A week ago, 16th July 1928, Marco Camoranesi was an ordinary man, earning average income, as a taxi driver in the busy street of New York. That night at about 1:30 in the morning, two middle-aged men entered his taxi. Marco approached them in his usual friendly way, but he soon realized that these men weren’t your ordinary New-Yorker.
“Just loose those two cars behind us, you will be rewarded.”
Marco was frightened, he knew that there were Mafia gangs around where he lived, but he was one of those people that thought that he was never going to see or be involved in their activities.
“B…..but…” Marco stutters, but he had no chance to finish, as one of the men behind him put a gun on his head, “Drive!!!” Marco had no second thoughts; he immediately put his foot on the pedal, and accelerated away around the dark corner. The next few minutes were the most frightening in his life. Marco, who knew the area pretty well, eventually managed to lose the two cars. But he is still uncertain on whether he is going to get out of this fiasco alive.
“Francesco,” One of he man extended his arm for a handshake, “And this is Fabio.” Pointing at the man sitting next to him. “You’re a good driver; would you be interested in working for us?” Fabio asked.
“Maybe you could give us a call sometime, you know, earn a decent income.”
Francesco slipped Marco his business card and fifty dollars as he exited the taxi. Marco was stunned; he had just earned fifty dollars for 15 minutes worth of work. He usually earns that much in one very successful day. Still confused and perplexed about his recent experience, Marco drives home; it took him a long time to sleep since he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his mind.
The following morning, Marco woke to the deafening sound of his taxi being destroyed, just as he opened his front door, a car drove by to pick up three guys with baseball bats firmly clutched on their hands. Marco’s taxi has bee completely demolished. Marco soon realized that this has got to be related to the whole Mafia debacle he was involved last night. Marco was confused; he knew that he’s jobless since his taxi is beyond repair, so his thoughts were immediately focused on the business card he received last night. He strolled over to the bin beside his bed, picked up a scrunched up card which says, Francesco Berlusconi.
He explained to Francesco what had happened to his car. Francesco asked Marco whether he was committed or not. Marco didn’t know what to do, because he knew that once he gets involved in the whole Mafia business, getting out will not be an option. Eventually, the word “yes” stuttered out of his mouth.
“Are you sure?” Francesco asked in his usual low-pitch, husky voice.
“Yes” Marco replied, trying to sound as confident as possible.
Half an hour after the phone call, Marco met Francesco in a nearby coffeehouse. Francesco was accompanied by Fabio and three other men he didn’t recognize. He was led to a nearby car, and was told to drive to Fifth Avenue at Central Park, South New York. When they got there they were immediately ambushed by a ten men who were armed. “Over there!!” Francesco commanded, pointing at a dark, gloomy building. Marco, Fabio and the other three men followed closely behind. Marco went into that building not knowing that he was never going to get out of that building alive.
By James Wihardja
