My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

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redwinter101
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My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by redwinter101 »

Title: My Bloody Valentine
Author: redwinter101
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Moonlight or any of its characters
Note: This was written for the Valentines challenge. There was no eighth man. Everything else is as accurate as my research permits. Hope you enjoy.

*************************************************************************************************************************************



--- My Bloody Valentine ---


Chicago, 14th February, 1929


Warm, pitted brick, careworn and crumbling beneath his fingers, his dark pinstripe powdered with flecks of red. Resting his palms flat, Frankie steadied himself, braced for what was to come.

He cursed the lookouts for their stupidity; they were supposed to wait for Moran but had jumped the gun. He glanced sideways to Al Weinshank, dressed in one of Moran's suits, same height, same build; they must have assumed it was him. Now it was too late. As soon as Moran saw the police car outside he would run and all of Frankie's careful plans would be for nothing. The seven men now lined up against a wall in a run-down garage would die; Moran would still run the North Side and Francis Xavier "Babyface Frankie" Ryan would have to find another way to get control of Chicago.

A trickle of sweat escaped the brim of his hat. He knew what was coming but that didn't make it any easier.

One of the seven peered over his shoulder and laughed. They thought it was a show-bust. They thought they'd all be home for supper. They thought Frankie could be trusted. They were wrong on all counts.

The shuttered doors clanked open and the two trigger-men stepped in, moving the uniformed "cops" aside.

Frankie caught the shooters' eye and gave them the nod; he heard the mechanisms click and slide into place. Two Tommy guns, one with a fifty-round clip, one with a twenty. Seventy rounds. Ten per man. They weren't taking any chances.

Shifting his weight to one hip, starting to move away, he took a deep breath. There was no fear; they thought they were safe, no hint of betrayal. The assassins were rolling in adrenaline, ready for the kill. He heard the first bullet, felt the momentary shock as the first man fell. No-one cried out; there wasn't time.

They raked along the line in a matter of seconds. Just as Frankie half-turned to greet them, he felt the bullet tear though his flank. Then another three hit him in the chest as he spun. This was all wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to go down. The betrayer betrayed. Pain, blood, shock, a cloud surrounding him as he fell.

"Damn you, Capone," his last, whispered words.


*****************************


Three days earlier


Frankie scanned the suite as the double doors swung in. The luxury for which Capone was renowned was obvious to all who were granted an audience. The quiet opulence was a stark contrast to the brash, unrefined power of the man at its centre. Acolytes, servants and hookers whirled around him, a hum of purpose, their mission to please, their fear of his displeasure filling Frankie's senses. He wondered how anyone could stand to be so surrounded.

His quarry sat at the centre, wedged into a plush Louis XIV chair that wasn't quite wide enough to accommodate his bulk. A hand on Frankie's shoulder held him still until the finely-tailored bull looked up, waved away the quivering manicurist and beckoned him forward. He rose, arms outstretched as though to welcome an old friend.

"Frankie. We meet at last." A kiss on both cheeks, a cloud of cologne and swagger, a firm grip on his shoulders. "I can see why they call you Babyface." He chuckled at his own joke, moving back to his seat, inviting Frankie to follow. Frankie nodded in recognition to Nitti, Capone's shadow, the ever-present henchman, his usual leer fixed firmly in place.

"It's still early, my young friend. Coffee? The finest. Italian, of course." Another laugh, loud, forced, devoid of any genuine humour, echoed through the suite, taken up by all. Except Frankie. He held Capone's eye.

"Thank you, Mr. Capone. Your hospitality is most welcoming."

Capone smirked. "Very nice, Frankie. Your mother teach you those fancy manners?"

Nitti grinned. The rumours about Frankie's background, which he himself had carefully circulated, had obviously reached Capone's ears.

"Simple respect, Mr. Capone. Nothing more," Frankie replied.

"Respect. Respect. I like that." A murmur of approval swelled through the room. Frankie knew he was being sized up. He wouldn't have made it this far without Nitti's vouchsafe but the boss wanted to see for himself. So he waited. Coffee and pastries arrived and were duly served. Still Capone stared, waiting, watching. Frankie took the opportunity to make his own inventory, to compare the myth with the man. There was little doubt that Alphonse Capone was a man at the height of his powers. From his expensively-oiled pate to the soles of his snakeskin loafers, he exuded power, wealth, success. But Frankie noticed the vein twitching above the rim of his collar; his wasn't a neck made for a shirt and tie, no matter how immaculately tailored. The manicure, the jewellery, the elegant sliver of silk poking from his top pocket all signified a man who took care of himself; to Frankie they also showed a man raised in poverty, in dirt and fight and blood, desperate to present a veneer of class and success, success worthy of respect and admiration.

Frankie's thoughts wandered to the countless lives Capone had ruined, men, women, children killed, destroyed, bereaved in his quest for power. Taking him down would be a pleasure. But for now, Frankie needed him.

Capone beckoned Nitti forward and whispered, certain Frankie couldn't hear, "I wanna see him sweat. He doesn't need to know I'm in until I'm ready to tell him."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Capone," and Nitti moved, taking up station behind Frankie.

"So, Frankie, I understand that you and my good friend Mr. Nitti have worked out a little arrangement, is that right?"

"We seem to have reached... an understanding."

"Is that right? And the understanding is that you will betray your boss, lead him to his death, so that you can take over the North Side action?" His cold, hard stare brought silence to the room.

"That's about the long and the short of it." Frankie kept his tone neutral, waiting for the next question, just as he felt the press of steel against his cheekbone. Nitti cocked the gun. Frankie kept very, very still, eyes fixed to Capone.

"And you want me to arrange the hit and to allow you free run of the North Side?"

"And in return you get Moran out of the way, a generous cut of the action, and a friendly face running the North Side. Everybody wins, except Moran."

"Well that brings me to my question, Frankie, the thing that's been bothering me. You're Bugs Moran's man, his lieutenant, but you choose to betray him and throw your lot in with me. Why? And don't lie to me or Mr. Nitti will blow your pretty little babyface all over this suite." Capone's tone was matter-of-fact; for threats, he didn't need hyperbole. Everyone knew he was serious.

Frankie smiled. "Bugs Moran gave me an in but he was stupid. He allowed me to build my own action; he's past his prime and it's time for someone new to take over. I want the action; I want the money; I want the power. And I want you to help me get it."

A pregnant hush fell; all eyes swiveled to Capone, waiting for his response.

He waved Nitti away and rose, extending his hand. "Then we have a deal my friend. I'm heading for Miami to catch a little sun and have my picture taken by the local press. You and Mr. Nitti have all the details already worked out, I understand. Once the dust has settled, we'll break bread," and he strode from the suite, overcoat thrown across his shoulders, his angry wake vibrating long after his exit.

"We'll meet tonight, usual place, and finalise the details. Midnight. Don't be late." Nitti trailed after his master, leaving Frankie to make his own way from the hotel. He allowed himself a small, secret smile as he reached the street. These stupid, self-important men with their petty gangs; they had no idea about real power. With Moran out of the way, he could make sure Capone would soon follow and all of Chicago would be his. Control of the politics and trade of this town was his only goal; if he had to take over the bootleg business to achieve that, so be it. Small-time hoods weren't going to prevent him building the biggest business empire in America. Nothing was going to prevent that.


*****************************


A wet stroke across his face. A whimper. A soft brush of fur. Frankie roused with a gasp of pain. He had no idea how many bullets had struck or how much blood he had lost, but he was healing, slowly. Pushing the dog away, he turned his head to the tangle of bodies. Disorientated, he struggled to make out who was who. The Gusenberg brothers were nearest to him, together in death, as in life. Then Kachellek and Heyer, Moran's main guys. He started to rise, weak but recovering his senses, when twin alerts drove him back to the floor. Frank Gusenberg stirred, moaning, just as a wail of sirens struck up, approaching from the north. He couldn't believe Frank was still alive; he couldn't believe any human had survived. If Frank was cogent enough to see him get up and walk away, his cover was blown. And he didn't want to escape into the waiting arms of cops with questions he couldn't answer.

So Frankie lay down, where he had first fallen, waiting for the police to arrive and pronounce him dead and ship him to the morgue. He would make his escape from there. A missing body was much easier to explain than a man rising from the dead.

He cursed his stupidity. He should have seen this coming. He should have been prepared. He had known it might come to this; after all, you can't con an honest man. And Frankie Ryan had just been conned by the best in the business. Now, Chicago was lost to him and it was time to head for New York. He had hoped to unite the two cities in one grand empire, but that would have to wait. For now, he would have to settle for shaking the dust of this godforsaken city from his heels and heading for pastures new. On this bloody St. Valentine's Day, nothing had quite gone according to plan.

A new name, a new town.

"Babyface Frankie" Ryan was no more.

Charles Fitzgerald would try his luck in New York.
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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by eris »

NICE!!!!!

And it certainly qualifies as a Bloody Valentine. 8-)
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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by PNWgal »

Oh BRAVO!

Since I completely didn't pay attention to the title, I didn't realize this was Josef until the end - I just loved being pleasantly surprised.

LOVE the tie-in to the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. Not even Josef could get past Al Capone. ;-)

I thoroughly enjoyed this - great job! :D
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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by wpgrace »

Oh the British lady writes about the Underworld of Chicago... Lisa give you some insider info?

And I admit, I had Josef pegged as Frankie due to your notes...

Way cool, Red... totally different... and utterly wonderfully historical... another piece in the complex Josef puzzle!

St. Valentine's Day Massacre, from a vamp's eye view! Cool.
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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by redwinter101 »

eris, PNW, thank you :)

Grace, I finally finished it.....

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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

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redwinter101 wrote:eris, PNW, thank you :)

Grace, I finally finished it.....

Red

You did good. Tho notice no one is surprised... ;)
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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by Raven »

That was terrific!!! And the moniker...it couldn't have been more perfect. Josef was a Chicago mobster! I love it!
His keen observations of Capone and the surroundings really gave the story a...Godfather feel to it.
What a wonderful imagination you have Red. You engage all my senses in all these delicious, beautifully crafted stories...it just doesn't get better than this. Well...Mick...but that's a different story. :lol:
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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by redwinter101 »

Thanks, Raven. I write so much Mick, it's nice to take Josef for a spin every once in a while....

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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by Josefismysire »

Brilliantly done, Red! This is my introduction to your wonderful writing skills..I must seek out more of your fanfic!! Loved this! 8-)
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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by redwinter101 »

Thanks so much, Josefismysire. It's so lovely to have a new reader and I'm delighted you enjoyed the story.

I do have a few Josef-centric stories (all noted as such in my index) so I hope you get the chance to check them out.

Red ;)
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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by nutmegger911 »

You too!?! (I liked yours as well.) :lol:
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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by redwinter101 »

nutmegger911 wrote:You too!?! (I liked yours as well.) :lol:

????

Sorry, nm911, I don't understand...

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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by nutmegger911 »

redwinter101 wrote:
nutmegger911 wrote:You too!?! (I liked yours as well.) :lol:

????

Sorry, nm911, I don't understand...

Red
My challenge fic was also a (decicedly different) take on the same historical event! (Yes, I actually FINALLY posted something.) :lol:
Last edited by nutmegger911 on Tue Feb 10, 2009 2:26 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by darkstarrising »

Red,

truly outstanding....the first two sentences drew me in
Warm, pitted brick, careworn and crumbling beneath his fingers, his dark pinstripe powdered with flecks of red. Resting his palms flat, Frankie steadied himself, braced for what was to come.
I could see and feel the brick wall, a man's body pressed up against it, waiting....
They raked along the line in a matter of seconds. Just as Frankie half-turned to greet them, he felt the bullet tear though his flank. Then another three hit him in the chest as he spun. This was all wrong. This wasn't how it was supposed to go down. The betrayer betrayed. Pain, blood, shock, a cloud surrounding him as he fell.

"Damn you, Capone," his last, whispered words.
But what he was waiting for was not what he got.....the betrayer betrayed.

A wonderfully written bloody Valentine!!
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Re: My Bloody Valentine (Josef, PG-13)

Post by redwinter101 »

Thanks, dsr. Glad you enjoyed it.

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