CAF- The Italian Job

The waiter at Gusto 101 stood waiting, staring at me as I flipped through the menu several times, stopping at the Cacio e Pepe each time. I wouldn't mind one of their grilled entrees served with escarole, cannellini, beans, and a lemony, garlicky salmoriglio sauce. The restaurant offers one of the finest Italian classics, yet each dish seems out of reach, looking at the price tags next to them. 

"Rob, don't you dare order a big meal. We are all starving here." Sam was reading my mind watching me from the neighboring building, seated with a sniper rifle. 

"Could I get another cup of coffee and a mini pepperoni pizza" I ordered a Pizza, trying not to look questionable. 

. The waiter smiled with his posture faintly insolent. "Sure, sir, waiting for someone. You have been here while?" 

"Waiting for a date, my friend. You know how girls like to keep us waiting."

"Sorry, sir, I don't know. I am single."John replied and grabbed the menu from my hand, and emptied my table of the six empty cups of coffee I had already drunk.

Gusto 101 was one of the most well-known posh Italian restaurants in Toronto. It is known to have the wealthiest often visiting the restaurant. It was not only regularly famous for the best Italian food but also a great place to host company meetings or organized criminals and mafia get-togethers. The restaurant was on the 18th and 19th floors of the TD building in Downtown Toronto, having the 19th floor reserved for these meetings.

"Come in, Shawn, Randy? Are you in position"

"We are in position. The 19th floor is empty, with not a single soul in sight. 

"I feel like the waiter is getting suspicious of me. He keeps glancing at me. He has not called anyone yet, though." I respond to my team via the hidden microchip in my coat. 

"Well, if you keep ordering coffee, the world's dumbest person can guess you are up to something."

"I am going to follow him." I mute my mic and follow John, the waiter who served me the seven cups of coffee. I take the cup of coffee in one hand as I subtly follow him, trying to blend into the crowd as much as possible.

John approached one of the washrooms and tried to enter it sneakily, making sure no one was watching him. I had seen him dial a number as he entered the washroom. Not wanting to take a chance, I kicked the door just before he locked the door and forced an entry to the restroom. Instinctively throwing the coffee on John's face, I slit his throat with a pocket knife and quickly changed to his uniform before the blood stains ruined them.

"Waiter is dead. I don't think he alerted anyone. I have his phone, but it is damaged and burnt with coffee."

"Be careful, Rob. We don't want to give out any more red flags. Wait a minute. I think they are here." Randy observed.

"Yup, that's him. Big Jim, they call him. Don't go by his physical appearance. He once single-handedly took out an entire floor full of armed bandits with just his fingernails." Shawn added.

Big Jim had arrived with his girlfriend Suzie and a dozen of his supporters, that took their positions around the conference room to ensure safety. Big Jim wore a black Armani suit that hung loose on his slender body. He was short, thin, and looked pale, almost as if suffering from a disease. Suzie was wearing a pink mini dress and black sunglasses and holding a clutch purse of matching color to her dress. She would touch up her makeup and fix her hair every few seconds.

Big Jim's supporters sported tattered clothing, wearing sleeveless shirts showing their tattooed arms and short breeches. They all were wielding massive automatic rifles and probably other smaller arms.

A few minutes later, Paul Ricca, a leader of another Mafia group, arrived with his aide. He was taller and rounder, especially around the belly, and not as well dressed as his guest, Big Jim. He, too, was followed by subordinates with similar rifles. 

"Why are we meeting here, Jimmy? I thought this place was off-limit for a while, especially after Tony's bust." Paul asked Big Jim as he squeezed into one of the conference room chairs.

Suzie burst into laughter as he sat down, almost mocking Paul for his size. 

"Why bring this insolent piece of garbage, Jimmy? She would have been dead meat by now if it were not for you."

"Relax, Paulie, the matter is serious. After Tony's capture, we cannot complete the demands of the east. They need more crates on the ship."

Rob, Randy, and Shawn listened to the communication taking notes of any more leads they could get. Suddenly, a commotion on the 18th floor due triggered by a woman's scream. There was mumbling and confusion amongst the crowd, one of which alerted the local cops.

"Shit, they found the waiter's body. We must act quickly." I quickly grabbed drinks from the bar and mixed sleeping pills into the glasses.

"We have not ordered yet. What is all this about?" Paul shouted as I entered with wine. 

"This is complimentary from our team, sir, as you are one of our cherished customers." 

The meeting room was soundproof and bulletproof as well. So far, the gang was unaware of the commotion downstairs. However, it won't be long till someone comes and warns Big Jim and Paul of John's demise.

"Do we really have to carry this fat one? Why do you get to carry the thin guy? This is not fair," complained Randy as he huffed his way to the maintenance elevator.

"Common brother, now is not the time to complain," Shawn replied, barely able to carry Big Jim.

I instructed Shawn and Randy to wait at each side of the elevator to avoid being in the line of fire in case other accomplices were around the place. Just as I had suspected, armed men emerged from the elevator, but before they could react, I quickly shot at two of the men directly in front of me. Randy and Shawn flanked them and attacked them from the side; within seconds, they were dead.

"Don't come to the basement, as more men are here. I am on the first floor." 

We didn't want to be identified by the local police or any syndicate. We are part of the secret Canadian armed forces (CAF), securing our borders internally by gathering intel.

As we left the elevator on the first floor, we saw blood stains and knew Sam was either captured by the mob or the cops. Before we could think of anything, the goons on the floor attacked us.

We ran, trying to dodge bullets, as there was no way we could face either one single-handedly. We had to leave Paul Ricca, and we jumped in a cab waiting outside the TD office and asked him to drive as fast as he could.

We were lucky to have left the building unharmed, yet the crew was still chasing us. Despite Big Jim being in the car with us, they had opened fire on us. We told the taxi Drive to take side streets where shooting guns at public would attract the cops towards the shooters.

"Shit, we lost Randy too. When did he get hit?" I asked Shawn. 

"No, I am alive, and I have not been shot," Randy replied. " I am just tired of carrying the fat one and fell asleep."

We couldn't help but laugh, and Randy, despite still not being safe. 

Five cars initially were in our pursuit; however, they could not follow our directions leaving only one car full of Big Jim's men, not knowing they were walking into a trap. 

We finally left the city, moved north, and arrived at an abandoned warehouse. As soon as we stopped, all armed men surrounded our taxi. Our snipers took the shot and killed them all. The Warehouse was a CAF base with snipers all over.

We had successfully captured big Jim but at the loss of our best comrade. We have not seen Sam's body. Hopefully, he is still alive. We will search for him if he is still alive.