by Sienna Mynx
Marietta hugged his neck and kicked her feet. “But how do we pull this off? We go back to Italy someone is bound to find out. How can we be sure Bellagio is safe? And how do you use the Russians to make it happen?”
“This all stated in the triangle. This all started when Giovanni wanted to go legitimate and use that territory with the Calderones to expand our business. I have the perfect way to negotiate with Gio. He’ll be angry when he can’t find us, but when he figures it out my plan will already be in place. I’m going to turn the Ndrangheta, the Russians and Nigerians on each other. I’m going to take down Giovanni’s enemies and make him believe in me again. He takes the triangle and he owns it all.”
“I don’t know—it sounds risky. We’re back to where we started, Lo. You kissing Giovanni’s ass. After all he’s done. And you have no real power. You can’t turn them on each other.”
“I know how this life works. The Russians want the same thing as the rest of them. Power. Once they bring me in I’m going to hand them, all of them to Interpol.”
“No. No. Lo you can’t.”
“I owe them nothing. My vows aren’t for them.”
“It’s too risky!”
“It’s perfect.”
“It’ll make you an informant. Gio won’t trust you.”
“He won’t have too. There’s a Générale who has been hunting us for years. He could never bring us down. And he’s taking a lot of risks lately to do so. I called him. I made him an offer that frees us. One that the Camorristi would approve of. I’ll be a hero, no more foreigners in our way. The Campania will be ours again.”
Marietta stepped back and chewed on her nail. She tried to process it all. Running back to Italy while Giovanni chases a plane to South America. Playing nice with Russians and Nigerians to give them to International Police. It was a crazy enough idea, that it might work.
“I know what you’re thinking?”
“What am I thinking?” she asked.
“You’re thinking that I’m reaching to high, going to big on this. I’m not. There is one thing in my favor. The truth. Gio is my brother. We have both done things to each other because of the sins of Patri. We can end this and be brothers again. But first I need to prove to him he can trust me. That’s what brings our bambina home. That’s what saves us all. Me and Gio, being brothers again.”
“But that’s the point of your clan. Of the Mafia? You don’t talk to the police. Ever.”
“Omertá is our vow, not theirs. Let them feed on each other.”
Marietta saw the need for approval and redemption in Lorenzo eyes. Life on the run had taken a toll on them both mentally. And at his heart Lorenzo was a good man. He loved his family, every one of them. He missed Giovanni, he missed them all. If she hadn’t shot Giovanni, then maybe the plan could have worked. But in her heart, she had a burning doubt that no brotherhood could restore what was lost between them now.
She didn’t say so. He needed her faith. And she needed to believe in her man. She held his face and kissed his lips. “Okay, caro. Okay. What do you need me to do?”
Lorenzo looked at his watch. “They should be back with the pilot. I’m going to take a few men to the beach. We are going to send some of them to Athens by boat while you and I leave tonight for home. We need to keep our numbers small. Let me make sure everything is set. You pack our things and be ready to go.”
“I can do that. I will do that!”
The strange conversation they shared of defeating Giovanni was forty-five minutes ago. Since he left she’d managed to drag their luggage to the door and empty the refrigerator. The rest of the time she paced from the kitchen to the television room, checking her watch repeatedly. When she returned to her bedroom to do another check for things left behind she heard the first gunshot. What came next was a rapid succession of gunfire. It was so close she felt as if the bullets would enter every window in the room. She dropped to her knees and crawled to the closet.
She couldn’t think of Lorenzo being shot. She couldn’t bear the thought that he was already dead. She had to focus all her energy on one goal. Her own personal survival. She found her bag. The gunfire stopped, and started again. The invaders sounded as if they were outside of the door.
“Please God let it be in here. Please!” she fumbled around the bag with shaky hands. At the bottom of bag, she found the gun. The door to the bedroom kicked open. Marietta rolled to her back and fired. She blew a baseball size hole into the wall and plaster. The gunman dove from the gunfire. She wasn’t sure who the target was. And she didn’t wait for confirmation. She turned and ran for the back door of the beach house and rushed outside of it.
It was as if her body possessed super power strength. Marietta felt so much power in her legs she ran faster than she could ever remember having done so. She half expected to find men waiting for her. There was no one. She ran as fast as she could toward the forest.
“Run sweetheart, run fast, they’re coming for you!” the voice of her mother warned. Or was it her own voice strained by fear? Marietta looked back only once during her escape. She saw several men standing outside of the beach house watching her. None of them fired after her. None of them gave chase. If she had paused to capture one breath she would have realized an escape to the beach was a bad idea. Instead she ran with her all her might. Her entire focus remained singular. Lorenzo. She had to find him. She had to save him.
Who were they?
Did Giovanni send them?
Of course he did, the evil bastard.
They were here to kill them both.
The dark skies made the night almost black with shadows around her. She could smell the rainstorm brewing. She kept stretching her eyes to summon clear vision from the perspiration dripping from her brow as she stumbled over rocks and twigs. She finally caught her breath. With renewed determination she stopped to brace herself and put her hand against a tree. Marietta closed her eyes. It was hard to breathe. She swallowed another dose of fear. She opened her eyes and stretched them wide to make them adjust to the darkness. She saw nothing, but she heard everything. Men shouted at each other. What language were they speaking?
“Lorenzo, where are you? Please tell me you’re on the beach. Please,” she prayed. “Please!”
“Over there!” a man yelled in English. Marietta sprinted back through the descending darkness. She didn’t dare run directly out into the open. She went left in the direction she knew the boats were kept. She knew that part of the beach best. Often, she jogged along the shoreline. That would be her only advantage. It was evident that the invaders outnumbered her husband and his small crew.
Desperate to remain unseen she dropped down into the ravine and waited. She could hear men run past her. As soon as their footfalls faded in distance she turned and ran in the other direction. Keeping to the darkest areas of the forest she was hit and scratched several times by thin branches and thorny leaves. She wanted to give up. She couldn’t. She didn’t.
“Go. Go. Go,” the voice in her head she often thought of as her mother panted with extreme worry. “He’s alive. He’s alive and you have to get to him.”
Marietta turned to her side to see him better. She reached for her husband. He rested on his back and stared up at the ceiling not responding to her touch.
“You’re not sleepy?” she asked.
“No,” he mumbled.
She ran her hand over his chest.
“Me either.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Why what?”
“You worried about something? Why can’t you sleep?” Lorenzo asked.
Marietta tried to decide on what her answer should be. Was she worried? Of course, she was. She’d have to be insane not to question every minute of their borrowed time together. However, anxiety had nothing to do with her inability to sleep.
“It’s Lorenza. Every night after she was born around two in the morning she’d wake. It was her routine. I’d feed her, change her and she’d hold my finger or su
ck her fist until sleep came again. This finger.”
Marietta lifted her index finger and Lorenzo stared at it as if seeing his daughter gripping the single digit. “When she was born Carlo said they put her on my chest. I was in and out of it, so I don’t remember. He said she grabbed my finger. This finger. When she was upset she grabbed my finger. Every day she grabbed it. It’s like she knew she had to hold on.”
“She’s been gone too long. She doesn’t know us or your finger,” Lorenzo mumbled.
“It’s been a few months. Not years. She will know us, love us. Nothing, not even distance can change the bond we have with her.”
Lorenzo turned to his side and touched Marietta’s face. “If they find us, if they come for us and I can’t protect you—”
“Lo, stop being so negative.”
“Listen Marie. If they find us you run, you run and keep running. Head to the beach. Take a boat. Get out into the water, there are enough islands here for someone to rescue you. Just get on water.”
“It’s a stupid plan. I won’t leave you behind.”
“If... I’m no longer with you, then you do whatever Giovanni wants to get our daughter. To be the one to raise her. Don’t let them raise her, Marie. No matter what. She’s ours. And she needs you, just as you needed your mother. Promise.”
“I swear it, Lorenzo. I swear on my life, I’ll never let her go.” she hugged him.
The landscape stretched with forest for a mile before it began to thin to the beach. She slowed down and avoided running out of cover. With her hands to her knees she dragged in deep gulps of sea air. And she listened. It took more than a few minutes before she heard it. Cars. The soft rumble of the engines of cars they owned. She’d know that sound anywhere. The noise rumbled louder. A jeep, her jeep was driving on the beach. Marietta fell back. She raised the gun and tried to steady her grip. The jeep stopped. If it were her men, they would call her name. If it were Lorenzo he’d be shouting for her. She strained to see past the glare of the headlights.
Men got out of the jeep. Doors closed. One of the men was forced to walk. He had his hands cuffed behind his back. A bigger and meaner man kicked his captive back legs. The victim fell to the front of the jeep face first.
She knew who that man was immediately. It was Lorenzo.
“Marietta Battaglia! We have your husband. Come out and join him.”
The thick accent was undeniably Russian. She didn’t recognize the man but she’d met Russians in the criminal world back in America when she was a dancer. She and Shae often talked about how horrible they were to women. She knew the threat was real. He stood really close to Lorenzo.
“On the count of three!” The tall brawny man raised a gun to Lorenzo’s head. She aimed her gun at the giant. She was no markswoman. She could easily hit Lorenzo instead of her target.
“Three!” the man said skipping one and two.
“Noooo!” she screamed.
“No! Don’t kill him!” She ran out of her cover. The man lowered his gun.
“Don’t kill him,” she pleaded.
The sand slowed her down. Each step was a struggle. She fell a few feet from him and crawled the rest of the way. Lorenzo face looked as if he’d been beaten with a hammer. He was bloody, and both of his eyes were swollen shut. But one of them looked more damaged than the other.
“You are fucking animals!” she wept and hugged her husband. “Don’t you hurt him anymore!”
“Oh, we were just having fun.” The Russian laughed.
Marietta looked up into the man’s cruel grey eyes. “Who are you?”
“Friends of your Camorra Don.”
“He doesn’t have Russians for friends,” she spat at him.
“You should hope he does. He’s been looking forward to seeing you again. It’s the only reason you’re still alive.”
The other men were delivered to the shore. The last three surviving men from their crew were separated from her and Lorenzo. Then the Russians came for them.
“Lo, we, have to run. Lo!” She tried to pull him up. She hadn’t realized that her husband was unconscious until she let him go. He slumped over in the sand. And then hands were on her. She fought her captors. One of the men picked up the gun she dropped. The other fought with her. And she fought him with everything in her. When he slung her off him she went to the sand on her knees and hands. He then snatched her up by her hair. Marietta swung her arms and tried to land a good shot. The men all laughed. She was put into a firm embrace where her arms were locked at her sides.
“Let me go!” she pleaded.
“I was told to treat you like a lady,” the man snarled who had three long scratches on his cheek thanks to her. “But if you act like a hellcat I’ll leash you like one,” he said. “Do you understand!”
She coughed out her reply. He let her go. And pushed her forward. Marietta struggled but managed to remain standing. She looked up to see the men dragging her husband across the beach sand. The Russian who handled her smiled. “Ladies first—”
She clenched her fist in a small attempt at resistance, but she obeyed.
IT HAD BEEN RAINING a lot for the time of the year. Carlo had to spend the first night in Sorrento. And after a day of handling business he was finally able to escape and drive to Naples. He wanted to see her and his baby boy before sunset. The rain made him cautious on the cliffside roads. It was because of his caution he paid more attention to the drivers accompanying him. For three miles he noticed one driver. A red Peugeot. The car would come in close and then slip behind. It often maintained speed. That would not be suspicious, but Carlo was certain he’d seen the car before in Naples, and in Sorrento at different times. It had to be the same vehicle.
To test his theory, he decided to delay his return home and take the next exit. The red Peugeot followed. He narrowed his eyes on the rearview mirror and tried to see the face of the driver behind the wheel. Whoever it was wore a cap on their head and glasses to their face. He was almost certain the person was a male. But by the stature and appearance they were either young adult or female.
“Questo stronzo figlio di puttana! Okay, motherfucker. You want to play?” Carlo turned off to a narrow street. The driver kept up the pursuit.
“That’s right. Follow me.”
Carlo shifted gear into fourth and floored it. Before the car behind him could anticipate his moves, he made a hard turn right. The car tailing him shot by. Carlo threw the gearshift into reverse and swerved out of the alley back onto the road. It was now his turn to be the cat chasing the mouse. He sped along the narrow winding cobblestone roads with buildings squeezed in on both sides. He caught up with the car in a matter of seconds. He slammed into the back of the driver and caused him to swerve left and correct his error. Carlo slammed into the back of the car. This time he hit it so hard the fender connected with the bumper. The red Peugeot smashed into sidewalk tables and chairs. The driver recovered and sped ahead tearing itself free.
Carlo grinned. “Yes, baby, let’s play.”
He floored it and rammed the driver from behind again and again. The car lurched forward and made a hard turn left. When Carlo turned to follow a vespa shot in front of him and he nearly killed the motorist. Carl swerved and ran into mail post instead.
“Testa di cazzo!” he yelled and punched his steering wheel. He got out of his car. A crowd started to form but all of them were concerned for the motorist who was trying to stand up his bike. Carlo stepped into the road with his gun. Several people fled at the sight of it. He blasted off a few shots to his escaping prey. A few dinged the bumper that was being dragged along the streets, but none hit the car. The bastard was gone.
Houston, Texas
“The court calls of the Commonwealth against Jilly Ann Compton. Is the defendant present?”
“Yes, your honor,” said the attorney assigned to Jilly by the State.
“Let the record show that the defendant, Jilly Ann Compton is present and represented by her attorney, Gloria Peters. Is
the guardian or parent present?”
“I am here your honor?” Shae answered. She raised her hand. She sat behind Jilly. The young girl looked frightened, but Shae gave her an encouraging smile when Jilly looked back at her.
“And you are?”
Shae stood. “I’m Shannon Dennis. I was awarded temporary guardianship. I’m one of the founders of New Beginnings. Jilly has been my ward for almost a year.”
“Thank you, Ms. Dennis. You may have a seat. Proceed.”
“Ah, your honor—” Shae tried to speak again.
“That will be all, Ms. Dennis. Reserve your comment for later.”
“Thank you,” Shae said and sat down.
“Ms. Peters?” the judge said.
“Your honor the defendant does not dispute the Commonwealth’s submission of facts. However, the commonwealth has not proven that my client had any prior knowledge to what was placed in her book bag. We concede she is the principal owner of the bag but the items found were not in her possession during discovery.”
“Your honor,” the prosecutor interjected. “We have already heard testimony from the young woman’s gang that she was the carrier. The defendant understood her bag was being used to transport the narcotics and was one of the many participants handling the bag.”
Jilly’s lawyer interjected. “The Commonwealth must prove that my client did something to assist her friends by some actual act to share in the criminal intent. There is only witness testimony which even the prosecutor has had change on them more than once. So, I ask again that this case be dismissed and my client cleared of all charges.”
“That will be all. I’ve heard enough testimony and speeches. Do either of you counselors have anything new to submit? Before I make my ruling?”
“Your honor. I’d like to give Jilly’s guardian, Shannon Dennis the opportunity to testify. She had a baby earlier during our proceedings and was unable to.”
The judge nodded.
Shannon eased out of her bench seat. She walked over to the podium and microphone that was located to the left of the judge.
The judge addressed her directly. “Ma’am, do you swear to the tell the truth under penalty of law?”