Sinister City

By Matthew Campbell

When Neal and his high school buddies go to Vegas for one last hurrah before college, they soon realize they are in for way more than they bargained for. Neal’s father Ron has been a wanted man for nearly two decades by the mob after witnessing a hit in Miami. The early release of Santos; the new Don of the Milano family leads to a revenge plot against Ron. Neal and his friends soon find themselves hunted by the mob in a cat and mouse crazy ride set along the backdrop of The Vegas Strip. Sinister City is filled with raunchy comedic moments, shocking plot twists, adrenaline-filled action and hardcore Vegas shenanigans.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press AU
• Release date: Jul 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781982290719

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Copyright © 2021 Matthew Campbell.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means,

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except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer

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Cover Artwork by: Robert Murphy

ISBN: 978-1-9822-9072-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-9071-9 (e)

Balboa Press rev. date: 08/09/2021

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

IN MEMORIAM: DANNY DOSS

Dedicated to Alexandra Davies, my partner in

crime. Thank you for your love and

support and for going on this crazy ride with me.

A special thank you to the following for assisting in the

creation of this book and for your inspiration:

Mom (Kathryn Butterfield), Grandma (Irene Doss), Dad (Michael

Campbell), Uncle (Mark Campbell), Robert Murphy, Andre Makina,

William Reilly, Rob Bonet, Leslie Slater, Alex

Campbell, Mikhail Roberts, Marlene Hartje , Greg

Meyer , Indiana Hanrahan, Matt Chassin,

Ron Nery, Jr., Mark Hollenbaugh, Stephanie Michelle, Jae Gutierrez,

Marina DuBois, Christian Van Slyke, Dan E. Scott, Soko Nix,

Devon Carey, Nathan Spiteri, Michael Anthony Jr.,

Eric Delgado, Kat Zatz, Adriana Fuentes,

Rick Sudi Karatas, Mark A. Ozog and Monica Ramon.

If I missed anyone just know this book is for you

and I trust it brings a smile to your face.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1: Blessings on the Deal

Chapter 2: Can I Get A Witness?

Chapter 3: Surf City

Chapter 4: That Bitch Jenna

Chapter 5: Mick the Mouth

Chapter 6: Whitter: Where the Girls are Prettier

Chapter 7: The New Don

Chapter 8: The Strat

Chapter 9: Big Shot

Chapter 10: What Did Ya Say, Little Man?

Chapter 11: Sausage Party

Chapter 12: This Is Prada, You Bitch!

Chapter 13: Could You Show ’Em Your Fake Id?

Chapter 14: The Drunk Tank

Chapter 15: The Final Table

Chapter 16: Taken

Chapter 17: Hospital of the Damned

Chapter 18: Don’t Be A Pussy, You’ve Got A Gun

Chapter 19: Dude! Your Dad is Hardcore!

Chapter 20: Fight On!

CHAPTER 1

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BLESSINGS ON THE DEAL

T HE SOUTHERN FLORIDA rain begins to pelt down on a white Mercedes as it speeds down the highway. The humidity is so thick on this fall evening that it can be smelt in the air. In the driver’s seat is Ron Campbell, a ruggedly handsome man in his late thirties. He wears dark sunglasses and a perfectly pressed navy blue three-piece suit with a pink tie.

Now a successful sports agent, he most definitely looks the part. In the passenger seat is David Schwartz, Ron’s money manager and his most trusted associate. David is short, portly and balding with a thick graying dark beard. He wears a Yamaka on his head.

The tires of the Mercedes squeal as it pulls into the gravel laden parking lot of Mango’s Tropical Café. David is clearly unhappy about the rain as he gingerly steps out of the car and opens his umbrella. A young Valet spots the white Mercedes and sees the license of the car as it reads, SUPERBWL. Knowing this could possibly lead to a very handsome tip, he sprints toward them. Here ya go Ron says as he nonchalantly tosses the keys toward the Valet. The Valet catches them, and smiles Thank you, gentlemen. Welcome to Mango’s Tropical Café.

Ron nods to the Valet as he watches him jog back to his kiosk, shielding his face from the rain. David and Ron approach the front door to Mango’s Tropical Café. He looks up from his umbrella to Ron with an irritated look on his face as he folds up the umbrella. A titty bar? Really?

Ron snickers with a winning smile, Oh relax! Let’s go inside and get out of this Tsunami. I hear the Hawaiian burgers here are excellent. David grumbles inaudibly to himself in Hebrew as the two men enter.

Mango’s screams Goodfellas but with a total eighties’ vibe. David whispers to Ron, I really don’t have a good feeling about this. Ron immediately smiles to himself as the two men walk in. The shrieking vocals of the rock band Warrant’s song Sweet Cherry Pie plays loudly as Ron and David slowly pass the main stage and check out the strippers.

Ron looks over his shoulder and sees David has stopped and is staring at a very sexy Cuban stripper working the pole with an athletic red head who is also smoking hot. David begins to quickly trot over to Ron to catch up.

At the end of the walkway, Ron and David spot three very intimidating Italian mobster types in their late fifties. All three are staring them down, seated in a darkly lit booth. One of the last of the old school mobsters, Jimmy Caciano. Jimmy sports a scar that runs down the bridge of his nose which is backlit from the light of the candle on the table. This makes him look especially villainous.

To his left is infamous mob attorney, Frank Regano. Frank adjusts the toothpick in his mouth. Frank’s eyes look dead, almost vampire-like. To Frank’s left is Peter Milano, head of the Milano crime family. Peter has an icy, brumal smile as he puffs on a cigar. David is frozen with fear as Ron coaxes him, Just relax. These guys are legit.

As they reach the table Peter exclaims, Ronnie! Ha ha! I see you brought the Rabbi with you. Jimmy leans forward and in a raspy voice, For blessings on the deal? Everyone snickers and laughs loudly. Everyone except David. He is clearly not amused and quite insulted. Ron retorts with a big smile to help David relax, Close. My lawyer.

David rolls his eyes at the comment as Ron and David both find their seats, sliding onto the bench seat of the booth facing opposite of Peter. So, can I get you boys something to drink or maybe eat? Peter suggests. Ron politely shakes his head, No, we’re good. Peter now playing up his hosting responsibilities wasn’t about to let that comment go. Come on. Forget about it." he says in a thick Italian accent.

Peter turns to a cocktail waitress within earshot and yells, Hey gorgeous! Six Johnnie Walker Blues. Peter turns to the group and smiles, Actually just bring the whole bottle. David looks right at Peter who has somehow now found a bit of confidence, He said we are good. Jimmy looks very menacingly at David.

Oh...we got a real tough one here Peter. Peter takes a long drag of his cigar and smirks at David, Straight to business. I like it. Peter Milano looks Ron dead in the eyes. For the first time Ron can see the darkness through the mask of charm Peter often displays as Ron looks right into his eyes. It is almost as if he is looking at the devil himself.

Ron can tell this man has clearly seen some shit. There is a long awkward pause, causing Ron to nervously swallow hard. Peter finally breaks his gaze with Ron as he chuckles. Peter smirks as he notices David staring obviously at the cocktail waitress’ ass. Peter clears his throat, Hey ah Rabbi? See something you like?" David is startled and adjusts his glasses as he tries to play it off.

Jimmy chimes in Probably not the holy scenery you are used to! Am I right? The entire table roars with laughter except David who clearly shows his embarrassment but does his best to play it off as if nothing had ever happened.

David sits up and adjusts his tie. The name is David. David Schwartz. Yes, very interesting place. Peter takes another drag off his cigar, never breaking eye contact with him. Good to hear it. One of the twelve nightclubs I own here in South Beach. Got this one from some Cubans a couple of months ago.

Frank looks over to Jimmy who nearly takes it as his cue, Yeah, some dead Cubans. The three mobsters all roar with laughter as Ron and David look wide eyed and concerned.

A loud ringing sound is heard on the table as the cocktail waitress slams down a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue label and the clinking of the 5 shot glasses. She nods to David, Here ya go, boys.

Just as she turns to leave Jimmy blurts out, Hey ya, sweet cheeks... Ya know, ya got an admirer, as he points to David.

Everyone roars with laughter. The cocktail waitress can clearly see David is mortified as she rubs his shoulder. How’d ya know I got a thing for beards? The mobsters all chuckles and nod to themselves as she walks away.

Peter steers the conversation back to a more serious tone as Jimmy begins filling up everyone’s shot glass. Anyways Ronnie, let’s get down to brass tacks, shall we? Ron nods to Peter and quickly scans the room of tough mafia guys. Peter takes a sip of his whiskey, We are here about the house on Hibiscus Drive, Correct?

Ron nods and glances over to David. Right. So, the wife and I are expecting. Now that we are a bit more settled here in Miami, I was thinking of finally upgrading and getting something nicer and a bit more permanent.

All three of the mobsters approvingly nod. Frank is noticeably impressed. Peter nods as he comments, Life is good now that the Dolphins are in the playoffs, right? Peter had hoped to surprise Jimmy and Frank and by their baffled looks it appears he has succeeded. Oh Jimmy, Frank, you fellas don’t know, I guess. Ronnie here is a sports agent. He reps Dan Marino.

Frank looks very intensely at Ron, Well shit, where are our season tickets? All three of the mobsters look directly at Ron, who begins to get very uncomfortable and anxious. Ron and David begin to start looking around, a bit scared. Ron notices as Peter leans back to adjust his suit a butt of a gun is revealed.

Peter breaks the awkward silence, So about the house. Let’s make a deal. Ya know, I almost gave it to Flipper. Ron and David look at each other with furrowed brows, Flipper? Peter can see the confusion and shakes his head. My kid brother. That fat asshole just got out of prison again. No way that turd can care for that house. The group senses the awkward moment and just sips their whiskey. Peter picks up his glass and takes the rest of the whiskey drink. He slams it and lets out a satisfying groan. Anyways, Ronnie. Make me an offer.

David hands Ron a pen from his briefcase. Ron grabs the pen and clicks it to prepare to write. He snatches a cocktail napkin and quickly writes a dollar figure. Ron nods to himself reassuringly as he slides the napkin over to Peter. I think you will find this more than reasonable.

Peter looks at the dollar figure written on the napkin, then up to Ron than David as he quickly stands. It looks as if he is going to reach for a gun. Instead, he reaches into his suit pocket for his reading glasses. David drops under the table in fear, nearly spilling the drinks as the group roars with laughter. Peter adjusts his jacket as David slowly climbs back up into his seat from the floor with a sheepish look on his face.

After adjusting his jacket, Peter takes a seat with his reading glasses and carefully looks at the napkin and smiles approvingly. He reaches for Ron’s hand. It’s a deal, then. Have the Rabbi fix up the paperwork, then come on by Friday evening around 8:30pm so we can make it official. David glares at Peter as they shake hands. Ron nods at Frank and Jimmy as he and David exit the club.

David had not realized just how long of a stretch it was to Hibiscus Drive from his office in downtown Miami. It was an especially humid Friday evening. He quickly rolls down his window and wipes the sweat from his forehead and grumbles to himself, Blast this damn air conditioner. He pounds on the dashboard hoping to get it working again.

He pulls up in his dark blue Volkswagen Jetta to the front of Peter Milano’s house on Hibiscus Drive. It is a beautiful two-story Spanish style home. The front yard looks impeccable with two enormous palm trees that perfectly frame the home. As David exits his car, a middle- class Mom waves to him as she passes by walking a full-size black poodle on the sidewalk.

David peers down the street, noticing a Silver Toyota 4Runner full of Cuban men barreling towards him. David’s eyes are drawn across the street to a mysterious man, Santos Milano, around twenty-eight years old and Peter’s oldest son and made man. He is looking at David hard as he sits in his black Pontiac Firebird Trans Am smoking a cigarette.

David turns away, walking up to the security gate and presses the intercom button. Peter answers, Is that you Rabbi? I- David cuts him off, Yes, it’s David. Just out here waiting for Ron to arrive. Peter responds instantly, Meet me at the door, I’ll make you a drink.

A dull grinding sound is heard as the security gate opens. As David walks through, he is immediately greeted by a large Henchman. The Henchman stands nearly six-foot 5inches with a very imposing frame. He sizes up David. You here for Peter? he says as he approaches him.

Clearly nervous, David stammers, I...I…y-yes. David clears his throat. He is expecting me. The Henchman begins feeling David up for weapons. He lifts David up as he puts his hands on his crotch. The Henchman nods with approval after feeling his package. Peter opens the door and walks out with two drinks.

Ron is driving down Hibiscus Drive as he sings along loudly to Tears for Fears on the radio. He pulls in right behind the Cubans’ Toyota. Just as Ron opens the door to the Mercedes, he notices half a dozen Cuban men all with weapons drawn as they exit the Toyota. They quickly move to Peter’s house and before Ron can even react, they begin shooting at Peter.

Ron is shocked and beside himself with fear. Out of the corner of his eye he spots Santos jumping out of his Trans Am with a look of pure evil. Santos instantly unloads a round directly at the Cubans! Bullets are flying everywhere. The Cuban’s Toyota is littered with bullets and steam is billowing off the front end of their Toyota.

The middle-class woman who has witnessed the craziness runs screaming through the