FABRASIA NEXT GEN

By Domenic Pugliares

Luke Fabrasia, infamous notorious leader of the Boston crime family that’s known only by his last name. Luke is put into an awkward position by his sons Luke Jr and Nick. They want to become big players in the family business and Luke wants none of it. He like all good dads wants better for his boys. He would prefer they become lawyers, accountants, or even garbage men before entering the seedy underworld of organized crime.
The boys have different aspirations and pull off a daring armored car hold up that nets the boys and their new formed crew millions of dollars. When Luke finds out things spiral completely out of control. Sons or not crossing Luke Fabrasia is not a place many people have survived. The story bounces from Boston to New Hampshire to Nashville and back in this lightning paced coming of age story. Pugliares author of Familia Fabrasia, Brothers Fabrasia, The Ride and now Fabrasia Next Gen is known for his realistic portrayal of organized crime. He is also known for his surprise endings. Next Gen is no different and this story will not disappoint.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9781669870470

Domenic Pugliares

Domenic Pugliares is a serial entrepreneur. He built one of the largest commercial travel companies in the United States before selling it in the late 1990s. He then went on to start, build, buy, and sell a number of companies while accumulating commercial investment real estate. Currently, he is the owner of Dunegrass Country Club in Old Orchard Beach, Maine, where he is diligently working on his golf game, as well as his writing skills.

Book preview

1333_c.jpg

FABRASIA

NEXT GEN

Domenic Pugliares

Copyright © 2023 by Domenic Pugliares.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 12/06/2023

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

850548

CONTENTS

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Epilogue

Dedicated

To my mom whose never-ending love and support is the fabric that binds me.

Love you Mom!

Introduction

Luke Fabrasia, infamous notorious leader of the Boston crime family that’s known only by his last name. Luke is put into an awkward position by his sons Luke Jr and Nick. They want to become big players in the family business and Luke wants none of it. He like all good dads wants better for his boys. He would prefer they become lawyers, accountants, or even garbage men before entering the seedy underworld of organized crime.

The boys have different aspirations and pull off a daring armored car hold up that nets the boys and their new formed crew millions of dollars. When Luke finds out things spiral completely out of control. Sons or not crossing Luke Fabrasia is not a place many people have survived. The story bounces from Boston to New Hampshire to Nashville and back in this lightning paced coming of age story. Pugliares author of Familia Fabrasia, Brothers Fabrasia, The Ride and now Fabrasia Next Gen is known for his realistic portrayal of organized crime. He is also known for his surprise endings. Next Gen is no different and this story will not disappoint.

Chapter 1

Luke Jr. and Nick Fabrasia, the twenty-six- and twenty-four-year-old sons of Luke Fabrasia sat pensively in a nondescript Ford Crown Victoria finished in black primer. They could have just as easily been mistaken for undercover cops sitting on a stakeout if it weren’t for their young age. Instead, they were getting ready to pull off the biggest crime of their young careers.

Sonny Puleo and Marco Bonsetti parked on a side street with the front of their also-primed van perpendicular to Luke Jr and Nick’s car. They were staring right at Luke Jr. sitting in the driver’s seat. Rico Marselli and Gina Salvetti were walking down the same side of the street that Luke Jr. and Nick were parked. Joey Falcone, sometimes also known as Joey Falcon, leaned against a doorway across the street from Luke Jr. and Nick were parked. He could see the front bumper of the primed van on his left and the whites of Luke Jr.’s eyes from his vantage point directly across from him. You have to be a little crazy to attempt what they were going to attempt shortly, but Joey of the group was way up on the crazy scale. A strong 9 on a 1-to-10 basis.

Luke Jr. was parked in the last legal spot before the loading zone in front of the TD Bank directly across from the originally called and now-renamed Boston Garden, TD Bank Garden to be exact. They had been parked there for four hours as they circled, then parked a couple of spots down, and waited for that particular spot to open. Sonny, who was driving the van, got much luckier when he pulled up at 5:00 a.m. His predetermined parking spot was available, so he just pulled in and waited for all the cogs to fall into place.

Under the strictest of orders from Luke Jr., unless they could both get those predetermined parking spaces, their plan would have to wait another week. This had happened twice already, and the group was getting anxious. Luke Jr. and Nick had been scoping out this job for over three months. The bank got drop-offs every Tuesday and Thursday, but for some reason unknown to Luke Jr. and Nick, there seemed to be half the traffic on Tuesdays. Most of that traffic, as you would expect, was coming into town. They were hopefully leaving town. They were going to, of all places, to the ex-headquarters of their dad’s now-dead archenemy Vladimir Pulanski. Their dad, infamous crime boss Luke Fabrasia bought the property at a public auction not long after Luke Jr. shot and killed Vladimir when he invaded their house. Luke originally was going to have him ground up at their sausage factory but later decided to have him chopped into pieces and left to be found all around Boston. They would never be able to trace it back to him, but all aspiring bad guys would know who the perpetrator was, and the message would be sent to anyone who thought Luke’s territory was up for grabs.

Their half uncle and now-head FBI boss in Boston is Joe Stone, a.k.a. Giuseppe Sasso. Joe thought it was in bad taste buying his ex-property and would rub in the authorities’ faces that Luke was untouchable, which, of course, would make him more of a target. Luke didn’t concern himself with such trivial nonsense. He truly thought he was untouchable. He very rarely at this stage of his career got his hands dirty. He had people who had people for all his unsavory activities. Also, the family had made so much money from the counterfeiting scheme his half brother Joe Stone uncovered from two MIT students while he was still just a legitimate agent of the FBI. At that point, it was still unknown to Luke and his family that Joe and Luke were actually brothers. Stone was trying to prove himself to his brother before coming out to him. That almost backfired because Luke was just a hair-trigger finger away from eliminating Stone and the millions he would bring to the family not to mention finding out he had a brother he never knew existed.

Just as they had every Tuesday prior for the previous three months, the armored car loaded with bags of cash pulled into the loading zone in front of Luke Jr.’s stolen car. They all knew the time was getting close. The seven of them all individually thought their heartbeats could not beat any faster. That was before they all spotted the armored vehicle pull down the street. They were all nervous to be sure. They wouldn’t be human if they were not. At least Luke Jr. and Nick had been taught by their dad to always be overprepared for anything they were going to do in life. This was never what Luke had in mind when he was teaching life lesson to his boys. Actually, this was the furthest from his mind because, unlike Luke’s father who pushed a life of crime on his son, Luke wanted better for his children. Even though Luke still had dreams of that, they all knew that horse had left the barn.

The problem with almost any job that has a repetitive component to it is that the employee will inevitably get lazy. Luke and Nick didn’t really understand this yet, but they had been watching these particular guys long enough to know that the two guys who carried the money into the bank never seemed particularly alert. They always seemed to be laughing, joking, and never looking worried about being robbed. But they were always heavily armed and wearing body armor.

Luke Jr. looked at Nick, his eyes blazing like a tiger with syphilis. You ready, bro? Remember, nothing stupid! In, out, and out of here. No one gets hurt or caught!

You got it, brother. Nick meant every word of what he had said, but Nick was always the most volatile and easily distracted of the two.

Luke Jr. pulled off the blanket on the front seat, revealing their Planet of the Apes masks and two Uzis. They both had Beretta 9mms stuffed in their belts. They quickly pulled on their masks and then threw the straps of their Uzis over their shoulders. Luke spoke into his radio for the others to hear in their earpieces, It’s a go! Put on your masks. Time to rock and roll! Sonny had already seen Luke Jr. putting on his mask, and as Luke’s orders were coming through their earpieces, they were already in motion.

Joey, standing across the street, had also seen Luke Junior putting on his mask, and his adrenaline went up a notch. Joey was the veteran of this crew at twenty-eight years old. His job was simple: cross the street, blow out the tires of the armored truck with armor-piercing bullets, then fire a couple of shots into the radiator, and then do his best to scare the shit out of the driver. Actually, none of them knew if the 50-caliber bullets would actually do any damage, but the gun was big enough to be loud and scare the shit out of anybody. Hopefully, if it all worked out well, Rico and Gina would be in the back of the truck quickly with Sonny and Marco and load up the van, and they would be gone in forty-five seconds tops.

Sean Wilson, an ex-security guard, was driving the armored truck. He was like a trained horse on an old milk route. Driving from pickup to the delivery spot was second nature to him. Today was no different, and he was happy to see that his loading dock space was wide open so he could just pull right in. He had been yelling through the communication hole back to Tom Hart and Kevin Stockard about how the Red Sox were destined to win another World Series this year. Kevin Stockard, a rabid New York Yankees fan, had a different opinion. Tom Hart was rolling his eyes. He hated baseball and didn’t have a dog in the fight. Unfortunately for him, he always seemed to get caught in the middle of Sean and Kevin’s incessant never-ending arguments. Tom’s hometown was Baltimore. He often thought about following the Orioles. He secretly fantasized about one day just joining the conversation and drop a bunch of stats about why the Orioles were a better team than both the Yankees and the Sox. Clearly, he knew nothing about baseball, but he fantasized nonetheless. Also, he was just too lazy to put in the work to learn something new. That is why he loved his job so much; he could act like a trained monkey every day, and he was just fine with that. He had to load some bags of money onto a dolly and wheel them into the bank. Then he would load up lighter bags of receipts and wheel them back to the truck. There was some physical lifting but nothing that bothered even someone as lazy as him.

There was nothing new to learn day in and day out. They had their protocols to follow; but basically, after four years on the same route without incident, they were left alone by their supervisors. They all knew at some level they were a little lax in the way they performed the security part of their job. They were heavily armed, and they looked pretty intimidating. This is why Luke Jr. and Nick, to some extent, were correct. They would not be expecting what was coming.

The truck stopped, and Kevin Stockard opened the back door to the armored vehicle and jumped out with his back toward Luke Jr. and Nick. He did this against company policy in order to continue yelling back up to Sean that he ought to google how many World Series the Yankees had won versus how many the Sox had won. The age-old comeback for any Yankee fan worth his salt. Sean, although partaking in the folly, was at least looking in his passenger window mirror. He noticed a couple had just got into his view, and he saw them putting something on their heads. He was temporarily confused for a moment when he saw what he thought were gorilla faces. By then, it was too late. Nick had grabbed Kevin by the back of his bulletproof vest and pulled him hard backward to the ground. Nick had heard him spouting off about the Yankees. For some reason, this infuriated Nick, who smashed the butt of his Uzi into the back of Kevin’s skull. He yelled at him, The Yankees suck, douchebag!

Luke Jr. was up and in the back of the truck before Tom Hart knew what was going on. He had his Uzi pointing at his face, yelling for him to lie facedown or get his face blown off.

Gina and Rico were up and in behind Luke Jr. in what seemed like a nanosecond. Sean was ready to put the truck in gear and drive away fast. This is how they are trained. What caught him off guard was that, as he was looking at the two gorilla masks in his side window, Joey had run across the street as fast as he could, lugging the 50-caliber gun. As Sean went to put the truck into gear, he heard what sounded like an explosion, but it was the 50-caliber gun exploding the front driver’s side tire. Joey, duly impressed with himself and his very large gun, quickly stepped to the front of the truck and shot two rounds into the grill. He immediately heard steam escaping, so he assumed his gun had once again done its job, rendering the radiator useless. He then raised the gun a.k.a. small cannon at the driver.

Sean was pretty sure even that sized gun could not penetrate his bulletproof glass, but he wasn’t taking any chances particularly since it was not his money he was protecting. He put his hands in the air and mouthed to the gorilla-masked man with the big gun, Please don’t shoot. I give up.

Sean could not hear very well through the thick glass, but he believed he heard the masked man mumble something he thought was, Ya damn right you do! Don’t fucking move!

While this was all happening, Sonny Puleo swung the van across the street, pointing it toward the traffic. Marco Bonsetti was already in the back of the panel van and threw open the back doors. The doors were hardly open when Rico had thrown a bag of money to Luke Jr., and Luke Jr. then threw it to Marco. Gina had her Uzi pointed at Tom’s head. He had no intention of putting up a fight just as he hadn’t in the baseball squabble just minutes before, which now seemed like a lifetime ago.

Nick had his foot firmly planted on Kevin Stockard’s back with his gun having just a little more pressure on the back of Kevin’s head than needed after the bashing he had just given him with the butt of his gun. Luke Jr. purposely wore a large wristwatch to keep track of the time. Regardless of how much money they got, in forty-five seconds max, they were gone. They rehearsed, practiced, and discussed it. No need to push the envelope. They should have plenty of money to split if all went well.

Sonny was also watching his watch, and as practiced, he yelled out every five seconds so they all knew where they stood. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty! Luke Jr. yelled to Rico.

Faster! Faster! Sonny said.

Twenty-five, thirty! Luke Jr. yelled.

Faster! Faster! Sonny said.

Thirty-five, forty! Luke Jr. decided it was enough. Done! Done! Let’s get the fuck out of here now!

That was Gina’s cue. She pulled out of her belt a TASER gun. She fired it into the back of Tom’s neck, and it sent him into furious spasms.

Joey had been listening for the countdown as Sonny yelled, Forty! He fired the 50 caliber into the windshield, which spider webbed the glass; but fortunately, for Sean, it just scared the shit out of him. Literally, not a lot but enough to make him really uncomfortable. He wouldn’t tell that to the police, but he was really uncomfortable until he got home and was able to shower that night.

Luke Jr. jumped out of the truck first, yelling, Nick, go, go, go! Luke Jr. turned to Gina Tase him now!

Gina tased his behind. Although he was still rendered unconscious by the vicious pounding to the head that Nick had given him, Kevin’s body unconsciously flinched from the volts of electricity flowing through his body.

Joey, Rico, and Gina jumped into the back of the van; and the doors were hardly closed when Sonny went peeling off toward Charlestown on their predetermined escape route over the river out of Boston into Charlestown and then into their final destination in Somerville.

Luke Jr. was getting into the car when he noticed Nick had still not begun moving yet. Hey, asshole, we need to get the fuck out of here now!

Nick shot Luke Jr. a quick-blazed eye stare. He’s a fucking Yankee fan! I hate Yankee fans! Nick then raised the butt of his Uzi and drove it down into the back of Kevin’s ear. Then he did it again and again.

Now, you fucking idiot, or I’m going to leave you here! That apparently shook Nick out of his self-induced trance, and he scooted around the passenger side of the car and jumped in.

Luke Jr. already had the car in gear and moving. He banged a U-turn and headed for Charlestown. Luke Jr. could already hear sirens in the distance. He didn’t know if they were for him, but he assumed they were. He only hoped they were coming down Causeway Street from downtown and not up Atlantic Avenue from the North End. That could end in a head-to-head battle they would most likely lose. Part of the reason they picked that particular bank was they only had to travel less than three hundred yards before they needed to take a left to cross the bridge out of Boston and into Charlestown. That should buy them some time before Boston PD put out an APB to the surrounding communities.

As they raced toward the light to take their left, Luke could tell there was an issue in the intersection. The traffic was backing up where they were headed, but surprisingly, there was not any traffic headed toward them. Luke Jr. swerved left and barreled up the road on the wrong side of the street. As they entered the intersection, the boys quickly figured out what happened. There was a red Camry and a Brown Ford SUV smashed up in the middle of the intersection. No doubt caused by Sonny’s reckless driving through the intersection. Both cars’ airbags had deployed, and people were already starting to congregate around the vehicles.

Luke Jr. bobbed and weaved through the intersection and the people rushing toward the intersection. Both boys, as planned, still had their masks on, knowing there were cameras at the intersection. Luke Jr. came close to hitting a couple of pedestrians. There were people screaming profanities at them for speeding through the cars and people. Nick responded in typical Nick fashion. He flashed them not only the middle finger but his middle fingers on both hands. He screamed maniacally through his ape mask, Fuck you, assholes!

Luke Jr. was singularly focused on getting through the intersection and over the bridge to the safety of Charlestown. The traffic was already backing up going over the bridge into Boston. Once Luke Jr. made it through the intersection, they were clear sailing. Luke Jr. floored the Crown Victoria, roaring the engine to life at maximum acceleration, heading into the safety of Charlestown. Luke Jr. allowed him that short moment to let out a small Yeah baby! to escape his lips.

They also planned that once they made it over the bridge, they needed to slow down and not get pulled over for speeding. They timed it twenty-five times. With all the evasive turns, they would take between four minutes and fifteen seconds and four minutes and forty-five seconds to pull into their garage in Somerville. That was when stage two of their plan would kick into high gear.

Nick was starting to jump up and down in the passenger seat yelling unintelligible hoots and hollering. Then he started yelling in English, That was fucking awesome! Unfuckingbelievable! Sonny must have caused that accident. Wow, we couldn’t have planned that any better. Those fucking guys didn’t know what hit them. We’re the balls! We’re the men! You and me, bro! Nick looked toward Luke Jr. for a response.

Luke Jr., sensing this, put his right hand up toward Nick. Shut up until we’re in the garage. This ain’t over yet.

Nick looked around and then theatrically put his hand up to his ear. I don’t see no fucking cops. I don’t hear no fucking cops. Chill, big brother. We did it!

We did it when I say we did it!

Hey, you ain’t the boss of me!

The fuck I’m not, little brother. You may be bigger and stronger, but I’m the boss here, so now shut the fuck up until we get in the garage. I need to concentrate. Nick was getting ready to continue when Luke Jr. put his hand up almost in Nick’s face. Seriously, shut the fuck up. I need to concentrate. We’re only about two minutes away. Nick slapped his brother’s hand away but kept his mouth shut.

Chapter 2

Sonny came around the back of the now-abandoned former Vladimir Putanski Russian mob headquarters. He hit the remote garage door opener, and the building swallowed his van up. If all went well, Luke Jr. would be pulling in behind him in no more than forty seconds. Before the car even came to a complete stop, all the doors were open, and the five of them jumped out of the van. They all grabbed masking tape and newspaper that were waiting for them on a work bench in the garage. Sonny and Marco started on the front of the van while Rico and Joey worked the back as Gina started on the driver’s side. They began covering all the exposed lights and chrome with tape and newspaper.

With the timing of a Swiss watch, exactly forty seconds after Sonny pulled into the garage, the door opened, and Luke Jr. pulled in. Sonny peered out the open door to make sure no one had followed Luke Jr. until the door closed and he couldn’t see out anymore. Sonny felt a weight lift off his shoulders. He was beginning to think that just maybe they had pulled it off. He bent down to continue his taping job. Nick jumped out of the car first and began hooting and hollering again almost uncontrollably. That was Unfuckingbelievable! Who is better than us? We got to do that again next week, motherfuckers! He was going over with his hands up to high-five Rico and Joey, who were more than happy to oblige.

That was until they heard the slighter-in-stature-but-huge-in-presence Luke Jr. He bellowed, This fucking job isn’t done yet! Stop the bullshit until we’re done. The hard part is over, but now the real work begins. Now, Nick, grab some tape and newspaper. Okay, just to review, here is the plan. Let’s finish taping up the van first. Then we will do the Crown Vic. Sonny will start spray painting them red once they are ready. The cops won’t be looking for red vehicles. Once the paint dries, Sonny, you can drive the van again. Joey, you can drive the Crown Vic. You guys will leave about a minute apart. Very important—have to have your baseball hats, gloves, and glasses on. You never know where they have cameras on the streets now. Drop the cars off at the assembly square mall as far away from the entrance as possible. Before you leave, wipe down the inside again so a microbe couldn’t survive. Then spray another coat of bleach all over the inside. No need to get away with this then get pinched with a fingerprint on the dash. Gina will follow Joey and then go park two blocks over where we practiced. The boys will walk over to you. Nick and I will be waiting at my dad’s lake house on Lake Winnipesaukee. Hopefully, these bags won’t be loaded with paint spray. I’m going to put on my plastic suit to open the bags just in case. I have five duffel bags. We will cut up the money at my dad’s lake house. We will spend the night and come back tomorrow like nothing ever happened and a whole lot richer!

Luke Jr.—like his father, Luke Fabrasia—had that special innate ability to hold the attention of anyone within earshot when he spoke. Nobody said anything while he spoke, and when he was done, they all just nodded and went back to work. That was all except Nick. You know you can be a real fucking killjoy? We just knocked off the bank for what one million, two million—who knows, maybe five million—and you can’t even take five seconds to high-five each other? You are really fucked up, bro!

Luke Jr. knew he should just shut up, but his age, even though he was light-years ahead of his brother in maturity, took over. I’m fucked up? You probably just killed a guy bashing in his head because he’s a Yankees fan, and I’m fucked up? Luke took a breath. We can deal with this later. Let’s get these vehicles masked up, painted, and the fuck out of Dad’s garage before he finds out what we did and he bashes all our heads in, capisce?

Nick was a heartbeat away from doing a Bo Duke slide over the hood of the car and smashing his brother. He then had a flashback of his father who loved to quote from The Godfather. One of his favorite quotes was when the Godfather told his oldest boy, Sonny, Never let anyone outside the family know what you are thinking. Nick thought thinking or at least feeling whichever, it didn’t matter. He decided that it would not be a good idea for him and his brother to be fighting in front of anyone, even these close friends and partners in crime. Hey, Joey, throw me some tape.

Sure, Nick, here you go, Joey said as he underhanded him a roll of making tape.

Within twenty minutes, both the van and the car were masked, albeit not very well, but for their purposes, it should be fine. Sonny went to technical school to learn body work and worked in a couple of body shops until he figured out manual labor on a daily basis was not his thing. That didn’t mean he wasn’t good at it. He was just lazy, if the truth be known.

As they were finishing the masking, he was already mixing the red paint for the quick makeover. He sprayed until the gun ran out. Then he mixed more paint and sprayed some more. This process went on for about an hour. While Sonny was painting, Luke Jr. put on a plastic suit, which covered him from head to toe, including adding a face mask similar to those used by deep-sea divers.

Nick had carefully laid out a plastic drop cloth and hung plastic on the surrounding walls. They didn’t know by experience but had been told if the money bags were rigged with explosive paint. They would make a mess, and if the paint got on bare skin, it was nearly indelible. Most of the time, they never bothered with the mechanism because it’s more work for the bank employees. Sometimes they just have one or two to screw with criminals who happen to rob them.

They all waited breathlessly as Luke Jr. cut open the first bag from the bottom. They were not sure if it was urban legend, but Joey had told them the bags were only-booby trapped from the clasp at the top of the bag. He then picked up the bag, and bundles of cash dropped on and around his feet. The six watching all let out yells of joy and high fives to each other. Nick grabbed an empty duffel bag, pulled aside the plastic curtain, went in, and filled the duffel with the cash.

As soon as he left the area, Luke Jr. cut another bag. Again, they had cheers of joy as the cash fell out. Nick again went in and got the cash. After about the fifth bag was opened and the cash fell out, the excitement of the unknown was wearing off. To Nick, it was now just becoming work. His ADD was kicking in; and this part, although very lucrative, was starting to bore him. He had just closed the curtain behind him when the heard the explosion. In the closed confines of the garage, the sound was almost deafening. He turned in time to see red dye spattered all over the makeshift plastic room.

They all stood there, stunned for a moment. What broke them out of their self-imposed shock was that Nick began laughing so hard it was borderline wailing. He was laughing so hard he literally fell on his butt. Through the now-red-stained plastic wall between the brothers, Luke Jr. slowly raised his gloved hand and even more slowly raised his red middle finger in his brother’s direction. Get another drop cloth would you please, asshole?

Nick was incapable of dragging himself off the floor at that point, so Sonny first put on some gloves and plastic booties over his real boots. Then he grabbed another sheet of plastic and went to Luke Jr.’s rescue. He wrapped up the ruined money and money bag in the plastic that was on the floor. He and Luke Jr. then laid out the new plastic tarp. He began cutting open another bag although he was no longer so concerned about cutting the bottom. Another urban legend busted.

They had stolen fifty-two bags of cash and five bags of coins, and only two were rigged with red dye. The second one was the second-to-the-last bag. For some reason, the first bag didn’t bother Luke Jr. The second one maybe, because he was so close to being done really pissed him off. Truth be told, what really set him off was Nick having another laughing fit. There was at least a minute of epithets directed toward Nick from Luke Jr., which just exacerbated the situation, making Nick laugh even harder. The only person unhappy when Luke Jr. opened the last bag and it didn’t blow up was Nick.

After the last bag of cash was emptied into a duffel, Sonny started pulling down all the plastic from the walls, folding and putting them in the middle of a tarp on the garage floor. Luke Jr. took off all his protective coverings and placed them in the pile as well. Sonny rolled all into a ball and then took them to the trunk of the Crown Vic and into a thick plastic drum that was in the trunk. He then poured two gallons of acid over the pile of plastic. Even though there shouldn’t be any prints left on anything, they felt better safe than sorry, so they added one more gallon, shut the top, took the drum out of the trunk, and rolled it around the garage. After that, they put it back in the trunk, knowing there couldn’t be anything left of the plastic. Although they were wearing gloves, they still sprayed the outside of the drum with bleach and wiped it down thoroughly.

Chapter 3

Luke Fabrasia, the head of the arguably largest underworld family in the country, sat at the bar of his restaurant Fabrasia’s. He was drinking espresso, reading the Boston Herald, and exchanging some words with Benny, one of his made men who enjoyed working the bar at Fabrasia’s better than working the streets in his later years. The TV over the bar was on primarily for background noise. Luke had it turn to NECN, which is the local New England News Cable station. Luke and Benny had been exchanging opinions about Boston’s most legendary sports figures. Benny, a die-hard Red Sox fan went immediately and vehemently with Ted Williams. Luke, preferring the violence of hockey, was expounding about Bobby Orr, the Bruins famous defenseman. Fat Hands Melasia, one of Luke’s captains as well as one of his best friends, had just wandered in when he caught the end of the conversation. "Hey, hey, you are both wrong. Tom Brady is the GOAT! Best damn quarterback to ever take a snap in the