There once was this organized crime family that had a sweet operation. It owned the Caribbean and Central America. Then it moved into South America. Later, when lots of money started coming out of the ground in the Middle East and parts of Africa, the family moved in there too.
Everywhere the family went, they knew how to grease the local wheels. Organized crime can't exist without the help of supposedly upstanding citizens.
But then the Family had a huge gang war with another big gang. During that time they had to hire a lot of local talent. One of the locals, a really ruthless hitman, looked really promising. So the family trained him - they trained him really well. Then after the family won its war lots of the local talent who used to work for the family went into business for themselves. You know what happens then. Inevitably the small operations grow big enough to compete with the family's operations. This guy tried to muscle the family out of one of its territories - he wants to be a Don himself. Then it's war again.
The family tried put out a hit on their old hired help but he kept one step ahead of them. He knew their tricks - they taught him well. He kept hitting their operation. And not just dropping a few bodies here and there but really spectacular stuff. Pretty much screaming "catch me if you can" with big explosions. The family killed some of their old hitman's new gang plus lots of taxpayers caught in the crossfire. Their former go to guy hit back with more of the same.
One day the family promoted a favorite son as head of the whole operation. Out of respect to an old and venerated Don the capos agreed to have his son put in charge. No one really took the son seriously nor expected him to have to do any heavy lifting - the operation was pretty much running itself by that time. Everyone treated him like a figurehead. But then one day the upstart yelled "Catch me if you can" with an explosion so big that no one could pretend he was just another wannabe. The family still couldn't find him and to be blunt the "favorite son" couldn't find his own sofa in his living room - but that's another story - so the family lashed out against anyone who they thought even might have known something about the big job.
The family goes on a tear for ten years and blows up tons of stuff trying to act like badasses and make up for being made to look like chumps. The favorite son wears out his welcome everywhere he goes, talks tough but can't ever find the Wannabe much less put a bullet in his head. Some of the guys the family gets its hands on turn up really badly worked over - and they're the ones found alive. Others treated to the family's hospitality are not so fortunate. The favorite son arranged some really sloppy and badly planned hits, killing lots of bystanders in the process. He did order a few successful hits on some pretty nasty competitors, but never the one guy he really wants. By the time the Family replaced him the situation wasn't getting embarrassing, it had been - and for quite some time.
But eventually Mr. Wannnabe's luck ran out. Informants tell us that the family once considered giving him up to the feds but he knew too much. No, they decided to do the hit, just as they planned all along, so no loose ends. No one wanted to hear this birdie sing at trial. And more importantly, they wanted to send a message to any other wannabe who thought he could take on the family: you mess with us then you sleep with the fishes.