Читать книгу The Legacy of the Assassin - Tony Jr. Bertot - Страница 4

An Identity Search

August 19, 1984/California

Tyler found himself on a dark street at two o’clock in the morning as a light rain soaked the city. Though the streets were empty, Tyler's instinct told him his life was in danger, so he quickly pulled out his .38 revolver. As he moved swiftly between the cars, he saw a lone figure partially obscured by the darkness up the block and across the street. Keeping his eyes on the man, Tyler moved cautiously towards him. Suddenly, he saw the stranger raise his arm and a second later saw a flash. Though Tyler heard no noise, he felt the bullet wiz over his head forcing him to duck. He returned fire as the stranger turned and ran into the nearest alley. Tyler quickly recovered and pursued. As he reached the entryway to the alley, he stayed low and took a quick glance toward the direction the stranger went. Another flash and the stone above Tyler's head shattered.

"Crap!" Tyler said to himself as he fired back blindly into the alley. Cautiously, he took another look and saw a single silhouette running toward the other end of the alley. Tyler chased after him with his gun extended in front of him, hoping for a clear shot. When the stranger reached the other end of the alley, he turned to fire, but Tyler was ready and fired first. The bullet met its mark; the stranger flew backwards over a parked car and disappeared behind it. Tyler continued his run, keeping his gun aimed in the general direction the stranger fled. As he reached the parked car, he peered over it and saw no one. He quickly ran around the car only to find his target had disappeared. He looked up and down the street, but there was no sight of the stranger. Then a noise from above caused him to look up. There he saw his assailant perched atop a building, looking down at him through a scope. As if by magic, Tyler suddenly found himself looking through the crosshairs of a sniper’s rifle aimed at his own head. A second later, he was again on the street looking up. In an instant, he saw the flash.

Tyler jerked awake and realized it was only a dream. As he rolled out of bed, he stepped on the picture he had dropped to the floor. The one of his mother holding a baby beside the man; the man he shot and watched fall into the East River.

It all came back to him now. He had arrived yesterday. They gave him a car and the keys to this house. It appeared to belong to the man known as Theo Gresco, alias Nick Costello, or whatever other name he went by.

Tyler glanced around the house, looking for anything that could tell him more about who this man really was. Nothing much could be determined from exploring the neatly kept house.

Realizing the house bore no evidence that he could see, he decided to call his aunt who had been like a mother to him since his own mother had died. Of all the people, he knew she would probably be the only person who could shed some light on who this man was. Sitting down next to the phone, he dialed her number.

"Mom, it's me Tyler. How are you? How are you doing?" Tyler asked.

"How am I doing? I am doing fine. But the real question is how you are doing and where are you?" she challenged.

"I'm in California visiting a friend, and I am fine. Really I'm fine," Tyler lied. "Mom, I have to ask you something. Did you know my father?"

"No, Tyler, I never knew who it was your mother married," she responded.

"Married?" he asked.

"Yes, your mother was married in Chicago. I know his name was Theodore something, nice Italian boy. That is all I know. Your uncle was furious with her because she kept it a secret from him until the very last minute. He did attend the wedding, but due to his job he had to get back here and could not stay long enough to get to know the young man," she told him. "You know how your uncle can be. He would have given Theo the third degree and done a background check and all," she laughed.

"So you never got a chance to meet him?" Tyler asked her.

"No. Your uncle went alone and was back in a few days," she responded.

"Ok. You ok? You need anything?" he asked her.

"No, Tyler. I'm fine. Please take care of yourself. I love you," she told him.

"I love you too, Mom," Tyler responded. "I'll let you know what's going on. Please don't worry about me. If you need anything you can reach me at this number." Tyler gave her the number and hung up.

After staring at the phone for a couple of minutes, he picked it up and called his aunt once again. "Mom, sorry but I have to ask you something else," he said.

"Sure, dear. What is it?" she asked.

"You said my mother got married in Chicago. Do you remember or know the address where she lived?" he questioned almost desperately.

"Well, I don't remember right now, but I'm sure I have the address somewhere. Let me look for it and I'll get back to you. Is that ok, dear?" she asked him.

"Sure, no problem," Tyler bid her goodbye, trying not to sound disappointed, and hung up.

It was several hours later when his aunt returned the call with the information Tyler requested. He now had a starting point.

Apparently his parents had lived on South Wabash Street in the heart of Little Italy. Armed with this information, Tyler decided to go to Chicago. First, he would try to find out what he could about the man who owned this house.

After questioning some of the neighbors, Tyler discovered that the man who occupied the house was known as Jack Ferrari. He assumed that Mr. Ferrari must be an associate of Theo Gresco.

Tyler called the people who had contacted him, to find out if they knew anything more about Jack Ferrari. The information he received led him to Jack's lawyer and accountant, David Spencer. A few minutes later Tyler put in a call to him.

"Hello, who did you say you were?" inquired the voice on the other end of the phone.

"I'm looking for a Mr. Jack Ferrari," Tyler stated.

"What did you say your name was?" David asked Tyler.

"I didn't. But if you must know, my name is Tyler Santiago," Tyler responded.

"Oh my God, Jack told me about you. He said you would be calling," David said aloud.

"What?" Tyler asked, caught by surprise.

"I guess Jack, excuse me, Mr. Ferrari, won't be coming back, huh?" David speculated.

"What do you mean?" Tyler asked.

"Look, Mr. Santiago. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but my instructions were quite clear. In the event I do not hear from Mr. Ferrari in more than three months, I am to assume he is no longer among the living. Also, if I get a call from a Mr. Tyler Santiago I am to forward you several envelopes," said David Spencer.

"What do these envelopes contain?" pried Tyler.

"I have no idea, but the instructions were for me to physically hand them over to you. Mr. Ferrari was quite clear on this as well as in anything and everything he did," Mr. Spencer informed him.

"So when can I meet with you?" asked Tyler.

"Well Mr. Santiago, you're the client. You tell me," David advised.

"I am not from around here. Please, give me a suggestion," Tyler said.

"Sure. How about the restaurant on the corner of Washington Street and Sullivan Avenue? Say around six p.m. tomorrow," David proposed.

"Not a problem," Tyler confirmed, and after jotting down the information, hung up. Not knowing what he was getting into, Tyler decided to check out this so-called David Spencer, so he called his old partner Eric Romano.

"Hey Eric, it's me Tyler. How you been?" he asked.

"How have I been? Man, the FBI is looking for you. Where are you?" Eric interrogated Tyler.

"What the hell do they want with me?" Tyler demanded, ignoring his question.

"I don't know, but the captain was in there with Sam and Sheila for about an hour. They were going back and forth. Finally, they left and they didn't look too happy. What's going on Tyler? You in some sort of trouble?" Eric asked him.

"I don't know and I ain’t got time for them right now. I need a big favor. I need you to look up a guy for me. Will you do that?" Tyler asked.

"Yeah man. No problem. I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for your ass saving my life on a couple of occasions. Least I can do. But you got to call the FBI and find out what they want with you. Do that for me. Ok?" Eric pleaded with Tyler.

"OK, man. You got it," Tyler agreed.

He hung up with Eric after giving him all the information he had on David Spencer, but lied about having a number where Eric could reach him. Tyler promised to call him back later that day.

After some time, Tyler decided to call FBI headquarters to find out what was going on. He was about to call them from the house, but decided against it as he was sure they monitored all incoming calls. He wasn't ready to let them know where he was.

After driving approximately thirty miles from the house, Tyler checked into a motel, paying cash for the room.

"Hello, may I speak to agent Sheila Cooper or Samuel Williams?"

After a few minutes and a few rings Sheila came on the phone.

"Hello, Agent Cooper here. How can I help you?" Sheila said.

"Hi, Sheila," Tyler said.

"Tyler!" Sheila almost shouted. "I mean Detective Santiago," Sheila said and then corrected herself. "Sorry, Mr. Santiago. I understand you are no longer with the police force."

"That is correct. I heard you folks are looking for me." Tyler said plainly.

"Ye... Yes we need to talk to you," Sheila said.

"What do you want?" Tyler asked matter-of-factly.

"We need to ask you a few questions about something that has come up during one of our investigations," Sheila said.

"And what investigation might that be?" Tyler asked her.

"I am not at liberty to discuss the matter over the phone, Mr. Santiago," Sheila said in a practiced “by the book” voice.

"I am afraid you will have to, as right now I am quite busy," Tyler responded.

"Tyler," Sheila said in a softer voice. "Please come in. We really need to talk to you."

"About what?" Tyler asked impatiently.

"I... I can't tell you over the phone. Can we meet somewhere?" Sheila pleaded.

"I am very busy right now. I promise I will call back in a couple of days," Tyler said.

"Where are you?" Sheila asked him.

"Sorry, but I got to go. Promise to call back in a couple of days," Tyler responded and hung up.

Tyler left the room, paid for the long distance phone call and was back at the house in less than an hour.

A couple of hours later he called Eric back. There was little to report, other than the fact that Mr. David Spencer was a successful lawyer who also had a degree in accounting. He had a couple of run-ins with the law, but nothing serious. The IRS had called him on the carpet on a couple of occasions, however, his expertise in both the law and accounting managed to keep him out of jail. Additionally, he had successfully defended some shady characters that were believed to have mob ties.

OCTF Headquarters

New York City

As John Connolly, head of the Organized Crime Task Force (OCTF), watched his agents Sheila Cooper and Sam Williams file into his office, he wondered why his superiors did not demote him for his failure to protect Judge Livingston from an assassin’s bullet. He figured it was because they were working in conjunction with New York City police, and his superiors and the city's politicians were too busy blaming each other. However, Connolly was beyond that. It was a joint effort and, as far as he was concerned, they were all to blame. Nevertheless, how could he blame Agent Sheila Cooper or Detective Tyler Santiago when they were both out of town protecting the judge? In fact, they managed to keep him alive long enough to bring him to the courthouse to testify. The assassin simply outsmarted them.

"Captain, we have been pouring over the information about this Theo Gresco," said Sam.

"And?" responded the captain.

"Well, here is what we have; He was born in Chicago to a Lucia and Sergio Gresco. At the age of eight, he witnessed his father's death when the store they owned was bombed. It appears his father pissed off a local crime boss when he refused to pay him extortion money. Immediately after the bombing, his mother took him to Sicily where he remained for most of his youth. While there, he learned how to fire several weapons and became somewhat of a celebrity for his marksmanship. Though I cannot confirm it, there was a strong rumor that he was solely responsible for the execution of several members of a well-known crime family after they had threatened his grandparents. Though his mother is dead, I cannot determine how and when that happened." Sam reported.

Sheila continued with, "In late 1954 Mr. Gresco, then 21 years old, returned to his old neighborhood in Chicago. He got married to a girl by the name of Sylvia Santiago. Also during that time, he befriended Nick Costello, a neighborhood thug. During the same period, two men were executed on the same corner where Theo Gresco's father owned his store, the one that had been bombed. An unidentified caller, who supposedly witnessed the event, named the two victims as Mario Pierina and Rico Vitalia, and claimed that he saw Nick Costello execute them.

“Though it took some time and many phone calls, we managed to break through the red tape and get a hold of Theo’s and Nick’s military records. These records show that both Theo Gresco and Nick Costello joined the service within a week after the execution of those men. They did their tour of duty together overseas. Where exactly, we don't know. However, both men were listed for many commendations, including marksmanship. What is really interesting is that both men received numerous Vietnam medals as well when officially we weren't in Vietnam." Sheila said.

Before continuing she looked at Sam, took a deep breath and went on with, "Of real interest is that Sylvia and Theo had a son. A son they named Tyler."

"Why would that be of interest to me?" the captain asked.

Sheila stared at the captain for a second, sighed deeply, and went on, "Because, sir, further investigation found that Detective Tyler Santiago is Mr. Theodore Gresco's son."

It took a few seconds for the impact of what Sheila said to sink in. "What!" the captain almost shouted. "Are you sure?" he asked them both.

"Yes sir. We double-checked and then triple-checked. Detective Tyler Santiago was raised by his uncle George, who happens to be the brother of Sylvia Santiago," Sam finished.

"Holy crap," commented Captain Connolly, who was now standing and holding his hand to his forehead.

Seeing the captain's reaction and the look on his face, Sheila spoke up, "Captain, based on all we have found we don't think Detective Santiago knew who his father was. He didn't know this guy was his own flesh and blood."

"Are you shitting me? How in heaven’s name can you sit there and tell me that with a straight face?" the captain asked her, almost shouting.

"Captain, Detective Santiago never saw his father. His mother brought him here when he was very young, and until her death, she was the only listed parent. As far as we can tell, Tyler never laid eyes on him again ... till now."

Sheila went on to explain, "Captain, I know this from personal experience. When Tyler, I mean Detective Santiago, and I were in hiding with the judge in Pennsylvania, we got to talking and he told me he had a vague memory of his father. He was very young when his father went away, and he never saw him again. When I asked what happened, Tyler said his mom told him that his father had to go away and may never come back,"

The captain stared at both of them as if in a trance, while shaking his head back and forth."I hope your attachment to Detective Santiago is not clouding your judgment," the captain said, directing his comment at Sheila. "This is too freaking weird," he added."Who else knows about this?"

"No one, sir," they both responded.

"No one can know about this until we straighten it out. You understand?" the captain told them while pointing his finger at their faces.

"Yes, sir, we understand!" Sam responded as both he and Sheila nodded their heads.

"You two need to understand, we are dealing with the Giordano family who has ties everywhere. Who's to say Detective Santiago was not planted here?" the captain raised his voice. "And now you tell me the man Detective Santiago shot, the man who fell into the East River, was his own father, whose body, by the way, has not been found."

There was a short pause as all three contemplated the gravity of the situation.

"Where is Detective Santiago now?" the captain asked in a calm voice.

"We don't know. What we do know is that he quit the force a few months back, sir," Sam responded.

"Well, find him and bring him back here. I would like a word with him," the captain ordered. "Also find this Nick Costello. Let's see what he knows about all this," the captain added.

"Sir, we've tried to locate the whereabouts of Mr. Nick Costello and have come up empty. After leaving the service he simply disappeared." Sheila stated.

"Then dig deeper. A man does not simply disappear. Somebody out there knows," the captain demanded.

Great to be Free

Wisconsin Penitentiary/October 1984

Joey Escalla, along with a black man, stood inside a holding cell while their release papers were being processed.

"What were you in for?" the stranger asked Joey.

Joey ignored the man and said nothing.

"Hey man, I'm talking to you!" the man yelled Joey.

Joey stared at the man, smiled and turned his back on him, then moved to the corner of the cell, ignoring the man all together. Twenty two years of silence and secrecy taught him how to stare people down without saying a word. With a population of over eight thousand inmates, the Wisconsin Correctional Facility was a magnet for rumors and gossip.

10 Months Ago

For the last twenty one years, there were many rumors about prisoner number 685244 in cellblock 432. Some said he was a spy, others claimed they knew him as the head of a Chicago crime family, and still others said he was a pedophile and was isolated for his own protection. The prisoner kept to himself and almost never spoke to anyone. For more than twenty years, he kept his identity secret from the rest of the population. It was not until a new warden took over the facility that things changed. The new warden immediately felt that all prisoners, no matter the crime, were to be treated with respect and dignity, and not just numbers. And so, prisoner number 685244 was now to be called by his proper name; Joey Escalla.

This bit of information spread through the prison population like a brush fire on a dry windy day, and caught the curiosity of an inmate known as Stan (Slash) Genova. Genova had been a member of the Sabrisio family before it was wiped out in the early 60's by what was later rumored to be members of the Giordano Family. What was even more important was the fact that the Joey Escalla who Slash knew, was rubbed out over twenty-one years ago.

Having information about a guy who was supposed to be dead was like gold in a place like this, but first Slash had to be certain. He had to get a look at the prisoner in cell 432.

Over the next four months, Slash concentrated on pulling library duty. He managed to transfer over to the library, and three months after that he managed to get onto the book dispensary detail. Another month passed before he was able to change with a fellow inmate and get to distribute books to those in solitary confinement.

In late April of 1984, Slash was making his rounds in solitary when he came upon cell number 432.

"You want anything to read?" he asked the man in the cell.

Joey Escalla approached the cell door and looked at the books in the cart.

Slash stared at the man on the other side of the bar and thought to himself, "I know this man. His name is not Joey Escalla. I just don’t remember his real name. But it isn’t Joey Escalla."

Joey looked up at the man and said nothing.

After a few seconds, Joey finally said, "No, not interested in any of your books."

Joey returned to his bunk and lay down. Slash stared for a second or two before moving on.

Joey recognized the man.

So after serving over 21 years of his 22-year sentence, he was faced with a problem that might jeopardize his release.

"Can’t have that," Joey thought to himself.

Slash was now consumed with trying to remember the identity of the prisoner in cell 432. He was convinced he knew him but needed to get another look. However, every time he went by the cell, Joey kept his back to him and would respond with a "No, thanks." With Joey not approaching the front of the cell, Slash was denied the opportunity to see him once more.

Joey knew it was simply a matter of time. If Slash found out Joey’s release date was fast approaching, he might escalate his attempts to uncover the truth.

It was two weeks later when Slash was stacking books in the library that three inmates approached him.

"Hey, Slash. What you in for?" asked one of the men.

"What’s it to you?" Slash responded as he turned and faced them. "What you guys want?" Slash asked.

"Nothing. We just want to know what you are in for," another man said.

"None of your fucking business," Slash answered back.

"Rumor is, you go after young girls," the inmate stated.

"That’s bullshit. I don’t do that shit. Someone's feeding you guys a bunch of lies," Slash defended.

"Now why would someone do that?" asked the tallest of the three men.

"Yeah, then what you in for?" they asked again.

"Tax evasion," Slash responded.

"Tax evasion," one of the prisoners stated almost laughing.

"Yeah, tax evasion," Slash answered back making a strong stand.

Slash had been around long enough to know he had to convince them he was no child molester, or it would simply be a matter of time before someone slashed his throat, or he got shanked in his sleep.

"Someone is feeding you bullshit. You want a piece of me? Bring it on," Slash challenged, bracing himself.

Just then, a couple of the guards came into the library. The men stared at Slash and nodded slowly backing off.

"We find out different and your time here is going to come to an abrupt end," one of the inmates told him as they walked away.

Slash knew he had bought some time.

However, two days later three men jumped him in the shower. They had beaten him severely and made sure he knew they would be coming after him again; if he lived through this one. Slash knew, as the guards carried him to the infirmary, that next time he might not be so lucky.

One month and thirty two stitches later he was released from the infirmary. Though the Warden had offered Slash protection in exchange for information on who did this, Slash refused to comment and was sent back to the general population.

Slash knew he had to get to the source of the rumors before someone took it upon himself to finish the job once and for all. As a result, Slash became paranoid about anyone coming too close to him, so he kept to himself as much as possible.

In every prison you have those who belong to a gang or are protected by a gang, those who keep their heads low and avoid any eye contact. Slash had been marked and needed protection; no one protects a child molester. He had to convince the gang lords he was no child molester, and he needed to find out who started the rumor.

After considering all of his options, he decided to approach the leader of the black gang. Italians were in the minority here, so he had to either approach the Hispanics, or go to the folks of a darker persuasion. In any case, he had to make peace before someone killed him. Luckily he happened to know one of the black gang members; someone he had met during some drug negotiations back in Chicago. Though reluctant, the guy vouched for Slash, and he was given a chance to talk to their leader. After some hard talking and an agreement to pay in cigarettes, Slash received protection until the issue was settled.

Word went out he was no child molester and would pay to find out who started the rumor. It would be almost six weeks before the information got to him that it had started in solitary.

Slash instantly knew it had to come from the prisoner in cell 432.

"Well. The guy is running scared," thought Slash. "Guess I'm going to have to visit him once more and give him the news."

It would be another three weeks before Slash got the opportunity to visit solitary again.

Approaching cell 432 he called out, "Hey, you want any books to read?"

"Yeah, sure, what you got?" asked the prisoner as he approached the cell door.

It was not Joey Escalla.

Slash was shocked. Joey Escalla was no longer in that cell. The prisoner now occupying the cell only knew the previous prisoner had been transferred to another cell but didn't know where.

Slash smiled to himself knowing full well it was simply a matter of time before he would find out where the guy going by the name of Joey Escalla was moved to, and time was all they had.

Using the vehicle of gossip and rumors, Joey was able to spread the word that the man known to all as Slash had raped a young child and had gotten away with it. He knew this would buy him some time and maybe eliminate the threat altogether. Joey was pleased when he found out that Slash had been attacked. Unfortunately, he had not been killed, forcing Joey to come up with another plan to avoid any future encounters with Slash. Since he had been a model prisoner, the warden was cooperative in allowing Joey to move out of solitary confinement for the remainder of his stay; now only several weeks away. As long as Slash did not get wind of his release date, he would be ok.

However, that was not the case. A month before Joey was scheduled to be released, Slash discovered where he had been moved and quickly took steps to get close to him.

Pushing his wagon filled with books, Slash came alongside Joey's cell. "Hey, Joey, you want any books?" Slash asked as he stared at the man in the cell.

Joey got up and walked over to the cell door. "Sure. Do you have the book, Dead Men Tell No Tales?” Joey asked in a whisper, barely audible, while staring into his eyes.

Slash's confidence began to wither as he realized this man was not backing down now, with his menacing stare revealing his demonic intent.

"Who... Who's the book by?" asked Slash.

"I believe it was written by Frank Sabrisio," replied Joey, again whispering. "You ever heard of him?" Joey asked Slash in a very low voice.

Now backing up slightly from the cell door, Slash responded with, "I... I don't believe I have."

"Oh, pity. I am sure you would enjoy it. Especially at night, when you are all alone. By the way, I have some real good friends living in Chicago in the Chinatown district. Isn't that where your mother lives?" Joey asked, once again in a very low voice so that no one else could overhear what he was saying. "Have a good day, Mr. Genova," Joey said as he stared at Slash and smiled.

Slash stared back as a chill ran through his body. This son of a bitch just threatened his mother.

Slash moved closer to the cell, and in a controlled voice said, "You listen up you fucking bastard. I don't know what your shit is, but nobody threatens my family. Your days here are now numbered," he told Joey.

Joey stared back at Slash, smiled, and once more approached Slash."Well then if you are man enough to come after me, I look forward to it. And when I am done with you, I will make sure my friends pay your mother, your sister, Brenda, and your daughter, Eileen, my respects," Joey told Slash in a cold and calmed voice.

Slash hesitated as he suddenly realized who this man was. Like a wave rushing to shore it all came back to him now.

There was another rumor about how the Sabrisio family became extinct, and it involved the man at whom he was now staring. Slash's blood ran cold, as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Only now did he realize the danger he had put himself and his family in.

"I'm sorry, mister... I... I didn't mean anything. I... I wasn't thinking." Slash told Joey, now stuttering some.

"Have a good day," Joey told him as he turned his back on Slash, going deeper into his cell.

"You won't be getting any static from me, sir," Slash told Joey with a shaking voice as he quickly pushed his cart along.

Present Day

The black man stared at Joey and mumbled something about not giving a shit and went to the opposite corner.

Joey stared out beyond the bars separating him from freedom, wondering if he would ever get to the other side. Suddenly, a guard approached his cell. "Escalla!" he shouted out.

"Yeah," Joey responded.

The guard opened the cell and led Joey out. "Come with me," the guard told him as he handed him a couple of papers. This came easy for Joey after twenty plus years of being told what to do and what not to do.

The two men walked along a narrow corridor which ended at a closed solid gate. The guard motioned to a camera staring down at them from the upper right corner of the wall. The gate cranked open with a clanking noise. Both men walked through the opening. A man at a desk reached for the papers Joey was carrying.

"Joey Escalla?" he asked.

"Yeah," Joey replied.

"Sign here," the man said pointing to where Joey was to put his signature. Joey signed and stepped back.

The guard turned to Joey and grabbed the handcuffs that bound him and unlocked them. "Looks like you are a free man," the guard said nodding toward the outside. Joey stared at him and then approached the front door where another guard stood. As Joey embraced the freedom awaiting him, the guard opened the door and Joey stepped through.

"Hey, Escalla," Joey heard someone yell.

Joey turned and saw another guard approaching him with a bag. "Don’t you want your stuff?" he asked Joey.

"Yeah, sure," Joey responded as he grabbed the bag. He looked in the bag and all he found was some old clothes and a wallet. The wallet contained a driver’s license and a social security card with the name Joey Escalla on it. There was nothing else in the bag. Joey turned and continued his trek toward the door that was now being held opened by the other guard.

"Good luck, Joey," he heard someone say. Joey did not turn and simply kept walking.

Once past the doors he looked around and found himself on the other side of the fence that surrounded the penitentiary. He didn't remember coming in this way, so it was a surprise to him.

"Guess things change after twenty two years," Joey thought to himself. A short distance away, he saw a bus stop and headed toward it.

Joey Escalla was finally a free man. When he first made his deal with the feds he figured he would be out in just a few years, never thinking they were going to slap him with homicide, resulting in his spending over twenty two years in the slammer.

"Wonder what Theo has been up to?" he wondered.

Joey faked his death because he knew Theo would be watching, and once Theo thought he was dead he would move on and get out of town. Theo had saved his life on several occasions and he owed him that much.

"Just didn't know it was going to last twenty plus years. But hell, such is life and now I am free once again. Twenty two years older, but free nonetheless," Joey thought to himself while all the time smiling.

So as this life ended for Joey Escalla, a new life began for the man known by his few friends as Nick Costello.