on me! How could he do that? All I ever did was love him," Brenda said.

Bunny listened to the words. She put her hand over her mouth because she did not know what to say. Brenda continued to spill her guts.

"When we would have sex, he would just lay there. I'll be riding him, and he would just lay there like a log. When he came back and we did it, he would talk throughout the process, not to me, but about other things, about work. He would say things about what he was going to do. He called me your name once...was he ever like that with you? Did he treat you that way?" Brenda asked.

Bunny knew that this was not the case when she and Ben were intimate. He fully participated, he was okay, but was not John. There was no emotional connection there from her. Bunny thought that Ben would help her get over the breakup from John, but that relief never materialized.

"You're right. It was terrible," Bunny said.

"You know what else? He stole my money. When he was locked up, I had some problems with money, so I had to find other ways to get it. My check wasn't enough to cover everything, and I had no other help. I had to sell my body just so Junior could eat... and he took it away," Brenda said.

Brenda broke down. Bunny reached into her purse to hand Brenda a tissue. She took it.

"I loved him...I thought I loved him, but I don't know now. He never said it to me. I waited, but I never heard it. I don't know what I'm feeling. I think I hate him now. I just want my baby back," Brenda said.

"We can't help who we love. My husband wasn't perfect when I met him, but he grew up, he changed for the better. Some people are not equipped for change. Ben is one of those people. We gave him lots of opportunities. He had chances. He doesn't care about redemption. He's toxic. Don't love him. Love yourself. Love yourself and your son. Don't let Ben take your dignity into the gutter with him. That's all you can do," Bunny said.

The scene turned from tense to an older and younger sister conversation.

"He hit me. He called his son an asshole for getting sick," Brenda told her as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Bunny looked closer to Brenda. She saw the bump on her eye. It appeared to be covered with makeup. Bunny was angry on the inside. She wanted to help Brenda now. She reached out her hand to Brenda to hold it. Brenda obliged.

"I know people. They can help you get situated. They can help you get a place and get your son back, that's if you are willing to let me help you. If not, then I understand," Bunny said.

Brenda paused for a second. She was overwhelmed with emotion.

"Why are you helping me?" Brenda asked.

Bunny took a deep breath. "Because, you deserve some help. Your son deserves help. For my conscious, I want to help you. I have the resources. Your situation is what John and I have been working toward changing," Bunny told her.

Brenda sat there for thirty seconds. "I'll take it."

Brenda took bunny's number and had her bodyguard call Brenda a cab back to her place.

At that moment, a bond happened. This moment was not only Brenda's awakening, but Bunny's redemption. This was a far cry from when she dealt with John's ex-wife. Bunny knew she had the opportunity to make things better, but Ben was still out there causing a lot of pain for many people.

***

Jane Pasquale was in the family primary residence at Gracie Mansion. She was preparing dinner for their daughter. She had spent most of the day with the chefs coming up with recipes for her upcoming cookbook. She had the television on, and her daughter was watching the news for the day to see if she could spot Mario talking to the media as usual. Everything appeared to be normal.

Back at the courthouse, Mario Pasquale was entertaining the media. With Rebecca Paulin on his side, he made a shocking announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we encounter each other again. I asked you to meet me here on the steps of the courthouse where justice is currently being served. As you know, we are currently in the process of putting away several people who have wreaked havoc on this great city for entirely too long. This is due to the hard work that my associates and I have put in to make this happen. With my assistant, Rebecca Paulin, here next to me, I felt that the court of law was the best backdrop to make this announcement. I am here and pleased to announce my future plans for public service. I would like to be New York City's next mayor-elect. This decision was not decided at the eleventh hour but was made with much consideration and soul searching. My experience with law enforcement and the national public with the Reagan Administration will be a benefit to the residents of the city as well as the other constituents I seek to serve. The voices of the people have been ignored by city hall and the city leadership for too long. Crime is out of control, and the economy is in shambles. I think these things go hand in hand. These are challenging times right now but with proper restructuring, we can get New York City back on track, get the drugs off of the streets, and bring revenue back to the city. We will be out in your neighborhoods talking to you and listening to your concerns about the future of the City of New York. My hat is in the ring. I have already established an exploratory committee."

He was running for Mayor of New York City. Jane and Mario's daughter saw the announcement. She motioned for Jane to come over and see. Jane took a loud, deep breath. Her brows frowned at the sight of Mario and Rebecca on television, standing there as if they were a couple. A plate went flying from her hands to the TV, breaking it. Her daughter and chef were stunned. This was beyond embarrassing. The rhetoric surrounding their marriage would be at a fever pace now. She could imagine how the tabloids would spin it. Her phone began to ring non-stop just minutes after the announcement. Her voicemail was full after just twenty minutes.

She walked out of the room and went to her bedroom to get her jacket and case. Jane was livid and was determined to get even. She had enough of his shit. She was going to fuck Mario over once and for all. The first person she called was her hired detective, George O'Connor, for those photos and other information that he may have collected on Mario and his mistress, Rebecca. She was ready to use them. Jane and George met up a couple of hours after the announcement in George's downtown office. He bought her photos of Mario and Rebecca together with her son. He had been following them around successfully for months and gathered a lot of information. George had a theory on the situation and knew that Jane would be livid once she heard it.

"There is this kid she has. Jane, I think this could be Mario's son. I mean, he looks like they guy, and he is constantly buying him things. The kid is quite young, no older than four or five years old. Look, they are at FAO in these photos. I am assuming the boy is shopping with him because otherwise why else would they be in a toy store. He's hugging the kid in the others, and they are smiling. If you didn't know who they were, they would appear to be a normal looking family here." George handed her a photo.

Jane put one hand on her chest while studying the photos.

"Here in this one, they are in the park, the three of them out in public. A lot of people are out there." He handed her another photo.

"In this one, at the courthouse, he has his hand on the small of her back, and it is dangerously close to her bottom. In my opinion, I think that goes beyond professionalism. It's inappropriate. If you are not involved with someone, why have your hands there? She doesn't seem to mind," George said.

"For him to be out there so blatantly and to make such a big announcement with her standing there, whether she is his assistant or not, and you are nowhere to be found, I think it is safe to say that perhaps he wanted to be caught. He is not making much effort to hide at this point," George added.

Jane knew he was right about his assumptions. This is what she had suspected the whole time. She gathered the photos and put them in her attaché case.

"Thank you for your help. I will call you soon," Jane told him and left George's office.

Jane returned home for the evening. Her daughter was concerned. Mario had not called in and checked on her for the day. Jane calmed her nerves and contacted Mario's office. She demanded to speak to him or else she would storm over there herself and confront him. He had his secretary tell her that he would talk to her later in the evening and had left the office. This was not a night where he would be tied up with trial issues, so where could he be? This was not good enough for Jane.

She decided not to go and would wait and see if he decided to call home and explain himself. Why announce a mayoral run without a discussion with her? He already had the support from his other family, and Jane no longer was a factor. Mario had always wanted a son. Jane did not want any more kids after their daughter was born due to complications she had while giving birth. In his previous relationships, they produced other daughters. Those women were grown now. Mario was the type of man who wanted to pass on his legacy and name and felt that a son would do it. Rebecca had that and, therefore, had all of Mario's attention. Internally, Jane put up the white flag on their marriage.

Jane rummaged through her desk drawer until she found the card she got from Bunny. Jane would bring things home from the office that she felt she needed to keep or could work on for a while at home. She never threw the card away. Ever since their meeting in Jane's office, Bunny's situation never left her mind. Jane decided to call her the next day and talk further about some things, but first she needed to phone George again. She hoped to catch him in still in the office for the evening. Jane wanted George to look into this Ben person Bunny mentioned during their meeting.

"George. Get me everything you possibly can that involves the LeBlanc case. I need it ASAP. I need addresses, numbers, and locations. Who is their star witness and what is going on with him? Use your access to get it for me. I will up your salary for it," Jane asked him.

"Jane, that is tampering with evidence in a federal case," George responded.

"I am aware. You are good at this so that means you won't get caught. I am not asking you to steal files. I am asking for general information and some insider info that I can't find elsewhere. You're right there. Write it down, but don't take anything," she responded.

"I want triple my salary. This is going over the line," George said.

"Consider it done. You've already earned it. Thank You."

"What are you going to do with this information, Jane?" George asked.

"Now, I can't tell you that yet. Trust me. Have I let you down yet?" Jane responded.

"No, ma'am. Give me a couple of days."

"I'm going to hold you to that. This is time sensitive."

***

Jane waited for Mario to get back to her as his secretary promised. She finally received an envelope in her office that was delivered by a man who required her signature. When she opened it, it was a divorce petition. Mario could not tell her face to face.

"Fucking coward!" Jane screamed.

She picked up the phone and called George to see if he got the information she requested. He was not in the office, so she left a voicemail. She instructed him to come over to her office with whatever he was able to gather from the case. When she hung up, she studied the paperwork and called her lawyer to discuss further action on her end. She also had to prepare to tell her daughter that her parents' marriage was over.

George contacted Jane and met up with her with the information she was seeking about John's case. George handed her a manila envelope.

"There is a lot of information in there. He's been in and out of jail for years. That Berardi guy is under investigation. He's a real piece of work, this guy. You know that cop who they found his parts in Fresh Kills? Well, they think he also may be connected to that. Witnesses think they last saw the officer with him, and they are looking for him right now. For whatever reason, he can't be located, and they need him to make their evidence stick against John LeBlanc. He has a kid who got sick swallowing something that was in his apartment, and this kid is in family services now. This information uncovered to catch John, and I am assuming they are doing this for the other cases as well; they had to let somebody off. This guy, though, I don't know. I don't think it was worth letting this guy out to put LeBlanc away.

"In the envelope are photos I managed to capture of his records. I could not get to the actual paperwork to copy because it would look too suspicious, but I took pictures of sheets that I thought were interesting. His last address is in there. I don't know what you're about to do with this, but please don't mention me in any of it.," George said.

"George, I would never do that. You've been a tremendous help. Some things need to be taken care of," Jane answered.

"What's going on?" he inquired.

"For starters, Mario is an ass. Wait, you're already aware of that. He has no consideration for anybody but himself, not even his daughter. Do you know she comes home and tells me about the things her schoolmates tell her about her father? Even grade school children know he's cheating. I look like a goddamn idiot right now. This hurts my brand. I've worked too hard at my craft and my marriage to go down in flames. I'm going to counteract this and teach him a lesson," Jane said.

"Well, good for you, Ms. Pasquale," George said.

"Don't call me that anymore. It is now Jane Southall, period, from now on. He can keep his fucking name," she replied.

***

Jane got the card with Bunny's information and called her. Bunny was still home for the day as she was preparing for her daily phone call back home to talk to her girls and her mother. She was making plans for a brief trip back to Jamaica and had to make reservations.

"Hello, is Bunny LeBlanc?" Jane asked.

"Yes, it is," she answered. Bunny was taken by surprise by the direct call. She was not expecting it at all.

"This is Jane Southall. I have your card here. First, before you say anything else, I knew it was you in my office. You are a lovely woman. That hideous wig and glasses do not suit you. I remember you being a bombshell, so the school teacher attire doesn't suit your shape. Second, I would like to meet with you in my office as soon as possible. We have some things to discuss," Jane said.

Bunny was stunned but nervous. She had been busted, so she didn't know why Jane would want to meet with her again. This could not have been any good, and she hoped that Jane had not gone to her husband to speak of their conversation. Despite the fears, she decided to take Jane up on her offer. If something did happen, Bunny figured she could explain herself away.

"Just let me know what time and I will be there," Bunny answered.

***

Bunny arrived at Jane's office, this time in her regular attire. Jane's secretary noticed her from the moment she walked in.

"Mrs. Southall is waiting to see you," the secretary told her.

Bunny was walked right into the Tiffany box office. Jane was partially standing, partially leaning on her desk. There was the manila envelope next to her. Jane's face was relaxed, and she had a slight grin on her face.

"Mrs. LeBlanc. I am so glad to see you," Jane said.

"I'm glad to see you too," Bunny replied, but her voice was unsure. She did a quick glance around the room to make sure she wasn't being ambushed.

"I'm sensing some nervousness. Don't be. I think today is a good day. I've called a press conference scheduled for later today, but I really wanted to see you before I proceeded. It was important," Jane said.

"It is?" Bunny asked.

"It is. I have something for you." She picked up the envelope and tried to hand it to Bunny.

Bunny was hesitant to grab it.

"Go on. It's everything you needed," Jane said.

Bunny took the envelope and opened it. She looked in and grabbed the papers and photos that were in it. She sat down in a chair and looked at everything.

"It's everything you needed regarding your husband's case. You can take this information and do what you need to do with it. You can destroy it or you can use it, it's up to you," Jane said.

"I don't know what to say. Thank you," Bunny said. Tears begun to form in her eyes.

"No, thank you. As a woman, I understand what it is like to be frustrated and have no control of a situation that you did not create. If things were different in my life, if I had what you two have, I would have done the same. All I ask is that what happens here remain in these four walls," Jane said.

"You don't have to tell me that. I never saw you," Bunny said.

"And I never saw you."

"And her out there?" Bunny asked as she pointed to the door.

"My secretary? Oh, we are both invisible to her right now," Jane said, and they both laughed.

Bunny and Jane shared a quick hug, and Bunny left the office. She took the envelope back to the apartment.

She studied the contents and found Ben's last known address. She had to decide what to do next.

***

After the successful meeting with Bunny, Jane prepared for her surprise press conference. Most people were under the impression that Jane was announcing a new venture in her career. She would normally do the talk show circuit but decided that this announcement was different. This was personal to the city of New York. Her adrenaline was still pumping from the separation papers that were delivered to her that morning. Jane felt that a cruel dismissal deserved a harsh response.

When she arrived outside of the Mansion where she had called the reporters to meet, she had pep in her step. She was ready to face the cameras and crowds. She needed to get some things off of her chest.

"Thank you for coming everyone. I know most of you are probably here because you think that I am here to announce a new project with the city of New York as I have done in the past. Today is not one of those days."

Jane paused for a second. She looked down at a paper with footnotes typed by her secretary and read her statement.

"Mario Pasquale, who is still legally my husband, recently made an announcement about his newly formed campaign for mayor of New York City in front of all of you. Unfortunately, I was unaware of the pending announcement of his plans. I learned about it the same time as you did, by watching television in our home. He had never discussed such plans with the rest of his family or me. Standing next to him was a woman whom you are all familiar with. Her name is Rebecca Paulin. She is his assistant and press secretary. She is also the woman who has been having an ongoing intimate affair with my husband," Jane said.

The crowd of reporters gasped, and the camera bulbs flashed with furor.

"It has also come to my attention that Ms. Paulin's very young son may be fathered by my husband, federal prosecutor and mayoral candidate, Mario Pasquale," Jane added.

"The news that my husband, whom I loved very dearly, had fathered a child outside of his marriage with a person who was trusted, brought me great sadness. I fought for many years to keep our marriage intact, including reestablishing some personal intimacy with my husband. When the public questioned the status of our relationship, I overtly defended our union because that was what I felt in my heart. It became increasingly difficult to be a part of his life in front of the media because of his work schedule and attention to the person or persons outside of the family unit. He had other plans for his future that did not include his wife or his daughter. I have been quiet about this for the most part, but because of the increasing interest and chatter about our personal lives in the past few months and the tabloid stories being published with inaccurate information about me, I wanted to call this conference to put to rest any false speculation about our marital situation. I wanted the truth to be known.

"For reporting purposes, I understand that the protocol for addressing me in stories regarding the city and my husband is Mrs. Jane Pasquale and for my business and entertainment purposes as Jane Southall. For now on, I would like to be professionally and personally addressed as Jane Southall," she said.

"Are you moving out of the mansion?" one of the reporters asked.

"My daughter and I are remaining at Gracie for the time being. This is for our safety until the situation is resolved. That is the only question I will be answering for today. I would like to thank you for your time, patience, and continued support," Jane concluded. She left the podium without answering any more questions.

The press was relentless with Rebecca. She was always in control of how the media approached them, what questions they asked, and how it was presented to the public. This time, the scandal Jane handed to them, Rebecca could not control. Now she had to deal with this on top of the issues she was having with Ben.

"Miss Paulin, what do you have to say about Jane Pasquale's statement about your relationship with Mario Pasquale? Do you have any comment?" a reporter asked.

She stopped and stared a dagger at him. "I'm not going to talk about my personal life, and I don't know the reasoning for her statement. Perhaps some people lean on sensationalism, but I will add to what she stated earlier that this is a difficult time for his family, so privacy would be appreciated at this time. And no, he is not dropping out of the mayoral race. Right now, the focus is on these trials and getting justice," Rebecca told them and stormed off into the courthouse to meet with Mario for afternoon briefings regarding John's trial.

#  Chapter 8

Ben made it to the house of his friend, Harold, in Connecticut with nothing but the money he had in his pockets. He managed to get past the swarms of police who were on alert to locate him. He bummed a ride in a backseat of a friend's car and gave him a few bucks for his troubles. Harold owned a multi-family three-story home. It had two entrances, one leading to the upstairs apartment and one leading to the downstairs apartment. Harold lived upstairs because his wife didn't like that people and animals could possibly peek in the windows at night from the bottom windows. The top half also had a porch, which the lower half did not have. Harold also utilized the third floor and used it as extra sleeping areas for his kids.

This area was quite different from the chaos of the city. Ben had not seen this many trees in one area before. Animals were roaming freely around at times, mostly deer and squirrels. A possum got too close to Ben, and it scared the shit out of him. He jumped. He had never seen one up close before. He quickly walked on to the stairs to get away from it. The yards and space in between homes were massive. To his surprise, parts of Connecticut looked like the rural south. He was used to being cramped in an expensive apartment, tenements, or in a shared cell. Ben was as city as it got.

Harold came downstairs to greet Ben. They hugged each other.

"Private First Class Berardi. What trouble are you in now?" his friend said, and they both laughed.

"I don't know, man. Sometimes I wonder if it was it the right thing to even get out of the hole," Ben answered.

"Come on in. Come upstairs," his friend told him.

They went upstairs to Harold's home. His wife and kids were away so the two of them got to catch up on things. Harold offered Ben a cigarette, which he took.

"How come you aren't in the city with your old colleague? He's in big trouble. It's been all over the news. You aren't going to support him?" Harold asked.

"No. Actually, I was supposed to be on the side of the prosecution, but I am not going to do it," Ben answered.

"Wait, you aren't going to testify against him. That's good, right?" he asked.

"No," Ben answered.

"Why? Are you having a change of heart or something? Or are you sticking up for the guy?" Harold asked.

"No, I don't give a shit about that guy. If I can go to the hole, so can he. The issue is that they did not pay me. They put Ambrosino's second in command in a new home, gave him a new identity, and handed him hundreds of thousands of dollars, even before he testified. They gave me five grand and told me to suck it up. Fuck that. I didn't sell out and put myself at risk to get fucked over. I asked for the same things as everyone else who helped, and they balked. I helped them with this case just as much as the other guy. Pasquale's goofy looking ass would not be out there on television boasting about his cases if it weren't for my help. I wanted what I deserved to get. I was planning to grab my son, take him out of that hell hole called the South Bronx, and give him a better life away from that woman, his mother, away from those people. I can't do that with just a few grand," Ben ranted.

"What are you going to do while you are here then?" his friend asked.

"I guess start over. I don't know how much longer I can hide out here. They are probably looking for me right now, and I don't want to get you guys involved. I always want to go somewhere hot. Enough of this snow shit up here. I want to be somewhere like Arizona, or even Jamaica," Ben answered with a grin.

"Jamaica? That's a vacation place. Plus, you can't understand half the shit they say. The government is corrupt because they're friends with that Castro fella, the communist," Harold said.

"Well, I know someone who has a home there. It just may be an opening for me very soon."

"Oh, so you know people there? That's good. Anybody I know? Maybe my wife and I can come visit you once you get there," Harold joked.

"I know a woman who moved there. She lives there with her family. I think I can convince her to let me stay there," Ben said.

"That's some far-fetched shit right there. Do you think you have that kind of power?" Harold asked.

"If I play my cards right with her I can. Now that things are aligned right, I need a chance to plead my case with her since we are friends, but I can with this bullshit I'm working with right now," Ben answered.

"You know, Berardi, I've always admired your guts. You're always chasing unattainable pussy and tossing the easy stuff aside. You do the craziest shit and manage to get away with it most of the time, I guess except for the few times you went to jail," Harold said.

Both of them laughed.

"Well, I don't mind you staying here for a bit, but you can't move in here forever. My family lives here too, and I don't want no shit brought in here." You have the bottom half to yourself. All I ask is to make sure you don't have too much noise down here because the wife will complain, I don't want the cops coming in. If they do, I don't know shit and never heard of you. As far as I am concerned, you broke in here. Don't burn my damn house down, either. If you are smoking anything good you gotta share it. We share around here," Harold said, and they began laughing again.

"It's a deal," Ben told him.

***

Bunny took her time to go through the information Jane had given her. There was sheet after sheet of arrest records, photos of him she had never seen before, many of them when he was very young and when he was enlisted in the Army. Bunny was shocked. She thought she knew Ben fairly well but realized that he had so many issues for a long time. She took into account what Brenda told her. It reminded her that she needed to have Mariana get Brenda into the help she needed so she could get her son back. Bunny got up and went to Mariana. She handed her Brenda's information and told her to contact her and get her into all of the services that she could. Just because John was in trouble didn't mean that she stopped doing her job and helping people. Bunny picked up the phone to inform Brenda that she was directing her to the services that she needed to get back on her feet. It was the least Bunny could do considering the circumstances.

"This is for you. I promised I would help you, and that is what I will do. We are going to help you get your son back," Bunny said.

"I didn't expect to ever hear from you again. Thank you. I'm going to do my best. I don't want to be like this anymore," Brenda responded.

Brenda was grateful and cried. She was ready to get her act together so she could regain custody of Junior and get out of the cramped space that was her mother's home.

When Bunny was done speaking to Brenda, she retreated back to her room. She needed to come up with a plan. How could she use this information about Ben to get John free? she thought. Her bodyguard, a man that John hired who had associations with Jet Mafia, was posted outside of the apartment where she, Mariana, and Jerome Jr. were staying.

Bunny decided to take the address that she had of Ben's residence and pay him a visit. She got up and went to the guard to have him escort her to the apartment.

"Mrs. LeBlanc, I don't think this is a good idea," the guard told her.

Bunny became frustrated. The idea of having a twenty-four-hour guard already bothered her, and now he was trying to tell her what to do. "Look, I know you are working for John. He's not here right now. You work for me. Do what I tell you to do. Just take me over there," Bunny said.

The guard heard the stories about what happened the last time one of them escorted someone and they ran into Ben. He knew that John would be pissed and angry enough to have him wiped out if something happened to her.

"But I am under orders..." he responded.

"Look, fuck those orders. Just come," she said.

The guard reluctantly escorted Bunny to Ben's apartment. The guard knew of plans to execute Ben and did not want anything to happen to her if something were to go down. Their job was to keep her away from the action, but Bunny's persistence was proving to be difficult. She did not always follow their orders, and yet they did not want to upset her.

When they arrived at Ben's address, his apartment was sealed off. A police notice was taped to the door. This confused both Bunny and the guard. The only time a place was blocked off was if a crime was committed there.

Bunny looked at the guard. "Too easy. It was too easy. He's not here anymore," Bunny told him. She was disappointed.

"We can leave here now," the guard told her.

On their way out of the building, someone called at Bunny to get her attention. It was a thin woman whose hair was in a disheveled ponytail. She was from the neighborhood and perhaps a victim of the drug culture of the area. The woman noticed Bunny.

"Hey, aren't you Bunny? I saw you on TV," a woman said. She smiled at Bunny and had a tooth missing.

"Yes. I am," Bunny responded.

"I can't believe you are in my building. I've never seen a famous person in real life before. You are even prettier in person," the woman said. Despite her appearance, she was polite and talkative.

"Thank you. I'm not famous, though," Bunny responded.

"Sure you are. All of the news is talking about you now," the lady said.

"I don't follow the news," Bunny told her.

"I see you are at that apartment, yeah, that was my neighbor, White Boy Ben. He had come back into the neighborhood but the police closed that off."

"You know him?" Bunny asked.

"Yeah, we all do. He was over here for a while with his baby mother and then about a week ago, he disappeared. I heard rumors that he is a snitch now, and he got caught up in something. It might have to do with that kid he has. That baby was in the hospital, overdosed on something. Anyway, ole Ben used to buy bags from my boy over there across the street. They are good friends," the woman told her.

Bunny could not believe her luck. Perhaps this woman could help her get information. Bunny told the guard to stop breathing down her neck and to step back a few feet so she could talk to the woman. He could still do his job if something suddenly happened.

"What is your name?" Bunny asked.

"I'm Josephine."

"Nice to meet you, Josephine," Bunny said and smiled.

Bunny pulled her aside. "I need some help from you, Josephine."

"Sure. What do you need?"

"I need you to direct me to your friend who knows Ben. I'm over here because I am concerned about his safety. There are bad people out there waiting to get him, and I came over because he is a good friend of my husband's. He's like family. The police may take him away, and we don't need that, so if I can get to him first, he will be protected. We need to find him and put him into safety."

"Sure! I will help you, no problem. I have my friend's number who can tell you where he is. You can come to me at my apartment, and I can give him a call," the woman offered.

"Okay, I will," Bunny replied with a smile. She was excited.

The bodyguard's face looked concerned. He shook his head at her. He walked up to Bunny's ear.

"We can't do that, Mrs. LeBlanc. It's not safe, it's too risky. We do not know her," he said.

"If we don't take any risks, nothing will get done. We have almost no time left. Let me do this. Your job is to protect me from getting shot or something. Do that."

The guard walked her to Josephine's apartment, which was down the hall.

When they walked in, the place was in great shape. The furniture appeared to be clean and in order, two kids were running around, and another was on the couch, and yet another on a chair in front of the television.

"Stop running around here! Sit y'all little asses down, right now. We have company," Josephine yelled at the kids. The kids stopped, and they sat down on the couch.

"You want some water or something? We have Kool-Aid in the fridge," Josephine asked.

"No, thank you," Bunny answered. She looked around, and the sight brought back childhood memories for her. The place was not too much different than what she had while she grew up, from the floral patterned couch and matching chair to the picture of blond, blue-eyed Jesus hanging on the wall. It was modest and typical of those who were raised in the ghetto. No one in the apartment seemed miserable. The kids were normal and presumably happy, just as she was. She was not afraid of her surroundings. It was like she was a kid again.

"Move out the damn way so she can sit down," Josephine yelled at one of the kids to move out of the rocking chair they had in the room so Bunny could sit.

Josephine got on the phone and called her friend. He answered. She told her friend that he would not believe who she had sitting in her living room and wanted to talk to him. It was the girl whose husband was on trial on TV. She told her friend that Bunny wanted to speak to him. The guy would not talk to her over the phone but instead opted to meet Bunny in person. He got up immediately and went over to Josephine's apartment. He had to check it out for himself.

Bunny and the guard waited about fifteen minutes for Josephine's friend to arrive. When he arrived, Bunny was surprised at his appearance. His name was Troy. Bunny stood up to greet him, and she found herself tilting her head down at him. He could not have been any taller than five foot one. Bunny towered over him in her three-inch heels, which made her about five feet six. Troy was dressed nicely in an Adidas, a red and white striped tracksuit, and Kangol hat. His bright white teeth appeared to be in order, and he smelled good. He had one of the fattest gold rope chains she had ever seen. He had them layered with thinner ones, seven in total. He had a white button on his suit. It read in red letters, "Just Say No!" It was the catchphrase Nancy Reagan made famous. The dealers in the area would wear items with the slogan when they sold drugs. It was their way of mocking the campaign. Many in the community felt that the administration was responsible for filling the poor areas with drugs and introducing harsh prison sentences for the dealers of the drugs. Some felt that it targeted the Hispanic and Black community. It was their way of dissing the president for the policies they didn't agree with. Troy was one of those guys. He must have been a high-ranking dealer.

"Josephine said that you wanted to meet me. I say it's an honor. I don't mean to be disrespectful but, miss, you are fine as hell," Troy said.

"Thank you. You are very kind," Bunny responded.

"Well if shit doesn't work out with your husband..." Troy said and laughed.

Bunny laughed nervously.

"I wanted to talk to you about Ben. I'm concerned," Bunny told him. She looked at her guard and decided to talk quieter. She did not want him to hear their conversation.

"Actually, can we talk privately?" Bunny asked Troy.

"Sure," he responded.

"Stay there. I'm going over to the kitchen area. You can still see me," Bunny told the guard.

Bunny and Troy walked over to the kitchen area.

"Okay, this is all in good nature. I need you to tell me where Ben is. Before you say anything, let me explain," she told him.

"Okay, I'm listening," Troy responded.

"Ben is in trouble. You see that his apartment is sealed off. The police are looking for him, and he is out there. I can't have cops or anyone else catching up with him and killing him. He's our family. We want to protect him, so we need to know how to get in contact with him."

"He said where he was going, and I told him that I would keep that information for him. We are cool, but why should I give this to you?" Troy asked.

"Because if you don't, something terrible may happen to him and none of us want that. I assume you know what is going on with my husband. The cops are rounding everyone up, and he is part of that. We can't let that happen. I'm sure you wouldn't want that to happen with your friends. There are probably all kinds of law enforcement around here now," Bunny said.

"Yeah, ever since that cop disappeared, they have been all over the place. They seem to think that the cop was over here at some point," Troy told her. He paused. "Okay, if I give you his number, what's in it for me?" He looked her up and down.

Bunny got nervous and had to think of something quick.

"Well remember when you said if the shit doesn't work out with my husband?" she said, raising her eyebrow. She put one of her arms down and had her hand out of sight. She crossed her fingers, hoping that he bought it.

"I'll add a few bucks in there too," she said.

Troy looked at her. He was in lust. "Okay, deal. I need a piece of paper and pen." He pulled out a small black book from his pocket and proceeded to write down Ben's number. Bunny took it.

"Miss Josephine. May I use your telephone?" Bunny asked.

"You sure can," Josephine said with a smile.

Bunny dialed the number and, to her delight, Ben answered, "Hello?"

"It's me."

"Who is this?" Ben said.

"It's me, Bun...Celia."

"Celia? How did you get this...?"

Ben was stunned. He recognized her voice that instant. He had never forgotten it.

"I know that you are surprised to hear from me. I am so glad that I found you. I've been looking for you and when I did, I found out you ran away..." she said.

"I'm glad to hear your voice. I'm sorry I'm in shock right now," Ben said.

Troy sat there while she talked to Ben over the phone. She reached into her purse and pulled out a roll of cash. She handed it to Troy while still talking to Ben. Troy would not take it at first. He saw the sincerity in her face while she spoke to Ben. Bunny pushed the roll of money to him. Troy finally took it. It was three thousand dollars in one hundred dollar bills. Troy excused himself from the kitchen area while she continued to speak to Ben privately. "I'ma hold you to that promise," Troy said to her and smiled as he walked away.

"Ben, we need to meet and very soon. Everything is going wrong right now, and I need to talk to familiar people," she said.

Ben took a deep breath. "Meet me."

"Tell me where, and I will be there."

"Come alone, please," Ben told her.

Bunny paused for a second. "Okay, I will."

When the conversation was over, Bunny got ready to leave the building with the guard.

"Thank you both for everything. You have been so much help. He's doing okay. Josephine, I owe you for your help," Bunny said.

"No problem, miss. Thanks for the stack," Troy said.

"Now I get to talk to him," Bunny said.

"Miss Bunny, you don't owe me nothing. Just wait until I tell my friends I met you. Can I have your autograph, Miss Bunny?" Josephine said.

"I would be glad to give it to you," Bunny said.

When Bunny and the guard left and made it back to the car, the guard asked her a question.

"What was this all about? Mrs. LeBlanc, me taking you here is not part of the plan," he said.

Bunny looked at him a bit annoyed. She knew that somehow this exchange was going to get back to John.

"The plan? Your plan will have John staying in prison until he dies of old age because whatever you and whoever have going on right now, it's not working. You are not moving fast enough. What happened just now was about getting things done. This is how you get things done. You keep your mouth shut. You do not go back and tell anyone what you saw today. If you do, I will knock you out myself. I don't care if you are fifty feet taller than me. I will take you out myself. Take me back home, please," Bunny said.

"Yes, ma'am," he responded.

When Bunny arrived back to Mariana's apartment, she sat down and closed her eyes. Her heart began to race. She could not believe her luck. This was her chance to get Ben to change his mind about testifying against John at the trial. She thought if she could get him to listen to her, he would change his course and get on their side. It was her last shot at getting John free. Bunny was willing to go the extra mile to get it done. Forty years in prison with no parole meant that he would likely die in there from old age, and she did not want her girls growing up without a father. Bunny knew too well how hard it was for her mother to raise her alone. Bunny did not want to be alone herself. She loved John too much, and she knew that prison would break him. She was willing to sacrifice her relationship to make sure that he did not stay there forever. She knew what she had to do.

***

Bunny got herself in order. It was show time and a final shot at getting this trial to turn in John's favor. She made the plans official with Ben with a second phone call and agreed to meet him later in the evening. She was going to take the train over to see him.

"I am going out for a while. I will be back soon," Bunny said in a sing-song tone.

"Where ya going?" Mariana asked.

"Okay, Mom, I'm just taking care of some business," Bunny said jokingly.

"Hey, I am not trying to be your momma. I'm just concerned. How are you traveling like that in your condition? It is nighttime in New York City, and all the creeps come outside right about now, all kinds of stuff happen in the street."

"Haven't they always been outside this time of night? I met my man that way," Bunny joked.

Mariana rolled her eyes. "It's not 1969 anymore. Those guys out there are not in tailored suits and hats. They are drugged-out shells of themselves. They will attack you," she said.

"I'm just kidding. I'm going to Grand Central Station. I'm headed to Connecticut for a bit to visit a friend," she added.

Bunny did not want to be totally dishonest with Mariana. Their relationship as a family had grown tremendously over the years. She was like a sister to her. Bunny decided to share the real details of her visit, just in case something happened to her. She paused for a second then began to talk.

"Keep this to yourself until it is necessary. Just so you know I've found him," Bunny said.

"Who is him?" Mariana asked.

"I'm going to see Ben."

Mariana gasped.

"What? Are you serious? How did you get to him? He's has the whole damn police force looking for him," Mariana said.

"I have my ways," Bunny answered.

"And you are going over there to see him? How do you know this isn't a trap?"

"I don't know, but it's a risk that I have to take," Bunny replied.

"No, it isn't. At least, bring some help with you," Mariana told her.

"No, I am not bringing anyone. I am doing this on my own. I put this together. I started it, all the way from the beginning with him, so now I have to finish it."

"Girl, okay this is me you are talking to. I know you. You will get there and buckle. You are already in a sad state. You are stronger than this. It's the kind of strength that is born out of sorrow. I know. I understand where your head is at. I've been there. Please don't do this. You have children who need you. Use your head. That guy is crazy, and he still has a thing for you. You don't know what he will do. I can't lose any more of my family," Mariana pleaded.

"I've already made up my mind. I'm going, and I am going to be reasonable with him. He will listen to me," Bunny responded.

"It's too dangerous. I don't like this at all. If I don't hear back from you by the morning, I'm calling the police," Mariana told her.

Bunny paused for a second.

"I have to go because I don't want to miss the train."

"Okay, so if something happens to you, what the hell am I supposed to tell John?" Mariana asked as Bunny walked out the door.

"Tell him... I went out like a Boss," Bunny said. She paused and smiled.

Just like when she left her mother and kids for the first time in Jamaica, Bunny hugged Mariana and kissed a sleeping Jerome Jr. before she left.

"Bunny, please be careful out there. Get back here as soon as you can. You and Jerome are just alike sometimes. You make me nervous," Mariana said.

When Bunny got off at the train station after her trip from the city, she hailed a cab to the address that Ben had given her. She was a bit worried because around five-thirty in the afternoon, the area was already dark due to daylight savings time changing. There were no streetlights in the area, and the only illumination came from the lights on the porches and curbs of some homeowners. The cab dropped her off. Before she got out, she made sure to let him know that she needed for him to return to this spot at eight-thirty sharp. She had not planned to stay there very long. She gave the cab driver a few dollars for his services and told him that more will come once he arrives again. Bunny exited the cab and walked up the stairs. Before she got to the top, Ben walked out and greeted her.

"You made it," he said. His face was lit with delight. He was happy to see her and that she actually showed up.

"I keep my promises," Bunny told him. He escorted her to the apartment.

Bunny walked into the room and noticed that there was not much there. Harold let Ben use a few pieces of furniture, and it was just enough to keep the place from looking barren. There was a coat rack, a desk, couch, television, and not much else in the living room.

"Sorry about the place. It's just temporary until I can get something better," he told her.

"I don't mind," Bunny said. She had on her trench coat from years ago. The same one she had since her days at the Playboy club, and the same coat she was wearing when she met John laying in the street in peril. She had it cleaned after it was stained from John's blood. She loved the coat and had worn it numerous times before. It was a classic Burberry, and Bunny wore it whenever she conducted business. She had on a fashionable hat since it was quite cold outside. She took those things off and hung them both on the rack. She wore a crisp white blouse with a flowy skirt that scraped her knees. This was one of her favorite skirts because of the roomy pockets in them. She had worn it many times over the years, even at the time she used to date Ben.

Ben had cleaned up nicely. He was looking forward to sitting down and talking to her. He had not done this in a long time. He put on his best cologne and fixed his hair, which had new, but scarce, streaks of gray. The tattoo on his face had started to fade, so he did not have to use much concealer to cover it up. He had not looked this good since the early Seventies.

"Celia, I am glad to see you here," he said with a smile.

"Call me Bunny. Please. Respect that at least," she said.

"Okay. I'll do that...Bunny."

"I know you wanted to speak to me, but I needed to talk to you too," she said.

"I'm all yours," he replied.

"A lot is happening right now, and I needed to talk to somebody who knows," Bunny added.

"I'm glad you came to me. Look, I'm sorry to hear about John being thrown in the loo. I know the feeling. It's unfortunate. At least, there are visiting hours," Ben said.

"Thanks for the concern," Bunny replied.

'It's gonna be hard with the kids. They are used to having their father around all of the time. They took everything, our whole life savings. I had to leave the kids back home with my mother and stay here while John is locked up. I couldn't leave him over here by himself. Mom is in her sixties, and she had to go back to work part time just to help us out. That's not fair to her. What am I going to do? I don't have my husband anymore," she added.

"Well, I am here. Yeah, he could be away for a very long time. Those guys who are catching all of the Mafia really want to put us all away. They got me early, so I'm okay. I am worried about you. I don't want anything to happen to you. I know things did not work out between him and me. He was a bit difficult at times, most of the time with me, and now I guess we both know why, right? He had all of these secrets going. He was always too arrogant to see the error of his ways. Hopefully, he could straighten himself out over time just like I did," Ben said. He was still careful about what he said about John to her.

Bunny kept a blank face as Ben talked to her.

"I don't want to be lonely. I don't want to start over with someone new. If I stay here, I will have to get a job. I don't mind doing that, but it's hard considering I have been doing other things for a while now. What about our daughters? I don't want to uproot them from their home. Sophie has been crying non-stop since. She misses him dearly. I have to remind her that he did not abandon her every day. What do you tell your child? Do you tell her the truth? She doesn't understand what this situation is. This is worse than death. Death is permanent, you can explain that away. You can tell them that they are at peace. I'd rather explain that than jail. You're never at peace in jail. It's going to show on his face if she sees him. What about the baby? What does that teach them? I don't want her earliest memories of him to be behind bars. Can you imagine what that does to their psyche?" she said.

Each word out of her mouth hit him like a ton of bricks. Ben's mind quickly flashed back to the visits of Brenda and Junior to see him in the hole and how unappreciative he was about it at the time. Junior's confusion during the later visits now made sense to him. Her words opened him up at that moment. Ben sensed an opportunity opening. He always saw a desperate woman as easy prey. He finally got her where he could have some control over the situation without the distraction from John or anyone else.

"I am here. You can always come to me. If you need any help, I will give what I can. I will even help your girls."

"That's nice of you. I guess you have grown up a bit. What about your son?" Bunny replied.

Ben had not checked on his son in months. Brenda did not want him contacting Junior since she was now sure that it was Ben's fault for him getting sick. Ben was too busy trying to go back and duplicate his glory days to fight for him. He wanted to be legendary, and that was his top priority. Junior would eventually benefit from it, but caring for him now was a distraction.

"Junior is okay. He's doing much better now. Thanks," Ben said.

"I always thought somewhere inside of you, something good would come out," Bunny replied.

"That was very nice. Thank you," Ben said, and was genuinely shocked to hear it come from her mouth.

"When I was away, I wrote you a lot, a whole lot, but I didn't hear anything back. John told me he got them and he hid those letters. He was trying to keep us from being in contact," Ben said.

Bunny was surprised to hear this. She had no interest in keeping in touch although she understood why John hid them. Everything John had told her before he got arrested now made sense.

"I guess he did not want us getting along like this. That wine, BunnyWine, I knew the moment I tasted it that it was you. No man is going to be that defensive of some random drink or its resource," Ben said.

"You are the only other person who knows that," Bunny replied. She quickly changed the subject.

"John was going to kill you before, but I am glad he let you go," Bunny said.

"Only with your help," Ben added.

"That's what friends do. Despite the issues, we've all had with each other over the years, I still care. That's how I am. I take care of the family. I still consider you part of the family. We all deserve second chances, and it's up to us not to ruin those second chances. Family first, right? You have to do things, sometimes things you don't want to do to protect the family," she said.

"Right," Ben replied.

"Before things went south between us, I did love our time together. I have to be honest with you. Maybe it wasn't fair. I was on the rebound and ..." Bunny said.

"Hey, that's in the past. I think this is an excellent opportunity for us to start with a clean slate. I'm saved as you guys say," Ben said.

"Opportunity," Bunny said randomly.

Ben looked into her eyes. He was so convinced that she meant everything she was saying. He pulled her close and kissed her before she even had time to react.

When he finished, Bunny was stunned. She would have never initiated it. His kiss was the same as before but with a flavor of cigarettes, which she hated. He smoked before but the taste was stronger. At that moment, she knew that she was being reeled in. A feeling came over her. It was a strong urge she could not fight.

"Ben..."

"What's on your mind? I can tell that you want to say something," Ben said as he looked into her eyes.

"I love you," Bunny replied in a shaky tone.

The words pierced through Ben like a lightning bolt. It felt like his first high. He could not believe that this moment was finally happening.

"You said I love you. I thought you just said that. Did I hear you correctly?" Ben asked.

"Yes," Bunny replied.

"Can you repeat it?" Ben asked her.

Bunny repeated it.

"Say it again."

"I love you," Bunny expressed in a much softer and still unsure tone.

Ben's head was spinning with excitement. He paid attention to the words and dismissed her tone. It was in her eyes. This was what he wanted the whole time. He wanted to be on top and have this woman with him. Bunny took control of the situation and proceeded to put the moves on him. Bunny got Ben onto the floor, flat on his back. She sat on top of him. The scene was reminiscent of the first time they ever made love. Ben was relaxed and excited at the same time. He had a hard on that she felt.

"You wanna taste the real thing again?" Bunny asked.

"The real BunnyWine? Yeah, I do. I remember that," he answered with a smirk on his face. He looked at her longingly.

"Bunny, I love you. This is it for us. We can be saved together," Ben added.

"Indeed, it is for us," she replied.

He began to unbutton her shirt. His eyes were squarely on her cleavage which had increased in size since she had the kids and was pregnant again. While his hands were there, she told him, "Some things cannot be saved." Bunny quickly reached into her pocket and pulled out her pistol. She shot him between the eyes in an instant. He didn't see it coming. The blood splattered everywhere including her clothes, hair, and face. The bullet went through his head and pierced the wooden floor.

His hands dropped and blood spilled profusely everywhere. His head tilted to the side. Bunny got up and looked at him for a second. He laid there with his eyes opened with a grin still on his mouth from the thirty seconds before. It was finally over. At least, he went out with a smile.

Bunny took off her shoes, stockings, shirt, and skirt. She went to the bathroom mirror and wiped the blood from her face and shoes, making sure she didn't leave traces behind. She used her shirt to wipe everywhere else down. She made sure she did not make tracks on the floor. She found a paper bag and put the items in there. She pinned her hair up and put her cap and coat back on. She placed the pistol in her inside pocket, and she walked away from the scene with just her underwear and bra underneath her long coat. It was the evening, so she could sneak out and return to back to the Bronx without being obvious. As she went out the door and waited for the cab to come back, she looked back at Ben in the bloody scene for one last time.

"This was for all of us. Family first," she murmured and left the building.

When the cab arrived on time, she tipped him handsomely. He did not look closely at her. He only noticed the money she handed him over the back seat. "You know nothing," she told him.

"I sure didn't, ma'am," the driver responded. He dropped her off at the train station, and she headed back home.

When Bunny made it back to Mariana's place, she was relieved. It was the first time in hours that she was truly able to exhale. She could not get the scene out of her head. She never in a million years thought she could ever pull a trigger on someone. She now understood the inner conflicts John used to talk about. This is what it was like to be in the life. She walked back in the apartment after midnight to find Mariana still awake. When Bunny turned on the lamp, Mariana looked her up and down. She immediately noticed that Bunny was not fixed the same way she left. When Bunny took off, her coat Mariana knew something happened.

"Should I even ask what happened?" Mariana asked.

Bunny shook her head. "No, you really shouldn't. But nothing bad happened to me. I promise. I'm gonna change my clothes and come back out. I need your help with something when I come back."

"Sure," Mariana told her. She didn't know what to think of Bunny's demeanor.

Bunny went into the room and changed her clothes. She knew that she could not hold on to the outfit she wore to Ben's place. She glanced out the window where she saw a homeless man warming his hands over a garbage fire. She looked back and decided to collect all the items, including the shoes she wore, take it downstairs, and put it in the fire. She picked up her favorite trench coat one last time, looked at it for a few seconds, and added it to the pile. The memory associated with it had changed. The coat that once had John's blood on the outside from his injuries now had Ben's blood smudged inside of it. She took the pile and went down to the street and tossed it in the garbage can. The fire became bigger. The homeless man looked at her like she was crazy. Bunny went into her pocket and pulled out five one hundred dollar bills. She gave it to the man and told him to get a meal and a room for the week.

"Thank you, lady. God bless you," the homeless man told her.

"No, God bless you," Bunny responded. She smiled at him and walked away. The fire from the clothing kept the man's hands warm for the rest of the evening until he walked away.

When she returned to the apartment, she sat down on the bed. While changing out of her clothing, she noticed she still had the envelope of information that Jane had given her sitting on her end table. She no longer needed the items. She had one last plan to launch. She got out her phone book that she kept critical media and public relations contacts in. There were a few she knew she could call at any hour of the day. She used these contacts before to get press whenever their foundations needed to get the word out on their activities to the public. She decided to give the scoop on John's case to the reporters in Jamaica first and give them the entire packet of information on Ben. John was the island's adopted son, and any break in the case that came from there would quickly spread to the news outlets in New York City and beyond.

Bunny returned to the living room and had Mariana call them since they were not too familiar with Mariana's voice to relay the information. They offered her money, but she declined. They spun the story to John's favor. This is what the government was really up to and how the system was set up unfairly. Why let a man who is a lifetime criminal go free and may have killed again, to take down a guy who changed his life to help people. Mariana spoke to them directly without giving them her real name and had the contents sent back to the island via Lawrence. He would handle the specifics of the exchange.

At the end of the phone call, Bunny and Mariana looked at each other, shook their heads, and bumped fists.

#  Chapter 9

A couple of days went by and final arguments were being done by both sides at the trial. This case was coming to an end, and no one had any clear indication on which way the jury was going to sway. Since there was no Ben to testify, the prosecution had to wrap its case against John early. This proved to be quite embarrassing for Mario Pasquale. The case was heavily dependent on Ben's accounts of their activities. Yannay gave a final push for his client's release. He pleaded with the jury.

"The fear of organized crime has brought us all here. Yes, you heard me correctly. Organized crime _does_ exist. We have witnessed the subsequent trials of other defendants who are being charged already. That's been established. I will say to you today is that Chimera was not a criminal organization. What you heard on those tapes only told a very small part of the story. What you heard from those tapes takes place every day, in every corner of the world. A simple conflict between men does not make them mobsters. There is a difference between simple business transactions and criminal activity. You cannot put this man in the same category as the others. There are many people out there who can attest how the company helped them for many years and aided in their savings for their retirement. They have a good reputation. People loved these men. I don't think you can go out there and find someone who would bad mouth my client or any other members, even those who are deceased at this point. What I do want to bring up are the government's efforts to put away an innocent man. The RICO laws give these people, the federal prosecutors', permission to throw out the constitution. Do we want the status quo to start manipulating the constitution? This indictment stinks. For almost five weeks the government has been trying to sell you on these charges. They kept this man away from his family and from serving the community here and abroad. There are many people who are ready to come to you and vouch for what Mr. LeBlanc has done. If the issue is money, he has taken whatever money he has earned over time and gave it back to the people who needed the most. He has helped people who have worked for him get off the street and into employment. Better those guys working than robbing. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, there is no case. Where is their star witness? He is nowhere to be found. Maybe he doesn't really exist. These tapes are manufactured and prove nothing. For a world-class organization such as the FBI, you would think that there would be evidence stronger than what they have shown us here over the course of the trial. Do you want to convict him because certain facets of the establishment see him as a political threat?

Your honor, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I respectfully move for a dismissal of all charges."

Yannay concluded his statement and went back to his seat. The presiding judge gave the jury instructions on how they were to proceed. The judge informed the defense and prosecution that they should remain close to the area in case a verdict was reached. Both sides assured the judge, and he called for recess.

The court was dismissed for jury deliberations. John's lawyer explained to them that since they did not have a witness to verify all of the evidence against him, his odds were looking better than before. John was still confused on why Ben did not show up. Jet had informed him that they had not got to Ben yet. None of this made any sense to John but, nonetheless, he was grateful. For a moment, he thought that maybe Ben had a change of heart. He knew that was a long shot but not impossible. John had a chance at freedom but did not want to celebrate too early.

John was returned to jail while the jury deliberated. He took a nap. The rest seemed short because his lawyer came in to wake him up with some news.

***

Bunny arrived back to the apartment to look for something in her suitcase. In one of the pockets, she noticed the letters she put in before she left Jamaica. She decided to open one of them. She wanted to see what Ben wrote. She was not expecting anything of substance, but her curiosity got to her.

Dear Celia,

I hope this letter finds you in good faith. How are you doing? Fine, I hope. I am still here for who knows how much longer. The days are starting to blend into each other, so I can't tell unless we look at the television or find a calendar in the lunchroom. Life here has been hard. I see a lot of despair and sadness here. My cellmate keeps things interesting. He is crazy. I don't mind it unless he touches me.

I have some things to admit to you. When I met you, I was not always honest. I was angry that you were there at first. I felt that you were taking my job, and I was embarrassed. I know that I apologized before, but I was not always nice to you and I am sorry. I still to this day have regrets about that. I did drugs and drank a lot. I didn't drink a whole lot like John does, but I did enjoy it. I also had somethings going on in my head that I could not control nor understand. I finally got hold of it when I arrived here, and they put me in the program to fix it. I still have some issues with anger and jealousy and sometimes I fib. I did a lot of bad stuff, and I am trying my best to deal with it and correct it.

Being intimate with you escalated the level of our relationship, and I wish I would have told you about this side of me before it was too late because I had developed some strong feelings for you. I did not expect that to happen. I want you to know that I did feel happy when you were around afterward. I was starting to get addicted to you, and I got very scared. That was an experience that I never felt before. When John came back around to talking to you, I got jealous. I was mad because I knew in my heart that the two of you never got over each other, and I wanted you for myself. I started to do more drugs to deal with the stress of the situation, and I had lost control completely by then. I also started eating less because the thought of things going sour between us made me lose my appetite. It was exhausting. I knew that these things were bad but what else I was supposed to do when I found myself wanting you after you broke up with me. It was very hard. I don't want to get addicted to more things and regret my actions. I don't like doing that. I had regret that I let you go, and I was at a loss. Being around you had shaken my physical and mental state. I reacted the only way I knew how.

My emotions and reasoning's were in conflict. I hate John with every bone in my body. Not only because he had the life that I wanted, but he won you. I could deal with losing a rank, but I had a hard time losing love, which was something that I was never good at attaining. I am sitting here in this shithole because of some of my actions. A lot of it very regrettable and hurtful and if you found out what some of it was, you would hate me forever. I don't want that. I am writing to you because the thoughts of making love to you won't leave my mind. The thought of you consumes me when I am not watching my back and hoping that someone doesn't jump me and beat my ass. I hope one day that you would come and visit me and make my day better. I know that you are married to him, but a visit would not do any harm even though he probably would not understand it. I don't blame him. If things were different, I would not let you go either. I know how he feels because I feel the same way.

If these facts about me were what made you not like me as much as you used to, I would understand. It's like finding out that your parents were related or something like that. Those things do not define who a person is, but it is part of them. I want to say that I did appreciate everything that you had tried to do for me before. If I can't have your love as a girlfriend, I hope to one day get your friendship back.

Love,

Ben

Bunny sat there for a moment. Each word permeated into her mind. She felt some regret. What if she did the wrong thing? She knew that Ben had a way with words when it was time for him to benefit from something, but she never mastered how to read him until now. He cared for her but he loved himself more. Bunny's heart began to race. She was feeling restless. She knew that there was nothing she could do at this point. What was done was done. Bunny had to rationalize her actions so she could calm down. She settled in her mind that perhaps this was necessary to save her family. John was the priority.

Bunny took the letters and walked them into the kitchen. She brought along a lighter. She did not bother to open the other one. There was no need to read it. She took one of the letters and burned the corner of it until the flames consumed half of it. She dropped it into the sink. She added the second letter to it and that also caught fire. She stood and watched them burn until they turned into ash. As she stood in front of the fire and closed her eyes, her thoughts began to flash back all the way to the moment she laid eyes on the four guys for the first time at the club. Everything was innocent back then, and she never in a million years thought that her life would turn out this way. Pulling the trigger on someone was never something she thought she would do. She knew that this was it. There was no point of return once she made her first hit. Everything about the mob now made sense to her. Nothing about it was glamourous. It consisted of a series of sacrifices, whether it was the life of a rival or a bit of your dignity whenever you killed a friend. When the letters were mostly burned, she ran the water over it, pushing the ashes in the strainer in the sink. She did not want Ben's words to clog up the pipes.

The room was silent until the phone rang. When she picked it up, it was Yannay Kohn. The jury had reached a decision. They all had to go to the courthouse in the morning for the reading of the verdict.

***

The next morning, outside of the courthouse there were more reporters than usual. The atmosphere was a circus. Celebrities showed up to hear the verdict. Well-known personalities had been at the trial on different days, which made watching the proceedings even more riveting to the public. Two black Lincoln Town Cars pulled up to the curb. Inside one of them were Mariana, Yannay, and Lawrence. The other car had the bodyguard and Bunny. They all decided to pull up to the courthouse together as a show of solidarity. Yannay, Lawrence, and Mariana got out first. The bodyguard and Bunny exited last. They proceeded to walk together into the courthouse.

Bunny had on her sunglasses, and her hair flipped circa 1969 Playboy Club. Her lips were bright red, and she put on one of her classic black wiggle dresses with her four-inch blue heels, John's favorite color. Covering her body was a fur jacket. It was the same one that John gave her over a decade earlier for her birthday. This was the jacket that caused the explosion between John and Ben back at Chimera in the first years. The media was crushing each other just to get a good shot at Bunny as she strolled by. She walked up the stairs toward the courthouse doors like a star much to the delight of the reporters and onlookers who were waiting. Before she made it all the way in, one of the reporters held up a newspaper to her face. She was on the front cover.

"What do you think of this?" the reporter asked.

Bunny stopped. She took the paper and looked at it. She took off her sunglasses. The Daily New York had a large photo of her from her Playboy Club days on the cover with a headline " _The Bunny Mob."_ It was one of the modeling shots she took during her years there. Reporters took the opportunity to take photos of her looking at the paper. Some there thought that she would be embarrassed and ashamed by the revelation of her old job but she never hid her past. Bunny was proud of everything she had ever done in her life and was not about to apologize for it because some people held Puritan values. Every camera was focused on her reaction.

"They picked a great picture of me. My chest looks fantastic here. They don't call me Bunny for nothing," she responded and then continued in.

Bunny checked in and sat down. She wanted to make sure that John was within eyeshot of her. On the outside she was confident, but on the inside she was scared. She did not want everything to end this way. Her heart was sitting in a chair waiting for his fate.

The Jury took just thirteen hours to reach a decision, a lot quicker than any of the lawyers anticipated. This worried John's lawyers, and they explained to him that if he were found guilty that they would appeal the verdict and keep fighting.

Mario desperately wanted a conviction since this would be his last case as a trial lawyer before he officially started his campaign schedule for the mayor's office. He showed up with Rebecca Paulin by his side. He arrived in a back entry way to avoid the crush of television cameras and reporters. This was unusual for him since he sought the attention of the media on a daily basis. This time, the media was not working with him, but against him. He was not ready to answer questions about his personal life. Mario wanted to go out with a bang. A conviction would make his campaign look great in front of the eyes of the voting public as well as quiet talk about his failing marriage.

Presiding Judge Nicholas Carnemolla walked in and sat down.

"The state recognizes the presence of a jury," Judge Carnemolla said.

"We do your honor," the prosecution answered.

"And does the defense?" the judge asked.

"Yes, your honor," the defense answered.

The judge turned and addressed the jury.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the jury. I understand that you have reached a verdict?"

"Yes, sir," the jury foreman answered.

"Thank you. Please hand the form to the court deputy, please.

The court deputy walked the papers with the verdict information to Judge Carnemolla. He looked at it for about a minute.

John sat there blank-faced. He looked back at Bunny and made eye contact with her. She looked nervous but mouthed "It will be okay" to him. Mariana and Lawrence sat next to her. They were there to comfort her just in case the verdict did not go their way. Bunny wanted this to end on a good note. She hoped that all of her efforts were not to be in vain. Everyone on the side of the prosecutor's office believed that there was going to be a conviction. All of the other mob trials except one ended in guilty verdicts.

Judge Carnemolla took another two minutes to read through the paperwork while the court sat silent and waited. You could hear a pin drop.

"Will the defendant rise along with counsel and face the jury," the judge asked.

John and his lawyers stood up.

"Madam Clerk, you may publish the verdict," the judge said.

The clerk began to read the papers.

"The Southern District Court of Manhattan in the state of New York. In the matter of the state of New York vs. John LeBlanc as case number 1:1985cv00121 as to the charge of Racketeering 18:1961 (RICO) Act, verdict as to count one, we the jury in the above titled action find the defendant not guilty so saw we all dated at Manhattan County, New York on this August 9th year 1985 signed by person.

The courtroom applauds. Bunny cheered loudly. Yannay hugged John. John took a deep breath and grinned.

The judge hit his gavel. He was not amused with the celebratory outbursts.

"Do that again and all of you will stay here for a month. I'm not kidding. If you think I am, try it and see," he said.

The deputy continued. She repeated the verdicts on the other three counts of racketeering. John was found innocent on all four counts. John and his lawyers were stunned but ecstatic.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, is this your verdict so say you one so say you all?"

The jury answered, "Yes."

Mario's associates were in shock. "This son of a bitch beat the case," one of them said to another. They sat stone-faced as the rest of the paperwork was read.

They had spent millions and years building a case against Chimera and others, only for evidence to dwindle as the years went on. They had a lot riding on this case.

"All right counsel and Mr. LeBlanc, would you be seated. Quiet in the courtroom," Judge Carnemolla ordered and banged his gavel.

"Deputy, would you now pull the jurors, please," the judge requested.

The deputy had verified the verdict with each of the jurors before they were dismissed.

It was done. John beat a federal RICO case. Ben's absence blew it for the prosecution.

When the court was dismissed, Bunny walked over and kissed John but made sure she did not get raunchy in front of the crowd.

"You're coming home," she cooed. She put her arms around him.

"Yeah. Baby I am," he responded.

#  Chapter 10

Hours after the verdict, John was processed and released. He told the guys in the prison days before the decision that if he were to get out, he would continue to help out when he could. John had intended on keeping that promise. He would have to once again rebuild his empire and repair its reputation. There is a saying that you are not a real mobster unless you have served time in the can or beat a case. He had managed to do both and this solidified John's official minting in mob history. In the middle of the night, he was whisked away and sent back to Bunny, who was waiting to greet him.

When John's car arrived at Mariana's place, he stepped out a free man. Bunny was there waiting. Her smile lit up the street. She walked up to him and kissed him passionately. When they were done, both of them headed back upstairs. Yannay was in the car with him to make sure that the transfer went smoothly. Bunny walked them both in.

Mariana greeted them when he walked in. The two women surprised him with balloons and BunnyWine drinks. Mariana had Yannay sat down on the couch while Bunny and John talked to each other.

"This is finally over we can go back to normal. I can't wait to go home," Bunny said.

"Me too. I miss the sun," John answered.

He paused. "I am happy to be out, don't get me wrong, but I seriously wonder what happened to Ben. I am sure the asshole would not have missed an opportunity to put me away," he said.

Bunny stayed quiet and took a small sip of wine. She could not drink too much. It would be bad for their unborn son. She was going to tell him the news once they made it back.

"I would feel better if I knew," he added.

"Stop worrying. It's over," Bunny insisted. "Whatever happened to him, I'm sure he deserved it. Bernie picked you because you were the only one who would be able to take a hit and come back. You were the strongest one, you bounced right back. You beat the evil feds," Bunny told him.

"I guess," John said.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm a little tired. Being in there took a lot out of me. I need a real vacation. I want to sleep in a real bed and eat some real food."

"Well, we will go back home soon. The girls can't wait to see you. Until then, you can sleep on me," Bunny said and winked.

John smacked her behind as she walked away.

John's acquittal was front page evening edition news in Jamaica. The crowds celebrated. The verdict came out around the same time that the newspapers published the scoop that they received from Bunny and Mariana. The shock and awe of the last forty-eight hours had the entire island talking. The scale of political corruption was astounding. They felt that all of their prayers worked. Agnes's phone back at the family home rang non-stop. She almost stopped answering it but continued until a call from Bunny came through to deliver the good news. Agnes was relieved that both of them would be returning home soon. Bunny had already talked to Sophie and promised that she and daddy will be home to hug them soon.

News of the information disclosure made it back to the states. All of the major channels reported the leak as the top story in the evening broadcast. Mario Pasquale's tactics that were used in John's case were exposed. This put another cloud over his mayoral campaign. All of Ben's photos were publicized everywhere. His participation as a witness was also exposed. This sent Pasquale's office into a tailspin. Rebecca had to find a way to spin the story of Ben's involvement, Elizabeth's murder, and the missing cop investigation. After an extended all-night discussion on what to do next, Mario Pasquale decided to temporarily suspend his campaign. John's trial was supposed to be his last conviction, and he had planned to use it as a selling point of his accomplishments to the public. Instead, the public cheered John's acquittal and celebrated him beating an unfair system.

The story had spread to national news and threw John and Bunny into celebrity stardom as a power couple virtually overnight.

***

Harold and his family made it back from vacation. It had been a week since they had left Ben alone. When he arrived, he knew that something wasn't right. He knocked downstairs to see if Ben was there but there was no answer. The lights were on, so Harold thought it was strange. Harold did not like wasting electricity, so he thought that he would let Ben know to turn off the lights if he left the house. When Harold walked into the place, he put his hand over his mouth. Something was rotten. He walked farther and noticed Ben right away. He walked up closer to see that Ben was long gone. Harold felt sick to his stomach and didn't know what to do. He knew that he could not stay there because he did not want to be indicated in Ben's situation. He made the sign of the cross and left. He locked up the door and went upstairs to call the police. He told them that his neighbor had not been seen in days, and he needed someone to go down there and check on him.

When the authorities arrived, they burst into the apartment and immediately noticed a foul smell coming from inside of the place. The smell had made its way outside. After several knocks on the door, a police officer burst the door down to find Ben dead. Decomposition had already begun. The blood on the floor had turned into dark red-colored goo. The officer walked closer to the body and saw the bullet between his clouded eyes. The officer radioed for backup. It was obvious that the person was deceased, so he carefully walked over to check his pockets making sure to not step on possible evidence and blood. The officer pulled out Ben's wallet and looked at his ID.

He radioed again. "I think we've found our guy. He's been executed. He's been here for some time."

News of the discovery of Ben's body made it back to the authorities in the city. When his identity was confirmed the news made it to the district attorney's office where Pasquale learned of the death of Ben. Once the investigators finished combing the scene, they transferred his corpse to the New York County morgue at the request of the coroner's office. When Ben's body arrived back in New York, Pasquale went to check that Ben was neutralized. Pasquale looked at Ben's body with disgust. Ben had ruined all of his plans for now, but Mario was determined to run again in the future.

They opened the drawer and Ben's body was there, white as a sheet of paper. The hole in his forehead had the only presence of color left besides his hair. "It's him. Dispose of this trash," Mario said and walked away.

Once he confirmed it, he left and gave permission for the county morgue to contact next of kin.

***

The authorities telephoned Brenda and told her the news. She gasped. She was sad for a brief moment but regained her composure.

She told them, "I'm sorry to hear that" and hung up.

When the phone call was over, she let the news sink in.

Brenda thought back at the moments when she was silly, young, and how much time she devoted to getting him to love her. She thought about how much time she lost sleep waiting for him to return to the apartment at times. Hearing of his passing did not shake her as she thought it would. It was inevitable. On the inside, Brenda knew that she stayed because she thought she could save him. He had made too many enemies, broke too many people's hearts, as well as abused his own to survive. Her rage was fueled by jealousy, not because of a deep connection to him, but what she thought being joined to him brought. She wanted the stable life, a happy life, but she didn't need him for that anymore. She decided to put that energy into loving herself and her son and that moving on was the best way for both of them to heal. The help that Bunny gave her put her back on track.

Brenda started a job and housing program that was being run by the Dixon Rhodos foundation. She would be their first true success story in New York City. Brenda never touched drugs again after Junior's incident. She decided to make a change in her life and focus her energy on making sure that Junior was taken care of properly and knew that he was loved. She looked over at Junior, who was playing with his trucks. This was the moment things could change for her and her child. Brenda no longer had to live in fear. She felt a sense of relief now. She went over to Junior, picked him up, and hugged him tightly.

"We're gonna be okay. Dada is not coming back. He's going to play with God now," she said to him.

Junior seemed confused for a moment. He could not grasp the concept of loss or death. All he knew was that it was the same feeling he had when he stopped seeing his grandmother. Brenda told him that she went on a long trip and that he would not be seeing her anymore. Soon after she told him the news, he relaxed because of the reassurance and calmness from his mom. He responded with a giggle in return. She kissed him on the cheek. "That's my big boy."

Brenda never went to identify Ben's body nor claim it. Ben was eventually buried on Heart Island, the Potter's field right off the coast of the Bronx. He laid where countless others who left the world unclaimed or unidentified rested. It seemed poignant since he sought so much approval from the area. The Bronx, the same place that first tortured him, later praised him and then chased him away for good is now where he rested. He died a hero to the hopeless and with a smile on his face. It was the end of an era. Ben was a strong man whose experience taught him how to beat the laws of decency, but his weakness was what led him to get clipped, wanting something that was not meant for him and that something was attached to a woman. The love, the power she married, all belonged to her. There were rules to this game, and you were to never break them unless you were ready for the consequences. Bunny's existence broke them all from the moment she appeared. Her presence exposed the tiny cracks in what was supposed to be a sound foundation of made men. It made one man better and drove the other one mad.

***

Mariana said goodbye to John and Bunny. They begged her to join them once again in Kingston. Bunny felt that she would do so well there. Mariana declined.

"My work is needed here. We will come and visit you often. I promise," Mariana said and gave them both hugs. Bunny and John rode away and headed back home to their kids.

On the way to the airport, Bunny and John loaded the taxi. She took a piece of paper and balled it up and tossed it into the wastebasket. The ball of paper went in perfectly.

"Nice shot. Your aim has improved...in everything," he said. He gave her a look.

Bunny smiled in a way that one would if they were found out. She knew he was trying to get information out of her.

"Not quite. My long distance shot still needs work," she replied.

"I know. Good job. You are an excellent student," he said, then picked up her hand and kissed it.

Bunny began straightening his necktie. "So are you. Bernie picked you for a reason and this was it. Only the strongest one survived," Bunny said and looked right into his eyes.

John stared at her for a second and raised his eyebrows.

"Let's go home. The people are waiting, and I have some news for you," Bunny replied.

As they were leaving New York City, a reporter who managed to find out where John was staying, walked up to them.

"Hey, John, can I get a quick interview?" the reporter asked.

"I can't right now. I'm with my family. I can arrange something later on," John said.

The reporter understood. John gave him a card. The reporter got out one last question before the car they were taking left.

"One quick question before you go. I know you and Mrs. LeBlanc are relieved that you were exonerated and both of you have made good efforts in the community. I must say, Mr. LeBlanc, not to diminish your victory, but we have all seen this before. How much of the life did the both of you really leave behind?"

John turned around, gave him a look, and a smirk.
