[b]THE GANG’S ALL HERE

Act 1[/b]

[i]They say there's no honor among thieves.  That may be so, but if they're convinced they'll make a lot more ill-gotten gains working together than separately - and they don't get [/i]too[i] greedy - crooks might join forces.  That's how organized crime starts.  That's how you get criminal mobs.
"Then again, if you have two different mobs, and they decide they'd rather not work together and they [/i]do[i] get too greedy, that's how gang wars start.  And one of the most infamous times for that in American history was the 1920's in the city of Chicago."
Mobs controlled 'territories' around Chicago in which they ran their crooked operations - bootlegging, gambling, smuggling, gunrunning - anything for a fast buck.  Within their territories, the mobs had their hands in pretty much any other businesses they liked, and the mob bosses became some of the richest fat-cats in town.
"But you know how it is for some people:  Too much is never enough.  Rival mobs fought to take over each other’s territories, and it sometimes turned pretty ugly, especially for those poor schmucks who got caught in the middle..."[/i]


[b]1927[/b]

By this time, Robert and Charlie owned a Roadmaster automobile, a lesser-known model made earlier in the decade.  Charlie, who had shown a talent for engineering ever since the end of the Civil War, especially loved tinkering with their car.  He recently came up with an idea for increasing the speed and gas mileage, but he needed some custom-made parts, and Chicago was the closest place to get them made and fitted to their car's specs.

[i]We were gonna be in the neighborhood, and we decided to look up an old friend, Casey Dagenais, who owned a restaurant there.  We called ahead, and something in the way he sounded over the phone told us there was trouble...[/i]

Casey grew up in Medford, the town where Robert and Charlie lived since the Civil War ended (barring occasional extended trips to the Klondike or San Francisco or Europe...).  Casey's talent for cooking took him to Chicago, and eventually to ownership of his own restaurant.  From what the aliens heard, it was becoming one of the most popular eateries on the Chicago River.
From the look of it when they pulled up, either Casey's place just got some really negative reviews, or it just became a major crime scene.
"Holy -!"  Robert censored himself just in time as he and Charlie jumped out of their car and ran inside.
On closer inspection, it was obvious the holes making the restaurant look like Swiss cheese were from bullets peppering the outside wall.  The inside was a shambles.  The big picture window facing the street now littered the floor in a million shards.  Tables and chairs were overturned or shot up or both.  There was evidence of food stains having recently been cleaned up, but plenty more were still there, and Charlie could smell they were already going rancid.
"Casey!?" shouted Charlie.  "[i]Casey!?![/i]"
"Back here!"  Casey emerged from the kitchen right after answering their call, carrying a mop and bucket.  "Just cleaning out my mop, and making sure you were friendly faces."
He stopped, put down the bucket, and said morosely, "Can I get you a table?  Three of 'em are still standing."
"What happened!?" demanded Robert.
"Sammy Spingo and Big Bob Malone, [i]that's[/i] what happened!"
The remaining intact tables were toward the back, where diners could have a view of the Chicago River through more picture windows.  They all sat down at one and Casey told his story.
"I think I told you before, Malone's the local big shot.  Normally, he don't bother the rest of us, unless you got something he really wants.  And now, he wants my restaurant!"
"Is he really [i]this[/i] desperate for a good meal?" Robert replied.
"It's not my cooking he loves, it's the view.  He wants to use the place as a front for smuggling goods in from the river.  And like a moron, I said no!"
"And this is him trying to persuade you otherwise?" guessed Charlie.
"Nah, Malone's idea of persuasion is to bring himself and his boys around a lot to eat and try 'talking' me into it all warm and friendly-like.  That's where Sammy Spingo comes in.  He got word of what Malone wants my place for, and decided [i]he[/i] wants it for the same reason.  So yesterday, when Malone's bunch was in here again, some of Spingo's boys drove by..."  He looked sadly around his place.  "...and look what happened!"
"Have you gone to the police?" asked Charlie.
"And wind up looking like my restaurant!?  I say one word of this, and Spingo'll hang me out to dry!  I already had to send the wife and kids to her mother's place outta town!"  Casey tried to calm down his sudden attack of nerves, and then added, "Even if I did go to the police, what good would it do?  The police won't do anything 'cause it's just my word against Spingo's, and he's got everybody else too scared to talk.  My staff is so scared, they won't even come in to work.  And Malone won't 'cause he'd rather take care of Spingo himself."
"You can't just take this lying down!" Robert insisted.  "You've worked your whole life to get this place!"
"I know, but I don't know what to do!  Malone and Spingo both got me over a barrel!"
The front door opened, and in walked four tough-looking guys, one of whom was dressed in a custom-tailored pinstripe suit that looked like it cost half a year's worth of Casey's profits.  "Hiya, Casey!" he sneered.
"Speak of the Devil..." Casey moaned under his breath.
"Which one," murmured Robert.
"Spingo."
Spingo strolled through the restaurant and tutted in mock sympathy.  "Tragic!  Looks like a stampede went through this place.  Hope ya got enough insurance ta cover it.  And if ya don't, I can get ya a very good deal on some!"
"[i]Sure[/i] he could," muttered Robert.
Spingo's "inspection" brought him to the back tables where Casey and his friends were, and he added to Casey, "Course, this might not've happened at all if ya hadn't set up shop in such a bad location.  Neighborhood like this ain't safe.  Ya get all sorts 'a lowlifes comin' in and out."
"You're telling us," retorted Charlie.
Spingo spun around and stared daggers at the aliens.  "Who said that!?" he snarled.
Robert and Charlie pointed to each other and replied in unison, "He did."
"Wise guys, huh!?"
"Hey, careful Boss, I heard about them!" one of his thugs spoke up.  "It's them outer space guys!"
"I know who they are!" Spingo snapped back.  "How many talkin' horses ya think there are in the world!?"
"Lots of them!" insisted Charlie.  "I'm just the only one who speaks English."
"And Spanish," added Robert.
Charlie nodded.  "And French and German."
"You're still having trouble with Chinese dialects though -"
"Knock it off!" snapped Spingo.  "Yeah, I read about ya.  Fell to Earth from another world, ya got super strength, super speed, can see in the dark.  Whaddaya doin' here?"
"We came in for a bite to eat," Robert replied casually.  "We heard Casey has the best roast beef in town."
"I never eat beef myself," Charlie added, "but I figured he'd have salad or something."
"And ya came in spite 'a what it looks like outside?"  Spingo wasn't buying it.  Robert never expected him to.  "Didn't he tell ya he was sellin' the place?"
Robert glanced at Casey as he replied, "No, he didn’t."
"Because I'm not!" Casey insisted, although the waver in his voice suggested he was having second thoughts.
Spingo glared at him.  "Ya sure ya don't wanna?" he asked in a tone that was clearly more threat than suggestion.  "I made ya a [i]very[/i] generous offer."
"And whaddaya think Malone'll do to me if I take your offer instead of his?"
"That's your problem!"  Spingo slowly glanced back toward the aliens as he added, "Is that why yer here?  Did Casey bring ya in for some extra muscle?  Or did Malone send for ya?  He must be gettin' desperate if he's hirin' ya ta do his dirty work!"
"Malone didn't hire us for anything!" retorted Charlie.
"Then don't stick yer noses where they don't belong!"
"Don't belong?" Robert replied mildly.  "Let's see, there's our friend here just trying to make an honest living, and he's being bullied by penny-ante hoods wanting their own pieces of his pie, and obviously not caring if they smash the pie into mush just to keep each other's hands off it.  No, I'd say we belong here."  His voice suddenly turned hard as he ordered Spingo, "So you and Malone go play robbers and robbers somewhere else!"
"You two want to blow each other to Kingdom Come, that's your business!" added Charlie.  "But we don't want Casey diced in any more of your crossfire!"
For a few moments, Spingo actually looked impressed, and even let loose a short, sharp laugh.  "I'll say one thing for ya.  You boys got moxie. . . .  I [i]hate[/i] moxie!!"
Robert now had a pretty good idea how explosive Spingo's temper was.  He'd have to adjust his battle plans accordingly.
Spingo was silent for a few seconds, then he regained his composure and said, "So ya don't want yer pal gettin' hurt no more, huh?  There's only one sure-fire way ta guarantee that, and that's takin' Malone outta the picture, fer good!  Then you and yer pal just have ta deal with me!  And yer muscle can make that easy!  You help me take Malone down, and I'll make it well worth yer while.  Who knows?  Maybe I'll keep ya on permanent-like.  There's a lot 'a other bosses around town I'd like ta knock off.  With you boys on the payroll, I could do it in half the time!"
The revulsion on the aliens' faces said it all.  "Maybe you didn't read enough about us," Robert retorted.  "We're not for hire!"
"Especially not as goons for anybody's private little army!" added Charlie.
If looks could kill, Spingo would've blown their heads off.  "Boys, somethin' ya better learn while yer in Chicago.  Nobody says no ta Sammy Spingo!  [i]Nobody!![/i]"
With an almost sadistic grin, another of Spingo's thugs said, "You want us to put 'em on ice, boss?"
"Nature beat you to it," quipped Robert.
Spingo rounded on his thug and snapped, "Don't ya read books!?  These guys [i]like[/i] it cold!  It's [i]heat[/i] they can't stand!"  Spingo turned back to Robert and Charlie and sneered, "And yer gonna find yerselves in enough heat ta roast ya like Thanksgivin' turkeys!"  He "casually" moved toward one of the few remaining intact tables, with a glass oil lamp and full place settings that Casey just recently replaced.  "And who knows how much more 'crossfire' this place might get in the middle of..."  Spingo suddenly threw a roundhouse kick into one of the table's legs, breaking it right in half and toppling the table and its fragile contents to the floor with multiple resounding crashes.
Robert's immediate response was to go to the service counter, grab a piece of paper and pencil, and scribble a quick note which he then handed to Spingo.  "What's this?" demanded Spingo.
"A bill for what you just broke."
Spingo gaped at Robert like he'd suddenly claimed to be the emperor of Japan.  Once the moment passed, Spingo picked up an empty metal mop bucket, dropped the bill inside, and handed the bucket to his largest goon.  With an evil smirk, the goon crumpled the bucket in his bare hands until it was no bigger than a football.
"Need I say more?"
With that, Spingo led his boys out of the restaurant, dropping the crumpled metal bucket on the floor as they left.  Robert then gave Casey a worried glance and asked, "Did we just make things worse?"
Casey's shoulders slumped as he sighed and replied, "No worse than they already were."


[i]Going to the police really wouldn't do any good.  In Chicago in the 1920's, the mobsters got so powerful, they could literally buy elections, putting their friends on the city government.
"And then [/i]they[i] put [/i]their[i] friends on the police force, and before you knew it, the mobs were the law in town.  And if you got in their way, they might invite you out for a late-night stroll along the waterfront.  With cement walking shoes."[/i]

After Robert and Charlie helped clean up the damage as best they could, Casey went out to see about buying new glass for the front window.  The boys took a walk down the street to mull over the day's developments.
"I wonder what the chances really are of convincing Spingo and Malone to leave Casey alone?" wondered Robert.
"Maybe we just have to convince Malone.  The way Casey made it sound, Spingo would steal candy from Malone's own baby just to get at him."
"Maybe, but I wouldn't count on it."  Robert's gaze wandered as he added, "Still, I can't help wondering what could've happened that got Spingo so steamed at Malone."
"You know what [i]I[/i] keep wondering?" said Charlie.  "Why do they call Chicago the 'Windy City'?  There's been hardly any wind the whole time we've been here."
"I think that's more about the politicians than the weather."
Their musings were interrupted by sounds from a nearby home of a woman grunting with effort.  From the look of it, whoever lived there had a lot more money than the owners of most of the other office buildings, businesses, and tenements it was nestled amongst.  The grunting woman wore the latest styles of clothes, and was incongruously trying to heft a large garbage can out the front door.
She spotted them and called out, "'Scuse me!  I hate to bother ya, but can ya help me get this to the street!?  They filled it up too full again, and it figures they'd do it on the butler's day off!"
"Sure, be right there!" Charlie called back, and he started toward the front stoop.
It occurred to Robert that a home this size ought to have more than one servant, or at least hire temporary help to fill in.  But if Charlie was already going, he assumed his friend didn't smell or hear anything wrong, so he followed.
"Thanks, you're lifesavers!" she crowed as they reached her.  "Why they don't just pop for another can, I don't have a clue!"
"Who's they?" asked Robert as he and Charlie stepped inside.  "Why couldn't they help you with it?"
Charlie suddenly sniffed twice and went on alert.  "More importantly, why would they rather hide behind the door than help you!?"
Robert sensed them in his own way a split second after Charlie did.  They both spun around and saw two very large, ugly goons creeping up behind them.  Another sixth sense made them spin back around to see two more thugs stepping up from the other side while the woman slowly stepped back with a smug look.

A minute later, the woman - who didn't look at all smug anymore - and all four thugs stumbled into a lavish study inside the home, right ahead of Robert and Charlie, who had the thugs' arms pinned behind their backs.
The other side of the room was dominated by a large ornate desk, behind which sat a large, smartly-dressed man with a face like granite.  On the wall behind him was a poster of Sammy Spingo with several darts sticking out of it.
Gently shoving their would-be captors away, Robert brusquely addressed the man behind the desk.  "Next time you want to meet us, how about just [i]asking[/i]?"
With a cool gaze, Granite-Face replied, "You might 'a said no, and I really wanted to meet you fellas.  The name's Robert Malone.  My pals call me 'Big Bob.'  You can call me Mister Malone."
"I'm Robert, this is Charlie.  You can call us Mister Mirtelas and Mister Trelker."
Malone's stony face cracked as chuckles came out.  "You got guts.  I like that."
"I'm glad [i]you[/i] do," noted Charlie.
"So what's on your mind?" asked Robert.
"First things first, I wanna know what happened between you and Spingo.  And if he cut a deal with ya, I wanna make you a better one."
"How'd you know Spingo was talking to us?"
"I got ways 'a knowin'.  I heard about what he did to Casey's place."  Cold anger crossed Malone's face as he added, "He shouldn't 'a done that.  I really like that place.  It's got the best roast beef in town."
"That's what [i]I[/i] heard," agreed Robert, wondering if it was a coincidence or not.  "I'm thinking of buying stock in it."
Malone smirked.  "Oh, I'm thinkin' 'a buying more than stock.  And I should go over there soon to see if he's thought some more about my offer."  His smirk vanished again as he added, "'Cept 'a course there's Spingo.  He's a problem.  But you boys could be the solution."
Robert groaned inwardly, guessing where this was going.  "Funny, that's what Spingo told us."
"Don't tell me, he wants your help puttin' the hit on me?  And what'd he offer ya?  I know that mug, he's a backstabbin' psycho who'd offer both 'a ya the moon and give ya nuthin' but the crumbs off his plate, and then sell your pony pal to the glue factory just for laughs."  Malone became all warm and friendly when he added, "But me?  I'm an honest businessman."

[i]And if you believe that, I have a bridge in Brooklyn I'd like to sell you.[/i]

"I can put [i]you[/i] in business.  See, I'm not talkin' a one-time payoff here; I'm a teach-a-man-to-fish kind'a guy instead 'a give-a-man-a-fish.  I gotta lotta pull in Chicago, I can get ya anything.  How about your own ice business?  You'd be naturals at that!"  He grinned from ear to ear as he concluded, "You boys help me get rid 'a Spingo, and I guarantee you'll be set for life."
"That's some guarantee," replied Robert.  "I've already been alive over seven hundred years, and I'm not even fully grown yet."  By the time I am, everyone will probably be able to make ice in their own homes, he thought.
"And what happens to Casey?" asked Charlie.
"Nothin'.  I'll need a good manager for the diner."
"As long as he doesn't meddle in your 'other business' there?" guessed Robert.
Malone's eyes narrowed.  "My other business is [i]my[/i] business, not Casey's.  And not [i]yours[/i]."
Robert turned as serious as Malone.  "It'd become Casey's business sooner or later, whether either of you like it or not.  And then it'd be [i]our[/i] business."
After a brief pause for it to sink in, Malone replied, "So that's a no?"
Robert and Charlie tensed as they sensed Malone's boys closing in, as if waiting for word from their boss to start getting rough.  From the looks on their faces, they were more than eager to.
Instead, Malone leaned back and smiled and said, "But I wouldn't want you makin' a snap decision, this bein' a first offer and all.  You go back to Casey's place and think it over."  His face turned back to hard stone again as he added, "Just remember:  This offer's good for a limited time only."


"Two job offers in two hours," noted Charlie as he and Robert walked back to Casey's.  "Two [i]crooked[/i] job offers.  Has that ever happened to us before?"
"When we get home, remind me to look it up in our memoirs," replied Robert as they walked back the way they came toward Casey's restaurant.  "Does that time in Copenhagen count?"
"Except one of those jobs was just for you, and the other just for me."  Charlie's muzzle screwed up in anger as he remembered, "And that other guy had some nerve!  Shave off all my fur to work in his cellar!?  Yet [i]he[/i] gets to have that long beard!?"
"I saw his beard.  You couldn't have cut [i]that[/i] with a lumber saw."
They returned to Casey's place.  Robert called out, "Casey, you back yet!?  You're not gonna believe what just happened to... us..."
As soon as they stepped inside, they noticed four new tough guys in the place.  Casey was standing in the middle of the dining area, looking more nervous than ever.  Robert and Charlie eyed the goons in turn, then Charlie asked Casey, "Who's giving you trouble [i]now[/i]?"
"No, uh-no one!" stuttered Casey.  "Th-their boss just wants to talk to you!"
"We'll have to hire a secretary to keep track of all these meetings," said Robert.  "Who is it this time?"
"'It' is me," replied a voice from the back.  He stepped into view, showing the boys he was a middle-aged man wearing the most expensive suit they'd seen yet, and with a prominent scar running from just under his left ear to his chin.
"The name's Capone.  Maybe ya heard 'a me?"
"Who hasn't?" replied Charlie.  Pretty much everyone in the country knew him well enough that his introduction wasn't necessary, and he and Robert knew things were really heating up now.
Unlike most other mob kingpins, Alphonse "Al" Capone was a media sensation, openly flaunting his status as the most powerful boss in Chicago, if not the country.  He knew the public had a sneaking admiration for him, and he knew how to use it to his advantage.  He even set himself up as a modern-day Robin Hood by using money from his underworld empire to help the poor, even though they were mostly token gestures just to get the Feds off his back.  The aliens knew none of it changed how ruthless Capone could be if things didn't go his way, courtesy of crooked cops in his pocket, tommy-guns in dark alleys, or long walks off short piers.
"Can I.. get you anything?" Casey asked him nervously.
"Nah, I won't be stayin' long."  Capone turned back to the aliens and said, "Just want to talk to Bob and Chuck here - ya mind if I call ya that?"  Without waiting for an answer, he continued, "Anyway, I'll get right to the point.  Bob - Bob Malone, not you - he's an old pal 'a mine, been so ever since I moved out here.  When I started up new business ventures in this side 'a town, I hand-picked him to manage things.  But now this Spingo mug is musclin' in on his turf, which means he's musclin' in on mine, and this ain't the first time he's tried it.  Well, this is the [i]last[/i] time.  I want him gone.  And you boys can help."

[i]"Make that [/i]three[i] crooked job offers in two hours."[/i]

Robert finally voiced a question on his mind since Spingo's visit.  "Why us?  You must have plenty of... 'employees' who could run Spingo outta town."  In his mind, he added that Capone's boys were more likely to run Spingo [i]over[/i] with a truck.
"Spingo may be a two-bit hood, but he's got enough muscle now to give even my boys a run for their money.  I should'a taken him down sooner, but even I can't be everywhere at once.  But with your help, I'll have a better shot at puttin' him on ice.  Heck, you boys are the [i]real[/i] ice men!"  He chuckled at his own joke.  On cue, his men all laughed with him until he snapped, "All right, enough!"
He turned back to Robert and Charlie and added, "Besides, you got a personal stake in this.  You'll be helpin' out your pal Casey here.  How much longer are he or his place gonna last if Spingo keeps comin' around?"

[i]As crooked as it was, Capone had a point.  The longer Malone and Spingo carried on, the worse off for Casey.  Something had to be done...[/i]