Gideon's Chair

Phelps Society New York

The rain bounced down in New York as Mancini addressed his closest advisors . The smell of pungent cigar smoke lay heavy in the room that and expensive cologne made a strange potion as Maria walked in passing Mancini the Itinerary.

Mancini shaped his hand around his face , scratching his designer stubble . He was tough , but very vain . His Naples roots never far away in any aspect of his life. He wore Armani not because he could afford it but because it was Italian and in the neighbourhood he was brought up in , it meant he had made it . He went back from time to time to see his Grandmother, she just saw a boy , his neighbourhood saw him as a cop or a drug dealer .

He stood up and opened his jacket , his barrel chest now more obvious . He paused

" Krey has compromised us "

There was a total silence in the room .

Franco Galasso stood up , he addressed Mancini by his first name " Carlo may I speak" ...Galasso was born on the same street as Mancini in Naples they were virtually brothers , They certainly weren't involved with the Camorra now , but both families were linked by blood and could never be separated . Mancini's grandmother was Maria Nuvoletta who was reputed to have killed two rivals with a machine gun. Galasso was initially a street punk who took a gun from a policeman's holster without him knowing .

Mancini surrounded himself with blood loyal people , it helped to keep him alive

Franco Galasso looked around the room , he was more comfortable with his soldiers than priests and academics .

" Do they know , are we compromised . Let me take my people and sort this Carlo . We are dependant on boys , this kinda shit "

Mancini knew his friend was right but paused . He walked around the giant table . This was an old New York room with panelled walls and French colonial furniture surrounding . The room had become the combined intelligence agencies offices .

" Franco " Give me a moment . Mancini walked past him and touched his shoulder . Franco nodded and waited .

" We must act "

Before he could speak further a hand banged the table , he turned round

A lady stood , she was slim , olive skinned and sharp eyed . She had almost understandable dead eyes . Whilst everyone wore suits , she wore a black denim skirt . high stilettos and a black loose jacket that looked like cashmere . Her hair was black and wavy , which was not quite groomed . She remained something of her formative life no matter how she presented herself .

This was Maria Feranzella  the most feared Sicilian mafia boss . It was agreed that during any meeting her and the Naples bosses would never speak .

I was never a good idea to cross Maria , she didn't respect style , manners or anything other than family.

" Mancini " She would never call him by his first name " This isn't our war , the Sicilians will not get involved . You have my final word " She stood and walked away

Franco Galasso stood " I will always stand by you , but we are compromised by your people , this would never happen at home . We must have your word this can't happen again"

Mancini thought for a moment then continued " The Phelps and The Gideon Societies virtually control everything ...but we can never be sure . Gentlemen , I am not sure that the rest of the world do not know that we have been compromised . But we can't afford the risk , can we afford to compromise our security.

Mancini was struggling by the looks around the table

He pointed at Jimmy Ronnson

Jimmy Ronnson was his closest friend . They started at the agency on the same day , had shared a flat , a life and were as close as possible .

" Jim , what would you do "

" Down to me , I'd make it look like the Brits did it ......I mean , everyone thinks we love the Brits , they love us , but that's balls ......want me to sort it , I will"

" Ok Jimmy , down to you "

Fludd turned to everyone in the room . "Gentlemen , now it begins . stay ahead of the game , but always be in the game "