Spoiler
A white El Camino pulled onto the luxurious roundabout that served as the estate's driveway. Roughly thirty other cars were also parked there. Hampton stepped out of his car, and looking up at the elaborate mansion before him, would be in awe if he hadn't seen it so many times before. He approached the building, passing many other sharply dressed man. Most greeted Hampton in some way as he made his way toward the dark oak doors of the DeSanto estate.
The entrance room was tall, wide, and expensive-looking, as all good entrance rooms should be. Hampton didn't care to make conversation with the dozens of men filling it up today, and so he darted into the eastern hallway instead. There were a few unfriendly looking members here, but they all still stopped what they were doing to greet Hampton as he passed. He eventually came to a mundane door at the end of the hall. A muscular man in a dirty suit was standing guard beside it.
"Well," he said with a scowl. "If it aint the great Hampton Keller. Haven't sucked off the bosses enough this week?"
"I'd watch your tongue, Mark," Hampton said with a half smile. "By the time this meeting's over, you're going to be the one sucking up to me.
"I don't even care if they make you the underboss," Mark said. "I'd slit my own throat before I said a good word about you."
Hampton chuckled as he opened the door. "We'll see about that, capo."
There were four men in the room: a very elderly Latino man behind a mahogany desk, a spectacled, straight-backed man standing to his left, and two more caporegimes silently standing guard on either side of the room.
"Ah, Hampton," the old man said in a gravelly voice. "I'm glad the job was a success. I knew I could count on you for this delicate matter."
"Of course, Don DeSanto," Hampton said. "But surely you didn't call me here just to offer your congratulations."
"Always to the point," DeSanto said with a wrinkled smile. "That's what I like about you, Hampton."
Hampton smiled. He knew what was coming. No more treading water among the other capos. He'd played the game for years, made the right connections. He knew who the Don was going to choose to replace the late underboss, and he couldn't be happier about it.
DeSanto nodded to the spectacled man beside him. "Samuel, fill him in."
DeSanto's consigliere cleared his throat and spoke: "Our men have already taken over Wa-shae's operation in Vegas, but we've got problems."
Hampton's smile faded. He knew then that this meeting wasn't about a promotion.
"Apparently, Wa-shae was under the LHG's protection," Samuel continued. "And now they want blood. Logan's soldiers are on their way to the Strip as we speak. It's imperative that we hold Vegas, Keller. But the LHG has grown large since we dealt with them eight years ago. Most of Nevada is under their control, and word is that their muscle rivals our own."
DeSanto lit a cigar. "We made a mistake last time. Logan begged me for mercy, and I foolishly believed that their continued existence could help us." He looked up. "Hampton, you're to ensure that mistake doesn't happen twice. Go back to Vegas and deal with whoever he sends. Remind him who he's dealing with."
Hampton nodded. Though he was furious that DeSanto didn't give him the promotion he deserved, he knew better than to show it. "Of course, Don DeSanto," Hampton said. "I'll leave right away."
DeSanto smiled. "I don't need to tell you how grateful I am. Show me your best work when you arrive. Logan may be brash, but he's not an idiot."
"And Keller," Samuel said, "you, of course, have full command of the muscle there when you arrive. Use them as you see fit."
Hampton gave a fake smile. "I'll wield the Family's name with honor. Don't lose any sleep over this, I'll personally see to its success. Consigliere, Don DeSanto." He gave a small bow as he exited the room and shut the door.
Mark chuckled as Hampton walked out of the office. "So, how'd it go, 'Boss Keller'?"
"Fuck off, knuckle-dragger," Hampton said with a scowl, showing his middle finger to the large man.
Hampton could hear Mark making fun of his insult as he returned to the El Camino. It only bothered him a little. Soon enough, assholes like that would be history.
Spoiler
Jeez, these just keep getting longer and longer. I'm going to be banned for spam if someone doesn't stop me, lol.
Two hours had passed since Hampton arrived in Las Vegas. He followed the address he was given, which led to a huge warehouse on Valley View Boulevard. As Hampton entered the building, he saw twelve soldiers and one capo. Many, many large shipping crates were littered across the warehouse floor. When the men saw Hampton, they all turned to him immediately.
"Your reputation...precedes you, Mr. Keller," the capo said, moving toward Hampton. "The name's Holton Sullivan, and I've been told that I must relinquish my men to you. I don't see why the Don believes you can do my own job better than me - it's a crime, really - but an order's an order, I suppose." He extended his hand toward Hampton.
Hampton stepped forward and gave a curt laugh, knocking his hand to the side. "Do you ever stop talking, buddy? If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even be here. Now tell me, do you have any word on Logan Heights? Any of their soldiers in the area?"
Holton shook his head. "No, no, but we haven't been looking for them. We just got here, and we barely have an establishment. We have no word from Flagstaff, no word from the consigliere, and we don't know what to do. No one outside the Strip even knows who we are, and our grasp on the area is hypothetical at best. Our secret hideout isn't even a goddamn secret! Two thugs came in here the other day and tried to rob us!
Us! And when we attacked them in response, they got away! There's no luck in this city at all, I don't even know why we're here! Why? We have enough land in Arizona as it is! We have no connections in Nevada! To take a populated city by force without any friends or support in the
entire state!? Now that's just-"
"Again," Hampton said, "with the babbling. It's annoying. You're annoying."
Holton scoffed. "Well, if I've ever met such a-"
A gunshot erupted through the warehouse, and Holton's forehead became a red, bloody crater. Hampton immediately dove left behind a shipping crate as a loud, steady stream of bullets tore through the building. He crawled to the other side of the crate and peeked toward the warehouse's entrance. He saw six men with automatic assault rifles stepping into the building, and a bloody, ashy cloud on the other side of their carnage, before quickly snapping his head back into cover.
"Get behind the crates!" Hampton yelled to the soldiers as he stood up and fired two precise shots at the attackers. Two of the men fell, but Hampton had crouched back down before the rest could aim and fire at him. He noticed that one of the attackers - the blond one - had an insignia woven into his suit's shoulders. He must be the leader, Hampton figured.
"Shit," Hampton said to himself, knowing that the attackers would now just storm the crate he was behind. It was four against one. Hampton's mind raced for solutions as his eyes darted around the warehouse, hoping to see at least a few soldiers still alive.
He only saw two, huddling together behind a crate, hugging each other.
Hampton didn't have time to reprimand the men, and blindly leaped to the next crate over, trying to catch a glimpse of the attackers' location in the process. He saw them, just reaching the crate he was previously at. He pulled out his pistol and fired twice again, bringing one of the remaining men down. The other three quickly looked up at them. In a second that seemed to last forever, the blond attacker and Hampton locked eyes, and both realized that Hampton had nowhere to go.
Hampton and the attackers both raised their guns at the same time, but a shot rang out before either party could fire. One of the attackers slumped down, and the rest looked toward the dying man, startled. Hampton took advantage of this pause and fired two more shots; one in an attacker's head, and the other in the blond attacker's kneecap. He gave an earspittling scream and fell to the ground. Hampton lept forward and grabbed his gun without effort. He saw the source of the shot that saved his life - the two lovebirds had finally decided to contribute.
"Thanks," Hampton said uneasily as he turned his attention to the blond attacker and smiled.
"Y-y-you-" the attacker stammered, still in intense pain.
"Yeah, I'm amazing. Believe me, I know. In order for me to spare you, I'm going to need something I don't know." Hampton leaned down. "What's your name?"
The blond man spit in Hampton's face.
Hampton wiped his face calmy, then pulled out his gun and shot out the thug's other kneecap.
More screaming and yelping filled the room. "Now, what's your fucking name?"
"D-Devin," he whined, gripping his kneecap. Tears were all over his face.
"God, the people Logan appoints as capos...this is pathetic. I'd be doing the world a favor by ending your worthless, tiny life right here. And I think I will." Hampton cocked his pistol again and aimed it at Devin.
"No! Please! I'm an enforcer, you know! I can tell you things - a lot of things! Y-yeah, that's what you're after, right?"
"Yeah," Hampton said. "What 'things' can you tell me?"
"L-Logan doesn't even want Vegas," Devin said. "He just wants to kill DeSanto...some personal grudge!"
"Why the fuck would I care about that?" Hampton said. "Give me things I can use. Where is Logan sending his muscle from? Give me the location of every goddamn base in Nevada, and
so help me God, if you lie to me, I won't be so pleasant the next time we meet."
Devin immediately gave Hampton roughly a dozen sets of coordinates.
"And in which one does Logan operate from?"
"Carson City," Devin said. "T-that's it."
"Thank you...so much. I really appreciate it!" Hampton said with a smile. He turned to his two surviving soldiers. "You two - go to my hotel room, that's the Value Inn, room 124. Grab the giant duffel bag that's on my bed. I wouldn't look inside if I were you. Bring it here. Oh, and stop by Raley's and grab a carrot peeler. Need one of those for the duffel bag anyway."
Devin threw up, then began shivering.
"Don't die on me yet," Hampton said as he tossed his hotel key to one of his soldiers. "There's still one more thing to do."
Devin looked up, still shaking a bit. "W-what's that?"
Hampton looked back at Devin with an unearthly smile, his eyes glazed over and cold. "To prepare the message."
Spoiler
I'm just going to keep writing these big things until it's arranged for us to meet up somehow.
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