While praising his father as his "only true friend," young Cutolo announced his intention to obtain vengeance and called on his old man to place a hand on his shoulder from above and guide him as he works to complete his task.

"I'll be sure to say hello to your trustworthy friends!" he proclaimed in what surely is a sarcastic and gleeful reference to a courtroom meeting he hopes to have with his dad's mob superiors and underlings at their upcoming racketeering trial.

He signed it, "Your honorable and only son, Bill."

"I saw it. No fucking comment," said an underworld source who is usually more free, and less ornery, with his remarks.

Sources say young Cutolo's remarks in the paid newspaper notice echo tape-recorded words he uttered before meeting a Colombo wiseguy soon after he started working undercover for the feds.

"Let's call this, 'Operation payback'," said Cutolo after he turned on the FBI-supplied recording device to secretly tape one of his father's "trustworthy friends."

Although no one has been charged with Wild Bill's slaying, young Cutolo seems well on his way to achieving his goal, according to court documents and information Gang Land has obtained from law enforcement and underworld sources.

Along with two others, Persico, 46, (left) DeRoss, 63, and the 12 named crew members are scheduled for trial in December on charges of money laundering, extortion, mail fraud, bookmaking, drug dealing, stock fraud, loansharking and ripping off union workers' benefit funds.

Persico hated the elder Cutolo ever since Wild Bill's crew took up with acting boss Victor (Little Vic) Orena and killed several Persico loyalists in a bloody 1991-1993 war for control of the family, FBI agent Margaret Carmichael said in an affidavit that quoted information from five mob informers and two civilian witnesses.

During conversations with several FBI informers, Persico said Wild Bill had been killed because he was "getting too strong" and had begun "acting like the boss," Carmichael said.

A few weeks after his father's death, young Cutolo contacted the FBI, began working undercover and did a masterful job of pitting his father’s crew and DeRoss against each other by telling his father's old henchmen that DeRoss (right) was cheating them and DeRoss that they were "badmouthing" him.

During one such discussion Cutolo had with DeRoss about a crew member, an exasperated DeRoss stammered that the associate couldn't talk about him like that: "I’m his captain, I’m his captain."

On May 24, 1999, Persico, who was officially living in the Sunshine State and free on bail on gun charges at the time, notified federal authorities that he was flying to New York the following day "to take care of some business," according to agent Carmichael's affidavit.

The next morning, using a New York-based cell phone – he had given federal authorities the number so they could contact him – Persico beeped Cutolo (left) three times in nine minutes and put off a scheduled meeting between the men to the following day, May 26, the affidavit said.

After being told about the change in plans, Cutolo "complained openly" about it, stating "that the unexpected change would inconvenience him greatly," Carmichael said.

On May 26, as Cutolo did every Wednesday, he went to his Manhattan office at Local 400 of the Production Workers Union where he was a business agent. After signing payroll checks, he told his secretary he would see her the next Wednesday and departed for a rendezvous with Persico in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. He hasn’t been seen since.

Before his next scheduled visit to the union offices on June 2, "an official of the union informed (an FBI confidential source) that Cutolo would not be returning and that Frank Persico, (right) the cousin of Alphonse, would be assuming Cutolo's position in the union," Carmichael said.