Of Kings And Pawns
Page 9
“Lion, what are you getting at? We all live a great, ideal life working for you.”
“Yes, you do, and I'm not here to say otherwise. But, Carmine, you are also living a dangerous life. You've seen the wars, the bloodshed, and the carnage that comes with this lifestyle. We drive around in fancy cars, with bodyguards. We wear expensive clothes. We are kings and the rest of this town is just pawns on our chess board. But, there's a price to living this lifestyle. What if I could offer you all the riches to live this lifestyle, with none of the consequences or dangers?”
Carmine took another drag of his cigarette as he processed Martin’s declaration. “You know, Kats is a very fine lady. She does treat me right. We talked about getting married and having a family. I always thought it could be done, living this lifestyle.”
“You’re mistaken, Carmine. It's impossible to do that. There are too many sacrifices, too much uncertainty. You could be gone tomorrow. Blown away by some upstart punk, trying to make a name for himself; or caught by the Feds because some schmuck gets caught doing something he ain't supposed to, then flipping on you when he gets questioned.”
Carmine had driven around the block at this point and pulled back in front of the Crimson Tiger. Martin lit another cigarette and exhaled as he brought his hand up to his head to rest it on. He stared out of the window. “I envisioned you Toma and Daichi living a more peaceful life beyond this one. I'm offering that to you if you want to help me.”
“Okay, boss. I'll help you. What do you want me to do?”
“Come and meet me tonight at the warehouse. I can explain.” One of Lion’s bodyguards came to the passenger door of Carmine’s car and opened it for him. “Tonight around eight o’clock, Carmine. Come and see me tonight.”
***
That night, Puma pulled his car up to Martin's house. In the backyard of the home was the warehouse, the pack’s quiet and secluded meeting place where they sometimes held meetings regarding the organization. The gated community that he lived in was home to the richest, most glamorous celebrities and business tycoons in the southwestern United States. No one from the organization was allowed to come to the boss’s house—only members of the pack.
Carmine pulled up under the large porte-cochère that stood at the front of Martin's home. One of the bodyguards walked up to the passenger window. “Good evening, Mr. Lazzero. Lion is expecting you. You can leave your vehicle; we'll go and park it for you.”
He gave the bodyguard a nod and exited the vehicle. The Nevada air was a bit nippy; he could see his breath every time he exhaled. The front of Martin’s home was breathtaking. There were majestic, white marble columns that held up the porte-cochère and the stairs leading up to the front door. With each step he couldn’t help but think, I don’t know what lifestyle Martin’s talking about, but this is the lifestyle I want to live.
He walked through the gigantic wooden double doors that led to Martin’s foyer. The enormous grand entrance had double staircases that hugged the walls. Its brass handles ran down the side of the wall toward the center of the room, which contained a large, black marble statue of a lion roaring while its mane flew in the wind. The walls of the home featured works of art and pictures of famous people that Martin had met throughout his years of running casinos in Vegas.
Carmine was always envious of Martin’s home as he walked through the foyer. He looked up and was amazed by the grand chandelier, covered in gold, that hung above the lion sculpture. He walked past the foyer and toward the door that lead to the backyard. From the window he could see a lot of movement near the warehouse and a helicopter parked next to it. “What’s going on?” he asked himself.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Martin replied from behind him, causing him to jump in excitement. “Come,” he continued, opening the door leading to the backyard. “There’s something I need to show you.”
The walk to the warehouse felt longer than normal. A flurry of activity was going on outside. Men were busily prepping the helicopter for a flight. “We going somewhere?” Carmine asked Martin as they neared the staging area.
“I’m not going anywhere, Puma. But you are,” he answered, his tone haunting as it rolled off his tongue.
A chill ran up the underboss’s back. Something is wrong; out of place. He doesn’t normally speak like this, in such secrecy. He was transparent when it came to business matters, but since earlier today he hasn’t been. Something must be weighing on his mind, but what? I didn’t do anything wrong…I think. Carmine tried to appear stoic as he walked. I can’t let them see me as weak. I have to appear confident.
“Mr. Cone, thank you for meeting me here and assisting me this evening,” Martin said to a man standing next to the helicopter. “This is Puma. He is the man you’ll be taking tonight.”
Carmine stepped forward and shook Mr. Cone’s hand, greeting him with a slight smile and a nod of the head.
“He and I have some things to discuss, and then you can be on your way,” the Lazzero patriarch continued as he placed his hand on Carmine’s back and guided him to the warehouse.
Where is he taking me? he thought, anxiety starting to set in. Is Martin planning something sinister toward me? I didn’t do anything wrong that I can think of. This better have nothing to do with me skipping the grand opening. Toma wouldn’t have felt disrespected from me not being there, would he?
“No worries, Carmine,” Martin said. “All will be made clear soon enough. You need to relax; I can feel the tension building in you.” With a flick of his hand, his men ran over and began pushing the hangar doors apart, exposing the inside of the warehouse.
“What the…,” Puma began, as he looked upon a giant metal container that rested in the middle of the hangar floor. There were two men welding, what appeared to be a submarine hatch, on top of the container.
“Marvelous, isn’t it?” Martin began, as he and his pupil both gazed at the giant metal structure that lay before them. “This is my gift to all of you. You are all like sons to me. I present to you the key to your freedom.”
“What’s that for, boss?” he finally mustered, staring in disbelief and confusion.
“That, my boy, will be placed underground and filled with money—your money to be exact. I have one each for you, Toma, and Anthony. Toma requested I make one for Daichi also, but that remains to be seen. He has high hopes for his pupil, but he hasn’t done anything yet that would contribute to me making him a safe.” Martin turned toward Carmine and grabbed both of his arms. “This is your ticket out of here, Puma. This is my gift to you all. The man outside is the pilot for the helicopter. He will fly you to the location of one of the safes. The inside of the helicopter is filled with money that I want you to place on wooden pallets found inside. After you stack the money, secure it in place with the plastic wrap to ensure it doesn’t fall off. Because of the amount of money you’ll be handling, you’re going to have to do separate trips for each person’s safe. The weight of the money and the distance between each safe will be too much for the helicopter to handle.”
Martin then placed his arm around Carmine’s back and began walking toward the entrance to the warehouse. “You can’t tell anyone else about this,” he whispered. “Not even Kat, understand?”
Carmine continued to stare down in disbelief as he tried to comprehend what Lion had just told him. How much money is being put in these safes? he thought.
“Carmine, do you understand?” Martin repeated, his tone becoming more stern and direct.
“Yes, sir, no one will ever know about the safes. It will remain between me and you.”
“One more thing, Carmine. You will know what’s in the safe, but you will not know where it is. The only people who will know the location of the safe are me and the pilot. After tonight, please ensure that I’m the only one who knows the location of this safe.” A devious smile crossed his face. “You understand what I’m asking you to do, Puma?”
“Yes, sir,” he replied, as he turned and began walking toward t
he helicopter.
“You ready to go?” Mr. Cone asked, waiting outside his helicopter with an extra helmet resting in his hand.
“Let’s get this show on the road,” Carmine replied, grabbing the helmet and jumping into the passenger seat.
The blades of the helicopter slowly began spinning, and soon it took off. Carmine and Mr. Cone, who unknowingly was flying for the last time, flew off into the night to a location he would take with him to the grave. Martin watched as the helicopter flew by. He grabbed a cigar from his jacket and lit it. He smiled with delight. All the pieces of the puzzle are falling into place.
The ride to the safe was a nerve-racking one for Carmine. He had no idea where he was going, how long it would take him to get there, who would be there, and what would happen after. All that stood in his mind were the haunting orders Lion gave him before he left. “After tonight, please ensure that I’m the only one who knows the location of the safe.” The thought of those words sent a shiver up his arms and body. He couldn’t help but think; what if the pilot was given the same orders. What if he decides to kill me once we land and take off with the money? He kept his hand over his jacket pocket, where Big Bertha lay, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
“We’re here,” Mr. Cone finally said, breaking the silence in the cockpit.
The two gazed down to what appeared to be a ranch or farm. A two-storied house and a barn sat on the property. It appeared to be an abandoned home; there were no lights on in the house and no cars present on the grounds.
“So where are we supposed to go?”
“I believe Mr. Lazzero said it’s located in there,” Mr. Cone replied, pointing to the barn. “I’ll help you. The sooner we get this done the better.”
The money for the safe was packed in military duffle bags and stacked nicely in the cabin of the helicopter. There were sixteen duffle bags total that the two men carried to the front door of the barn. When they were done unloading the bags, Carmine turned on the light to the barn. In the middle of the barn was a gigantic hole. “Amazing,” he whispered as the two men entered the barn and looked down to see the hatch that led to the underground safe. “Well, let’s get going.”
Moving the duffle bags down the hole into the safe without dropping or damaging the bags and money was the hardest part of their entire mission. Eventually, the two men completed the task. “Let’s get out of here,” Mr. Cone said as they both climbed out of the hole. “This place is starting to give me the heebie-jeebies.”
Carmine and Mr. Cone entered the helicopter and began their flight back to Martin’s. Carmine started to feel at ease. This man has no intentions of betraying me. He’s so scared; he just wants to get away from here. The flight back felt a lot faster, the weight of all the bags as well as the anxiety Carmine felt were both lifted.
When they returned to the warehouse, all the lights were out at Lion’s estate. There were still lights on at the warehouse. Probably the workers completing those safes, Carmine thought. As they touched down on the ground, he could see a black car parked to the side of the warehouse. Three men stood outside the car, waiting. They’re there to make sure I do the job and to take Mr. Cone, he thought as he exited the helicopter.
“Well, Carmine, that was fun. Let’s do it again sometime,” Mr. Cone began, extending his hand out to Carmine to shake.
Puma pulled Mr. Cone toward him to give him a half hug. “Sorry, Mr. Cone, but this will be the last time we do this.” He drew Big Bertha from his pocket and emptied five shots into the unsuspecting pilot’s stomach. Mr. Cone gasped in shock and pulled away from Carmine. He stared at him, disbelief in his eyes as he tried gasping for air, to no avail. He reached out to grab onto something but fell on his back. The last image Mr. Cone would see was of Carmine Lazzero standing over him, gun in hand.
***
Albert abruptly woke up from his nap. He could still remember the look on Mr. Cone’s face as he took his last breaths. He remembered the black car coming around and grabbing the dead pilot to dispose of him. He didn’t even know where they took him. He did four more missions like that, but he would never forget Mr. Cone.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he looked up toward the sky, hoping the spirits of those he killed would offer him clemency for his evil deeds. He looked back down. All of this that’s happened was all for a reason. It served a purpose, he thought. He looked back up to the skies. “Without your sacrifices, I wouldn’t be in position to give my son the best life I possibly can.”
“John,” he called out from the foyer, “I’m home.” No reply came. Hmmm must be out playing. Well, no matter. I’ll go and change into some clothes and head back down to the barn. I’m almost done with counting and sorting out the rest of the money. He began walking up his stairs toward his room. When he reached the door he noticed that it was left ajar. “No,” he whispered, feeling his stomach drop.
Albert quickly pushed the door open to his room; nothing seemed out of place. He looked at his dressers and under his bed. Everything remained in the right place. Then it dawned on him. He looked toward the closet and slowly walked over to the door. He opened it and inspected the inside of his closet. Everything appeared to be in order as he gazed around. Then, in the corner of his eye he saw it. His box wasn’t placed back correctly. John had discovered his box. John now knows the truth. “No,” he whispered again.
Chapter 9
Daylight broke into the tranquil New Mexico motel that housed the three pack members of the Lazzero crime organization. They had successfully found one of the five safes and were closing in on another one. We have to find this one soon, Toma thought. Anthony’s arrogance is starting to weigh on my patience. He’s good in small doses, but when you get stuck with him for months on end and see him all day long, it can be tiresome. Every once in a while the pack would return to Las Vegas. It allowed him to regather himself, so he could tolerate the nearsightedness of the current underboss once again when they went out looking for the next safe.
If it weren’t for Daichi to help calm my nerves, it would only be me searching for these safes, and he would be six feet under with those safes. Toma was in the shower finishing up his morning shave when he heard Daichi calling from the other room. “Toma, it’s Mr. Griggs. He has an urgent message from Martin.”
Toma dried off the rest of his face and then stepped out from the bathroom. He grabbed the phone from Jaguar. “Hello, Mr. Griggs. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Good morning, Tiger. Martin has requested your and the rest of the pack’s immediate attention. He requested that you stop what you’re doing and come and see him right away. A plane has been sent to the nearest airport in your location, and he wishes to speak with you by the midday.”
“What’s this about, Mr. Griggs, if I may ask?”
“I’m unsure on what Mr. Lazzero would like to speak to you all about, but he reinforces that this matter is of utmost importance and should be moved to number one on your list of priorities.”
“Thank you for the message, Mr. Griggs. We will be sure to be at the airport and on that plane within the hour.” Toma placed the room phone back on its base. “We need to return back to Martin. He requests to speak with us immediately,” Toma declared to the rest of the pack sitting in the room.
“For what?” Anthony asked in an annoyed tone. “We are right here; I can feel it. Let’s go and find this safe, take the money, then go and see what Martin wants.” The overzealous underboss stood up from his chair. “Come on, Daichi. Let’s go and get this safe.”
“No,” Toma replied sternly, causing his bodyguard to sit abruptly down. “We have orders from our superior, and we will follow them. If Martin requests an audience with us, then we will abide to his wishes.”
“Why?” Anthony asked, as he took a step toward Toma and puffed his chest out, challenging his fellow pack member. “Why should we go? Because you say we should? You are not above me, so why should I bow down and follow your orders? You are, and have always been
Martin’s pet, following his every whim. The old man is long in the tooth. He is no longer fit to run the organization. You told me he has papers compiled everywhere because he forgets things. Does that sound like a leader to you? Does it sound like someone who is in charge? I should take my rightful place as head—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Toma flew across the room and gave him an uppercut, right into his gut, knocking the wind out of the underboss. Anthony fell to one knee, holding his stomach as he gasped for air. “Silence yourself, you filthy worm,” his consigliere whispered. He bent down to the hunched-over Anthony, so only he could hear him. “The first thing Martin has taught us all is that we are a family. We protect one another, and we have respect, honor, and integrity in an otherwise undignified world. Don’t you dare talk about our boss, your uncle, in that way. I should kill you myself.” Toma reached around his body and drew a small blade that was sheathed behind his back.
He placed the blade right next to Anthony’s neck. “Martin also taught Daichi and me to embrace our heritage even though we were raised in a Sicilian home. This is a Tanto sword; it’s a small sword from Japan. It was a gift that Martin gave me years ago. I’ve used it here and there. Nothing beats placing a bullet into someone. It’s quick; it’s simple. But, using this blade to end your life would be very satisfying.”
Anthony slowly and cautiously raised his head up toward Toma, “Go ahead. Do it. You’re killing a made man, Tiger. You know what will happen if you kill me, so these next few seconds while you think of what you’re going to do, tread lightly.” He gave Toma a confident and cocky smirk and stood up, waiting for his next move.
He’s right, I can’t kill him. Not this way. Toma slowly lowered the black braided sword to his side and glared intensely back at Anthony. “We’re going to see Martin, now,” he ordered as he looked over at Daichi.
In that instance, when Toma left his guard down for a second, Anthony rushed across the room and caught him flush in his jaw with a right hook, dropping him to the ground along with his blade. Anthony then straddled the sprawled-out Toma and began swinging his fists at him. Toma raised both his hands up to guard his head from the flurry of punches Leopard’s heavy, hammer-like fists were delivering.