Meadow: A Sopranos Fanfic

Countdown in 2: Compartmentalization

FRIDAY

"Where the fuck is this guy?" Kaitlin looked at her watch again and checked the rear view for what must have been the 20th time in an hour.
She knew her CI was full of shit sometimes, feeding her info that wouldn't pan out, but there were times that his information was as good as gold and today she just knew it was going to be a good day, it had to be because a sit down of epic proportions had just occurred.
The Cuban had done something that was completely out of routine, and that was ALWAYS the best way to catch a criminal; when they strayed from the norm.

The person moved through the rain with a notebook over their head, most likely not doing much to protect themselves from the downpour, and got in the car quickly; panting from the run and drenched to their bones.
"Ok," Carlos, a low level soldier in the Cuban's organization and CI for the FBI, said. "Here," he handed her the wet notebook.
Friday took it and looked it over, noticing how soggy it was.
"This is fucked Carlos, what do you want me to do with this? I'm fully stocked in the Maxipads department," she shook the notebook at him, but he shrugged and pointed at it with eyebrows raised, indicating it was more than what it seemed.
"This this is good meng, you gotta gime something for that today meng, cuz this thing? It's good," he pointed and tapped it as if he rest his case and then leaned back proudly.
Friday was staring at him, "Wow, ok, fuck when you put it like that, it must be pretty fucking great then," she started flipping through the first pages and whispered "idiot" under her breath as she did so.

The first 2 or 3 pages had schedules that didn't mean much other than to confirm what they already knew from the Cuban's whereabouts at certain times and days. The fourth page, however, had a few words written down that she couldn't quite make out, and then when she did, her eyes went wide and she snapped her head at him; stupefied.
"This cant be," she said.
"Believe it meng," he responded, smirking and looking at the rain.
"Carlos are you fucking with me right now?"
"No meng I'm telling you, that there is some good shit, you gotta give me something for that bro, it's good stuff," his words were as eloquent as his looks were dapper, but there was truth in his tone and she read the name with the note next to it again.
"Christ, if this is true, it's going to be one of the most greatest cases in the history of organized crime in the United States. I could kiss you, Carlos."
"I don't know about that meng, I need $2000 for that though, I think," he made a slicing move with his hand as if to say that was his rock bottoms price.
Friday smiled, thinking about how she was going to word this in her report to Chief Sanseverino, " Come on Carlos, you know how this works. First we confirm, then, if it pans out, you get paid. But with this kind of info? Yea... you definitely have something coming."

PAULIE

"Again with the worrying, Madre de dios!" Michelle exclaimed over the kitchen sink while preparing the onions, knife in hand, "Paulie if you don't quit this kind of stressful obsessing you're going to die soon from it and I'll tell you mijo, I'm not going to end up like my titi Rosalie, alone at 50 and with no prospects for the future.
"You with the negative shit. What did I say? I'm worried is all," Paulie grabbed at his hair, despair clearly on his face as he looked down at the floor.
Michelle Zenoha had been with Paulie long enough to know when he was acting like a kid because he was in need of a simple hug and some reassurance.
"Listen to me," she said, turning away from her cooking long enough to bring his head to her chest, "Whatever it is that is happening over there, the thing you need to remember is, you're not some small time two bit hustler, you're the boss aren't you?"
"Who the fuck knows, no, I don't know. You know what it's going to say on my headstone? Here lies Paulie Gaultieri, the first underboss under a woman, not a rat, but not a man neither," he shook his head.