“Never mind, Dad. The windows are bulletproof,” Jimmy says.
“No such thing as bulletproof,” Vincent says. “You don’t know what they’ve got in the back of that mail truck.”
“We can handle this. Get to the panic room till this blows over. I built this house like a fortress. We don’t call it the castle for nothing.”
The Boss looks at you. “Is this supposed to be the cavalry coming over the hill for you?”
“We had a talk,” you admit. “The Romanians are very angry and vengeance drives a postal truck.”
The old man is still ice. He smirks and shrugs. “So you don’t just want out, after all. You’re a fucking traitor to The Machine, out to destroy us.”
“I’m the slipped gear.”
Vincent ignores you. “C’mon, Pete. We got a safe spot while the boys take care of business. Barbara? Lily? This isn’t your world. Let’s go. You’ve got to be a young idiot with too much testosterone and too many bullets to stay out here and deal with this shit.”
The boss has a right to look untroubled. That RPG will tear the vehicles into metal shards, charred flesh and bits of bone. The guys with the Kalashnikovs will clean up the Banda before they get anywhere near the front door.
The guys behind the fountain wisely hold their fire, waiting for closer, more realistic targets. However, from behind the inner gate, Chico does a very macho, idiotic thing he probably learned from movies. He stands behind the gate’s bars and levels the big Remington at the truck. You can’t hear the rifle with that big can on it, suppressing the report, but you see Chico rock from the rifle’s kick. He looks like a kid with an air rifle plinking at a tin can with a bb gun.
There’s enough space between the outer and inner gates that, this time, the van gets some speed up before it hits the second gate. You’re sure Chico will get chewed up under the big truck’s wheels in an ugly death, but you’re wrong. Nervous and fooling with the rifle bolt too long, he has just enough time to take one step toward safety when the mail truck hits the second gate. When it busts in, the wall of metal sweeps him away like it’s a giant’s open hand. Everyone stands still, transfixed, as Chico is thrown aside, his body and brains shattered against the wall of the gatehouse. Marv is avenged in a grisly fashion.
“Ooh! I thought they’d wait until after the kids’ funerals, at least,” Jimmy says absently.
“I was sure they weren’t going to hit us till at least tonight, after dark.” Vincent sounds like a general, surveying a battle, safe behind the front lines. Or so he thinks.
Time to pipe up. “The Banda had some inside information, Mr. Lima.”
“Shut up!” Jimmy can’t look away from the battle. One of his guys opens up. The AK fire is close, but the gunfire is outgoing, not incoming. “This is already over. We can hold off a hundred guys with half a dozen.”
You rise from your chair and Bald Van wheels from the window’s distractions, the SPAS-12 up and ready to send you bleeding and flying, just like Jake Cibrian. You can’t take your eyes off the shotgun’s muzzle. Its darkness looks like the future.
“Run Lily! Get out of here! The Romanians are coming. They want vengeance for their boss and his little kids and they’re going to get it. Vincent, in a moment, you’re going to wonder if murdering a rat son and oiling your machine was worth it. I know you don’t care about the money because you’ve already got plenty. You care if we care about the money. You wanted to know who would stay and who would go if they had a chance at a blank slate. Surprise! Anybody with imagination wants out. The Italians have it right. At least they call their mobs ‘families.’ You call us your Machine. We ain’t cogs and gears. We want to make choices, too. We want to be free.”
Vincent looks at Bald Van. “Christ, Van. He’s making speeches like fucking Castro over there. Why haven’t you blown that little motherfucker’s head off, yet?”
The Boss is on the move. It’s time.
Bald Van shrugs and raises the shotgun.
“Uh-uh-uh!” You raise one fist high above your head and, perplexed, Van lowers the muzzle a few inches, trying to decipher your play.
“Vincent, you should know that not all the parts on your precious Cutlass Supreme are original anymore.”
You open your hand to reveal your keys. On the key ring is a bright red car remote that has big googly eyes and a cartoony smile glued to it. Denny bought the novelty car remote from the same street vendor who sold him the disposable camera on that sunny summer day you took Lily to Coney Island. Denny recognizes it from his own arsenal. With his good leg he kicks, throwing all his weight backward and tipping the loveseat over backward, taking Barbara over with him.
Vincent processes what you said about his car and has just enough time to let his jaw drop slack. Jimmy, oblivious to the real danger, turns only half a step from the window. Bald Van raises the SPAS-12 and tightens up, ready to blow you apart as you throw yourself backward and cover your head with your arms as the shotgun booms. The buckshot cuts the air over your head.
You press the remote’s button. The receiver in the Cutlass’s trunk detonates the Semtex.
A bright, white flash. BOOM!
You feel the thud of the bomb’s concussion through your body as the floor shakes under you. The roar deafens. Your eardrums whine in shock at the concussion.
The remote in Denny’s freezer gave you the idea for this frontal assault in daylight. Denny had a brick of C-4 stashed in there, but it was the Romanians who helped you and Marv pack the trunk and wheel wells with Semtex.
The Romanians knew Vincent’s car, of course. If you and Marv hadn’t driven straight to the Banda with the Cutlass, they surely would have shot you in the head when you showed up at their headquarters. When you offered them vengeance for their boss and his two dead children, they didn’t smile. They nodded grimly and got to work. You weren’t really sure the Romanian electrician who wired the car bomb had done a satisfactory job until the bomb’s blast rocked the mansion.
Time warps and you don’t know how fast or slow it’s passing as the Earth’s turning gears of time pause and hitch. Eventually, after who knows how long, you shake your head and roll on to your back. You spot the Baby Grand tipped on one side and roll toward it. You’re screaming for Lily, but your voice sounds muffled and far away. You can’t find your SIG.
When you chance a peek over the piano, you find that the outdoors is now indoors. Something’s on fire and white smoke rolls over you, getting thicker by the minute. The mansion’s stone facade has melted away and much of the second floor is gone.
A huge shape with four legs looms haltingly out of the smoke. It’s Big Denny De Molina, covered in ash except where his bleeding wounds trickle down the side of his head. His left shoulder sports a deep gash, too. He looks like an angry ghost on crutches. He’s got your pistol in his fist. That’s it. You’re dead. Goodbye Jesus Salvador Umberto Luis Diaz.
You wonder what happens next. When you open your eyes, will you be in Hell? Is it like the priests say? Everlasting pain and flame that burns but never consumes? Will Denny’s dead neighbor look down on you from heaven and piss on you from fluffy white clouds, laughing at your pain? Or will Hell mean you’re trapped again in the Bug Man’s basement, this time forever? Will Tia Marta be a devil holding a plastic bag in one claw and a burning whip in the other? Will all the scars on your back open and never close?
Or will nothing come next? Is Death just darkness and nothingness, a return to the blissful unconsciousness of whatever you were before you were born? That wouldn’t be so bad, except there will be no Lily. Lily makes you want to live.
When you open your eyes, Big Denny is leaning on his crutches and Barbara stands by her man. The way Barbara looks at Denny, they’re like teenagers who have just shared their last first kiss. You wish Lily looked at you that way, but maybe you’ve still got a chance at becoming the man who is worthy of that look. Denny grips the SIG by the barrel and holds your weapon out to you. “The pussy’s out of the bag
now, man. No point killing you now.”
You take your pistol and, when helps you up, you discover your switchblade at your feet. Denny tips his head toward the rear of the great room. Barbara leads the way to the bookcases. She steps over Vincent’s legs to do it.
The Boss is slumped against a wall. His shirt is so bloody, it’s sucked to him. The old guy is still alive, but the way he looks up at you, you wonder how many of you he sees. He gives you a brave half-smile and closes his eyes.
You don’t look back. “Lily? Lily!”
Barbara slides the bookcase back to reveal the panic room’s steel door. Barbara knocks three times. “Open up! It’s me!”
Two locks click open. Lily peers out, her eyes wet. Tears stream down her cheeks as she points behind her. She dragged Pete in there in the confusion of the Romanians’ attack, but Pete’s just a heap on the floor now. His eyes are open. Even in death, his eyes are shark’s eyes.
Lily’s cool hands clasp your face and you pull her to you. Your hearing is recovering. That distant screaming is Jimmy Lima. He must have fallen through the floor as his castle walls collapsed. He’s screaming that his legs are broken.
Barbara covers her ears and leans into Denny. You knew Jimmy was mean, but in her face you see yourself the night you killed Tia Marta. Barbara has no pity or regret left for her husband. All that’s left for Jimmy’s demise is…relief?
“That screaming will make it easier for the Romanians to find him through the smoke. Don’t worry, Barbara. They won’t let the fire take him. They’ll want the satisfaction.”
There’s more gunfire. It sounds like it’s coming from behind the house.
You grab Lily’s shoulder and pull, but Denny’s big paw holds you back. He holds out the locker key. “Tómelo.” Take it.
“You’re sure?”
Denny grins. “The cops will be here soon. Barb was talking about redecorating, anyway. We’ll stay. It was always the plan that she’d get the house in the divorce. Now we’re going to get everything. And besides,” he looks down at his leg and his shoulder wound, “I’m not up to running. Running is your thing.”
You take the key. “Gracias. Sorry about the leg, bro.”
“I should have trusted you about Barb, but you always cheated me on splitting the restaurant bills.”
“You…The restaurant tabs? Really?”
“I can do math better than you think. If a dude will take me on the little things, I can’t trust him with something as big as messing with the under-boss’s wife.”
You want to say something. There isn’t time. Lily pulls you away and Barbara pulls Denny into the panic room. The door slides closed and the locks click.
You’ve thrown a brother away again.
THE GARAGE
A couple of the Banda, Ion and Mihai, are waiting for you in Jimmy Lima’s underground garage. Before you can say anything, Mihai, the tall black-bearded Romanian who wired the Semtex, claps you on the shoulder. “Jesus!”
“I told you, it’s pronounced, Hay-soose.”
“Sure. Big bang boom, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
Ion, looking amped up, steps from behind Mihai. He carries an Uzi and you wonder if he got it from one of Jimmy’s fallen guards. He gives you the fish eye. You’re glad you have the SIG tucked into the back of your waistband so your hands are empty and he can’t take anything you do as a sign of aggression.
Mihai gives you a broad smile. “The Banda thanks you for your help. You did the right thing. Boss Cob and his children will rest in peace.”
“You’re welcome,” you say. “The ride I came in on is a jigsaw of thousands of tiny pieces. I need one of Jimmy’s cars. It won’t be long before the cops are on the way. We made too big a bang boom.”
Mihai laughs and points you toward a sporty Toyota. “Yeah, we gotta finish our business and get everybody out. The keys are in it, Jesus.” Behind the Toyota is an older model Ford sedan.
You tear open the Toyota’s driver’s side door and yell at Lily to jump in. You climb behind the wheel. In your rearview mirror, you catch Ion and Mihai running for the far side of the garage. Lily’s cool hand covers yours as you’re about to turn the ignition.
You duck your head. A green and blue wire snakes out under the steering column and disappears under the dash. “Sons of bitches! The Romanians had a little bit of Semtex left over. Just enough to blow us back to a basement in Florida.”
“What?”
“Never mind. We’re about to conduct a science experiment to see how stable Semtex is.” You reach under the dash and rip the wires free. “Put your seatbelt on.” You pause and hand Lily the blue and green wires. “Better keep your head down and hold these wires apart, okay?”
Ion yells out to you from the darkness. “Go! Go! The police will be here soon! We’re clearing out in a few minutes!”
You roll down your window. “What?”
Ion steps out into view. “I said — ”
You gun the engine and, to Ion’s disappointment, you’re still here. Ion’s face snaps shut into a grimace of hate and frustration and he’s pulling the Uzi up as you slip into reverse and press the accelerator into the floorboard. The Toyota jumps backward. Ion raises his weapon to take you out but hesitates when he realizes that even if he shoots you in the head, the momentum of the car will still run him down. That moment is all you need. He leaps to the side, you twist the wheel and slam his body into a pillar. The thug is pinned upright at the waist. The shock doesn’t take him. Instead, he screams.
You roll out of the Toyota and come up into a crouch and raise the SIG. You put Ion out of his misery with one shot through his forehead.
Mihai rises up behind the Ford. He doesn’t have time to reach for the Beretta in his shoulder holster. Your aim is already locked on the center of his chest. You take the Beretta from him and hand it to Lily. She holds it as if you just handed her a full ashtray.
“Mihai,” you say, “I’m having a pretty bad day, man.”
“Mine’s worse,” he says. He puts his hands high over his head.
“Why? We had a deal.”
He shrugs, staring at your pistol as if, through sheer concentration, he can transform it into a wad of cotton candy. “A guy like you? An enforcer who can turn his back on his own people? You did the right thing helping us avenge the children, but…it was decided.”
“That makes no sense. You knew I was getting out, anyway.”
Mihai shrugs. “Clean slate. A guy like you — ”
“Yeah, a guy like me…. The best friend I ever had just told me in not so many words that I’m a piece of shit a few minutes ago. Turn around and get on your knees.”
Mihai does as he’s told, but he asks, trying to get in one last dig, “Was Denny wrong?”
“There were…circumstances, but no, he’s not totally wrong.” Then you see the double-cross. “I didn’t say it was Denny.”
“Um…”
“You called me Jee-zuzz. You don’t think I know a Judas by now?” You stick the SIG’s barrel along his cheek so he can hear its cold mouth whisper promises of a dark future. “What was Denny going to give you?”
“Expansion into New Jersey and no more competition from The Machine there.”
“What else?”
“Nothing else.”
“You ever see Cop Land with Sly Stallone? Serious movie. He’s a half deaf sheriff.”
“I’ve got nothing to tell you!”
“A gunshot next to Sly’s ear — this close, Mihai — almost deafens him. Bursting an eardrum? I’m told it hurts so much you just wish someone would do you the favor of shooting you in the head so it’s over. What else?”
Mihai spits on the concrete and shrugs. He’s an old soldier, but even the code of silence can’t matter that much to a guy who’s about to be executed. “Denny called us right after you left with Vincent’s car. Denny’s going to be The Machine’s new boss. He made a better deal. He said as soon as you are dead, he’d tell
us where to find a storage locker stuffed with money as a bonus.”
“I’m very disappointed, Mihai.”
He chances a look back at you and says, “Denny could have let you walk away. We didn’t care as long as we got Jimmy and Vincent Lima. New territory and less competition from The Machine, respecting boundaries…that was more than we expected. You think Big Denny’s your best friend? You really must be a piece of shit, huh, Jesus?”
You glance Lily’s way. Her wide, wet eyes tell you this is too much for her. You’ve got to get her out of here.
“Mihai, I’m going to prove to you that I’m not as bad a guy as you’ve been told.” You turn the SIG over in your hand and bring the butt down on the spot behind his ear as hard as you can. It takes a few swings, but after some flopping around, he’s finally out.
“Christ, Jesus!”
“Relax. He’s not dead. He’s got a concussion. He might not be able to do long division any time soon. Explaining to the cops why he’s here will give him a wicked headache. By the time he gets out of jail, that beard’s going to be long and white. Let’s go.”
But Lily doesn’t move. “He tried to kill us. You killed his buddy. He’ll come after us. Or he’ll send somebody after us from jail. Why didn’t you kill him?”
Mihai is already coming around, moaning. His fingers touch his skull and come away bloody, but he’s feeble, dazed and no threat now.
“I don’t want to be the guy Denny knew, Lily. I want to be the guy you want to know. I’m going to be the guy who studies art with you in Spain and Paris. I’m going to be the good guy, babe.”
“You’re not.” Lily raises Mihai’s Beretta and shoots him in the head. His body shudders and is still. She keeps firing until the pistol clicks empty. The Romanian’s head is a bowl full of salsa.
THE MAN YOU ARE NOT
Lily tosses Ion’s Uzi into the Ford’s back seat and puts the Beretta to your head. Sirens wail in the distance. “Get us out of here!”
It will probably be firefighters who arrive first, but a properly executed getaway would be a great idea, preferably at least several minutes ago. There’s a little business to be taken care of first.
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