The Boss’ Daughter

[ The caveats: First, this story is based upon characters created for the MMORPG from NCSoft City of Heroes and the City of Villains addition. The names of locations and non-player characters from CoH form the backdrop for this story. Carla and Sergio are characters a friend and I created. There is no intent to infringe upon CoH or NCSoft in any way, just to write what is essentially a fan fiction piece. Second, it's also terribly stereotypical in the vein of old gangster movies. This is not intended to offend anyone, that's just the way we played the characters. I apologize in advance.]

“Ey Carla. Ya mind pointin’ dat blamed Gatling gun da other direction?”

The beautiful young woman standing beside the long black sedan pointing the barrel of a truly huge weapon at the dark figure behind the passenger window did not appear to hear the question. The sound of the slide ratcheting back was loud in the silence.
“C’mon Carla, it ain’t been dat long.”

Her shoulder-length black hair shifted gently in the cool spring breeze as she raised the impressive assault-rifle style weapon to the bare shoulder showing above her form-fitting red dress. Impenetrable black sunglasses covered her eyes and there was no expression on her face as she flipped the fire selection lever to ’slaughter’. The solid snap of the safety seemed to echo from the concrete driveway.

“Do I know you, slick? More importantly, do you know who my daddy is?”

The door of the sedan opened and a black slouch hat emerged from the shaded interior and rose slowly as the man exited the vehicle and stood up. And stood up. And kept going up. Carla’s carefully manicured eyebrows rose slightly as she took in the mountain of a man dwarfing her. Mirrored sunglasses wrapped around a square face beneath the brim of the black hat. A precisely trimmed mustache and goatee surrounded his mouth and matched the short-cropped red-black sideburns. Carla was tall for a woman, taller than her father and her father was almost six feet tall, but the top of her head would come in somewhat below this giant man’s chin. Grey shirtsleeves rolled back over the unbuttoned black suit jacket’s sleeves straining ominously over forearms that made Popeye look anemic and fingerless red leather gloves were strapped to hands seemingly larger than her head.

The roar of her high-caliber rifle on full automatic brought two machine-gun toting guards bursting through the high-arched doors of the mansion behind her. They immediately split to each side of the thick wooden doors and took shelter behind the marble columns supporting the ancient portico, black gun-barrels locked on the giant figure surrounded by a cascade of brass and compressed lead bullets. With a slight grimace the enormous man brushed at the front of his dress shirt and straightened his tie, knocking loose several more flattened lead pellets to fall to the ground.

“Carla! Put that away. Now.”

Carla carefully moved three steps backward before lowering her weapon to hip level. The barrel waved almost negligently back and forth in the general direction of the sedan.

“Carla. Now.”

“Yes Papa” she said in a small and almost disappointed tone. A quick motion of her wrist and the raven-haired beauty was suddenly empty-handed. She turned toward the slender figure of the older man standing in the high-arched doorway beneath the columned portico. “A girl can’t be too careful you know.”

A slight smile showed white teeth on the face of the man as he walked toward his daughter. “Carla, you’re surrounded by enough men to invade a small country. You just like showing off.”

An impish smile curved her ruby lips and transformed her face before she assumed an air of injured innocence. “Why Papa, you say the most outrageous things!” She turned her face back toward the man standing silently by the sedan. “Hat. Shades. Gloves.” she said musingly as she slipped one long arm around the narrow waist of her father. “Gio? Whynhell didncha say so?! You made me waste almost a full clip.” She looked at him appraisingly, “You’re a little bigger than I remember from the prom.”

A slow blush crept up from the giant’s unbuttoned collar across the man’s craggy face. The older man shook his head slightly as he held out his hand to be briefly engulfed by the other man. “Welcome Sergio Giordano. Thank you for coming.”

“It was an offer I couldn’t refuse, Don Tortelli” came a rumbling basso reply from deep in the cavernous chest. “Consigliere Castiglione mentioned that you needed a little, ah ’special’ assistance down here in Paragon. It was a fine time to take a little trip” he finished respectfully, tipping the front of his hat to the Don of the Tortelli Family and his daughter. “Don Lavigni sends his respects.”

“Come inside and we’ll talk” answered the older man as he guided his daughter back toward the mansion, the hulking giant bringing up the rear behind them. “I have this situation that requires an, ah, delicate touch” he said as the two machine-gun toting guards closed the doors behind them.

“Me? I’m jus’ da backup driver” rumbled the very large man through the open car window. The smartly dressed PPD sergeant’s mouth opened slightly to frame a suitably acid reply as the man passed a business card to him. “Tortelli Construction. We’re here ta make a delivery.” The policeman took the card automatically but had only glanced at it before the window in the rear door slid down soundlessly and a soft contralto said “Tommy! How’s the missus doin’ after her surgery? You know we were all concerned. Mario and I are just showing our new driver the byways of Kings Row. He’s new and we wouldn’t want him to get confused and upset, now would we?”

The flustered cop looked at Gio’s impassive face and stuttered out an apologetic reply before turning and striding quickly away.

“Gio, don’t frighten the nice men in uniform.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Mario, you stay here. We won’t be long.”

Sergio stepped carefully out of the car that was scarcely large enough to hold him and opened the rear door. Carla unfolded her long legs and gracefully stepped out, pointedly ignoring the hand he extended to help her. Shrugging slightly he closed the door and fell into step behind her as they approached the somewhat run-down facade of the large brownstone huddled in the back alleys of the area in Kings Row known as the Gish.

Carla reached for the doorknob, but Sergio’s long arm reached it first. She whirled on him angrily, but stopped at the look on his face. “Beggin’ yer pardon Carla, but dis is what I’m here for.”

“I don’t need no damn babysitter!” she stormed as her assault rifle materialized out of nowhere into her hands.

“Carla, you may kill me cuz ya don’t like it, but dat’s nothin’ compared ta what da Boss will do ta me if’n I don’t do my job.”

She snarled at him, but lowered the barrel. “Fine, fine. I’ll deal with you later. We’re here to explain to these goombah Skull twits that free-lancers aren’t welcome here any more. Their stupid little scams are bringing in too much super-powered attention.”

“Yeh, I’ve dealt wit’ a few of dem types” rumbled Sergio. “Dey don’t seem ta unnerstand how it is.”

“That’s right. We’re gonna take down crime and take it over til all these super-noseys run out of things to do here and get out. Then we branch out to Steel C and Skyway.” Carla made a complex little motion and attached the underbarrel flamethrower that appeared in her hand to the assault rifle. An actinic blue flame leapt forth at the front of the barrel.

“Some day you gotta show me how you do dat.”

“Don’t hold your breath big guy. A girl’s got secrets. Now open the damn door or get outta my damn way!”

Something almost like a sigh slipped from Sergio’s lips as he casually ripped the doorknob and lock completely out of the steel door. “Dese posers need better locks” he said as he kicked the door off its hinges and walked over it into the dark hallway. The skull-masked man flattened under the door moaned as Sergio stomped down and crushed the ganger deeper into the wooden floor. A second street punk pulled a handgun just in time to have his face rearranged by the bone and sinew mallet of Sergio’s right fist. The last tough made a split-second choice to go for his phone rather than his gun, but phone and body went different directions as Sergio casually slapped him into the wall. The unconscious man slid bonelessly to the floor as Sergio crushed the celphone beneath his black leather shoe.

“Silence is golden.” Sergio grinned bleakly as a sound like a monstrous zipper announced Carla had found targets for her full auto assault. “Or not” he mumbled as he turned and charged down the hall.

Mario moved the car smoothly away from the curb as Sergio popped open his cellphone. Carla let out a happy sigh from the plush rear seat as they slipped into the traffic flow like a shark through water.

“Paulie? Better let me talk ta the Doc. Yeah, I know. Just do it Paulie. Doc, we’re gonna need a coupla cleaners. Geezit, I know already! Carla got a little carried away. And for God’s sake don’ say nothin’ about dis. You know how he feels about it. Thanks Doc. Paulie’s got da beep from my phone. Lemme know when yer done.”
There was a sudden scream from the rear of the car. Mario whipped the big sedan between two sports cars with scant inches to spare and bounced over the median to turn into a crossing street, accelerating smoothly into the straightaway.

“WHATHEHELL!!” Sergio yelled as he was flung against the door by Mario’s defensive maneuver.

“I broke a friggin’ nail!” Carla screamed at him. “Somebody’s gonna pay for that!”

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