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    Guns 'n Money: Episode 4
    Guns 'n Money: Episode 4
    Guns 'n Money: Episode 4
    Ebook82 pages1 hour

    Guns 'n Money: Episode 4

    By Ty Johnston

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    About this ebook

    It never ends for Jackie Cruise. Street war, that is. He finally avenges himself against mobster Frankie Sardona, and then discovers his own boss had set him up from the very beginning. Not one to take this, Jackie goes on the warpath again, this time tackling the younger brother of one of the Family's top clans. Friends at his side, Jackie brings more chaos to Chisel City and Chain Island.

    Part 4 of 5

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTy Johnston
    Release dateAug 21, 2015
    ISBN9781311516084
    Guns 'n Money: Episode 4
    Author

    Ty Johnston

    Originally from Kentucky, Ty Johnston is a former newspaper journalist. He lives in North Carolina with loving memories of his late wife.Blog: tyjohnston.blogspot.com

    Read more from Ty Johnston

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      Book preview

      Guns 'n Money - Ty Johnston

      Guns ’n Money 4

      by Ty Johnston

      Copyright 2012

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Chapter 1: Waiting for Somebody

      It’s late, nearly two in the morning, when the front door opens of Arturo Zelinski’s swank little house in the northern suburbs of Chisel City. Arturo is coming home from a late night with the boys. Probably a lot of drinking, a little whoring, maybe even some blow. As he enters and fumbles around in the dark, I can hear the revelry still going on outside as a bunch of hooting and hollering guys squeal away in their car.

      Arturo eventually manages to find the light switch. When he flips it, a lamp on a table bathes the room in a twilight glow. His eyes go wide as he finds me kicked back in a leather reclining chair, my feet up, a pistol with a suppressor screwed on the barrel aiming right at him from my left hand.

      Don’t do anything stupid, I say.

      He nods.

      You know who I am? I ask.

      He nods again. Uh ... yer Jackie Cruise, ain’t ya?

      That’s right, I say. Now unload your hammer. And be careful about it.

      With shaking hands, Arturo opens his jacket to reveal a hefty revolver straddling the underside of his right arm.

      Steady, I tell him, pulling back the hammer of my pistol.

      Gingerly, with two fingers, he reaches inside his jacket and lifts out his revolver by its butt end.

      Drop it, I say.

      He drops it.

      Now kick it towards me.

      He kicks it towards me.

      My eyes and the barrel of my gun never leaving him, I bring down the front of the chair, bend forward and pick up his revolver, stuffing into the belt of my jeans.

      What are you doing here? he asks.

      I raise my pistol so the barrel is pointed right at his face. I didn’t say you could talk.

      He shrugs and shivers.

      You know why I’m here, I say. Just tell me.

      Arturo shakes his head. No, really, I don’t have a clue. Maybe something to do with Sardona.

      I nod. Frankie Sardona had been an up-and-coming mob boss who had decided to whack me. Initially I had had no idea why Sardona wanted me dead, but eventually I learned the truth. After I had raised hell all over Chisel City and its outskirts, and had practically blown up Sardona’s house and killed all his men. For a moment there, I had thought my war was over, but then I had learned from a dying Sardona that I had been betrayed. All of that was a week ago. I had given myself time to rest, laid low with some buddies. Now I wanted answers. I wanted the truth.

      I had nothing to do with Sardona, Arturo says.

      Not what I heard, I say.

      I work for Roberto Carcinni, just like you, Arturo says, his voice frightened. You still work for Roberto, don’t you?

      That is the question of the hour, isn’t it?

      He shakes his head. I don’t understand.

      Tell me about Roberto and Sardona, I say.

      His eyes go wide. He knows the truth, after all. For a minute there I was thinking Arturo was out of the loop, or maybe he was too stupid to know what had been going on. But my instincts had told me one of Roberto’s top lieutenants would be in on anything going down with Sardona. Apparently my instincts were right.

      I stand and take a step toward him, the barrel of my gun never leaving his face. Start talking, Zelinski. Whether or not you make it out of this house alive is totally up to you.

      He makes it easy for me and talks. He doesn’t know much, at least nothing I hadn’t already heard or suspected. Roberto wanted to run the Carcinni clan, but his older brother Francis was the top boss. Roberto and Sardona had teamed up, planning to take me out, which would have started a war between Sardona’s thugs and the Carcinni boys. They thought they could take out Francis in the midst of all the bloodshed. But their plan hadn’t worked. Sardona had screwed up and I had lived. Then I went on the warpath, tearing ass all over hell’s creation until I took out Sardona himself. Now it turns out my boss, Roberto Carcinni, had been behind everything with Sardona the whole time.

      My war was not over. My best pal, Tony Olivetti, had paid the ultimate price for friendship with me. Other people had been hurt, admittedly most of them by me, but still. And there were my pals Jollie Lemon and Tank McGowan, who couldn’t raise their heads in Chisel City for fear they will be tied to me.

      After a half hour or so, Arturo has nothing else to say to me.

      Sorry, I tell him.

      He starts blubbering.

      I put a new hole in his forehead.

      My questions have been answered. Roberto Carcinni has to die. I’m not sure how big brother Francis will feel about that, but considering that Francis was or might still be Roberto’s prime target, it’s possible Francis might not care. Hell, Francis might even cheer me on, if he even knows about my personal little war.

      I kick aside Arturo’s quivering body, then put another quiet slug in the top of his head, just to make sure. A minute later I’m back on the street, walking and making a phone call.

      A few blocks away from Zelinski’s place, a van pulls up next to me in the middle of suburbia. Behind the wheel is Tank with a grin the size of Texas.

      You ready to roll? he asks as I climb in the passenger seat.

      Always, I say.

      Where to?

      Back to your place for now. Then ... well, we’ll have to see.

      Chapter 2: Bad

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