Blood Oath: Rise To Power: 1, #1

By Walter T. Byrd Jr.

In the 1960's, Outfit Organization leader, a ruthless gangster, and former IRA mercenary named Devlin Kinkade, who was involved in a bloody war with the five families in New York. In a sit-down over racket dispute, Devlin Kinkade set-up Crime boss Emilio Lapuccio and Underboss Scolion Salvatore, and whacked them both walking into a nightclub, operated by Devlin Kinkade, in a move to solidify his power, and to become King of New York.

 Silvano Villanucci the Don of La Costa Nostra was out for retribution against the outfit Organization. Don Villanucci ordered his blood, family, and the men he trusted most, to carry out the hits on Outfit leader, Devlin Kincade, and his cohorts. Silvano who felt being a war hero wasn't enough, thirst for more money, power, and respect. He sent newly appointed mobsters, Delfino, Amedeo, Giovanni, Antonio, Marco, and Lorenzo to York to eliminate the Outfit organization and regain control of an empire that was his for the taking.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Walter T. Byrd Jr.
• Release date: Mar 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215453940

Walter T. Byrd Jr.

Walter Trivalle Byrd Jr, a native of Minneapolis, Minnesota. He comes from humble beginnings, faced with many obstacles living with a rare disease Tuberous Sclerosis Complex. Walter has always been fascinated with different media forums such as Movies, Writing, and Fine Arts. He loves Sci-Fi, Suspense, Horror, Action, Comedy, and Mafia movies. Despite, Walter's disadvantages growing up, guided by faith, and the support of friends and family. He often uses a motivational quote, "We have dreams, and you need action to fulfill your dreams before they can become a reality. If you talk about your dream, and it becomes unfulfilled, it's just talking." - Walter Byrd He was able to overcome this by focusing on many of his accomplishments obtaining his cinema studies, cinema production certificate, and Film Directing Degree at Minneapolis Community and Technical College. The films to Walter's credit are film capstone projects "The Situation" 2017 and "Lawless" 2018.                                                              He collaborated with animation company Monkey suite, and Byrd's Eye Motion Pictures to form an Independent Film Company Dark Fall Studios based in Minneapolis, Minnesota. They have many developed Screenplays, for live-action, animated films, and several 3D animated projects in preproduction. Walter also became an Author throughout that period by writing his first book in his Blood Oath Series, Blood Oath: Rise to Power. He's currently working on many books, including Blood Oath: The Five Families, Blood Oath: Marked for Death, Doctor Grimm: Postmortem, Vengeance: Realm of Five Kingdoms, Blood Curse: Book of The Dead, Condemned: The Serpent Killer, The Defector: Rogue Protocol, The Papacy: Trojan Horse, Cutthroat: A Gangsters Ambition with several books near completion. He also has comic books in development, with a multitude of characters showcased throughout the storyline of his multiverse exhibit in comic books, Screenplays and Movies

Book preview

Chapter One: The Rise of A Fascist Movement

The whole world seemed to be in chaos that summer. Paris, 1942. But not the history that is told in books. This was another time, and the chaos was of a different nature, more destructive that anything the other worlds know. It was a chaos of ideals, of principles and intentions. It was backed up by actions, their mastery dark and cruel.

Paris was the center that inspired the chaos, too. There, in a city once celebrated for its beauty, the wealth of its ideas, a black cancer grew as Fascism. First, just a few choice words from the country's powerful leader, King Latimer. But as time passed, the cancer expanded, began to swallow up every ounce of humanity that was left in the center, until the form was unrecognizable – a swelling black mass.

At the center of the terror, meanwhile, were the leaders of a coalition, one formed by King Latimer when he realized the fragility of his own position and the need to create a much stronger foundation if he was going to achieve the vision he had entertained since the beginning of the war.

But Latimer's key ally, King Attilano of Venice, was the perfect partner for Latimer's scheming. Their ideological views were one and the same, their love of fascism a mutual understanding, and their sole purpose to destroy Democracy wherever it happened to endure. With time, even, they great more determined, more vicious in the enforcement of their twisted ideals.

King Latimer proved himself ruthless early on, of course, demonstrating his heartlessness in his management of refugees in France, in Paris most particularly, where it seemed easy to make even a moderately large group of foreigners disappear without a trace, without anyone asking a question. It wasn't long before those closest to him, his advisors most particularly, were convinced of his near sociopathic nature, his determination to achieve his ends at any cost.

In fact, when Latimer decided to declare war against his arch nemesis, King Theopilus of England, waging a propaganda war first, to polite the minds of his people, his agenda was clear.

By the time he sent some two million soldiers to fight his cause across the sea, their understanding, their very perception of the world, was so unsteady, so irrevocably incomplete, there was no hope for the men, women, and children they were ordered to destroy.

What followed was genocide - the destruction of everyone who opposed fascist ideals and the vicious propagandizing thereafter of the fascist cause.

The madness increased, though, with every day, every month that Latimer drank up his power. The thirst for power even grew contagious. When King Attilano spoke up to his Venice military defense counsel about his intentions, he insisted that he too was ready to take charge, to seize control of a part of Italy that seemed to be in defiance of the so called fascist ideas.

I will crush their 10,000 soldiers, Attilano had bellowed, glaring at his chief military advisor, Colonel Lapo, who had spoken rather too abruptly on the issue of funding and available, competent men.

Rome is mine, the King bellowed, his frustration growing as another of his advisors stepped forward, apparently with less than positive commentary on the situation.

Allowing himself a moment to compose, though, Colonel Lapo stepped forward again to speak what was weighing on his mind.

What happens to Vatican City? He asked, knowing that there was no good answer to that question. He knew he would, in all likelihood, have to answer his own question. What would happen to Vatican City? If the answer lay in its destruction, then the problem was the Pope's pact with Salvatore, King of Naples; a pact designed to protect Vatican City, with nothing but the ferocious intent that King Latimer had demonstrated already.

King Salvatore's Royal Army & Navy are heavily armed, Colonel Lapo grimaced. He has over 25,000 soldiers.

He knew his words, his protests sounded almost perfunctory. King Attilano was struck most by the interruption. He was quiet, pensive all of a sudden, but it had nothing to do with what the Colonel had said.

In one swift motion, King Attilano positioned himself within a hair's breadth of his subordinate. The Colonel could feel his breath on his ear, his whole body tingling with fear.

Do you know exactly who you're fucking with, Colonel?

Attilano had a very particular way of threatening. It was never loud and exaggerated. He never raised his voice. But his threats were always intensely violent. More violent than they would have been if he had even considered raising his voice above a cool hissing.

I will kill you, he said smoothly. Along with your family. Don't you ever question my authority again.

And that was all it took. All it would ever take. Lapo allowed himself to shudder, tried to collect his thoughts, formulate them into something vaguely coherent.

I'm sorry, my king was all he could manage. He suddenly realized he was desperate to leave. He almost wanted to run, for the first time in his life.

Of course, he had heard of the King's menacing. He had seen it firsthand. He had been a party to it on many occasions. But never its target. He had never been threatened before. His loyalty was wavering at times but it had never been as unsteady as it was today. He knew that the King understood this, saw it, sensed it. Attilano possessed a sixth sense. Perhaps that was the best way to describe it. He could sense a person's true allegiance and he could know, in a crowded room, where the man stood who would betray him and at what price.

The only way to fight such power was to earn its respect. At least Attilano could respect you if you betrayed him for a high enough price.

Attilano watched the Colonel as if he was reading the man's thoughts. Lapo looked up suddenly, shaking even more violently than before. Had the king read his mind? Did he know?

King Attilano pulled out his Beretta 92 from the holster about his waist. Firing several rounds, he almost smiled as a wail of horror escaped his once so passionate betrayer.

Lapo's body stretched out in a pool of blood at the end of the table, coughing, failing breaths followed by stillness. It was the end. Or the beginning.

What followed was commotion. The Venice defense minister, Primo, came running into the room startled by the shots. Seeing the King standing with gun in hand, he forgot himself and railed a censure to the king. A travesty! Murder. We cannot tolerate this violence! We cannot!

Primo. The King smiled. A young Lieutenant Colonel stood outside the door, also summoned by the sound of gunshots, now surveying the scene for himself.

You cannot do this, your Majesty! You cannot! You will destroy us all. You will destroy your own people with this madness.

Primo. The King spoke again, his voice smooth, coaxing. He turned to the Lieutenant Colonel standing guard at the door. With a nod of his head, he communicated his order.

Primo was an old man, failing in his health, graying in his appearance. But he was a man of the people. He was a political dog who had rallied armies in his time, managed Attilano's father, even.

Seconds later, Primo was dead, too, a bullet lodged squarely in the back of his head.

Attilano could not afford to think twice about it. He wanted an end, closure. He wanted a clean break from everything he knew and understood about the world he'd grown up in. He needed it if things were to go his way.

He stepped back so that the Lt. Colonel could finish his work, manage the clean up. The bodies would be taken to some secluded paced and burned but there was no advantage to drawing any more unnecessary attention. These sorts of operations needed to clean, controlled.

If he could just have kept his mouth shut, he thought. The old colonel had been a friend, something of a mentor. It wasn’t enough to be a good man, though. He had this coming if he was going to defy the king, the Lt. Colonel said aloud, as he took out the lighter from his pocket and tossed it at the bodies.

Chapter Two: The Tyrants Ambition of War

Looking back to the palace, the Lt. Colonel saw the King watching him from the balcony, his menacing eyes visible even at a distance. Was he watching him or the pillars of smoke rising from the bodies? Before the Lt. Colonel could get a better look, the King vanished into the confines of the palace. The guards were still moving about the parameter for security.

His own part played for the time being, the Lt. Colonel decided to retreated to the military quarters for a bit of peace. Perhaps peace wasn’t the right world. He could hear yelling outside of his room and he had only about five minutes to himself before the King would want him to report back on the disposal of the bodies. Attilano was nothing if not domineering, controlling. He liked to hear that work was done properly as much as he wanted to see it done. The Lt. Colonel had been his employ so long, subject to his direct orders, that he anticipated them also like a second nature.

Back at the palace, he entered the King’s private chambers with a tentative knock and a weary look at the guards standing on duty. They would probably warn him if he should wait for a direct summons.

Sorry for the interruption, my King. He kept his head down low, refusing to make eye contact. But Attilano had his eyes fixed on the young man, the new loyal figure, the young hero.

What took so long? Attilano glared, indicating for the Lt. Colonel to take a seat at the long table at the center of the room.

Glad you could join us.

I was tying up loose ends, my king, he said, with a deferential nod.

Attilano smiled at this, though, and seemed to step out of his evil demeanor, at least temporarily.

What I like to hear. He smiled.

Then suddenly he pounded his fist on the table.

I was provoked here today. This should be a lesson to you all that whoever is not with me is against me. If you learn anything, though, he added, know that if anyone defies me, they will die. Do you understand?

Attilano’s Security Council, inevitably in attendance as he made this latest threat, felt the terror that Attilano demanded. They were all afraid, every one of them, but they followed through.

Yes, your majesty,