Brando

by Marita A. Hansen

  Miko grabbed Brando’s face and yanked it around. “This is punishment for you killing my Don and his wife, as well as treating me like merda, you arrogant stronzo. I know you thought I was a useless, fat cunt who would jump every time you snapped your fingers. Well, you don’t have the power anymore, I do. So, shut the fuck up and look at the bed,” he said, letting go of Brando’s face.

  Brando focused on the headboard, trying not to see what Irene was doing to his brother. I will kill her, I will kill her, I will kill her, he chanted in his head. He turned his glare on Miko. And you, too.

  “Get your eyes off me, Santini,” Miko snapped.

  “I’m not a Santini, I’m a D’Angelo.”

  “I don’t care what you consider yourself to be, eyes on the bed.”

  Brando returned his gaze to the headboard, wishing his could close his ears as well as his eyes. Irene was emitting little cries, sounding like she was close to coming. She didn’t care that Vinnie was in pain, his wrists and ankles bleeding from pulling on the cuffs so hard, all she cared about was using his brother’s body—like the priest had used Brando’s.

  Miko grabbed Brando’s face again, yanking it down, probably knowing he wasn’t looking. Irene was now gripping onto Vinnie’s throat, crying out as she came. Vinnie shook his head vigorously, trying to dislodge her hands, the ball-gag in his mouth muffling his distress. Irene finally let go and flopped down on him. Several seconds later, she kissed Vinnie on the cheek, murmuring that she loved him, her words nothing but a sick joke.

  A loud explosion shook the house, jolting everyone in the room.

  Irene shot off Vinnie. “What was that?!”

  Miko pulled out his radio. “What’s happening?” he barked into it.

  “We’re under attack!” someone yelled from the other end. “It looks like the Vipers and the Santini! Oh, merda!” A burst of gunfire rang out, followed by another explosion.

  “Marino! Are you okay?!” Miko shouted into the radio.

  No reply came back.

  Miko’s eyes shot to Irene. “We need to leave, now!”

  Her attention moved to the muscular soldier by the door. “Dino, get more soldiers to carry out my husband. Pronto!”

  Dino left the room, returning quickly with three soldiers. He unclipped a key from his belt and headed for Vinnie, unlocking the cuffs. Two of the soldiers yanked Vinnie out of bed. Vinnie’s legs went limp, although his cock was still hard; whatever Irene had injected him with affecting his body adversely. It looked like he couldn’t stand on his own, the soldiers having to hold him up.

  “Out. Now!” Irene barked.

  The two soldiers dragged Vinnie out of the room, the third one following with a gun. Irene went to follow too, but stopped, her eyes going to Brando. She walked over to Miko. “Give me your gun.”

  Miko handed it over.

  “Go help my cousins,” she said. “I’ll finish him off.”

  Miko left the room with Dino.

  Irene returned her attention to Brando. She swung the gun, hitting him across the cheek. Brando grunted. Irene grabbed his face, digging her nails into his flesh. “Looks like I can’t torture you now, but I can take satisfaction in killing you.” She let go and placed the gun to his forehead.

  “Go ahead,” Brando said, “you’ll succeed where I’ve failed.”

  She lowered the gun. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I put a bullet in my head, it’s still in there.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “You tried to commit suicide?”

  “Sì. So shoot me.”

  She scowled at him. “Not until you tell me why you want to die, stronzo? You’re rich, beautiful, and have fucking everything.”

  “The wealth I’ve attained is from killing people, my beauty got me raped numerous times when I was younger,” he said, no longer caring about hiding it, his death imminent, “and I recently found out I’m a D’Angelo, fathered by a man I accidentally killed in a hit. So, fucking shoot me, troia, because everything I have is worse than death itself.”

  She stared at him, her face surprised.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “You have nothing you want to live for? Even your daughter?”

  “I don’t know her and she’s better off without me. I’m a curse.”

  She grimaced. “You are. I hate you.”

  “Not as much as I hate myself. So shoot me!”

  “Not on your terms, bastardo.”

  Another bomb blast made her jolt. She ran to the window and looked through the curtains. “Cazzo!” She grabbed the phone off the desk and dialed through. “I need three soldiers to transfer Brando. Pronto!” She hung up.

  “Why won’t you kill me?!” Brando yelled.

  “Because that’s what you want, and I want to cause you pain. So, you’re coming downstairs, where I will kill your daughter in front of you.”

  His eyes widened. “She’s an innocent.”

  Irene smiled. “As you said, she’s better off without you; just in her case, she’ll get it through death.”

  “Then I did your father a favor.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s better off dead than having you as a daughter. He was talking to your mother about you before I shot them. He wanted to put you in a mental hospital.” Brando forced himself to laugh. “Your own father wanted to lock you away.”

  “You’re lying!”

  “Am I? Really? Because you are fucked up. You raped my brother in front of me.”

  “I didn’t rape him; I made love to him!”

  “He fucking hates you, especially since you murdered his amore, you fucking nut-job!”

  She stormed up to him, placing the gun to his head.

  “Shoot me! Just fucking do it!”

  She removed the gun and pushed her face in front of his. “No, you will suffer—”

  He rammed his head into hers, knocking her back. She yelled out and fell to the floor. Three soldiers ran in, one of them going to her. She swatted his hands away and pushed up, wobbling on her feet. She jolted as gunfire started up outside.

  One of the soldiers shouted, “We need to evacuate! We’re outnumbered.”

  Irene pointed at Brando. “Bring him downstairs; knock him out if you have to. He’s going through the passage.”

  “We don’t have time, just shoot him. The Orsini, Santini, and Vipers are attacking us.”

  “No! I want to make his life fucking miserable, so don’t question me again! And if you don’t get him out, you might as well shoot yourself, because I’ll do a lot worse.” She took off out of the room, yelling at one of the soldiers to follow her.

  The remaining soldiers turned to Brando. One of them pointed a gun at him, while the other unhooked him from the cross. Once he was freed, the soldier with the gun ordered him to leave the room. Brando headed into the passage.

  The soldier shoved him forward. “Faster!”

  Brando righted himself and looked to his left, spotting an empty bedroom. Seeing an opportunity to escape, he flung himself through the doorway and rolled over onto his feet. The soldiers rushed in after him. Brando held his hands up, both of the soldiers now holding guns. They were about his size, maybe a fraction shorter. He smiled, knowing he could take them out easily.

  “Out!” the first one snapped, aiming the gun at his face.

  Brando glanced to his right, the door to the bathroom open.

  “Don’t even think about it,” the soldier said. “We’ll shoot you.”

  “Your mistress wants me alive to torture.”

  “Just get out!”

  “Make me.”

  The soldier fired his weapon, hitting the wall next to Brando. “The next one will be in your leg.”

  “Then you’ll have to carry me out.”

  “Are you fucking mad?” the soldier said. “I just threatened to shoot you.”

  “No, I was stalling.” He looked past them. “Kill them, Ricardo.”

  Both soldiers spun
around, falling for his lie. Brando ran into the bathroom, locking himself in. Seconds later, the soldiers started bashing against the door, yelling at him to open it. Brando glanced around the room, looking for a possible weapon, but only spotting shower gel. He grabbed it and squirted the clear liquid on the floor, then stepped a few paces away from the door. A gun went off, the lock getting shot out. The door flew open, one of the soldiers appearing.

  “Out!” the soldier shouted.

  “Make me.”

  The soldier stepped inside the bathroom, yelling out as he lost his footing. He went down on the slippery floor, dropping his gun as he hit the surface. Brando swiped it up and shot the other soldier as he appeared in the doorway, then fired at the one on the floor, killing them both. He stepped over the dead soldiers and exited the room, heading for the staircase. He quickly descended it, listening out for both his enemies and allies. Gunfire was going off, while distant voices were coming from a doorway on his right. He ran for it, finding another staircase, which he knew led to prison cells, something he’d discovered after visiting the Landi when they were allies.

  He descended the staircase quietly and poked his head around the corner, spotting two Landi soldiers snapping at a woman to enter the passageway. Brando aimed his gun at the closest soldier, shooting him in the back of the head. The other soldier spun around, getting a bullet between his eyes. The woman screamed and ran through the passage doorway.

  Recognizing her as a Landi, Brando raced after the woman, shooting her in the back of the head as they entered the cellblock. Shouting came from behind the prison doors. Brando glanced through the window of the first cell. Gypsies filled the room, all of them good-looking, their nakedness telling him they were sex slaves, two of them Balak brothers.

  Ignoring their pleas for freedom, Brando continued into the adjoining passageway, hoping his shots hadn’t alerted his enemies. He came to another corner and peered around it, spotting a soldier disappearing through a doorway that led outside. Keeping his gun at the ready, Brando followed. As he reached the doorway, he flattened himself against the wall and peered around the jamb. Under the light of the moon, people were piling into cars. Most of them were women and children, with several soldiers helping, far too many for him to take on and win.

  His attention moved to a car several feet away, Irene’s voice drawing him to it. The bitch, who was now dressed, climbed into the back seat, an unconscious Vinnie getting shoved in after her.

  Noise came from the floor above him. Someone shouted out his name and Vinnie’s. Knowing he now had backup, he focused on Irene’s car, shooting the man opening the driver’s door. The other soldiers spun around and pulled out their guns. Brando shot another man as well as a tire, then turned and ran, aware he was going to have a shitload of soldiers on his heels.

  He sprinted down the passage, skidding around the corner. Without wasting time, he raced for the doorway that led onto the cellblock, flinging himself through it as gunfire came his way. He rolled to his right, using the wall as cover. His eyes snapped to the staircase as Ivy and D appeared.

  “Incoming!” he yelled, pushing to his feet.

  The women ran to his side. D fired at a Landi soldier as he emerged through the doorway, hitting him in the side of the head. Another soldier appeared, Brando taking him out with a head shot too. Shouts came from the passageway, “Retreat!”

  D poked her head around the corner, then disappeared through the doorway. Brando went to follow, but got yanked back by Ivy. She pulled him into a hug.

  “No time for hugs,” he said, detaching himself from her.

  He raced after D, his main concern Vinnie. Ivy followed him. They skidded to a halt as D flung herself around the corner, gunfire barely missing her.

  “There’s too many,” she said.

  The sound of cars leaving caught Brando’s attention. “They’re getting away with Vinnie!”

  Swearing, D turned the corner and fired off consecutive shots. Brando followed her, taking out a soldier, but too late, the man’s bullet hitting D in the leg. She cried out and dropped to the floor. Brando threw himself around the corner as another soldier replaced the man he’d killed.

  Ivy barked at him, “Have you been hit?!”

  “No.” He pushed to his feet. “But D has.”

  He peered around the corner, seeing her clutching her leg, the soldier now gone. Ivy pushed past him, going to D. Pounding boots came from behind him. Brando glanced over his shoulder, seeing Salvatore rapidly approaching, his brother’s hands and clothes smeared with blood.

  “Are you injured?” Brando asked.

  “No, this isn’t my blood.” Salvatore slotted his gun into his holster, the knife in his sheath bloody. “Where’s Vinnie?”

  “In a car, going fuck knows where.”

  “What’s the plan, then?”

  “Go help D, she’s around the corner and injured, while I’ll go see if I can find out where Vinnie’s been taken.”

  “Onto it.” Salvatore headed past him.

  Knowing his brother would take care of her, Brando ran for the exit, ignoring Ivy’s yell for him to come back. He stopped in the doorway, taking in the activity outside. Most of the cars were gone, Irene’s included, the remaining two pulling away. He started shooting at the nearest car, hitting the back tires. It spun around, smashing into the other car. Ivy appeared next to him, pulling out a grenade.

  “No! Only guns,” Brando barked, running for the first vehicle.

  He darted to the right as a soldier emerged from it, firing at him. Ignoring his order, Ivy threw the grenade at the man, taking him out. Brando shot a different soldier as he appeared from the other car. The first car started up again, the driver trying to get it moving, the wheels getting stuck in the mud. Brando ran for the driver’s side, shooting through its window, killing the man. He yanked the back door open, finding only screaming Landi women inside. He ran for the other car, pulling the back door open too, making sure there were no more soldiers. Like the first one, it was full of women.

  He grabbed the nearest woman and yanked her out, yelling, “Everyone out!”

  They scrambled out of the car, sobbing and begging him not to kill them.

  “Ivy, you’re driving,” he said.

  She climbed behind the wheel, snapping, “Out!” at someone in the front passenger seat.

  Brando’s eyes went to the person as they emerged from the car. “What are you doing here, Fiore?” he asked, recognizing the woman he’d fucked at the club.

  “I was invited to Irene’s wedding,” she said, looking at him with both fear and hope.

  He shoved the woman he was holding to the ground and stalked over to Fiore. “Get in the back!”

  She scrambled into the back seat.

  Brando followed her in. “Do you know where Irene’s taken my brother Vinnie?”

  “No.”

  Brando placed his gun to her head. “Take a guess.”

  “Probably the beach house,” Fiore spluttered out.

  “I need specifics.”

  “I haven’t been there before,” Fiore sobbed, “but it’s somewhere in East Beach. Please do-don’t kill me, Brando.”

  “I won’t, just as long as you cooperate.” His gaze moved to the rearview mirror, seeing Ivy looking at him. “Head for East Beach and fast.”

  Having already started the engine, Ivy planted her foot.

  Brando returned his attention to Fiore. “You got a phone?”

  She nodded, tears coursing down her cheeks.

  “Ring Irene. Tell her my famiglia have overrun her household and will kill everyone inside if she doesn’t hand back my brother and daughter.”

  “You have a daughter?” Ivy gasped from the driver’s seat.

  “Sì. Her mother was murdered by Irene. She was a gypsy woman.” He leaned his face closer to Fiore. “So, call Irene.”

  With shaky hands, Fiore dialed a number and placed the phone to her ear. “Can I please talk to Irene, it’s an emerge
ncy.” She paused. “Then tell her that the Santini have overrun the house and will kill everyone in it if they don’t get Brando’s brother and daughter back.” She focused on Brando. “The soldier’s telling Irene what I said.” Her attention snapped back to the phone. “What?” she gasped, looking shocked. “But the Santini will kill them. No! My sister’s in there, you have to make Irene give them back.” She started sobbing. “I’m begging you ... please ... make her give them back. No!” She threw the phone onto the floor and covered her face with her hands.

  “What did he say?” Brando asked.

  Fiore shook her head, crying into her hands.

  Brando yanked them down. “What did he say?!”

  “Irene’s going to crucify your daughter,” she sobbed.

  “What? Where?!”

  “The White Hills.”

  His eyes shot to Ivy. “You know where that is?”

  “Yes, the Landi girls were crucified there.”

  Brando snatched Fiore’s phone off the floor and dialed Ricardo’s number, snapping, “Where are you?” into it.

  “The Landi compound. And you?”

  “On my way to the White Hills. Irene’s going to kill my daughter.”

  “Your daughter?”

  “No time to explain, she has Vinnie too. Do you know anyone close to the White Hills?”

  “That’s not far from the Orsini compound. Call Alessandro, get him to send people there.” Gunfire came over the line. “I can’t talk.” He hung up.

  Brando keyed in Alessandro’s number. Dominic answered. “Where are you?” Brando asked. “And why have you got Alessandro’s phone?”

  “I stole it off him a few weeks back,” Dominic yawned. He sounded like he’d just woken up from the sedatives that Alessandro had forced down his throat, after he’d gone ballistic in the cell. “And I have no idea where I am.” He went silent for a moment. “What the fuck? How did I get to the Orsini compound?!” he yelled at someone.

  “That’s my phone!” Alessandro barked. His voice came over the line a second later. “Who’s this?”