Three guys sit around the table. There’s Tony, who’s balding with thick, powerful eyebrows and a permanently shrewd expression on his chubby face. There’s Alex, his young, hot shot associate who works in accounts and has a reputation for making the Capobiancos one of the richest families in the Northeast. Then there’s Bruce, who’s apparently a crack shot with his pistol and has a temper as quick as a snake.
I decide if this meeting goes south, I’ll grab the accountant and use him as a meat-shield while I rush Bruce and try to get his gun. It’s not a great plan, and I’m not sure the little guy has enough meat on him to stop one of those .22 caliber bullets Bruce is packing.
“This had better be good,” says Tony.
“Unless I misinterpret your ambitions,” I say. “It is really good.”
Tony gestures for me to continue.
“I can offer you a risk-free chance to cripple your two biggest rivals. One day and you could cut off the head of the Bianchis and the Morettis.”
“I’m listening,” says Tony. By the way he leans forward, I can tell he’s hooked. I feel a slight wave of relief, knowing the real danger here has passed.
“Fredo Moretti wants my head,” I say.
Tony laughs. “No shit. You’ve cost the guy close to a hundred Gs they say. And now you’re back in town making him look weak, walking around like you’re untouchable.”
“Yeah, and he wants me to give myself up. Here’s the thing. Marco Bianchi is waiting for a chance to off me, too. He hasn’t admitted it, but my gut says he cut a deal with the Morettis to execute my brother. Chances are, he’s coming for me next. But do you think the Morettis are going to give him whatever they are offering if they do the dirty work for him?”
Tony narrows his eyes. “So you’re offering yourself as bait to lure the Morettis and the Bianchis out into the open? What’s to stop them from sending some low-level thugs to do the job.”
“Pride. Fredo has tried sending his thugs after me and it hasn’t worked. He’s going to be there this time. He’s going to make sure it works, or he’ll make a fool of himself once and for all. And I’ll make sure Marco knows the only way he gets a shot at me is if he comes himself.”
“You said this is risk free. But let’s suppose I take you up on this offer and it doesn’t work. What’s to stop the Morettis and Bianchis from coming after me?”
“As far as they know, you weren’t involved. Send a ghost crew. I’ll run them. Give me guys with no blood-ties to you that can’t be traced back to you. Hire military contractors if you have to.”
He rubs his lip with his thumb, sucking in a whistling breath through his nose.
“I know some guys,” says the young accountant. “The cost is negligible, and we can hedge our investment by taking out life insurance on the men.”
Tony smirks at me. “I fucking love this kid.”
57
Julia
Callie agreed to let Roman and I come stay with her, so we’re driving north towards New York. I have music from Yo Gabba Gabba playing on the radio while Roman does some kind of interpretive dance in his car seat. It feels surreal. He has no idea that we’re on the run, hiding from people who want to kill us. He has no idea what kind of risk Leo is taking for us. Even if we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place if it wasn’t for Leo, I can’t make myself blame him.
I was the one who let him into my life to begin with. I signed up for this, for better or worse, and now all I can do is my best to keep my little guy safe while we ride it out.
I switch lanes, trying to give the car tailgating me a chance to pass. I growl in annoyance when the car switches lanes with me, still so close on my tail that I can’t even see their headlights. It’s a black sedan with heavily tinted windows. I can’t see the driver, but I get a chill when I wonder if I would see well-dressed Italian men if I could. I switch again to the far right lane, cutting in front of a car so the sedan can’t get directly behind me. A few seconds later, I swerve off the road taking the next exit. I hear tires screech from behind and see the black sedan still following us.
“Weeee!” yells Roman from the back. “Do it again!”
“Honey, make sure your straps are tight, okay?” I ask, voice strained as I swerve off the exit ramp and head down a backcountry road. There’s a mom and pop style grocery store and a few trailers scattered around fields of overgrown grass and not much else. I don’t even see any other cars on the road.
I drive as fast as I dare, glancing in the rearview as the black sedan gains on us. I squeeze the steering wheel, struggling to think of something to do, anything to get them off our tail.
“Honey, are you in tight?” I call back to Roman, quickly reaching to turn off the music.
“Weeeee!” he yells again. “I’m in tight!”
I swerve off the road, driving a few dozen yards through grass until a reach a field of tall, golden wheat. I see the black sedan through the dust cloud I’m kicking up, following behind. I can’t see anything now, but I did see a farmhouse roughly in the direction I’m driving from the road, I just have to hope I’m driving in a straight line, and I have to hope whoever is driving the sedan didn’t see what I saw.
I drive as fast as I dare, still seeing flashes of black through the dust behind me, bouncing along in the fields of wheat, gaining on me. I grip the steering wheel tighter, twisting my hands and wondering how much farther it could—
The wheat drops away and I barely swerve in time to miss the corner of a farmhouse. A split-second later, I hear the sedan crash into it.
“Ahhhh!” Roman yells happily. “This is awesome!”
I slowly circle back through the wheat as best as I can tell until I find the path of trampled crops that leads back to the road. I see the car jammed into the house, spewing thick black smoke as I drive. I let myself sigh with relief, grinning a little. Take that, you fuckers. No one comes between me and my son.
When I emerge from the crops, I see two black SUVs waiting for me. Four men stand in the grass, guns pointed toward us. One of them steps forward, motioning for me to get out of the car. My mind races. I briefly consider swerving into the crops again and hoping I could lose them, but they are too close. I can’t risk a stray bullet catching Roman. Even the thought twists my heart. My only hope now is to wait for an opportunity or hope Leo finds us. As discreetly as I can, I fire off a text to Leo that says “Help”.
58
Leo
I wait in the junkyard for everyone to show. I’m wearing my gun holstered inside my suit jacket, and the weight is reassuring. Still, a lot of pieces have to come together for this to play out the way I hope. I called Marco a few hours ago and told him I wanted to give him some critical information about the Capobiancos. He sounded eager enough to show, probably on one hand because he thinks he can set up a trap and have me killed, and on the other because he knows the Capobiancos could decide to gun for him at any time. It’s a win-win for him.
Fredo and his crew show first. I see the small convoy of four SUVs pull up to the entrance of the junkyard and wind their way toward where I wait near the center. If he’s smart, he’ll turn the cars around when he sees I already broke the agreement and showed up early, but as I was hoping, his arrogance and pride seem to take over, because the SUVs don’t stop, even when they have to have a clear view of me.