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Red Fortunato’s captains are back, but this time Trenchie, Tarzan, and Moose are up against the government. They will defend their boss to their deaths. So will the residents of Corona, Queens. Big Red’s a hometown icon, even revered by the local police.
“Every year, Red allowed the policeman’s ball to be held at The Starlight Club and every year, on top of that, Red personally bought two or three tables. It was his way of supporting the Widows and Orphans Fund. He sponsored the P. A. L. Little League and supplied the uniforms for the team.”
It was all planned – the vision of Joseph P. Kennedy – John as President, with Bobby and his headline making, no–nonsense crime crackdowns, following close behind. Rounding it out would be Teddy. All in the family. Yes, the makings of Camelot.
“Help me get my son Jack elected President and I’ll make sure he lays off all of you,” the Kennedy patriarch promises the mob.
Following in JFK’s shadow is hard for brother Bobby. His personality is different. When he hits, he hits hard – work that requires a team of killers. This is a job for Captain James Lonegan and his “Federal Agents” – a group tasked with acting as enforcers – but with no records of employment, no ID’s, no traceable paper trails – men who don’t exist.
Jimmy Hoffa isn’t the only one. There are five other names on Bobby’s list – all members of the crime commission – Carlo Gambino, Vito Genovese, Sam Giancana, Joe Accardo and . . . Red Fortunato. But “the boys” don’t mess around. There’s nothing the mob hates worse than a rat. You snitch, you lose brain matter.
Secret meetings take place at the renowned Waldorf Astoria and Diplomat Hotels, in “safe rooms,” and with the world’s most famous teamster leader. It’s there where Jimmy Hoffa issues a severe warning to Red that puts him on the run. “Red’s body arched in response,” but will he make it? All he wants to do is make it to Hollywood and start over.
Trenchie vows revenge. “Bastard Bobby Kennedy. I’ll take out the President too, if I have to, just to show ‘em it can be done,” while Sam Giancana is less than pleased with the Attorney General himself. “I regret the day Sinatra brought Joe Kennedy here to meet with me,” he snarls.
The Kennedys hate the Mob and the Mob hates the whole damn Kennedy clan.
“Shortly after noon today on November 22, 1963, President John F. Kennedy was assassinated as he rode in a motorcade through Dealey Plaza in downtown Dallas, Texas.”
Meanwhile . . . it’s just business as usual at . . . The Starlight Club.