by CW Browning
“This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever read,” Alina finally muttered. She looked up, her dark eyes glittering. “I really didn't take Stephanie for a fool. This has to be John's input.”
“Well, they don't have the advantage of your superior information,” Damon replied with a shrug. “The way they lay it out, it could make sense.”
Alina raised her eyebrow.
“That Frankie had this guy Martin whacked because he was working for someone else?” she demanded. “Please. This reads like a bad, made-for-TV movie.”
“Just to play devil’s advocate, I could point out that the mob is still very influential in the northeast,” Damon said.
Alina set the folder on the coffee table and opened her bottle of water. She looked at Damon. He was reclined in the recliner, his ankles crossed on the footrest, completely relaxed. His blue shirt made his eyes seem even more cobalt, and right now they were sparkling, just as they had been ever since he walked into the steakhouse.
“I won't dispute that,” Alina agreed. “But I don't see Frankie whacking a long-term employee in such a public way. He was always more of a “make the fink disappear and then re-appear in a landfill” kind of guy. Stephanie knows that. Everyone in Jersey knows that.”
“Maybe he suspected Martin was laundering for a terrorist,” Damon suggested. “I hear the mob is very patriotic these days.”
“You want to talk to Frankie Solitto!” Alina realized suddenly, after staring at him in disbelief for a moment. Damon grinned.
“Guilty,” he confirmed.
Alina sat back and stretched her arms over her head, arching her back with a yawn.
“Why?” she asked, lowering her arms. Damon shrugged.
“Are we laying our cards out on the table?” he asked. Alina smiled slightly and shook her head.
“Not entirely,” she answered. “Consider it sharing information.”
“I seem to be doing more sharing than you are,” Damon pointed out. Alina grinned. “Ok. I want to find out if Frankie knew about Martin's extra-curricular activities, and I want to find out if he knew who they were for. And I want to find out before our Fearless Feds bumble in and mess it all up.”
“How is this going to get me any closer to Johann?” Alina asked.
For the first time all night, the sparkle faded from Damon's eyes.
“It may not,” he answered truthfully.
Alina considered him silently, her eyes dark and shuttered. The mask was back in place. She was the professional again. Damon was back on familiar ground with this Viper, and he was conscious of a slight sense of relief. While it was amusing to see new sides to Alina, Viper was who he knew. And Viper was who he needed now.
“We had better get going then,” Alina finally broke the silence. “The Fearless Feds will start their bumbling in the morning. Let me get changed into something more appropriate.” She stood. “I assume you already know where he is?”
“At his house in Bucks County. He has a meeting this week with some of the Philly Family.” Damon swung his legs down and got up out of the recliner. “Security is going to be a factor.”
“I never thought otherwise.” Alina turned to head upstairs. “Give me a few minutes.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Do you have a change of clothes with you?” she asked. Damon grinned.
“Meet me outside,” he replied. “I'll drive.”
Alina sat in the passenger seat of the black Jeep Wrangler and watched the lights of Philadelphia sparkle in the distance. They were crossing the bridge to head north on I-95. When she had emerged from the house, Damon was waiting in the Jeep, dressed in black cargo pants and black teeshirt stretched taught across his shoulders. They drove now in a comfortable silence, and Alina stared out the window at the inky blackness of the Delaware River below them. She felt more at ease now, dressed in loose-fitting black cargo pants and a fitted olive tank top. A lightweight black jacket concealed the .45 holstered at her back, and the knife was back in its proper place, strapped to her ankle. While she enjoyed wearing platform heels just as much as the next girl, it was nice to be back to work. Alina glanced at the strong profile next to her. And, she had to admit, it was nice not to be the one driving for once.
“What are you thinking?” Hawk asked, catching her glance in the flash of a street light high above them as he pulled onto 95. Alina smiled slightly.
“That it's nice to be along for the ride for once,” she answered truthfully. “I think I'm enjoying the whole no-responsibility thing.”
Damon looked over and smiled.
“You think?” he said with a laugh. Alina grinned.
“Well, I don't see myself making a practice of this, but for just once, it's kind of nice,” she retorted.
Damon chuckled and turned his attention back to the road as they fell silent again. Alina returned her gaze to the billboards that were flashing by. She was surrounded by the fresh, woodsy scent that was all Hawk, and lethargy stole through her. She knew she could trust him, and with that knowledge came a sense of relief. Whatever Hawk was doing here, he wasn't working against her. She could relax and focus on what she had to do.
“So tell me about John,” Damon said after a few more miles of silence.
Alina sighed.
“I knew you wouldn't leave that alone,” she muttered.
Damon grinned.
“Cast iron?” he demanded, looking at her. “Really?”
“It was a teapot,” Alina retorted. “One of those decorative Chinese things.”
Damon looked at her and his eyes were filled with laughter.
“Well, at least it wasn't a frying pan,” he murmured. “What did you do with it?”
Alina let out a long, loud sigh.
“I threw it at his head,” she told him. “It split his forehead open and knocked him out cold.”
Damon nodded.
“I would imagine it would.” He was quiet for a second. “What did you do after knocking him out?”
“Went down the shore.”
Damon burst out laughing.
“Let me guess....” he said, looking at her. “Stephanie and Angela joined you.”
Alina nodded and shrugged.
“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” she replied. “I called the paramedics and then left. John was smart enough not to press charges.”
“So you know I have to ask why,” Damon said after a moment, his lips still twitching. Alina nodded.
“I know.” She looked over at him. “And since you weaseled your way into that fiasco of a dinner, I suppose you should know. John and I were engaged before I joined up. He had an affair and I caught them in our bed. It was a messy ending to a not-so fabulous relationship to begin with. That's all there is to it.”
“Interesting.” Damon turned his attention back to the road. “And now he works with Stephanie.”
“I always said the Feds weren't too picky about who they hired,” Alina said, leaning her head back against the seat. “Do you plan on driving like an old lady the whole way there?” she asked. “We could have been there ten minutes ago.”
Damon grinned.
“I thought you were enjoying the ride,” he pointed out. Alina shrugged.
“That was before you slowed down to slower than my grandmother would drive, if I had one,” she retorted.
Damon laughed and lowered his foot on the gas.
“My apologies,” he murmured.
Alina nodded complacently.
“Accepted,” she answered as the Jeep sped up again.
Damon cut the lights and pulled off to the side of the road. They were in the mountains of Bucks County, where the houses were small compounds and the property taxes were small fortunes. Damon had stopped a good half-mile down the country road from Frankie Solitto's compound. Alina got out of the Jeep silently in the darkness and waited for her eyes to grow accustomed to the pitch blackness of the mountainside. Damon walked around the back of the Jeep and joined her silently. He placed his ha
nd on Alina's elbow and guided her in the direction he wanted to go. Alina stepped into the trees with him before gently pulling her elbow away. Damon looked down at her and she motioned that she was going to circle around to the back of the property. Damon nodded and watched as she disappeared into the blackness.
She never made a sound. It was as if she simply vanished. Damon smiled to himself. Viper was one of very few people he could honestly say he trusted enough to work beside. And her stealth and skill were only part of the reason, he admitted to himself, as he began to make his way towards the front of Frank Solitto's massive compound. He moved silently through the woods, avoiding the sentries by the simple act of sniffing. Frankie's security apparently didn't buy into the new-fangled idea that smoking could cause death. They were easily avoided and, within minutes, Damon found himself outside the thick, ten foot stone wall that surrounded the house. He paused, wondering if Viper had found a way through the back yet.
Frankie had dogs. That was one of the reasons he had wanted her to come. Alina had a way with animals. None of them ever discussed it, but everyone who had trained with her had seen it. It was almost magical. Animals just understood her.
Damon waited for a moment. He caught the distant sound of an engine, and then the crunch of wheels on the dirt road leading up to the compound. Sliding into the shadows, he watched as headlights became visible in the darkness. A moment later, a dark SUV came into sight. The gates to his right creaked as they swung open ponderously, the motor that controlled them humming in the darkness. Damon watched the SUV approach the gates, but he couldn't see beyond the glare of the lights from the inner courtyard reflecting off the windows. He took mental note of the plates as the SUV rolled through the gates, and then the vehicle was lost from sight as the gates swung closed again. He heard voices on the other side of the wall, and a few moments later those were gone as well as the occupants moved indoors. Silence fell again to the night, and Hawk moved out of the shadows.
Viper materialized next to him. She motioned for him to follow her and led him a little further down, where she proceeded to scale the wall effortlessly and disappear over the top. Damon followed, landing silently next to her. Directly in front of them were a collection of rose and lilac bushes. He smiled. Even if someone had been watching, their entry would have been concealed by the bushes and the shadows they provided. Alina grabbed his wrist and pulled him down behind one of the bushes.
“The dogs are on the other side of the house. They won't be a problem,” she whispered in his ear, her breath tickling his neck. “The guard at the back is sleeping now. Frankie just received someone who looks like a courier. He was in the library at the back of the house, but now he's with the visitor in the front. He'll return to the library. He left his drink and cigar there. That will probably be your best bet.”
“And the other guards?” Damon whispered back. Alina smiled.
“There are only two more and they're at the front,” she answered.
Damon nodded and they moved out of the shadows toward the back of the house. When they passed the body near the back of the house, he glanced down. The guard had been bound and gagged securely and his shoes removed. If he woke up, he wasn't going to be making a sound. Alina led him to the windows of the library at the back. He stood against the wall next to one while she did the same on the other side. Damon looked in.
The light on the desk was still on, and there was another lamp on near the door. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with books, most leather bound and some with paper dust covers. A big and heavy mahogany desk dominated the room from its position in front of the windows, and Damon noted the half-finished glass of scotch and the cigar burning in the ashtray. Papers were spread across the desk and a laptop was angled off to the side. Damon looked over to Alina and nodded slightly toward the garden. She nodded back, settling her shoulders against the wall and crossing her arms in front of her. There was a soft click of the window casing, and Damon disappeared silently into the library. Viper made herself comfortable, her eyes and ears attuned to the night surrounding her. Hawk wanted to talk to Frankie alone. Alina didn't know what exactly Damon thought he would learn, but she had every intention of finding out later. In the meantime, she would ensure their privacy from the outdoors.
Damon didn't have long to wait. After a quick inspection of the library, he made himself comfortable in the shadows of the corner to the left of the window, away from both lights. He had only been waiting for a few minutes before he heard voices in the hall.
“I don't care who sent him.” Frank Solitto was saying as he opened the library door. “He's an ignorant worm. Get rid of him. And don't bother me again tonight.”
Frankie slammed the door and turned toward his desk.
He didn't immediately see Damon, which gave Hawk time to examine the head of the New Jersey Family. He was on the taller side, with wide shoulders and graying hair along his temples. Frankie looked good for his age, which Damon estimated to be in the late sixties. He hadn't allowed himself to get soft around the middle as most older generation Italians did, but appeared to be fit and solid. His jaw was still angular, but the soft skin of his neck was looking a little puffy. His olive skin was lined and his eyes were deep-set and alert. Damon could see why Frank Solitto still demanded such respect. He was an imposing force in and of itself, radiating power and confidence.
“What the...” Frankie caught sight of Damon as he got closer to his desk. “Who the hell are you?!”
“Just someone who wants to talk,” Hawk answered softly. He shifted so that Frankie could see the gun at his hip. “I'm not here to start anything, but for your own sake, I wouldn't make any sudden moves.”
“How the hell did you get in here?” Frankie demanded, his eyes flashing as he took in the gun on Damon's hip.
“Through the window,” Damon answered readily. “I want to discuss Martin Sladecki.”
“Oh, do you, now?” Frank shot back sarcastically. He started to move toward the desk and Damon clucked disapprovingly.
“I would rather you stayed away from your desk for the time being,” he said, pulling the gun from his belt holster. “I don't feel that we've achieved a sense of trust yet,” he added apologetically.
Frankie stared at him for a second, then chuckled.
“Oh you don't, eh?” he asked. He crossed in front of his desk and seated himself in one of the leather chairs off to the side. “I don't suppose that has anything to do with the gun you're waving around?”
“Not at all.” Damon smiled coldly. “It has to do with the semi-automatic pistol that you have in your desk drawer. And before you reach for it, I've taken the liberty of removing the gun from under the seat of that chair as well.”
Frank's eyes narrowed.
“Who the hell are you and what do you want?” he demanded.
“It doesn't matter who I am,” Damon retorted, “and I told you what I want. I want to talk about your former employee, Martin.”
Frank snorted.
“Martin was a fink. A useless piece of nothing,” he told him. “The only reason he was still on my payroll was because it was cheaper than NOT having him on my payroll, if you get what I mean.”
“Did you kill him?” Hawk asked.
“No, I didn't kill him,” he answered. “Why do you want to know?”
“Did one of your associates kill him?” Hawk asked. Frankie waved his hand dismissively.
“Of course not.” A note of impatience entered his voice. “Martin was pushed into the path of a moving freight train in the middle of a residential area. Do you really think anything that indiscreet would be done by me or my associates?”
“No.” Damon tucked his gun away again and crossed his arms. “But the Feds are going to be here tomorrow asking you the same thing, so someone thinks it's a possibility.”
“The Feds?” Frankie looked up. “Again? What do they think, I got nothing better to do than worry about has-beens like Sladecki?”
Damon shr
ugged.
“He was working for someone else,” he pointed out. “Everyone knows that you don't allow that.”
Frankie studied Damon silently for a moment, and Hawk allowed him the time to think.
“You're not a Fed,” Frankie finally said. “And you're not one of the New Yorkers. Why do you want to know about that piece of nothing?”
“Let's just say that my interest is...specialized,” Damon answered.
Frankie snorted and grinned.
“In that case, I'm glad I didn't try to take that .45 from you by force,” he said, sitting back and crossing his long legs.
Damon smiled slightly.
“I wouldn't advise it,” he agreed.
Frankie pondered him in silence again. Damon stared back steadily.
“What's in it for me if I talk?” Frankie asked. Damon smiled.
“I won't kill you,” he answered simply.
Frankie took in Hawk's big shoulders and lean frame and studied him some more. He finally shrugged.
“I'll tell you more than I'll tell the damn Feds, anyway,” he decided. “I like you, even if you did disrespect me by coming into my home this way.”
Damon bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement.
“There was no other way,” he replied and Frankie nodded again.
“Well, then, what do you want to know?” he demanded.
“Who was Martin working for aside from your Family?” Damon asked.
Frankie shook his head.
“Martin got caught up with bad people,” he said slowly. “The one, Angelo, he floated up in the river about a week back. That's when Martin started acting funny. So I had him watched.”