The Return of the Don

By David Healy

Frank Antonelli was once the most powerful Mafia Boss in America. After nearly three decades in prison, he is returning to a new world. Everything changed while Frank Antonelli was away. Now the Don is back, looking to regain his power. However, the FBI, new gangs, and the Russian Mafia stand in his way.

The Return of the Don i

• Language: English
• Publisher: David M Healy
• Release date: Aug 21, 2021
• ISBN: 9781087907888

David Healy

David Healy is Professor of Psychiatry at Cardiff University in Britain and a former Secretary of the British Association for Psychopharmacology. He is the author of books including Let Them Eat Prozac: The Unhealthy Relationship Between the Pharmaceutical Industry and Depression, The Antidepressant Era, and Mania: A Short History of Bipolar Disorder.

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The Return of the Don

By: David M Healy

© Copyright 2021 David Healy. All rights reserved.

For my father, who passed his love of reading on to me.

The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any events, locations, or actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Any resemblance to real events or people is unintentional.

1.

Special Agent Bill Armstrong had his shirt sleeves rolled up, standing in front of the whiteboard in his office. Standing at 6’3", he stood slightly higher than the board, but his blue eyes stared intently fixed over his narrow nose, looking lower. On the board, Special Agent Armstrong had pictures and notecards. But, his eyes were focused on the picture in his hand.

Mapped out on the board was the FBI’s record of the controlling figures of the criminal underworld in Philadelphia. There was Eddie Zhao, the Gomez Brothers, Deontay Lincoln, John Marcello, and up top, showing control of most areas, Michail Ivanov.

You can put that down. Alex said, pointing to the picture in Bill’s hand. She leaned forward in her chair and lifted her arms in the air, we got it.

Special Agent Alexandra Caruso had been partners with Bill Armstrong in the Philadelphia office of the Bureau for 10 years now. He was the Senior Agent, having been with the FBI for 36 years compared to her 14. She listened to him when he had theories or thoughts. But, in this instance, she felt he was blinded by his own experiences. Blinded by nostalgia and believing the mythological hype that had been floating around for years.

I’m not sure, Alex, Bill responded. He tapped the picture he was holding with his index finger and then waved his hand in front of the whiteboard. All of this was his.

Was his. That’s the key, ‘was’. It hasn’t been for nearly three decades. Alex responded, standing from her chair in excitement. Bill always found it amusing that at 5’3, she would stand toe to toe with anyone including him, who stood a foot taller than her. She then added in a tone that indicated to him her belief that she was right, You put him away. He’s been done for a long time.

The picture in his hand was of Frank Antonelli, who for 13 years served as the most powerful figure in organized crime- controlling all the narcotics, sex trade, gambling, loan shark operations, unions, and more as the Boss of the Cataneo Crime Family. Before Bill’s hair went grey on the sides, back when it was a bright blonde, Frank Antonelli had controlled everything that was now showing divided up on the whiteboard in front of them. He had full control until he was convicted on RICO charges 25 years earlier. Special Agent Bill Armstrong was the lead man from the bureau on the case. The conviction that made his career.

Think about it, Alex continued Johnny Marvelous has been running the Family for nearly 15 years. It’s completely different. Besides, why would ‘The Don’ want to return? He’s damn near 80!

He’s 68. Bill shot back. Alex immediately regretted the comment. Bill was now 60 and had been very conscious of that fact since his birthday.

You’re right. But, why would Marvelous hand over what is his? Alex asked challenging the overall theory.

Her olive oil skin tone and brown eyes both always seemed to grow a bit darker, and her rich Italian features seemed to show more as she debated.

Do you believe John Marcello could stop Frank Antonelli from taking it back if Antonelli wants it? Bill asked sharply, not expecting an answer but making a point while gesturing to John Marcello a.k.a. Johnny Marvelous’ picture on the whiteboard.

Fair point… if he is still the same… if he still has the muscle. We know Marvelous is not a wartime consigliere. Alex answered. Bill was shocked by her use of the famous quote. She then added, But, ‘The Don’ has the money to do what he wants. You guys never did find it.

She regretted it the moment she said it. The $25 million that Frank the Don Antonelli was rumored to have hidden added to his lore and growing legend. A point that Bill had to hear about for years.

Then why doesn’t anyone know he’s getting out? Why has it been such a secret? He’s planning something. There’s a reason he’s a legend. There’s a reason he was so feared. There’s a reason he ran it all. There’s a reason they nicknamed him the Don. We need to be aware and alert of the return of Frank Antonelli.

Alright Bill, Alex started getting ready to remind Bill of how the world had changed. She was ready to remind him of 9/11 and how the focus of the FBI had shifted to terrorism and cybercrimes. The organized crime division was the smallest it had been since its inception. She decided not to and instead said, We should be alert. But, it’s not the same world he left. Everything has changed. Ivanov and the Russians are the big dogs now. She pointed at the picture of Michail Ivanov a.k.a. Ivanov the Terrible, the head of the Russian mob, on the whiteboard.

Bill took a look at the board then down to the picture in his hand. I think the world is about to change even more.

Phil Conti sipped his coffee and glanced at the street, looking out in both directions. In all his years in the business, this was the first time he had been asked to meet with both of the Family’s Capos. He had been in rooms with both of them before, such as when the books opened and he was initiated as a made member. But, never a private meeting with both Joe Muratori and Anthony Lucca. Nor had he ever been asked to block out the day and keep it to himself. Nor has he ever been asked to meet at 4 AM. No, something was definitely up.

Phil just sat and waited. He was seated at the patio table on the sidewalk in front of his business, Conti family sausage. The street was empty. He looked at his watch, 3:57 AM. He knew they would be there soon. Joe Muratori was never late. Instinct had him alert, looking around to see if something was off. This didn’t fit the profile for a hit. But, how many guys that aren’t around anymore thought that?

His gut told him this was something else. Something big. Just what it could be, he wasn’t sure. But, both Capos signaled significance to him.

The headlights of the black Lexus GS 350 cut through the darkness, alerting him they were approaching.

The car pulled up along the curb and he noticed that both Joe and Anthony were in the front seats. That was a good sign. Not only did it tell him that they were not planning to kill him, but they trusted him. They were willing to let him be behind them and there wasn’t another soldier in the car.

Phil climbed in the backseat and Anthony said, Good morning, sunshine. There ain’t no fucking sunshine. This shit is for the bats, not the birds. Joe interjected. The three then laughed. Joe then pulled away from the curb and they started to drive off.

The buzzing and bell-like chime on Lucy Armstrong’s cell phone alarm started going off, startling her awake. As she reached to turn it off, she could hear Sal grumble no! He hated mornings. She knew this. He knew she knew this. He loved nights with her but hated waking up because in the morning they were back to the secret relationship.

She turned off the alarm and slid back under the covers, pressing her naked body up against his. She gently rubbed his chest with her hand. Her touch always put him at ease. He melted at her tenderness. She loved him, and he loved her, there wasn’t any doubt. He wanted more. She wanted more.

They had been seeing each other, quietly, for the last two years. There were times that neither one of them wanted to keep it quiet anymore. But, they kept from making any announcements. They resisted as they weren’t sure how it would affect their families and their careers.

They were both attorneys at the law firm of Leno and Franklin. Sal, at the age of 37, was now in his 12th year with the firm. He had aspirations. If he wanted to make partner, he couldn’t have any missteps. Lucy, at the age of 30, was in her fourth year. She also had aspirations and she had intense focus. They would go public when they knew it could not be used against them. But, then would be the issue of telling their families.

Sal didn’t think it would be an issue. He assured her that his family didn’t matter. He had been out of contact with them for a long time. However, he did jokingly offer to run off to Las Vegas and marry her first if it would make it more difficult for her father to object to their relationship.

Who would have thought at the age of 30, living on her own, having a career that she would still worry about her father’s approval? But, she knew it wasn’t a normal relationship. After all, she was Lucy Armstrong, daughter of FBI agent Bill Armstrong. He was Sal Antonelli, son of legendary mobster Frank Antonelli.

2.

The buzzer rang through Westchester penitentiary and the steel bar door of cell 817 opened. Frank Antonelli stepped out of the cage that had been his home for the last 25 years. The corrections officer motioned for Frank to start heading to an elevator at the end of the hall.

Eddie Zhao and his crew had another late night. This was the price of building their organization to where it needed to be. As the leader of the Golden Dragons, he had a vision and with that vision came expectations of all who worked for him. Eddie started the Golden Dragons himself. He started as a small-time dealer of pills and weed. As he saw more opportunities, he expanded. He recruited from the Asian community to build the Golden Dragons to be more than a common gang. First, they expanded their reach. Then they moved into cocaine. As the money flowed in, they expanded to the bootleg market- knock-off purses, copies of movies still in theaters, DVD copies, designer imposter clothes, and stolen electronics.

He then started to bring new members in straight from China, illegally smuggling them in on freight ships. He would get young men who wanted to be in America and in exchange they worked for him. Through this, he saw an opportunity for women wanting to come to America. He was able to accommodate their request if they would work in elicit massage parlors he opened.

Over the last 12 years, he had grown his business into an organization. His greatest thrill was opening the Golden Dragon Chinese restaurant. It was a nice establishment, decorated luxuriously. He brought the staff straight in from China, able to get work visas for them by pulling strings. The cost was low, the margins were high. The profits gave him a clean stream of money that he could use. The business provided a place for the women who grew past the desired age at the massage parlors to continue to work. It also allowed him to build an office in the back.

Once a month, on an early morning like this- a late night for him and his crew, they would meet at the restaurant. The Golden Dragon would be open to only the Golden Dragons. They were able to eat and cover business. It was his token of appreciation and a management tactic to keep people loyal.

They had a long night, but they were all smiles and jokes as they were arriving at the restaurant. Eddie stepped out of his Toyota Camry and glanced around in pride. He started this all by himself. He started alone in an area that was one time rumored to be controlled by the Mafia. And now, he was running a full organization through it.

It added to his pride that he was able to open the restaurant to his crew exclusively. Anything they wanted from the menu would be served as they discussed business. He would be able to treat them like VIPs. He was able to do more for them and give them a better life than his parents ever had as immigrants. He went from baggy jeans and cheap T-shirts to tailored slacks and dress shirts. Hell, he thought, his watch cost more than his parents made in their first year in America, working multiple jobs.

Eddie was the last to enter the restaurant. The tables had been pushed together and plates were laid out. The crew was all standing around the tables talking. Eddie looked around and noticed he didn’t see any of his waitresses as he scanned the restaurant. Suddenly, he had a sinking suspicion that something was wrong. He felt anxiety set in. He tried to see if he could see or hear anything in the kitchen but the door was closing and it was too noisy from the talking. He then noticed someone running away from the door on the outside. He ran to the door to open it and it wouldn’t budge.

The Golden Dragons noticed him running to the door and became alert. They were trying to understand what was happening. Before they could process what was going on, the kitchen doors started to open, and masked men with machine guns were running out.

The masked men moved in a synchronized fashion, spreading out and taking aim. They opened fire, pumping The Golden Dragons with bullets. Some of the Golden Dragons tried to pull out guns but were cut down before they could respond.

When it started, it appeared to be in slow motion to Eddie. He felt like he was frozen in a nightmare, watching the masked men charge out and systematically eliminate his crew. Before he could truly process what was happening, he felt an explosion in his left shoulder and then the right side of his abdomen. He didn’t even realize he had fallen to his knees until he felt like something ripped his throat into two. Next thing he knew he was seeing a blurry image of the ceiling. It was the last thing he’d see.

The guards at the Westchester penitentiary escorted Frank Antonelli to a room where he was able to change out of his prison-issued clothes and into the clothes he arrived in 25 years earlier. He was able to shed the look of inmate 692017 and slipped back into the navy blue suit he wore the day he was brought in. He was older now. It didn’t fit the same. It had been tailored to fit him perfectly then. But, he didn’t carry the muscle he used to. He kept himself in decent shape while he was locked up. He was smaller, so the suit was a bit loose. He expected this. He knew it was temporary. It too would soon be gone and he would soon be free.

If you were a Marijuana dealer, there was a good chance that you would get your supply from the Gomez Brothers. Carlos and Juan Gómez came to America from Colombia as children. Their parents brought them to America in search of a better life. As devout Catholics, their parents believed that through prayer and sacrifice, they would be able to create the best life possible for their children. They believed America was the land of opportunity. To them, America was a land of money waiting to be earned. Their mother, Stella, worked cleaning hotels. Their father, Tito, went to work as a landscaper. With two children, they quickly realized that their honest jobs did not give them all they needed. Stella picked up more work sewing on evenings and weekends. Tito picked up a newspaper route before work. They worked long hours. They were hard workers and found themselves worn out, too tired to do much with their free time. This left an impression on their children.

Carlos and Juan had trouble adapting to school. English was not their natural language. Their struggles caused other kids to seize the opportunity to tease them. They were teased about their intelligence, even though they were learning in a second language. They were teased about being poor. They were harassed about not being American. Their family’s financial struggles would have been eliminated if they had a dollar for every time they heard someone tell them to go back to your own country.

All of this, while seeing their parents have their dreams crushed by reality left Carlos and Juan hating America. Through music and movies, the brothers opened their eyes to a new world. A world that they could create their success. All they had to do was break the rules. Society frowned on selling marijuana. However, it was a substance that several people enjoyed. Some would even argue that it was a harmless substance. So the brothers began by putting together their money to buy a couple of ounces of weed. They rolled up joints, selling them individually to other kids. With the money they made, they purchased more and sold it. Their customer base was slowly expanding. They made a decent profit on the sales. But, they realized the only way to get real money was to keep moving more.

They kept investing the profits back in to buy more so they could sell more. The process was working. They were building a customer base and scored their reputation as serious men of business when a rich kid who used to tease Carlos tried to not pay. Carlos and Juan beat him to death in an alley, then left the body. The word spread, ensuring they no longer had problems with people not paying.

However, Juan realized they were missing a clear sign. The money came in from the more they moved. This was because they were dealing in small quantities. Bigger quantities could equal more money. And, bigger quantities meant they can make less individual sales, meaning less risk and exposure.

At this point, the brothers began to be suppliers. They started to buy by the pound. They would sell to those they were willing to buy larger amounts. But, mainly they began to supply small-time dealers like they were. They knew who the other small dealers were, they were their competition at one point. Now, they approached these small-time dealers to partner with them by becoming their suppliers. They were willing to take a slightly lower profit to increase the number of dealers buying from them. It was a long-term strategy that paid off.

Over time, they began to take trips to the Mexican border buying larger amounts and began to cut out their previous source. This obviously was not appreciated by their supplier. He did not intend to stop being the source for the suppliers. He tried to take the brothers out with a drive-by shooting on their house. However, neither Carlos nor Juan was hit. Two days later, the supplier was found in his car with his throat slit.

The next two summers led to three other suppliers turning up murdered. The Gomez Brothers eliminated their competition, becoming the major source for Marijuana to all of the big dealers. They built relationships with farmers in Mexico and dealers at home. If you were trying to get started as a dealer, the Gomez Brothers were the key to getting started in the weed trade.

Carlos and Juan had arranged a meeting with a new prospect who had been searching for a good supplier. This prospect intrigued them. He was a young Italian who was buying ounces and pounds from any dealer he could. He paid upfront and returned quickly.

Upon further research, they found out his name was Dominic Lucca. Dominic apparently had connections to high schools and colleges that none of the other dealers the Gómez Brothers supplied had. Juan decided that this was a good time to meet Dominic Lucca. Juan saw the potential of a partnership with a dealer who had a piece of the market that was underserved and in spots, untouched.

They decided to meet at a park to shoot baskets. It would be a relaxed meeting they could establish the relationship and let them gain information about each other. Also, dressed in gym shorts and T-shirts, it would be hard for either side to appear threatening or to try to sneak in a weapon- even though Carlos still searched Dominic when he showed up to the park to be safe.

As they shot baskets, they talked. They liked Dominic. He was funny and had a solid strategy for what he wanted to do. But, more importantly for them, he could be an even bigger dealer with the backing of a steady supplier such as them.

The men agreed to meet again for drinks that night. As they were walking back to their cars, Dominic suddenly dropped his gym bag and knelt down to grab it. At that moment a dark blue van drove by. The side door slid open and bullets began to fire out. A masked gunman with a machine gun was on one knee, aiming out of the sliding door. Carlos was hit with three shots before he could react. Two bullets tore into his chest and then one hit him between the eyes.

Juan tried to run, but a bullet caught him in the back. He was thrown forward onto the ground. He stayed down as he heard shots still firing. When the shots stopped, he saw Dominic get up and run towards his car. He thought Dominic must have been able to see the van was gone. He started to get back up. He felt the pain shoot from his back through his chest. He dropped to his knees, trying to take a breath, but it was too painful. He knew he had to get out of there. He glanced at Carlos, dead on the ground, he wanted to grab him but knew he had to leave him. Then he was confused by what he saw. Dominic was walking back towards him. Dominic must have seen him struggling and was coming to help, Juan thought. He felt a temporary sense of relief until he saw that Dominic had a gun in his hand. Juan tried to yell, trying to lift his hand to motion for Dominic to wait. But, Dominic already had aimed the gun and fired a shot into Juan’s forehead.

When they pulled up to Westchester penitentiary, Phil Conti was not sure what was happening. They chatted on the drive about sports, politics, and movies. But neither Joe Muratori nor Anthony Lucca talked about where they were going. As a soldier, it wasn’t Phil’s spot to question. He knew his role was to wait patiently for instructions. Even if they had spoken about what they were doing, he may not have believed it. Just as he now couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The 15 feet high chain link fence with electric barb wire at the top opened and Frank Antonelli came walking out. Phil had met him years ago when he was first getting involved with the Family. He had seen pictures of The Don over the years, while everyone had heard the stories and the legend. But, seeing him walking towards the car was surreal.

Phil was so caught up in what he was seeing that it took a moment to realize Joe and Anthony had stepped out of the car. He quickly followed. He watched Frank Antonelli approaching. The Don was older than he remembered. His jet black hair had turned into a dark gray. His eyes were a little more sunken and his nose looked to be a bit wider. But, he still had the granite chin. Even though the Don didn’t appear to be as physically powerful as he once was, he still radiated force. It was something in his presence, in his eyes.

Frank embraced Joe and Anthony. He then turned to shake Phil’s hand. They locked eyes as they shook hands. Phil could never explain the chill he had at that moment.

As they drove away,