Amelia was blunt, Hammer thought, but he also knew Reggie needed to hear it. Reggie needed to know that Amelia was not the one to trifle with.
Reggie knew it, too, but she dismissed it. “Whatever,” she said, and then she looked at Hammer. “Can you answer my question?”
“Amelia just answered it,” he said, as his cellphone began to ring. He pulled it out and looked at the Caller ID. He rose to his feet. “I have to take this,” he said. Then he looked at Reggie. “I’ll talk to you later,” he said as he began to head into a different room. “You can leave now. Watson will see you out.” He then left the room as he answered the phone call.
Amelia inwardly smiled as Watson immediately opened the coat closet and pulled out Reggie’s coat. And it wasn’t lost on Reggie either. Hammer had dismissed her, but left Amelia in place. But that was alright, Reggie thought as she rose to her feet. She’d get hers.
And as she was about to pass Amelia’s chair, she couldn’t resist. “Between you and me,” she said, “you may be his lady now or whatever. You may believe that shit. But you’re still a bitch.”
“Yes, I am,” Amelia agreed, giving her a purposely undaunted look. “But I’m a bad bitch. A real bad bitch. The kind your mama told you to watch out for. So watch yourself.”
Watson smiled. That’s how you handle Reggie Dell, he thought. That’s how you handle such a rude and obnoxious girl! “Right this way, Madam,” he said to an offended Reggie, as he held out her overcoat.
Reggie continued to stand there, staring at Amelia, and then she went to Watson, snatched her coat from him, and then left the house. She pulled out her cellphone before she got into her vehicle. And placed a call.
She had just sat down in her Audi when a male’s voice came on the other end of the line. And she dispensed with niceties. “I’m in,” she said, as she shifted gears and headed away from Charlemagne. “I’m all-in,” she added. “In a big motherfucking way.”
She looked through her rearview mirror at Hammer’s big house, wondering if he was going to have sex with that bitch tonight, and drove fast down the mountain. When Hammer first called for this meeting, she was on the fence about what it was going to be about. She was going to see for herself just what his baby mama was up to. Now she knew Amelia wanted to take Hammer away from her. And Reggie wasn’t on the fence any longer. “What do you want me to do?” she asked.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
His Porsche SUV drove through the streets of Ottawa, the capital city of Canada, in the Ontario province, with the measured speed of a tourist. The Rideau canal that once housed colorful boats and motor crafts during the summer months, was now filled with ice skaters in winter. And like the ice skaters, Hammer was used to the harsh Canadian winters and wore only a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a bomber jacket.
But Amelia, who was not so accustomed, wore jeans and a blazer, a full-length, black and white chinchilla fur coat, a fur hat, and gloves. “You look like an Eskimo,” Hammer had said to her when she first came downstairs in such a get-up, but she didn’t care what he said. For reasons she had no intention of ever revealing, she dreaded the cold and was covering up every inch of her body, if she could.
It was a two-hour drive from Montreal to Ottawa, and they were in town on business, but Hammer, surprising the hell out of Amelia, drove the speed limit all the way. Amelia didn’t realize why, but Hammer knew why. As the chief spy for the USA for many years, he learned how to blend in. He learned how to stay below the radar whenever he was not on his home turf. And although Ottawa was only a couple hours away from his home, it was not his turf. That honor belonged to Martin Peschi, the man they were in town to see.
After taking every second of those two hours to get in town, Hammer finally pulled up to the curb in front of a pub called Scrambles-On-Hudson. He stepped out from behind the wheel and walked around to the passenger side. He opened the door and Amelia, in all of her warm garb, stepped out too. Although Hammer joked about her excessive clothing choice when she first walked down the stairs of his house, he nonetheless thought she looked striking. Which was another reason why he loved her: she had a style all her own, and didn’t care who liked or despised it.
She looked around the less than tranquil neighborhood as Hammer escorted her into the pub. Where she came from, they would have called it the sho’ ‘nuff hood, where drug dealers were boldly selling on the street corner; where prostitutes and their johns were using alleyways for hotels; and where kids ran rampant through the streets as if that dangerous urban jungle was their playground. Oz was back in Montreal with JoJo and Rowena, which didn’t make Amelia mother of the year either, but it still angered her that those kids, including one snotnose that just ran past her, had so little supervision.
“Sure you can trust this guy?” she asked Hammer as they began walking toward the entrance.
But Hammer didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” he said, opened the door for her, and they both entered the pub.
The chatter had been loud and aggressive when they first walked in. But as soon as the patrons, mostly men, glanced at the new arrivals and saw that one of them was Hammer Reese, the chatter completely ceased. Most of those men knew Hammer Reese. Most of those men, who used to be on his shit list at various times when he ran CIA, were stunned that the man himself would be in their humble neighborhood bar.
The bar tender, who also doubled as the manager, hurried from behind the counter and walked over to the twosome. “Good evening, sir, ma’am,” he said.
“Is he in?” Hammer asked.
“Yes, sir, yes he is. Right this way, please.”
The bar tender began walking away. Hammer placed his hand on the small of Amelia’s back, pushing her slightly in front of him, as they followed the bar tender up one flight of stairs, and then a back flight.
Martin Peschi was lying on his stomach on a hard table, with a blanket covering his lower half, getting a back massage when they were escorted in. The image of Jerardo Jovanni, on a similar table, flashed through Amelia’s head. The only difference was that Peschi was a big, fat man with skin so pale it looked translucent.
He looked up when they walked into the room and, when he saw Hammer, nearly looked back down. But then he saw Amelia. His small eyes lit up. “Well hello,” he said, looking her up and down. “Who is this beautiful creature? She certainly knows how to command a room.”
“Hello to you, too, Martin.”
“Fuck you, Hammer,” Peschi replied. “Tell me about the woman.”
Hammer smiled. Peschi was Italian-American who used to be one of his station chiefs. He ran Scrambles as a cover, because he was now on the opposite side of the law. “Martin, this is my lady, Amelia. Amelia, this worthless piece of shit on a table, is Martin.”
Martin smiled. “Don’t mind him. He’s just jealous. How are you, my dear?”
“I’m very well, thank you. How are you?”
“Absolutely happy now that I’ve seen you. But I only have one question. May I ask it?”
“Please do,” Amelia said.
“Why are you wasting your time with that loser over there when you can have all of this?”
“All of what, Pesh?” Hammer asked. “Blubber?”
Even Peschi had to smile. “Sit. Both of you.”
Hammer held one of the chairs for Amelia, and then he sat down too.
“What can I do for you, Hamilton?”
“Tell me what I need to know,” Hammer replied.
“About?”
“Leo Tamberelli taking over Amelia Sinatra’s territory.”
Peschi was a fast learner. “Ah,” he said. “This Amelia?”
“Yes.”
“But . . . forgive me. I thought Amelia Sinatra was Mick the Tick’s sister, no?”
“You ever heard of the brother from another mother?” Hammer asked. “Well she’s the sister from another father.”
“Different fathers? Oh, okay! I see now. I suppose I even see the resemblance. But please excuse me,” he said, looking
at Amelia, “if I’m offending you by saying you favor a fucker like Mick the Tick.”
Amelia smiled. “No offense at all. I welcome the comparison.”
“Do you?” He shook his head. “It’s a crazy world we live in.”
Amelia laughed.
“Tell me what I need to know, Pesh,” Hammer said. “Is Leo T the man behind that land grab?”
Peschi nodded. “It is true.”
“Why is he doing it?”
“He’s doing it as a favor to the heir.”
Hammer and Amelia were both confused. “The heir?” Hammer asked. “What heir?”
“Bulldog Valtone’s heir. His son. He wants what is rightfully his.”
Hammer looked at Amelia. “You didn’t tell me Valtone had another son.”
“Because he doesn’t. At least not one I’d ever met or heard of. All of his sons are dead. Who is this son?” she asked Peschi.
“I have no details on the person,” Peschi said. “That is all I know about him, that he is Bulldog Valtone’s son, and that he wants the family business back.”
“The family business?” Amelia asked. “I slaved in that business all those years, right alongside my husband, and some dude I never saw a day in my life thinks he’s going to take it from me?”
“The nerve of people, I know,” Peschi said. “But that is what he wants.”
“But what does this son have to do with Leo T?” Hammer asked.
“The relationship? That I do not know. I just know this son wants the business back, and Tamberelli is assisting in that effort. And in a lucrative way.”
“Leo is still in Jersey, I know that,” Hammer said. “Is this son also stationed there?”
“I don’t know that either,” Peschi said. “He is as mysterious to me as he is to you. But that is what I know on the subject. He definitely exists, and he wants what he views as rightfully his.”
Hammer exhaled. As if Leo T wasn’t enough of an asshole they had to deal with, now they had a fathom one. He stood up. Amelia stood up too.
“So, what is the deal, Hammer?” Peschi asked. “Why are you involved in this? I’ve never known you to care about another human being on the face of this earth. It was all about results with you, and human beings be damned. What changed?”
“Who said anything did?” Hammer asked.
“Oh, you can fool some of the people all of the time, but you can never fool me. You’re out in the cold on this woman’s behalf. Which means, rocket science for dummies, that you care for her. Deeply. Which is an amazing turnaround for you.”
Hammer shook his head. “One of my closest friends, and you don’t know me at all.”
“Oh, I know you care for people,” Peschi said. “Your son for instance. Reggie Dell for instance. Even Oz. But this? No. This feels different. You feel different. Why?”
Hammer was beginning to feel a little too exposed. “What are you, a big gossip now?” he asked Peschi.
“Always,” Peschi said with a grin.
“Which means it is time to go,” Hammer said.
“You’re leaving so soon?” Peschi asked.
“Afraid so,” Hammer said.
“And I was just beginning to enjoy you again. My bad.”
Hammer smiled. “Bye asshole.”
“Bye bitch,” Peschi said. Then he looked at Amelia. “He used to be my boss. Can you imagine? That’s why I talk to him so harshly now. Years and years of pent-up aggression that I could never reveal, is now coming out. And I love it! Bye, hon,” he said to Amelia. “Stay sweet, my friend.”
Amelia smiled, and then she and Hammer made it downstairs. Although the chatter continued this time when they arrived back in the belly of the pub, Amelia could see every eye in that establishment squarely on them.
When they made it outside, and as they walked toward Hammer’s SUV, Amelia shook her head. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” she said.
“Bulldog’s son?” Hammer asked.
“Yes. I just don’t believe that’s true. He had plenty of children, but all of his sons are dead. I took over his company when his son Alessio died. There’s no other son that I know of.”
“I’ll get my men on it, that’s for certain.”
“And I’ll get mine on it too,” Amelia said.
But as Hammer opened the door for her, the hairs on the back of his neck began to rise. And he looked around. He didn’t see the shooter, but he saw the gun, and it was a high-powered rifle that had just revealed itself through a window across the street. He shoved Amelia into the car, and jumped on top of her, as the first shot sailed across the street in lightening quickness, and just missed both of them.
Hammer hurried over Amelia to the driver side of his car, cranked up, and as she closed the passenger side door, they sped away.
Hammer’s security detail, which had been in the shadows, came out in force. Four men strong, from various spots around the street. And they began a gun battle with the shooter.
“Are you alright?” Hammer asked urgently as he sped away. He was driving fast, but glancing at Amelia too, as if he needed to see for himself.
“I’m okay,” she said. “I wasn’t hit. You okay?”
“I’m good,” Hammer said. “Buckle up.”
She did, and he did too.
Then he hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. “Gotdammit!” he yelled. His anger was fueled by the fact that Amelia was in danger right along with him.
“We can’t worry about it,” she said. “Just drive!”
“I should have seen that coming,” he said as he drove fast through the streets of Ottawa. “I have you with me. I should have seen that shit coming!” And then, as he said those words, he realized a profound truth.
Amelia noticed the changed look on his face, as if he’d just solved a riddle. “What?” she asked. Then she seemed to realize it too. “The same pattern.”
Hammer nodded. He loved that she got it too! “Yes,” he said.
“That’s how they did me,” Amelia said. “The initial ambush. I get away and think I’m in the clear.”
“And then the big ambush,” Hammer said. “The real one.”
“What are you saying?” Amelia asked. She dared not say it herself.
“We may be driving right into their trap,” he said. “Gotdammit! I’m driving right into their trap!”
And then Hammer flung his gearshift into Reverse, looked behind him, and began speeding backwards down the same road he had just traveled. Amelia looked at the backup camera, to make sure they were not running into an ambush behind them, or other cars, as Hammer drove with mint precision, avoiding wreck after wreck, as he made every attempt to thwart any ambush.
Within minutes they realized their instincts were right. For suddenly, a group of cars appeared out of nowhere in front of the backwards driving car, and attempted to put an end to all progression.
But Hammer was a pro. He’d be damned if they were going to harm Amelia! He’d be damned if they were going to pull that shit on them twice!
He flung the car down the first side road he got to, and then swerved it again until he was no longer driving backwards, but forward, and was now being chased by what Amelia could see as several cars.
“Where?” she asked Hammer.
“Glove compartment,” he said.
And Amelia reached in and pulled out two guns. She checked them both for ammo. They were loaded. Then she looked out the rearview of the SUV and was shocked to see that the posse chasing them appeared to be not two as she had thought, but four cars deep.
“You see what I see?” Hammer asked her.
“That army behind us?” Amelia asked. “I see it.”
“Not just behind us,” Hammer said.
Amelia looked at him, and then looked where he was looking: straight ahead. And to her shock, another small army of cars were racing their way, ready to pin them in. They had skills. Amelia could attest to the fact that both she and Hammer had mad skills. But no two peo
ple could possibly take on what could be upwards to over thirty gunmen, she didn’t care what kind of skills they had. They would be screwed for trying.
And that was when Hammer made a decision and took it. There were no side roads he could take. There were no alleyways or byways. But there were buildings. Some occupied. Others boarded up.
He took one that was boarded up, swerved off the road and across the sidewalk. “Hold on, babe!” he yelled. “Hold on for your life!”
And Amelia held on, bracing herself.
The car tore across the sidewalk at full speed. Hammer aimed, not for the building itself, but for its front doors: the glass. It was their only hope.
“Duck now!” he yelled as he floored his car, ducked too, and crashed through the double doors, shattering the glass. The car went airborne as glass poured around them, but landed on its four wheels.
After the crash, and after the airbags deployed, the car came to a stop in the middle of what used to be a factory. A molten steel factory. But Hammer and Amelia did not delay. Hammer grabbed Amelia’s hand, pulled her out of the car, and then they took off.
Outside of the building, the gunmen were amazed by Hammer’s driving skills, but they were angry that their trap didn’t work. They chased the car up to the building, got out, and ran inside too. And Amelia’s estimation, of upwards of thirty gunmen, was nearly dead on: there were twenty-eight. And all of them ran in, and followed what they thought were sounds upstairs.
Upstairs, Hammer refused to let Amelia’s hand go as they ran across the floor searching for a hiding place, a way out, whatever they could do to survive.
“Hammer,” Amelia whispered, as she jerked him back to her.
He looked at her. She was looking up in the rafters. “We’ve got to go higher, and try it,” she said.
Hammer saw what she was looking at too. “Think you can handle it?”
“I know I can,” Amelia said.
Hammer loved the fact that he had a partner, not a victim, as they hurried to the side wall and he hoisted her up to the ledge that allowed her to climb up to the rafters. They began to hear footsteps running up the stairs as she handed him both guns. She ran across the narrow beams that led to the factory controls. It was a shot in the dark if it was anything, because there were no guarantees that any of it would work, but they had to try. They had no alternatives!
Amelia Sinatra: Hammer Time Page 13