The Moncanos S01E01: Pilot

October 05, 2016 Anson 1 Comments



The grace in his gait made even the men stare. One look into his fierce grey eyes made them look away just as quickly. He wore a raisin red suit, a white shirt and a black tie. His black shoes were polished to a shine. His signature look when on business. He owned seven of these raisin red coloured suits, just in case. There was a reason for this meticulously assembled attire. He was habituated to reading from a very young age. He was going through a science journal when he read about Pavlov's dog and the concept of classical conditioning intrigued him. Pavlov would ring a bell before he fed his dog, and this happened everyday until the dog associated the ringing to food. The dog eventually began salivating every time he heard the bell, even if there was no food at sight. It fascinated him how a dog's mind was programmed to salivate at the ring of a bell. Over the years he struck terror into the hearts of his enemies and the streets of New Orleans, always adorned in the same raisin red suit. Now when he headed a table with the suit on, everyone around instinctively twitched and got nervous. The decisions always went his way. His long brown hair was tied in a bun and tucked under his black hat. Occasionally a heavy golden tinted aviator was added to the ensemble, but he usually preferred to leave his deadly grey eyes exposed.

He was Lyndon 'The Dagger' Moncano, son of Don Benedict 'Papa' Moncano. Tucked in a sheath attached to his black belt was a curved dagger, or Khanjar, as the Iranians who made it called it. It was a gift from the late Iranian Shah, Mohammad Turan Shah Paria, to Don Benedict, who gifted it to Lyndon Moncano on the day of his initiation. The sheath was adorned with gold and silver. The hilt was made of silver and ivory from an elephant's tusk. Not just any elephant, but the healthiest one in the royal fleet. The blade was of the finest steel. The dagger came from royalty and it looked the part. Lyndon's first kill was with that blade and it quickly became his weapon of choice, and his street name.

It saddened Don Benedict to watch his son use the royal dagger for murder, but he voiced this grimace only in front of Thomas, his butler and also his most trusted aid for forty years. "In all my years with that dagger, I only used it to arouse fear, never to inflict it", Papa Moncano lamented in a deep wheezy voice, as he watched his son in the red suit get into a black Mercedes and speed away, from the third floor window. He pulled the blinds and steered the wheelchair to the table where Thomas had served tea. Thomas pulled a chair and sat next to his master. He sensed a reminiscing story coming, as it so often did when the master watched his son conduct the business he loved, and it was his duty to lend his ear and attention.

The Don, christened Benedict Paul Moncano on 17th January 1941, was the second of four children born to Vincent and Claudia Moncano. He had an elder brother, Gregory Paul Moncano, and two younger sisters, Victoria Ceecee Moncano and Jennifer Charlie Moncano. Vincent was a bartender and Claudia stayed home with the kids. Vincent often drank with his pals and came home drunk. Claudia always begged he drink less because the kids and her were concerned for his health. He always yelled and told her to shut up. She cried. He got annoyed and beat her up. The kids helped her to bed. He passed out on the couch. The next morning they had breakfast like a normal family and Vincent went to work while Claudia dressed the kids up for school. Just another day for the Moncano's.

School was an old unused cow shed where twenty three children of all age groups sat together and an old lady, Mrs Humphrey, who willed to do good before she died taught them whatever little she knew about the world. The kids never complained, they were poor and they knew it, and they were just happy to get out of the house. After three hours of English and Math they were allowed to play with a football that belonged to Mrs Humphreys son, who was now somewhere far away in England and never came to visit.

On a sunny Thursday afternoon the Moncano kids were walking home after learning about the nine planets and a fruitful game of football. Greg had scored three goals, two assisted by brilliant passes from Ben. The four walked together, the girls in front swinging entwined hands and the boys at the back, passing a rock as they tread. Greg was first to notice the door of their home ajar and sensed trouble. He asked the girls to stay outside and he entered, with Ben close behind. They saw the scene in the hall and gasped. Their father was home, early for a weekday, drunk as usual, and was thrashing their mother mercilessly. The boys watched, stunned and in shock to react. Then Greg had had enough. This had gone on for too long. He picked a vase from the table next to him and ran at his father. He was determined to save his mother today, and hopped up on anger he made the mistake of yelling "you bastard". He had almost bashed the vase on his father's head when Vincent heard the abuse and dodged, sending Greg to the floor. The vase fell first and erupted into pieces and Greg fell over it. Vincent started stomping the fallen boy. Claudia ran to protect her son but Vincent was strong and bulky and managed to push her away. "Ben, help your brother, Ben!", she cried. His legs were weak from shock but his mind was alert. He ran to the closet and retrieved a baseball bat, ran to his unsuspecting father and hit him on the head. One blow turned out to be enough, as the man fell to the floor. Vincent was dead, but no one cared. Ben ran to his elder brother, his idol and role model. He turned Greg around, and a pair of lifeless eyes stared back. A large chunk of the vase had pierced Greg in the abdomen and he had bled to death. Just like that, Ben became the man of the family. Overnight, bags were packed, tears were dried, and the living Moncano's left for New Orleans.

Lyndon 'The Dagger' Moncano lowered the window of his Mercedes to peep into 'Bottles', one of many bars owned by the family. This one, on Royal street in the French Quarter was his favourite. He often conducted business here, but not always, as the nature of his business required him to not be in one place too often, lest he become an easy target for the feds. It was 8 PM and the bar was packed. Lyndon smiled. He loved making an entrance. Bottles was a classic bar. The entrance led to a big open outdoor area with a fountain at the center, surrounded by cemented slabs on which people sat when they needed fresh air or a deep conversation. The bar was a big space with the entrance opening into the dance floor. Surrounding the dance floor were low tables with cushioned benches. To the left, on the corner away from the entrance was a long bar with stools. Opposite the entrance to the far end of the room, perched on a slightly elevated podium was a stage where a band, 'Magic Marbles' currently played a funky blues number. To the right was a staircase leading to a floor that was accessible only to VIPs. Also on this floor was an office, where the meeting was to be currently held.

Lyndon got out of his car and on cue, the doors to three SUVs, one guarding the front and two the back, opened. Six massively built men wearing black Ts and jeans got out, quickly moving into formation. Two in the front, two to the side and two behind the mafia head.

The entourage entered and walked past groups of people in the open space, who stopped smoking to see if it was a celebrity. Once at the entrance, the two guards in the front pushed the doors open and started dividing the crowd, making way for their boss. Everyone stopped dancing to see what was happening. The band turned down the volume. They had played here long enough to know what they were to do. The singer made the announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, the man who made this night possible, Mr Lyndon Moncano!", and right on cue the drummer played a drum roll. The crowd hooted and whistled. Most knew who he was, the others inquired. The men looked in awe and the women stared lustfully at the tall man. Lyndon felt like a superstar. He stopped in front of the band, turned, bowed, and walked up the stairs and entered his office. The band began playing again and the crowd slowly resumed dancing.

They would never know what would transpire in the office, but they would all feel it's aftershock in the days to come.



The Moncano's S01E02: Federal Injection

1 comment:

  1. Sanchia Nazareth5 October 2016 at 12:39

    Sigh ! well done Mr Lobo ! Especially with the image! Please tell me you have begun on the next chapter!

    ReplyDelete