Honor Thy Family

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The fog overtook them. Only the tiny orange specks of lit cigarettes announced the position of the other families. So far, there were three waiting inside of a cordoned area apart from the rest of the taxiway at Fiumicino International, also known as the Leonardo di Vinci Airport. It was Italy's largest and busiest airport, and today was no different. Even in the misty weather, the sounds of turbine jet engines echoed across the tarmac from countless Boeing 767 intercontinental airliners. An Italian flagged KC-46A was even spotted disappearing into the fog a few minutes ago; most likely about to take off for a test run.

At present, the Vanderbilt family from Chicago, the Giglionerro famiglia from Venice, and the house of Ishikawa from Tokyo, were waiting in their respective cliques for the arrival of one more family: the Vongola famiglia of fair Rome. According to the itinerary that all of the attending family members had received, the Vongola don would be landing any minute now, flying in from London where he had been away on "business".

Terrance Sinclair, an outside adviser and... "private investigator" for the Vanderbilt family leaned casually against the black stretch limo parked in the center of his family's convoy. With both hands in his pockets, one might mistake the man's extremely relaxed posture for a lack of situational awareness. However, that would be far from an accurate observation. Since just rounding the corner of the last hangar on the south side of the taxiway when their convoy entered, Mister Sinclair counted twelve luggage carts, ten airplane boarding staircases, eight parked aircraft in the immediate vicinity - all Boeing manufactured, painted with the emblems and logos of five different international airline companies - at least thirty tarmac workers and taxiway operators, and exactly fourteen Italian policemen and women spread out across the area to guard vulnerable entry and exit ways. None of them posed any threat.

No, the real threat was the presence of other mafioso from families that he had no association. The Giglionerro used to be rivals of the Vongola and were possibly the second most dangerous and powerful syndicate in Italy. They had been around for generations, starting as bankers and loan sharks. Because of their business, it was only natural for them to become enemies of the Vongola. But when Vongola Primo, as the first don of the alliance chose to call himself, proposed a truce with all the grace of a respected and charming diplomat, the rivalry was settled.

Then there was the house of Ishikawa. These yakuza originally had nothing to do with the affairs of the Italian mafia, but when their drug trade expanded into Europe, it was only a matter of time before they ran into the new alliance. But Vongola Secondo understood the value of foreign allies, so he made a wise deal with Tanaka Ishikawa, the head of the house at the time: a trade of resources. Europe would receive drugs from the yakuza while Japan would relish in high-grade weapons imports.

And finally, there was the Vanderbilt family. Sinclair was well versed with Vanderbilt history. Their ancestors had crossed the Atlantic from The Netherlands as indentured servants and survived on low income until Cornelius Vanderbilt left school in the early 1800s to build a shipping and railroad empire. His ambition made him one of the wealthiest men in the world. Generations went on and the Vanderbilt name reached across the generations of many families in America; even a movie star can claim part of the heritage of the family genealogy. Now, the core of the family is based out of Chicago, where an aging Anderson Vanderbilt oversees operations as the current don.

The wind suddenly changed direction and the sound of approaching turbines roared through the thick fog still masking the three patiently waiting families. Seconds later, the nose of a supersonic Aerion Mark II cut its way through the swirling mist and slowly taxied into the open area that had been surrounded and protected by the allied convoys. It took only a couple of minutes for the pilots to slow the private jet to a complete stop and power down the engines. With the strict supervision of several mafioso in black suits, a few taxiway operators ran out in bright orange vests and yellow headsets to slide the heavy chocks in between the landing gear tires and ensure the plane was properly parked.

Terrance straightened himself up and pushed off from the limo. He turned toward one of his fellow family members and briefly said in a raised voice over the sounds of other turbine engines in the background, "I'll be back! Watch over him!" The suited man nodded in compliance before Terrance turned to briskly walk toward the plane.

As he did, he noticed one representative from each of the other two families also started walking toward the same destination. They were to meet with Vongola Ottavo shortly after he finished descending the steps from the plane. In a sly gesture of confidence, Terrance reached up and tugged forward slightly on his vintage, short brimmed black fedora, ensuring it was perfectly cocked just to the right on his head.
 
A man in an orange suit sat by himself in the back, he fiddled around with his lighter in the far back seat, watching over everything carefully, his name was Chester Westly, born in the US, though it was never established from where he came from. He has a mostly anonymous back story, and he prefers to keep it that way. But one thing's for certain, he's a firebug, an arsonist for hire, he's confirmed that this obsession with fire dates back to his early teens, possibly before then, nobody's sure.

Chester has always offered his skill set in pyromania to families who offered to pay well, he's accepted job after job, no questions asked. Though Chester has always been anti-social. He preferred it that way, to avoid conversation, and conversation leads to him getting attached. And he'll hesitate when he has to burn bridges with certain people, and hesitation will get him killed.

Regardless of any of that, here he was, looking out a window on a plane.. God, what he'd give to light the whole damned world on fire.
 
The weather in Italy was something that Min Young hated, whether they were there for something important or not. A member of the Ishikawa house, Min Young waited in the car until the jet landed safely on the runaway. Wrapping herself up in long black trench coat over her thigh high length grey sweater dress, she fixed her knee length black boots before stepping out of the car to greet the Vonogola Ottavo, who would be exiting the jet soon. Min Young is the only Korean within the Ishikawa house, who proved herself worthy of being there.

Unlike most who beg to join the house, she was offered the chance after they found out about her background and skills. Not being an ordinary beauty of Korea, she had way more than that. Neck breaking looks, charismatic and leadership skills beyond others in the group. And let's not forget her skills as a femme fatal. No one could handle guns or knives like she could, being trained at a young age to defend herself and quite a high IQ. People tended to see her as just a pretty face, but she prove you wrong in a minute.

Seeing the representative for Vanderbilt group, Terrance Sinclair, a person she could respect even though he was from a different group. Standing close to the male, she crossed her arms over her chest, looking at him from the side. "Excited about meeting the Vonogola Ottavo, aren't we?" She questioned, noticing how he fixed himself up before towards the stairs that descended from the jet.

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Chester followed, saying nothing as he left the jet, he put away his lighter as he adjusted his tie and collar whilst muttering something to himself, he proceeded to slick back his dark-ish blonde hair and made a slow and easy exit.
 
There was something about fog that Reyes Almazan didn't like. Maybe it was because of the way its mist covered so many things, particularly potential threats? Not that she had anything to fear...yet. Reyes scanned the crowd around her, a disinterested expression on her face. She was a mafiosa; a member of the Giglionerro family. The other families, Vanderbilt and Fujikawa, were in their country now. Hers. This was nothing new, however. Many of times the allied familites would visit them here in Italy, sometimes it would be held in America or Japan. But, Reyes was grateful for not having to travel (too long) on the airplane to get to their current location.

The young mafiosa relaxed her muscles, running a hand across the scar on her upper arm. The mafia life wasn't easy, but it was worth it. Reyes would try her best to support the family that helped her bloodline strive to where they were now. Ah, what the heck. She might as well drop the heroic act. Reyes was extremely bored at the moment. Even a little irritated by the fact that she couldn't bring her camera along. She understood why, but it still made her a little peeved to be ordered around. Reyes, though in her early twenties, was still quite immature for her age. Heck, it was evident from her dyed, green hair! Her behavior may have been from being spoiled so much by her affectionate parents: two members of the mafia that take the concept of family, blood or not, seriously. Reyes knew of this flaw, trying to keep this childish side of her under wraps. Not only was it embarrassing for her, but it would be a disgrace for the Giglionerro. Reyes was so caught up in her stupor, that she didn't notice the Vongola family's arrival, via airplane. Finally looking up, she knew that it was her cue.

Adjusting the collar of her suit, Reyes followed after the two other mafia family members, each of who were current representatives of their families. She had been placed in charge of being the representative for Giglionerro family. A great honor, but it took thinking, something Reyes didn't feel like doing at the moment. All she wanted to do was snap a few pictures of the current day, eat some tasty sweets, and get some shut-eye. But, those activities would have to wait. Looking at the others beside her, Reyes couldn't recognize who they were, despite having been a member of the Giglionerro since her birth. They looked rather young: a tall, dark-haired Japanese woman and an equally tall brunette man with a curl that stuck out from his hair. Reyes looked away, not caring to know them at the moment. After all, they would exchange names and glances eventually.

Reyes was mesmerized by the sight before her. The plane that the Vongola came in, one that Reyes didn't care to know the name of, was quite spectacular. Even though the color of its exterior was a dull gray, Reyes couldn't help but find its structure beautiful. 'Dammit. I wish I had my camera right now,' Reyes pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. Outwardly, it may have looked as if she was trying to keep others away, albeit in a calm fashion. Her thoughts said otherwise. She made a note to herself to visit the airport more often. It would make a darling photo shoot.
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Aika squinted his eyes, trying to get a glimpse of the three different family of mafias and the famous Vongola Ottavo. But because of the fog, all he could get were dark shapes of the representatives. "F*** the weather." Cursing under his breath, Aika leaned on the limo casually and messed up his hair. Right after he messed it up, he regretted it. His usual habit came out. He desperately tried to fix it, but it was just too messy now. He sighed as he put down his hands. His hair still looked like a bird nest.

Aika searched his pants pocket for his cellphone, but couldn't find it. He remembered that he had surrendered all electronics to Terrance when he was allowed to come to this 'conference' of world-famous mafias. Pouting his lips, Aika complained about how time and electronics were precious to a teenager like him. Well, he's already in his early twenties, but let's skip those miscellaneous facts. He is forever a teenager. And like many teenagers, thousands of SNS would have piled up in this few hours already, and his favorite TV program would have ended few minutes ago. Aika rolled his eyes at this foggy and grave atmosphere of the airport. He couldn't even spot the faces of the representatives. This was so different from what he had expected.

Still, Aika tried to brighten up. Regretting and being gloomy was not his thing. If this isn't like what he expected, he would make it into what he expected.

"I'll be back! Watch over him!"
Terrance walked toward the representatives, and Aika blended naturally into the bunch of bodyguards dressed in black. He thanked to this black suit Terrance told him to wear. As Vandebilt family approached other representatives, he saw a tall Asian woman and a green-haired cuty. He was beginning to feel thankful at this decision to blend in. Two of them were both rare beauties.

"Excited about meeting the Vonogola Ottavo, aren't we?"
The Asian beauty asked Terrance. She must be from the family of Ishikawa, and the cute beauty from the family of Giglionerro. Both were foreign names, but sounded familiar to him. He scanned their profiles quickly in his head. The Ishikawa representative must be Min Young, the Korean genius scouted by the yakuza, and the cute beauty must be Reyes Almazon, the loved one in Giglionerro family. Wow, beauties with abilities.

Aika smiled expectantly as the jet's door opened. What would a Romanian beauty look like? Although, his job as an informant was more of collecting informations on forces of other families, he preferred informations on beauties like Min Young and Reyes Almazon. It would motivate him more if his targets were beauties, right? He justified sneaking behind Terrance in his mind.

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Void of emotion, Terrance's green eyes glared upward just below the forward brim of his fedora at the interesting man that emerged first from the Aerion's hull. He casually returned a lighter to his pocket before descending the loading steps and slicked his hair back. According to Aika's information gathering, this man was Chester Westly. For the most part, he was an unknown.

"Excited about meeting the Vongola Ottavo, aren't we?" asked Min Young of the house of Ishikawa.

Terrance's eyes briefly diverted to meet hers and he smirked. With a polite tip of his fedora, the man greeted, "Min-san. A pleasure to see you again." Taking the woman's question to be rhetorical, Terrance never offered an explicit reply. Who wouldn't be excited to see the eighth boss of the Vongola famiglia? It was like receiving an invitation to the Vatican from the Supreme Pontiff himself. To turn away the opportunity would be a grave insult.

A second later, after other bodyguards disembarked the private jet, the capo di tutti capi, the boss of bosses, emerged from the hatch. He was an aging man, to say the least. However, Vongola Ottavo still did his best to appear young and with the times. His finely stitched, silver pin-stripe, black Gucci suit fluttered in the light breeze that circulated the plane from the calming turbines, and his gray hair was slicked back with just the right amount of gel to give it a stylish suave. A thick gray mustache covered his upper lip. There was a polished black cane in his right hand, crowned with a gold pommel.

With a smile, Ottavo carefully descended the steps and stood in between his personal entourage, resting the cane slightly in front of him. Dark brown eyes fluttered over all three of the representatives, and with a collected, old Italian accent he said, "Min Young... Terrance Sinclair... Reyes Almazan..." Ottavo glanced around beyond the three of them and with an air of disappointment in his voice, he asked in plain English, "Only three families? Where are the Gambinos? The Miyazakis? The Marchettis? Where is the rest of my alliance?"

Respectfully, Terrance explained, "Ottavo, they did not come. We are the only three that agree on the new yakuza posing a threat." He was right, of course. In total, there were more than a dozen mafia families in the alliance, big and small. Some were American, others European, and a few were Asian. Vongola influence reached every corner of the world, and there was no place that an enemy of theirs could hide. But it seems now that the alliance is beginning to be seen as a joke; a forgotten idea of an older world. The families were becoming more independent, slowly changing the mafia laws as they saw fit. It is because of this rift that the house of Kiroshima has become so powerful.

Disgruntled, Ottavo conceded, "Fine. It is their right to reject my summons; I won't hold their hands. But should they ever need help in the near future, I wonder what better things I may prioritize first at the time they need us the most." He turned toward one of the suited bodyguards next to him.

As if on cue, the man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. He held the tiny note up to his unneeded sunglasses and announced, "Ishikawa, capo."

With another smile, Ottavo looked toward Min Young and said, "Well then, Miss Young, it looks like I'll be riding in your convoy this time. Shall we proceed? I'll need to be placed on conference call with the other convoys so we can discuss the details of our meeting while on the move."

Customarily, Terrance tugged on his fedora, smirked, and then practically about-faced on the tarmac to begin walking back towards the Vanderbilt convoy. This was done each time the Vongola boss summoned a meeting of the families. One of his trusted guards would draw a random slip of paper from his inside jacket pocket, like drawing from a hat, and then read the name of the family convoy that would have the honor of transporting and protecting the boss. It was both for reasons of security and morale. Who better to have along for the ride than the capo di tutti capi, the boss of bosses?

As he approached his own convoy, Terrance whistled at the Vanderbilts through the fog and rapidly circled a finger through the air, signaling for them to 'round up' and head out. Their destination: Gaiole in Chianti, a province of Siena; a total of 289 kilometers (or 179 miles) north-northwest of the airport. It would take a good two and a half hours to get there, where they would then meet up at a particular manor, owned by the Vongola, in the province's woodlands.

Terrance opened the back door to the limo and slid himself inside. He looked at the shadowed figure across from him and said as he closed the door, "And we're off... boss."
 
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At the arrival of the Vongola Ottavo, Reyes bowed her head slightly in respect. The capo di tutti capi, the boss of bosses, stood right in front of her. Reyes felt unworthy, almost proud, to be in presence. Especially when he had remembered her name. Looking over at the other representatives, their faces were becoming recognizable. Reyes cursed at the thought that she had a hard time remembering faces. Min Young of the Ishikawa family, Terrance Sinclair of the Vanderbilt family. Yes, it all made sense now. Reyes could have sworn she felt another pair of eyes staring at her, but she shrugged the notion off.

The mention of the other, absent families made Reyes's temperature drop. Why wouldn't they want to help out their most influential ally, the Vongola family? They would be affected, one way or the other. However, Reyes kept quiet, noting the disdain in Vongola Ottavo's voice. He was...intimidating, to say the least. This year, the Ishikawa family would be responsible for keeping the Ottavo safe. Reyes stared at Min Young for some time. 'I've heard of her. A genius of few words. Vongola Ottavo is in good hands...I hope,' Reyes mused, looking away before the woman could catch her staring. When they were dismissed, Reyes nodded and walked towards her stationed family. On the way, she noticed a blonde haired man, around her age, standing behind their group. With a soft smile, Reyes waved at him. They probably knew each other, though his face was unfamiliar (damn, her memory).

Each family present was to report to Gaiole in Chianti, which would take 289 kilometers to get there. Easy enough. Reyes was just relieved that they would be traveling on ground, rather than in the sky. There were more sights to see: airplanes could be a bore after a while. Reyes, placing her glasses on to see at a better distance, turned around. Reyes nodded to her family, gesturing to them that it was time to go. To add a little flavor to her message, Reyes threw them a thumbs up. Thankfully, most of the Giglionerro family were used to her expressions.

Jumping into her assigned car, Reyes climbed into the back seat. She looked over at the other occupants in the car, a gentle smile on her face. "To Gaiole we go." Reyes had a hard time hiding her anticipation, albeit inappropriate for the current situation. After all, they were all in danger. Reyes' smile subsided as the car started up.

 
Chester simply stood there for a bit, analyzing the people who were around him, nothing more.
 
Aika almost cried out when Vongola Ottavo came out. Not even a hair strand of the Roman beauty, but just an old man with some impressive eyes. Aika couldn't hide disappointed face. His attention shifted from the Vongola Ottavo to other representatives like Min Young or Reyes Almazon. Ottavo was sure an amazing guy, but the only thing bothering Aika was how Vongola were able to hide their boss' information so well from a reknowned (or rather infamous) hacker like him. Other feats like how Vongola conquered other families or how influential Ottavo is are out of his mind - unless his boss or Terrance asks him to look for it.

So Aika didn't exactly hear what Terrance said, because he was wondering how he will flirt the green haired cutie, getting out information that will help Vanderbilt, but more importantly, that will help Aika develop some fluffy relationship with her.
"-are the only three that agree on the new yakuza posing a threat."

Aika felt as if the temperature went down. The atmosphere became tense as Vongola Ottavo gruntled. Aika gritted his teeth.
'Aika Woodrose, you idiot! What are you doing? You are in the middle of mafias - of different families.'
He knew they were here as allies, but as the mafia world usually is, there could never be absolute trust. Backstab was almost a rule in mafia world. Aika reprimanded himself for not being attentive and careful. His main job was to collect information, but the priority is always safety of Terrance, and the boss.

'Though I wouldn't be much of help to Terrance when it comes to fighting.'
Aika is good with guns and fighting, but his tricks won't stand against the genius like Min Young. His specialty was with information - collecting, faking, and sorting out the real from made.

The Vongola Ottavo's speech ended and Ishikawa was chosen for the transport. Aika almost whistled out loud when he imagined Ottavo riding with Min Young.
'So women follow power, huh?'
Thinking silly jokes, Aika turned, and saw Reyes Almazon. She smiled softly when their eyes met.
'...No. Women follow love. Destiny!'
In a great misunderstanding, Aika erased Min Young completely off his mind. He decided to go for the cute fairy who just shot Cupid's arrow to his heart. It was a piece of cake for him to fell in love and even easier for him to get Reyes' contact number.

Aika happily rode the car and opened his lap top. Although his love is still fervent, the lovelife would have to wait. It was time for work.
When the car started to move, his computer screen was already filled with complex arrays of number and alphabets. Dim screen light lit Aika's face.
"Ottavo.. Min Young.. Reyes Almazon.. Chester Westly." They were all reknown and famous, but being the representative of a family means much more than being the ace of the organization. They are most likely to become to next leaders or their closest aides.
Aika smiled furtively as load of information was collected and sorted out in his head. While hacking, he opened another window and started writing down e-mail to Terrance. The even more specified profiles of the representatives would be informed to Terrance by the time the car arrives at the mansion.
 
As the Vonologa Ottavo exited out of his personal plane, Min Young could immediately feel his presence of this powerful man. The leader of the Ishikawa group was quite frightening himself, but nothing compared to his man who held fear in almost all mafia families around the world. Noticing Reyes of the Giglionerro family standing with them, she was surprised by the looks of the young girl, though not too much younger than herself. Off in the distance, she could see the well known pyromaniac Chester Westly watching them from afar.

It was obvious that Ottavo was displeased to hear that many of his allied groups did not show for this important meeing that had to do with an up and coming yakuza group, threatening the Vonogola family. Hearing that he'd be riding in her convoy, Min Young flashed the older man a gentle smile before telling how pleased she was to be transporting him to their next location. Walking to the car with Ottavo in tow, she opened the back door for him to slide into the back seat, where the Ishikawa boss waited inside for her return. Opening the window that separated them from the driver, she told him to go to the Gaiole and to connect with the other cars, so that Ottavo could speak with everyone as they made their way to the next destination.

Sitting next to her boss while facing the Ottavo, Min Young couldn't help thinking about what he had planned for the families that attended this meeting. Even though he was an influential leader, he still acted like any other older gentlemen, from what she had heard from her boss. This information was interesting to her, which meant to her that he was a kindhearted man when it really counts. When the driver connected the intercom with the other cars, Min young spoke first to see if everyone was able to hear them. "Please respond if you can hear my voice." She asked, waiting for response for each person.
 
As the Vanderbilt convoy began to move off of the taxiways, Terrance glanced toward the figure of a young brunette man sitting across from him in the limousine. His name was Noah Vanderbilt, and the next in line to succeed his father, Anderson, as the boss of the family. Terrance had, of course, voiced his objections in response to Noah's insistence on attending this meeting of the families. It was too dangerous for the Vanderbilt heir to be gallivanting across the world during such unstable times. He was only seventeen years old, and would make an exceptional target for a ransom.

"Are you sure you want to involve yourself in this, boss?" Terrance asked yet again. "It's not too late to stop here and put you on a plane back to the States."

Noah had been puffing on a fine Cuban cigar while sitting in the limo, allowing the smoke to be extracted through a custom vent in the ceiling to prevent the cabin atmosphere from becoming clouted with it. The young man had a taste for life's finer extravagances. Cigars, wines, and aged scotch were among his favorites to indulge in, though he did so sparingly and with tact.

He placed his elbow on the palm of his left hand and held the cigar in his right high and off to the side. In response to Sinclair's obvious request for him to turn back, he said, "Oh come on, Terrance... If I can't even attend a boring meeting of this old men's club, then how can anyone expect me to lead this family after my father." Noah's eyes drifted to the side to stare at space. "This is my duty..."

Terrance smiled as he leaned back in the seat and tugged on the brim of his fedora. I can't argue with that, I suppose.

A moment later, when the convoy had started to roll out from behind the airport's main terminal buildings, the speakers of the limousine crackled. Their driver's voice came over first, announcing that there was an incoming conference call from the Ishikawa convoy. Afterward, he patched the connection through.

"Please respond if you can hear my voice," Min Young requested.

"Vanderbilt family present and accounted for," Terrance immediately responded aloud. His finger then reached over to a console at the end of his seat and pressed a "Mute" button to temporarily disable the hidden microphones. He then looked over to Aika, who was busy tapping away at his laptop. "Can you hack into AISI and monitor reported ground traffic from here to Gaiole? I want to make sure our route is clean and smooth all the way up."




Inside of the same vehicle as Min Young, flanked a body guard on each side of him, Vongola Ottavo waited for the other convoys to report in before speaking.

"Grazie a tutti per venire (Thank you all for coming)," he began, speaking loud and clear. "As you all know from experience, we are strong when we stand together... as friends and allies. Now, it is time to show the world our strength again. We have a new rival that has stepped onto the stage... a new, dangerous enemy. I'll ask at this time that, if you have the capability of doing so, you up the dossiers we sent to your family's digital experts last week.

"Their name is Kiroshima. As of right now, we know that Yamamoto Kiroshima is the head of that yakuza house; and thanks to the house of Ishikawa, we were able to confirm the identity and roles of four more blood-relatives in high ranking positions. Nakamura Kiroshima is the eldest son of Yamamoto's and the second-in-command. Tanaka and Yoshida are ranking equivalents of Euro/American 'wisemen'. Finally, Yamada Kiroshima, the youngest of Yamamoto's sons, is in charge of their loan-sharks and smugglers.

"Some of you may be wondering at this time why we are considering them a nemico (an enemy)..." Vongola paused and the grip on the pummel of his cane tightened briefly before he continued. "We are mafiosi, ladies and gentlemen; not just common criminals. We are the elite of the underground, and we pride ourselves on honor, family, tradition, and our own laws. Among those laws... human trafficking and enslavement is punishable by death. We may smuggle drugs, weapons and money... but our fellow man? It is more than dishonorable, e 'disgustoso (it is disgusting)!

"The house of Kiroshima is beginning to interfere with our trades in East Asia, and they gain territory in Japan each day. We must put that dog down before its bite becomes too powerful."

After a moment's pause, Vongola smiled and his grip on the cane relaxed. "I'll see everyone in Gaiole in two hours where we'll discuss the strategy of this operation. Until then, addio!"
 
Amato Di Santis frowned at the cheery tune of his green-haired partner beside him. How she received job as the representative and not him, Amato didn't know. As if on cue, he went into a coughing fit, which alerted Reyes. "Amato. Are you okay?" she reached out a hand to him, which he abruptly pushed away. "I'm fine, I'm fine," he lied, covering his already covered mouth and looking away. It was a shame, really. A skilled, intelligent, mafioso like him being crippled by sickness. His immune system was too damn weak, in Amato's opinion. It was his uncle's influence, a CEO of an Italian bank that is associated with the Giglionerro, that kept Amato around. That, and his skill in quickly cleaning up any trace the mafia may leave from assassinations.

As Reyes was about to sink into her chair and remain quiet for the rest of the ride, the limousine came to life as they received a call from the Ishikawa. Reyes accepted the call, which switched to Min Young stating, "Please respond if you can hear my voice." Reyes nodded, despite the fact that Min would not be able to see her. "Giglionerro here and accounted for." After that, Reyes disabled the microphones, preventing their voices within the car from being heard. It was just common courtesy. After all, if they all spoke at once, it would be hell for the Vongola Ottavo. And, from what Reyes could tell, he was already going through enough. Reyes sighed, pulling off her glasses to pinch at the bridge of her nose. "I have a little headache," she murmured to no one in particular. Amato scoffed at her words, pulling down his medical mask to bring one of his cigarettes to his lips. "You're a member of the mafia. If a headache hinders you, anything can." Before he could light his cancer stick, Reyes plucked it from Amato's mouth. "These are the things that are getting you sick!" Reyes exclaimed, smirking as soon as she thought of using his words against him. "If a cigarette hinders you, anything can." Amato, unblinking, coughed in Reyes face, who pushed back into her seat to avoid the "cloud of sickness". Their little exchange was cut short by the speakers coming back to life again, the voice of the Vongola Ottavo filling up the limousine.

Throughout the Vongola's speech, Reyes' focus was on every other word. There was no need to listen to everything, after all. If she had the main idea, she could bring everything together over time. A new family called the "Kiroshima"? The name didn't ring a bell, since Reyes' Japanese was fairly weak. Whoever they are, though, they had the Vongola Ottavo riled up. Reyes shivered slightly at the thought of human trafficking. Thankfully, she never experienced it, but she's heard of it and its psychological effects. Besides, the thought of selling a human being sounded disturbing. Despite that, Reyes' opinion on the matter was somewhat weak. She looked over at Amato, whose eyes were fixated before him. Reyes admired the Italian man's determination to his family. Even though he was an asshole, he was a loyal asshole. Though, it could be for the fame and money, more than anything...dispelling the thought from her head, Reyes listened to the last words of the Vongola Ottavo.

"I'll see everyone in Gaiole in two hours where we'll discuss the strategy of this operation. Until then, addio!"

Reyes allowed her body to relax at the sound of "two hours". Relaxation was something difficult to accomplish while being a mafia member. You had to keep her eyes open and your ears clear of any threat or suspicion. Yes, there were rest days (couldn't have everyone stressing out), but they were minimal. It depended on each individual, honestly. Unfortunately, Reyes wasn't the relaxed individual. She tried calming down through remaining in high, calm spirits, but that didn't last long. Especially when she was in the presence of Amato. He was so high strung, it was rubbing off on Reyes. With that final thought, Reyes turned her head towards the window, admiring the beauty of Italy for the rest of the ride.

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The Italian countryside: ah, what a sight to behold. Especially for a man getting retired. Arnold Lansky, "accountant" of American affairs for three of the four families represented in the convoy, rode in the limo fourth to the last of the Vanderbilt line; a limo that was, relative to the other vehicles, rather unprotected. He was very old (but far from senility), small (but not small in ambition), weak (but not weak-minded), and stereotypically Jewish, serving the three families in the meeting that are expected to have a Jew in their businesses (that is, everyone but the Yakuza) with much pride, cunning, and "loyalty". The loyalty being in quotation marks because he was only loyal when it suited him, and right then, it suited him very well.

For the three families he served, the Vongolas (or Vonogolas, no one seemed to be sure which), the Giglionerros, and the Vanderbilts, they were the three biggest crime families in the world (excluding the big five of New York, and some others this author is barely acquainted with). They'd got footings in all the illegal trades in all seven (yes, even Antarctica) continents of the world, and those footings were strong. From the cocaine trade in Colombia, to the blood-diamond trade in Central Africa, to the Opium trade of Southeast Asia, to the Illegal stocks trade in the US; they were the Google of crime families. And this grandness of power, this kinship to godliness, well it was the reason why he wouldn't betray them.

Not that he'd never done so, though. There was that one time, one time way back when he was "young", that he was forced by the government to be a traitor. "It was either them or me", he related to one of his protegees a few years back. "Either I name some names, or get locked up for 20 to life. 'But either way', they told me, 'you're a dead man. They already know everything about our little talk, it's only a matter of time. But don't you think you're better off dying having done some good?' So I told them. I was between a, what do you call that? rock. Rock and a hard place. Real stressful time..." That protegee was young Noah Vanderbilt, heir to the Vanderbilt fortune (and lordship).

The worst he got from that confession was a literal slap to the face. That was it. Noah told his father, of course, but unlike most mafiosi, Anderson Vanderbilt had a rather forgiving heart. Didn't even give him a proper warning, like a horse's head on his bed or something. And since it was a betrayal limited only to the Vanderbilts, Anderson also didn't tell the other bosses. And he (Lansky) didn't get any boldness from that, no. All he got was a sense of gratitude, and his other senses getting knocked back into him. Yet another reason why he wouldn't betray the families.

And the third and probably most important reason was the pension. Like I said, old Arnold was getting retired. And his retirement was getting a lot of benefits from the three families. From the Vanderbilts, well he was getting the majority stock in a few legitimate businesses of theirs and a hefty monthly pension of (worth more than your salaries). From the Giglionerros, he was getting an addition to that pension. And from the Vongolas, he was getting a nice, rural Italian estate to live in, close to the relatively safe haven of the Primo's personal estate. Big gifts for a small man, with an unsure loyalty (though, come to think of it, with his impending retirement came the retirement of his ambition. Guess the loyalty he had isn't one that needs to be quoted. It was a sure thing).

A loyalty that did not exist in any form for the Yakuza. He was suspicious of the Ishikawas, thinking that they were always on the lookout for an opportunity to betray, to cause the ruin of all the other, more traditional criminal families. Anderson Vanderbilt shared this bigoted sentiment once, but it was broken by an astute observation of his son Noah: "Dad, don't you think you're only being biased because of what you went through in the great World War II? Things have changed now, it's time to face that fact, the Japanese are no longer the enemy; in fact, they'd make for one good trading partner..." When Anderson relayed this to Arnold, however, Arnold remained unconvinced, stating that that wasn't his only reason. He didn't say what those other reasons were, though.

But this loyalty was not something that he to all of his protegees instilled. Some of his protegees were more daring than him, more ambitious yet more stupid in all of their actions concerning the families. Most, of course, ended up "sleeping with the fishes"; some were forgiven, and subsequently followed in their mentor's successful footsteps; and others still, the meek minority, well, they didn't get their dues. Most of these loose brats fortunately never got involved with the business again, either by getting involved into other, more despicable things (e. g., rathood), or by voluntarily or accidentally hurting themselves permanently out of consciousness.

Most
. One of these unpunished Judases, a rather mad fellow named Roarke O'Riley, well he was still loose. Too mad to be good, but too smart to be dead; who knew where he would've been, but all knew how dangerous he could've been. At the time of the meeting though, no one really cared about him, as one man seemed to be no threat to those four families. No one except for Lansky, that is, who was suddenly seized out of his traveler's leisure by one very disturbing sight: upon an crumbling old wall was painted O'Riley's signature—and right next to it was a Japanese character.

"Grazie a tutti per venire... a new, dangerous enemy... Kiroshima... human trafficking... enslavement... e 'disgustoso!... I'll see everyone... Gaiole... two hours..." Kiroshima? Could that be what the character meant? And could these two hours of travel be the two most harrowing hours of Lansky's life? He thought of this, upon seeing the signature, while feeling tense, unsure... looked at the button for talking anxiously... felt light-headed...
 
"No problem! Give me ten minutes."
Aika responded in cheery tone as usual as he closed other various windows open on his laptop. He was almost done on collecting additional information on the representatives, but Terrance's order comes first. He accessed the website, and easily hacked into the system. This was pretty easy compared to other requests he received before. Aika soon got a print of the road map from the airport to Gaiole. Lines of different colors extended throughout the road on the map. Aika browsed through the database of AISI and clicked a yellow-colored line.
"At this rate, it will take exactly 2 hours and 7 minutes to get to the gate of the Vongola mansion."
Sending the map with the illustrated road to the navigator of the driver, Aika leaned back and hold his breathe when Vongola Ottavo's voice boomed out of the speaker.

"-As you all know from experience, we are strong when we stand together... as friends and allies. Now, it is time.."
Aika soon lost interest in Ottavo and focused on the AISI website.'Just the same stuff the school principal says at every opening ceremony of the school year.'
Although he picked out the best route, it can change always and he has to put an eye on the website. While doing so, Aika opened up another window and checked his SNS. He checked some status and was just commenting on a post when he heard Ottavo.
"-Among those laws... human trafficking and enslavement is punishable by death."

"Whew. They are surely going far, huh?"
Aika's job was to keep an eye on other families through nets and electronics. His primary job was to see if they are showing movements against his own family or preparing for any outbreak of 'little disputes' which usually results in bloodshed. So he was familiar with how many guns and ammos the Kiroshima family has, but wasn't very aware of what they do to earn money unless it involves his own family, as it was secondary job. Vongola Ottavo continued.

"We may smuggle drugs, weapons and money... but our fellow man? It is more than dishonorable, e 'disgustoso (it is disgusting)!"
Aika nodded. Although the world of mafia was full of backstabs and violence, there were certain rules. Selling and buying human very much violated the rule.
"The house of Kiroshima is beginning to interfere with our trades in East Asia, and they gain territory in Japan each day. We must put that dog down before its bite becomes too powerful."
Aika's eyes turned sharp. This was true. Some drug routes passing Japan and Hongkong were disturbed, thanks to Kiroshima. Mass transportation of firearms and weapons were also spotted near Asia. Although it was dangerous to make hypothesis, Aika was now almost convinced that those weapons must have moved to Kiroshima family.

"I'll see everyone in Gaiole in two hours where we'll discuss the strategy of this operation. Until then, addio!"
After a bit of pause, Vongola Ottavo ended his speech with light remark. Aika sighed as he relieved, but he noticed that the air was still tense.
'Well, well. I'm the lowest here, and it must be my job to light up the air.' Unlike other mafias, Aika couldn't withstand the serious air. So he decided to change the subject. Preferrably to some subject he is familiar with.
"So, how was the wine, young master? The one I sent you from Chateau Lafite-Rothschild? I had to hack the account of other wine buyers and snatch- I mean, line up to buy it. Hahaha!"
Not brave enough to tell Noah, the successor of Vanderbilt, that the wine given to him as a gift was stolen wine, Aika ended the sentence awkwardly. Even before he turned 18, Aika was a regular customer to clubs and bars where he learnt all kinds of alcohols, drugs, and women. Even when he quit drugs after coming into mafia, he was still familiar with the other two.
Aika laughed nervously as he scruntinized faces of Terrance and Noah.
 
Chester, deciding to seclude himself, decided to get into his ride. He pulled out his lighter and started flicking it on and off, again. It was the only thing that made him feel happy inside, he could only find peace in the flames of death, they compelled him to perform his job with love and compassion. He could never see himself doing anything else.

As the vehicle roared to life, he glanced out the window of the limo, wondering to himself how the people of the city can life with themselves as a whole, without the blaze of death. How could they not want to destroy for a clean slate? He shrugged it off, he guessed he was the only one who understood his cause.
 
Looking up from a news app on his cell phone, Terrance saw that Noah accepted Aika's attempt at humor with a slight smirk. "The wine was exquisite, Aika," the young Vanderbilt replied. "Thank you."

After a few minutes of silence, Noah spoke again. "Mister Sinclair," he said.

"Yes, boss?"

"The Vongolas. It has occurred to me that I may be out of the loop in regards to their history. What can you tell me about them?"

Sinclair slipped his cell phone back into his jacket pocket and adjusted himself comfortably in his seat. "Well... that's a bit of a long story."

"We have two hours, sir. That's a long time."

"I suppose it is." Terrance tugged his fedora and smiled. "Let's see, where do I begin? Well, I suppose it would help to know that there have been eight bosses of the Vongola famiglia since the start of the alliance. Before Primo, there were four others. I should also note that since the alliance began, the Vongolas have named their bosses numerically for each generation. In Italian, 'primo' is used as an ordinal number. Translated into English, it would be 'the first'. Thus, Vongola Primo would be addressed in English as 'Vongola the First'. After Primo, was Secondo - 'Vongola the Second' - and so on so forth. In formal writing, they would be addressed with roman numerals preceding 'Vongola'.

"Primo started the alliance after seeing the benefit of what he called the 'One Family' working together as a single organism with limitless power in every corner. Military, economics, politics. Thanks to Primo's vision, we can now gamble in all three of those areas. But it wasn't like that before Primo's time as the boss of that family. The Vongolas were strictly bankers. You could think of them as a reincarnation of the Medici family from the Renaissance era. Their expertise was strictly in economic policy until Giovanni Vongola, Primo's grandfather, revolutionized his bank's relations with the Italian government."

Seemingly intrigued, Noah inquired, "How so?"

"In the same way most mafias survive: they struck a deal. As long as the Italian police laid off of the Vongolas running their Ponzi schemes and insider trading, then the they would receive a nice bonus each year in their paychecks from the revenue made."

"It sounds like Giovanni just bought protection."

"At first, yes. But when his son, and then grandson, took his place, the family grew exponentially and became so powerful and influential, that the government was no longer the one that could control the deal. If the police changed their minds when Giovanni was the boss, then the Vongolas would have been done in too soon. He had to take a risk... and it paid off. After Primo assumed control, if the police tried to oust him, then they would most assuredly be killed in the streets. Practically every street corner in Rome was watched by a member or advocate of the Vongolas. They were quite literally everywhere."

"So the Giglionerro family was wise to accept Primo's vision," Noah concluded.

"Very much so, yes. If their former rivals had refused and kept trying to survive on their own, then the Vongolas would have simply wiped them out... or consumed them, whichever way you wish to speculate."

"But why didn't he consume them; bring the Giglionerros into the fold and erase the name? Didn't Primo speak of a 'One Family'?"

"In a sense, he did. The Giglionerros accepted Primo's proposal for a permanent truce and alliance. The first stipulation of the agreement was that the Giglionerros would always respond to the Vongolas when they were summoned. In return, the Vongolas gave them a third of their banks."

Noah's eyes widened. "A... a third of their banks?"

"You have to remember, by the time Primo had become the boss, his family was beyond wealthy. If it was for sale, he could have bought Vatican City and still have had enough to run things. It was also the ultimate gesture of trust. Remember, the Giglionerros were also bankers and economists by trade, so Primo knew that his banks would be in good hands. There was also the third stipulation of the agreement, that the Giglionerros would generate a profit that both families could benefit from. It was an unprecedented proposal, and one that the Giglionerros could not refuse."

"Primo was a clever man."

"The Vongolas' famous intuition didn't stop with Primo, sir. Secondo, Terzo, Quarto... all the way to Ottavo; all of them have made a significant impact in the mafia world. That is why they rightfully lead the alliance."

"So why have only three families responded to their summons?"

Terrance's smile faded and he turned his gaze to the floor of the limo. The brim of his fedora cast a dark shadow over his eyes. "The Vongola bosses have been unique. They did not take their predecessors' legacies for granted, like most children do as generations pass. As time moves on, the family's traditions remain solidified and their resolve grows stronger. However, the strength of their allies is fading. The later generations of the other families don't have the resiliency that the Vongolas do. The bosses now no longer prioritize their relations with each other and have drifted apart to focus on themselves. They've become selfish and are starting to care less about the stipulations of their pact with the Vongolas."

The conversation ended there in silence. Terrance could see under his fedora that Noah was now in deep thought, gazing out the window next to him at the Italian country side. In a very short time, Anderson Vanderbilt will retire as his family's boss, and his son will step up to assume command. The life of a mafia boss is never long and only rarely is actually glamorous. Time isn't very kind to them, and it's one of the reasons why the Vongolas have seen so many bosses since the turn of the 20th century.

Noah, Terrance thought, you'll make a fine boss. You're strong. Educated. Determined. Remain loyal to the Vongolas, and you'll live to see the Vanderbilts prosper even further.
 
Aika let out a sigh of relief. Although he received a smirk, he was glad that there was nothing more than that.
The young master of Vanderbilt had something, maybe what they call charisma and pressure.
'Though he cannot be compared to Boss Vanderbilt..'
Aika shuddered at the thought of the old mafia. Although, Aika was in position of regulating all the information, he had only encountered the old master once- and that was memorable, but not a very good experience. The current boss taught once-impetuous Aika how to behave by gifting him with a bullet right next to his temple. Aika never confronted the boss alone again from then. He actually, hid away from the boss, and reported only to Terrance or the young master.
Aika couldn't believe that the monsterous mafia is going to retire. He never seemed weak or incompetent.

"Let's see, where do I begin?" Terrance was telling the origin of Vongola to the young boss. Although Aika had read the story in his database, it was first time to hear it from some other people's mouth. As Aika leaned forward, he felt as if this was a story time, and thought Terrance may do well as a story teller if he had not become a mafia.

"-They've become selfish and are starting to care less about the stipulations of their pact with the Vongolas." Terrance ended his story, and the car fell into silence. But since it was not strained like before. Rather, the silence was comforting. Aika returned his attention to the lap top, and found out that he was pressing some random keys on keyboard, and has entered unrecognizable comment on his SNS. Gloomily, Aika erased the comment and rewrote it.

[10 minutes from the destination.]
That was the time when his program alerted him about his destination. They were already inside the forest owned by Vongola, and it would take about 10 minutes to arrive the the manor.

"O-kay! End to the long, tedious transportation! We are about 10 minutes from the destination, sir!"
Chirping out, Aika closed his lap top. It was time to get ready to get off.
 
As the limousine went over a bump, Reyes was stirred from her sleep. Greenery invaded her vision as Reyes' gazed out the window. A forest. Specifically, the forest that grew on Vongola property. Reyes smiled softly, her eyes still a daze. They made it. The forest remained untouched, minus the pathway made for vehicles. Reyes looked over at Amato, who was still asleep. Pinching his arm, Reyes managed to wake him up. Amato jolted awake, only to glare at Reyes. She caught him off guard, something Amato would hold against himself.

"Grow up already," he growled, rubbing the spot Reyes pinched. In response, Reyes rolled her eyes. He was too high strung. This would be there only time to relax. Once they stepped outside of the car, business would begin. "Ten minutes until we reach the Vongola mansion," stated the informant that was in the limousine with them, too far for Reyes to decipher their appearance. Reyes crossed her legs, resting her hands on her lap. Amato lit one of his cigarettes. Reyes was too preoccupied to notice, anyway.

As soon as the doors opened, all triviality was left in the limousine.
 
"Ten minutes until we reach our destination."

Chester heard this, and glanced over at the driver, saying nothing, and still fiddling around with your lighter.
 
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