Tony is a man of the fine arts of con artistry, who coined he "owns the game" after a successful bank of Downtown Chicago robbery. This was the life of a man who did things his way, when he wanted to, how he wanted to. This, of course, did not mean that his value of human life was gone, it did mean, however, if you stood between what he wanted and what he didn't, he'd push through you to get it. Tony was no average man, this was the great-grandson of a famous mobster in the late '30s and early '40s. Costello knew what he was destined for, fast cars, good clothes, money, and a bright, bright future.
It all started when Tony had to take over his father's crime family. His father, Davie, was handing down power to his next of kin whilst he was in the hospital. Davie had a serious form of cancer, and was predicted to pass in the next coming few days. As his guards and entourage sat around him in the hospital room, eventually an eerie silence fell upon the room once the flat-line did all the speaking. Everyone was quiet, including Tony, who was standing at the end of the hospital bed staring in front of him, looking at his deceased father laying peacefully and calmly in the bed.
"Listen, Tony, we'll make sure he's taken care of, but your father would want you prioritizin' the business he built for you back home, you should go and swing by. Make sure everything's alright, yeah?" Nicoletti said, brushing Tony's shoulder and then turning toward the doorway, signaling for a doctor. Tony looked down at his jacket pocket, pulled out his watch, and tucked it back in. 1:30p.m., the watch read. Tony knew what he to do, it was for the best and the good of the family. Walking outside the hotel room, he passed by at least twenty to thirty other mobsters in the hallway, all of them against both walls to his left and right wearing full trench coats. They knew by the look in Tony's eyes the news already, and as Tony passed them, they took off their hats and covered their hearts. Outside, his black Cadillac was waiting for him.
"May I take your coat, sir?" One of his henchmen asked. Tony slid his coat off, and got into the backseat of the car. Pulling out his phone, Tony dialed a few of his father's good friends, knowing just who to call. Establishing a meeting later on that day, he took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for the journey back home. Tony went to the end of the round table. The room was filled with the smell of Cuban cigars, and the only light that emitted were the lamps hung along the walls on both sides of the room, except for the light of the sun in the afternoon which shown in the through the closed blinds of the window behind Tony. Pulling his chair up to the rounded, long desk, Tony waited until all fifteen men had sat down before he said anything.
Dipping his cigar ash into the tray, Tony sighed heavily and looked up.
"We have a problem, I was looking through some of our financial records and.. we may not have enough money to cover another run out of the country to Peru, now I know what you may be thinkin', what are we gonna do? Well, I already covered for that.. We uh, we're gonna have to uh, do something big, something that can be done swiftly, and can get a lot of money in one run, any thoughts?" Tony asked, to which no reply but silence was met as everyone exchanged glances with each other, and then back to Tony. "...Alright, well, we may have a pretty damn big problem then, I'll think of something soon and let everyone know something in the coming days, until then, be on the look-out for ways we can get out of debt from our good ol' friend Uncle fuckin' Sam," Tony said, sliding his out from underneath the table and walking over to his private quarters, shutting the door quickly behind him.
*TWO DAYS LATER*
"Alright, I figure I've found a way to get our shit outta the gutta', we're gonna need a lots of fuckin' guns, you got that? Get 'em ready, we're gonna need the cars too. Have that shit ready before 5:00p.m., we need to get this show on the road," Tony leans to his associate and says.
*FEW HOURS LATER*
Tony prepares an announcement to his henchmen, and stands on a small stool to overlook everyone. "Now I know what you're all thinking, it should be one thing right now, with all the equipment we have, it should be something big, right?" Everyone nods at his statement, some exchanging small talk between each other. "Alright, alright, back to me. It is something big, keep this on the low, but we're gonna be robbing the Downtown Chicago bank, this is the big one. After this, we're gonna need to lock the place up and make sure all the equipment gets hidden away somewhere. I've already gotten some men on that, so we wont have to worry about disposing of anything besides the guns. With that being said, we're gonna lay low in a safehouse not far from here. We'll hide the money, then have some boys wire-transfer that shit outta the country to a foreign bank account I have in a western European country near Russia. I realize that not everyone was planning on leaving for very long, but we've gotta lay low with the money outside the country so the law enforcement and good ol' Uncle Sam will forget about trying to track it after a while. Once that's done, we can come back. Sound good? I've already went over the planning board with most of my associates, so we should be good for this, you just listen to them, and they'll guide you through it all. Alright? Make all the calls you need to your family, have them start packing, we'll pay for everyone's trip over. Now, let's fucking do it," Tony says, raising his fist in the air and hopping off the stool. Walking over to the black cars, everyone loads up and begins a journey that makes many men nervous and itchy.
*THREE MONTHS LATER*
"Keep movin'," Tony says, whispering to his some of his henchmen falling behind. One of them reaches for the canteen he's carrying and drinks from it. He places it back, and zips it away into his backpack. "We've got a long fuckin' journey ahead of us, shit was never supposed to happen.. Let's hope they haven't forgotten about us out here. Surely, they haven't," Tony says, as he stares down an infected shambling down the street, and turns back to his men..