Page 18 of Generation Lost

“That’s right,” nodded Ghost. “We’re going to fight back for them and for all of the others that they’re attacking out there.”

“Listen, I know how good you guys are, but you’re pissing in the wind on this one. We’re talking ‘families,’ the mob, hundreds of them, maybe thousands. You can’t fight them.”

“We can. And we will,” said Ghost, standing. “Do yourself a favor, Calvin. Take a leave of absence. A month if you can. Take your wife and kids and go somewhere else. If you don’t, they’re going to come for you no matter what.”

Calvin shook his head, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Help us out, Calvin. Where can we find them? How do we stop them?” asked Antoine.

Calvin stood, staring out the window of his city hall office. Below were the bustling streets of New Orleans, people moving like ants on a sugared hill.

“They’ve been squeezing the other casino owners. So far, they’ve been able to hold out and keep them at bay, but they’re causing all kinds of trouble every night. Fights breaking out, accusations of cheating by the dealers, you name it, and they’re throwing it out there hoping to ruin their businesses.”

“They want all the business for themselves?” said Ian.

“They could give a shit about the gambling,” said Calvin. “That’s a miniscule part of the business. The biggest thing with the gaming locations is running counterfeit money through there. Every night, the two youngest Rizzoli brothers go to a different casino and gamble. I’m talking thirty, forty, fifty thousand worth or more.”

“Okay, so they have money to burn.”

“You might say that. It’s all counterfeit. There’s always a young girl on their arms. Different one every night. If someone is interested in the girl, she’s delivered to their rooms for whatever they want. Minimum is two grand per hour. The counterfeit is so good it’s not caught by anyone at the casino right away. Some poor schlep that wins is given the money and takes it to his bank, only to realize it’s not worth the paper it’s printed on.”

“What about the girls?” asked Ghost.

“They’re not kids. At least they were smart enough to get that right. Most of them are nineteen or twenty,” he said with disgust. “Someone who was there said one of the girls was told she would be a dancer at their new club. To earn her ‘keep,’ they said she had to entertain clients until the new casino was ready. Those sick bastards watch. They sell the girls for the night, but part of the deal is they get to watch.”

“Why build in that area? It’s far away from the downtown area and the other casinos,” said Antoine.

“Yep. But what is it close to?” he asked. They all looked at one another and frowned.

“The docks.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“We need to investigate why they’re building these casinos near the docks. It’s an unusual place for a casino. Typically, you see them in the middle of fields or wide-open spaces. They are obviously bringing things in or shipping them out via the docks,” said Ian.

“You may have bitten off more than you can chew,” said Scarlutti.

“Well, that seems normal,” smirked Ghost.

“I’m serious, Ghost. These guys aren’t fucking around. Seamus and I don’t think it’s just women, drugs, and counterfeit money either. There’s something so much bigger here, and I have no idea what.”

“Why? Why do you feel that way?” asked Nine.

“Because this is old school,” said Seamus. His grandfather, Conor, walked in the door smiling at the men. He was still big, handsome, and tough as nails, although using a cane to make his way around the room.

“Conor fucking Laughlin,” smirked Nine. “I thought you were dead.”

“I feel dead most days. Why the ‘feck do you look half your age?”

“It’s a wee secret we’ll share with you,” smirked Gaspar. “Back to what your grandson said. What about this is old school?”

“You lads remember that in the old days, it was we Laughlins, Scarluttis, the Wus, and a few others. Our families made the commitment to end all the murder, drugs, women, anything illegal. You all knew that James’ first son died while serving ‘yer great country.”

“We remember,” nodded Nine solemnly.

“He swore he wouldn’t touch weapons again unless it was for your own troops.”

“I feel like there’s more coming,” frowned Miller.

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