The Takeover

By The Trapper

Charlie Trippie, just out of the navy after twenty years, is called on by his Uncle Dom, who is a Mafia don. He was asked to take over a local union in Miami to stop the Cubans from taking over. The story has many twists from beginning to end. You travel with Charlie from Miami, New York, and the Bahamas. From island to island, the book is written for fast action and gives you the insight of how things are done inside the unions, local and international. The ending will explode in your face as you complete this book. Experience the character's adventures with the Mafia and the beautiful women he encounters in the story. It's a raw, true-to-life street adventure written by a man who has been in the trenches of union business and is now writing Charlie Trippie's next adventure to be available soon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Newman Springs Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 22, 2021
• ISBN: 9781638813781

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The Takeover

The Trapper

Copyright © 2021 The Trapper

All rights reserved

First Edition

NEWMAN SPRINGS PUBLISHING

320 Broad Street

Red Bank, NJ 07701

First originally published by Newman Springs Publishing 2021

ISBN 978-1-63881-377-4 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63881-378-1 (Digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

The Trapper

To Big Bobby

The rain was hitting the window of the taxi. New York always looks so lonely when the weather is bad. As I puffed on my cigarette, many thoughts ran through my mind. The traffic to the airport was light. I guess the weather was keeping people indoors. My mind wandered back to the last few hours and about the phone call from Uncle Dominick. I had not seen him in a few years, and he hadn’t changed much. As I walked into his restaurant, I wondered, with all the years he had in the family and all the money he had made, why he didn’t step out and go to Florida or some warm place and retire. But I guess, when your whole life has been in the business and you had your only son killed in the family business, you stay with it. As always, I was greeted by everybody. Uncle Dominick’s two bodyguards stepped up as I approached his office. The older man I knew, Frank, had been with him for years. Frank was a little grayer and fatter since I saw him last. He grabbed my arm and gave me a hug. I could feel the piece in his jacket press against my chest.

I kidded him, saying, Hey, Frank—patting his coat pocket—the older you get, the longer your pecker gets.

He laughed and introduced me to the other man. Tony was about twenty-five, tall and lean, but you could tell by the look in his eyes he was mean. He had a scar on his face. We shook hands, and I realized he spoke with a Sicilian accent, probably just off the boat.

As Frank took me into Uncle Dominick’s office, I noticed everything remained the same. As the small elevator came down from upstairs, I could see him. He was a big man in his late seventies and respected by all members of the family. Uncle Dominick was the peacemaker over the families in the country. He stayed out of the usual family rackets, and his main concern was the running of the family’s unions around the country. He also watched over the family’s political connections. He, over the years, had a hand in making more judges and politicians appointed or elected. He greeted me with a smile and a warm hug and directed me to sit down by his desk. Frank left us alone, and Uncle Dominick called Tony in and told him to get some wine and cheese for us. Uncle Dominick was a man who wasted little time getting to the point. He explained there was a small construction union in Miami, Florida, that he controlled but was having trouble with. It seems the business manager in charge was sick and had to retire. They needed someone to take his place.

I said, I knew little about general construction and much less about unions.

I just finished twenty years in the navy as a diver and had decided to relax and planned to go to the islands on my sailboat. But when Uncle Dominick called, I owed him the respect and came here to see him right away. He explained all I had to do was go down there and take over. I would be appointed as the business manager for a little while, and they would send someone in from the family to take over shortly. I asked why they didn’t do it now instead of waiting. He explained that he had a man in the international union in Washington and it would be simpler to get me appointed temporarily. Besides, time was the problem. If they didn’t act now, they were afraid the Cubans would move in and take over. The way the Miami area was going, the Cuban families were hard to control.

They had money and great political influence in South Florida but had no control of any unions and were in the market for one.

Tony came in with the wine and cheese.

Uncle Dominick turned to Tony and said, Send in Frank.

I turned to Uncle Dominick and said, if he needed me, I would go. Frank came into the office and smiled. We all had some wine, and Uncle Dominick told Frank to go upstairs and bring the papers off his desk table. As I went over the papers Frank gave me, I laughed to myself. In the file was a union book and dues card in my name dated twenty years ago, and what really got to me was the union was a bridge-building one who also had divers in it. Leave it to Uncle Dominick; he had it all figured out. He knew I had diving experience in the navy.

The cab driver broke my train of thought by saying we were at the airport. It also wasn’t crowded. I checked in and settled down to wait for the plane to leave. We landed in Miami, and I grabbed a cab to Fort Lauderdale to an address given me. As I paid the cab fare, I noticed a black Buick parked at the condo entrance.

The doorman came up and asked who I was, and when I told him I would be staying in apartment 714B, he said he would send up my bags and shook my hand and said, The Buick out in from is for your use. It was sent by Frank.

Uncle Dom made all the arrangements. When I opened the apartment door, I wondered how many of these places the family owned. The apartment was nice. It had a big living room, two bedrooms, two baths, and a kitchen. I opened the glass doors to the patio. The beautiful view of the ocean and skyline was outstanding. At that moment, I heard a noise in the back bedroom. Slowly I pushed open the door to see a woman putting down some towels. She was tall, had brown hair, and was about twenty-nine or thirty. As she turned around, I saw a very pretty girl with a large round tan face and large well-rounded developed breasts. I noticed they were trying to escape their binding low-cut halter. The shorts she had on fit as they were burned on her.

I must have startled her because she said with a surprised look, Oh, Mr. Trippie, I didn’t expect you to be here until late tonight.

She told me she was the union’s chief secretary and was called by Frank to prepare the apartment for me. I asked her name as she walked to the bar in the living room. She mixed us a drink as I noticed the bar was stocked with my favorite whiskey and wines. She told me her name was Matty Sharp and she managed the union office for several years. I asked her why Frank had called her and if she knew why I was sent here. She moved to the couch with her drink. I noticed, as she sat down and crossed her legs, the shorts tightened up. I realized that, in Florida, the girls sometimes wore no panties under their shorts. It was an interesting sight. I would need to investigate that thought later, but now I needed to know what she was told.

Uncle Dominick never said anything about her to me but that I would be contracted by a family member. Matty explained she has been with the family since she was sixteen, working as a prostitute and later a madam in Lake Tahoe. She married with permission to a union official with one of the internationals in Washington, but he tried to move up the ladder fast. One cold night while leaving his