It had been a tiring and arduous journey. Benito Cakravarti was a diplomat not a sailor or a soldier. Yet he was not unused to the rough life. For Benito was not your typical diplomat. He was not born into high society or even mid-tier society for that matter. He was born dirt poor, the son of a lowly sicillian farmer. Life on the farm had been tough. They had led a meagre existence, barely growing enough to feed themselves much less to make a profit off, and what little profit there had been was usually just about enough to pay off the local Don his due, if you were lucky.
Ah, Don Ambrosini, Benito remembered the old coot fondly, well sort off. Don Ambrosini had been the man to give Benito his chance. The man who had pretty much lifted him out of the gutter. When a young scraggly malnourished 15 year old turned up at the gates of his villa begging to be given a chance, the Don had taken him in. The Don gave him a job, a roof over his head, food in his belly and perhaps most important of all, the chance to rise in life.
And rise Benito did. Whatever job the Don gave him, Benito did without hesitation. With a steely efficiency. Benito had learnt that at the farm. After all if things werent done right, well one was like to starve until the next harvest, and thats if Don Ambrosini hadnt had you beaten, maimed or killed for not paying your due.
Eventually Benito had worked his way up the ladder until he became the Don's go to guy for almost any emergency. Murder, rape, pillage. Benito learnt to do it all. And do it well. It had been a wonderful decade of service under the Don, but eventually all good things come to an end.
As a child, being the Dons right hand man would've been the pinnacle of lifes achievement, but sadly as you grow older you learn things aren't always so simple. Don Ambrosini was Don of only the small town of Corleone and the surrounding villages and farms. He was a small fish in a giant ocean. A fierce, proud and violent fish, a piranha, but in a sea full of sharks and whales, he was nothing. Benito soon realised that if he was to move higher up in the world he would need a change in employer.
Off course leaving the Dons employ wouldnt be so easy. When you joined the mafia you joined for life. When he was 15 he had grabbed life by the horns and taken a chance, one which had payed off handsomely. Yet sometimes in life, the smart thing was to sit still and wait for life to hand you an oppurtunity. And this was one of those times.
Don Ambrosini had always been struggling against the bigger fish in the Sicillian seas. But he never gave an inch of ground away. His family, the Montelaros had fought hard for it, and he would be damned if he was going to be the first Montelaro to be kicked out of Corleone. Yet things were beginning to change. Where in the past there were always several major sicilian crime lords, now power had coalesced into the hands of one brutal man, Giorgio Clementi.
Don Clementi had deep links with the highest echelons of the government. Some said even the royal family were close with him. The Crown Prince was supposed to be a close friend of his. There were rumours that Comandante Reis, then the fast rising star of the Italian military was his lover. Off course no one said this within Don Clementi's earshot for being a homosexual was unaccaptable in catholic Italy, particularly in the mafia, though it wasnt as uncommon as one might imagine.
Whatever the case, both Reis and Clementi were close, and as one rose so did the other. Both using their ever increasing power to help the other up a rung on the ladder fully expecting the favour to be returned. It was a fruitful partnership, that would eventually see Reis become master of Italy and Clementi, Don of Dons.
When Clementi put out the hit on Ambrosini it was a no brainer. Benito knew this was his chance.
The task was easy. Benito was the Dons most trusted man, his right hand. He had total access to the Don. He watched over the Don everynight as he slept. All he had to do was to wait for everyone to fall asleep, take a pillow and snuff the life out of the old coot.
As he stood there forcing the life out of the old man, Benito felt a pang of guilt. This man had been like a father to him. The Don has been a genius at earning the loyalty of his men. It was something he had drilled into them. They were nothing but peasants from Corleone, already conditioned to fear and respect the Don. By being generous to his men whenever their actions pleased him and brutally retributive when they didnt, he had managed to convert that awe into something approaching religious devotion to him.
And that conditioning was kicking in even now. He tried to think of all the crimes the Don had committed against his family. The times the Don had exacted retribution for their failure to give him his due. The time the Don had Benito's little brother, 5 year old Giuseppe mowed down right before their very eyes. Benito's father had told the Don that they had no money or produce as what little they had harvested had been used to feed the kids. He remembered the look on the Don's face as he blew Giuseppe's brains out. "Now you have one less child to feed" Ambrosini had said coldly.
It was supposed to spur him on yet he felt nothing. The truth was the Don had just done what he had to. Benito understood that. He had been terrified of the Don and traumatised by the event, at the time. Yet over the years he had developed a respect for the Don. The Don just did what he had to. Its what made him the Don and them Chickenshit farmers.
Its what Benito had to do if he wasnt going to remain a chickenshit farmer. Its what he would have to do if he wasnt going to remain some chickenshit goon of some two-bit small time Don. He felt his nerve returning full force now as he forcefully eked the last throes of life out of his one time boss and mentor Don Ambrosini.
The rest of the night was a blur as he crept around the villa unseen to Giuliano's room. He slit the throat of the guard at the door, and entered quietly. Giuliano and his wife were in the throes of passion when Benito came upon them. He still remembered the look of sheer shock on her face as he slit Giuliano's throat from behind. She gave one loud shriek before he had her killed. He hoped the rest of the household guards would just assume it was one of her regular squeals of delight during her love-making sessions with Giuliano. He then quietly walked out of the Dons mansion as the rest of the guards let him leave assuming he was on some sort of business for the Don. He had quietly walked out on one phase of his life into another.
After collecting his reward from Clementi, he spent the next several years working as a hired hand for Clementi and other major Italian Dons. Murder and assasination were his specialty. It was his niche in the market. After all Italian mafioso rarely had need for specialists in other fields.
Eventually he had come to the attention of Comandante Reis. The Commandante needed a rival in the military dealt with quietly, without it being traced back to him. And Clementi suggested him. Benito did the job without hesitation and with steely efficiency, as always. Reis was impressed.
Before long he was regularly sent out on jobs for Reis. First it was just murder and assasination. But he had a talent for being discreet and Reis realised he had potential to be something more. Reis had him attached with the Italian Foreign Ministry where he learnt to read and write. He also learnt the finer points of diplomacy and was introduced to Italy's intelligence gathering apparatus. Benito was a quick study and as with all his other tasks he handled his education without hesitation and with steely efficiency.
He spent the next decade as Comandante Reis' eyes and ears in the Foreign Ministry. He was a specialised tool sent in to handle discreet communiques and negotiations with Foreign powers, conduct certain types of espionage and off course on occasion kill the odd person. One night he would be dining with Kings and the next night he would be meeting with an agent in the seediest tavern in town. His job was to do whatever Reis wanted him to do.
And now Il Comandante had a new job for him. The Italian Fleet in the Aegean was to swoop into Greece, while another Fleet in the Ionian Sea was to offer assistance and support. The hope was to outfox the Austrians and retake the peninsula, without a fight. Off course in war things seldom go as planned.
Standing on the deck of His Majesty's Warship Innocenti, Benito watched with apprehension as the Peninsula came up on the bow. At any moment he expected to see the silhouette of the Austrian 1st Fleet off the coast of Athens. And yet it never came.
Benito never liked sailing and the prospect of a naval battle, something he had never experienced in life, unnerved him. He did not relax until the garrison at Athens surrendered at the threat of a naval bombardment. Greece was back in Italian hands for all purposes. Or atleast it would be once Italian troops held all major tactical and strategic positions. And once all Austrian sympathisers and spies had been rooted out from the bureaucracy and replaced with those loyal to Italy.
The latter job would be his. Sure a Governor would be appointed to theoretically handle these issues, some lick spittle that Reis owed, but the real task would be his to handle. It was a tremendous responsibility and an opportunity. And Benito was tired. Tired from the voyage, tired of a never-ending war and tired of consistently having to do the dirty work to get ahead in life...
He heard stirring from beside him as his companion finally woke. He smiled to himself as he took in her buxom curvaceous greek figure. Still power certainly had its advantages. He pulled her towards him and began to ride her mercilessly as he had done the night before. He didnt have much time and needed to squeeze as much fun as he could into his schedule. After all the rest of it would be dedicated to fulfilling Reis orders, which he would without hesitation and with steely efficiency, as always.
Yes, he would keep doing his job as long as he kept rising in life. As long as the Comandante had another rung for him to climb. And when he didnt... perhaps he would change employer again as he once did with Don Ambrosini...
Benito was re-energised now, both by his companion and the prospect of future advancement, as he thrusted ruthlessly, the sounds of Antonia's screams of delight ringing in his ears.
