Godfather System C93 Just in time

As Lorenzo's mind was made up to aid the Godfather Don Corleone, a resounding chime echoed in his head. In front of his very eyes, words began to materialize in the air, as if by some otherworldly force.

[You have decided to assist the Don of the Corleone Family! A task has been triggered.]

[Objective: Protect Don Corleone from any potential assailants!]

[Currently, the Don is staying at Lincoln Medical Center, Room 2. Dispatch your men for his protection.]

[Reward: The Corleone Family's eternal gratitude, a Golden Ring, and a Mystery Reward.]

Lorenzo stroked his chin, contemplating the task at hand. He had never before been offered a "Mystery Reward," but it was the least of his concerns. His mind was already made up; helping the Corleone family was his priority. The rewards were just a bonus he would receive for a job well done.

As he stood in Boyle Heights, he made his way to the bookstore where Richard worked as a front for their operations. Mary, the young and unsuspecting cashier, greeted him with a smile as he entered.

Lorenzo's eyes darted around the dimly lit store, lined with dusty tomes and leather-bound volumes, before making his way to the back office. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the worn oak desk, waiting for Richard to arrive.

Finally, the door creaked open, revealing Richard's burly frame. "You called, boss?"

"Richard, I need you to lead twenty of our best men to protect Don Corleone at Lincoln Medical Center in New York."

Richard's eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded in understanding. "I'll make sure we keep the Don safe."

Lorenzo met Richard's gaze, his eyes steely with determination. "The Corleones have always had our backs. With the Five Families at war in New York, we owe it to them to stand by their side."

Richard gripped Lorenzo's hand firmly, sealing the deal. "We won't let you down, boss."

"Go, Richard," Lorenzo said, his voice firm. "I've already arranged for you and our men to catch a flight to New York."

Richard's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but before he could ask which of their men he could take, Lorenzo slid a list of names across the table. Richard's eyes scanned the paper, understanding dawning on his face.

"Understood, boss." Richard tucked the list into his jacket and left the office without another word.

Lorenzo drummed his fingers on the table, lost in thought. It had only been a few hours since Don Corleone's narrow escape from an assassination attempt in New York. The letter from Patrick, their man on the ground there, had taken hours to reach Los Angeles. If it weren't for his connections, sending reinforcements would have been next to impossible with the limited airline traffic.

Thankfully, he had the mayor of Los Angeles in their pocket. While the mayor couldn't arrange a direct flight from Los Angeles to New York himself, he knew people in high places at the airlines. A few discreet phone calls later, and Lorenzo's men were cleared for takeoff.

Lorenzo couldn't help but marvel at how connections greased the wheels for those in power.

---

In New York, Michael Corleone's brow furrowed with worry. It had only been two hours since he'd received the news of his father's narrow escape from an assassination attempt. Fear and rage coursed through his veins, but he knew he needed to stay composed for his family.

Meanwhile, Richard and his thirteen men boarded a plane at Los Angeles International Airport.

Richard boarded the plane with only thirteen men, as per Lorenzo's list, the remaining seven men were already in New York, waiting to assist him. One of them was Patrick, their contact in the city who would help coordinate their efforts on the ground.

Their firearms were stowed away in their luggage, but the airline personnel turned a blind eye. After all, in these times, it wasn't unheard of for mobsters to travel with weapons or even contraband.

Seven hours later, the plane touched down at the newly established Idlewild Airport in New York. The sun had long since set, casting the city in a blanket of darkness. Richard led his men to collect their bags while he made his way to a public payphone. He dialed Patrick's number, their contact in New York.

"Mr. P, it's me, Mr. R," Richard said into the phone, his voice low and urgent. "I need you to prepare cars for fourteen of us. We just landed in New York."

Patrick's surprise was palpable even through the static. "Rich— I mean, Mr. R! What are you doing here? And with thirteen men? What's going on?"

"It's a long story, but the boss sent us on a mission to protect Don Corleone from any potential threats at the hospital he's staying in. He trusted me and my men to keep the Don safe."

Patrick sighed. "I should have known we'd get dragged into the Five Families' war eventually. But if it's the boss's orders..."

"Yeah, I know. Listen, can you arrange for some cars? Ours have been gathering dust since we left for LA."

"Consider it done. Our boys will escort you too."

"Thanks, Patrick."

"Just doing my part for the boss." Patrick gave Richard the address before hanging up.

Thirty minutes later, a convoy of cars pulled up to the airport. Patrick stepped out of the lead car and embraced Richard in a tight hug.

"It's good to see you, man," Richard said, clapping him on the back.

"Same here," Patrick replied. "I've been alright... Been visiting Philip in the slammer, and while I was at it, I also stopped by to see Noodles."

Richard raised an eyebrow. "Noodles? Who's that?"

Patrick chuckled sadly. "Noodles is an old friend of Max and mine. We've known each other since we were kids in the neighborhood."

Richard nodded, understanding dawning on his face. "Ah, I see. Well, it's good to know you've been keeping in touch with old friends."

"I was actually hoping the boss would pull some strings to get Philip released, and maybe even Noodles... I just didn't expect him to prioritize protecting a Don instead," Patrick said, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Richard patted him on the shoulder. "Patrick, I'm sure the boss will get to Philip soon enough. Adam said so himself. As for this Noodles fella, I can't make any promises."

"Yeah, I know," Patrick sighed. "For now, we have a mission to complete. I guess I understand why the boss wants us to protect the Don of the Corleone family. They did help us a lot in the past."

Richard nodded in agreement. "You're right. Let's not keep them waiting."

With that, they climbed into their respective cars and sped off towards Lincoln Medical Center.

---

Michael Corleone rushed into Lincoln Medical Center, his heart pounding in his chest. He made his way to his father's room, but as he approached, he noticed the guards were nowhere to be found. Panic etched itself into his features as he pushed the door open to Room 2.

His father lay in the bed, hooked up to various machines, his condition critical. Michael's heart cltered as he took his father's hand in his own. The Don's words echoed in his mind, especially his disapproval of Michael joining the war.

Suddenly, the door opened again, and Michael whirled around, ready for a fight. But it was only a nurse.

"I'm the nurse assigned to your father," she said, her voice soothing.

Michael breathed a sigh of relief and greeted her. As she turned to leave, he stopped her. "Wait, stay here."

He quickly dialed Sonny's number and informed him that their father's guards were missing. After a tense conversation, he hung up and turned to the nurse. "I need you to help me move my father to another room, immediately."

The nurse's eyes widened, but she didn't question the urgency in Michael's voice.

"Of course, Mr. Corleone. I'll get a gurney."

The nurse and Michael struggled to push Don Corleone into a room. Michael peered through the glass door, his heart pounding as he waited for someone else to appear. Minutes passed, but no one came. Just as he was about to give up hope, a man emerged from around the corner. Michael's eyes widened, but he soon realized it was Enzo, the baker, carrying a bouquet of flowers.

Michael quickly walked out and blurted, "Who are you?"

The man in the fedora hat answered without hesitation, "Enzo, the baker. Surely you 'member me?"

"Enzo?" Michael tried to recall the name. "Listen Enzo, you better get outta here. There's gonna be a lotta trouble."

Enzo responded in Italian, explaining that he had come to visit his father.

Michael sighed, knowing he couldn't send the man away. He allowed Enzo a brief visit before stationing him at the hospital entrance to keep watch.

Michael remained at his father's side, and when his father finally regained consciousness, Michael seized the opportunity to speak with him.

Afterward, Michael joined Enzo at the entrance, noticing the baker's nervous demeanor. "Don't be so jumpy. Put your hands in your pockets. Act like you got a gun."

Enzo nodded, trying to look more confident as he stood his ground.

As the car passed by, Michael and Enzo's hearts pounded in their chests. They breathed a sigh of relief as it drove past them, but their respite was short-lived. In the distance, two more cars appeared. Two men emerged from each vehicle, brandishing guns. Michael quickly grabbed Enzo by the back of his neck, yelling, "Duck!"

Enzo's knees trembled with fear as the men began to shoot indiscriminately. Another two gunners joined in, spraying bullets recklessly. Michael and Enzo braced themselves for the worst, believing it to be the end.

However, just when they thought things couldn't get any worse, a convoy of cars came into view. Michael and Enzo braced themselves, assuming it was more of their enemies. To their surprise, men emerged from the cars and started shooting at the Barzini and Tattaglia men.

The Barzini and Tattaglia members were caught off guard. Their men fell one by one, each shot finding its mark. Panic set in, and they thought the Corleones had sent reinforcements. In a panic, they scrambled into their cars and sped away.

Michael and Enzo cautiously peeked out from their hiding spot, relieved to see their attackers fleeing. They turned their attention to the men who had saved them.