Danny said, “You have a brother?”
“I used to,” Frankie said.
Nicky's dad shifted on the floor and looked at Tommy. “Is this the guy who got you into this?”
“Not really,” Nicky said. “I kind of got myself into it.”
His father looked at them, then around the warehouse, and said, “Well, we're all in it now. These guys are very serious. Tell me what you know about them. Quietly.”
When they were done, Nicky's father said, “Okay. It sounds like they're waiting for something to happen. Do you know what it is?”
“There's a delivery coming in the morning,” Tommy said. “I heard them talking about it before they caught Nicky ….”
A cell phone rang. Nicky's father said, “Damn! That's my phone. I can't get it with my hands tied.”
“I can,” Nicky said. He slipped his hand into his father's jacket pocket, pulled the phone out and flipped it open. The ringing stopped. Several minutes later it started again.
The yellow-skinned man came out the office door, shining a flashlight across the floor in front of him. Nicky dropped the phone and stuck his hands behind his back.
“What was that sound?” the yellow-skinned man asked.
“It was from outside,” Nicky's father said. “There must be a church near here.”
“There's no church near here,” the man rasped. “It's all warehouses.”
“There's gotta be a church near here. There's a church near everywhere,” Nicky's father answered.
The yellow-skinned man moved forward and pointed the flashlight at Nicky's father's face. “There isn't no church around here, damn it!”
“I bet you're wrong,” Nicky's father said—loudly. “We're by the corner of Twentieth Avenue and Bay view, behind Jerry's Fish, right? In Bensonhurst? I bet there's a church at both ends of this block. And I don't care if you guys do have guns.”
“Shut up, you!” the yellow-skinned man said, and smacked Nicky's father across the face with the flashlight. Nicky's father fell over sideways.
Nicky screamed, “Leave him alone, you coward! Pick on someone—”
“Keep talking, you midget,” the yellow-skinned man whispered. “In a couple of hours you'll be talking to the angels.”
He went back across the warehouse and pulled the office door closed behind him.
Nicky put the phone in his pocket and took his father's face in his hands. “Dad! Are you all right?”
His lip was bleeding, but he smiled. “I'm all right, especially if the person calling on that cell phone heard the stuff about the churches.”
Clarence said, “Mr. Borelli! You were doing all that on purpose!”
“What do you think, I was just taunting the guy so he'd hit me?” Nicky's father grinned.
Three minutes later, the phone rang again. This time the yellow-skinned man came out at once.
“Now I get it,” he said. “Church bells! Very cute. Who's got it?”
He found the phone in Nicky's pocket.
“Very cute,” he said again, and stuck the phone in his pocket. “Church bells! Don't make me come back out here.”
In the panel truck, Frankie put Nicky's cell phone back in his pocket. He said, “My brother is a genius, and I know where he is. It's Jerry's Fish—Dominick Pavese's place—on Twentieth. But he's not alone, and the people he's with are not going to like being interrupted. Let's move in slow.”
It was a long night. The concrete warehouse floor was cold and uncomfortable. Tommy and Clarence fell asleep. Nicky and his father sat with their backs to each other—his father watching the office door while Nicky worked at untying his father's ropes.
“That was some trick with the phone,” Nicky said.
“Lucky shot,” his father said. “It would help if I knew who was calling.”
“Could it have been Mom?”
“Not likely,” his father said. “But it might've been my assistant. He's very sharp. Worked in the district attorney's office. He'd figure out where we are.”
“I tried calling Uncle Frankie, on his cell phone, but I couldn't reach him.”
“He probably can't carry a cell phone, in his line of work.”
“So, you know all about that, huh?”
“About Frankie?” His father turned and looked at him. “Of course I know. And I hate it. It's unfair to my mother, to put her through that kind of stress. It's terrible.”
Nicky thought of his grandma Tutti, at home, alone, not feeling well, one son on the run from the police after a botched robbery, the other son and her grandson being held captive and almost certain to be killed at dawn.
Holding back his tears, Nicky said, “I think I almost have your rope undone.”
“Good boy,” his father said. “Maybe I can get Clarence freed up.”
“And then what?”
“No idea,” his father said. “First let's get the rope off.”
It was another hour before Nicky got the rope untied. His father pulled his hands free and sat rubbing his wrists. He shook Clarence awake and said, “Turn around. I'm going to get the knots undone, and we're going to get out of here.”
Tommy woke up, too. He said, “I had a dream. I think I have a plan.”
Nicky and his father turned to him. Nicky's father said, “Is that so?”
“It's from BlackPlanet,” Tommy said. “Nicky, you know in level six, there's that alien city where you have to use the photon blasters to knock out the force shields?”
“Yeah?”
“I found a mistake in that level. If you unload everything on the first force shield, the other three collapse and you can zip right out. Same thing here, right?”
Nicky's father said, “I think we need a real plan.”
“This is a real plan,” Tommy said. “They got one door going in and out. They can't watch us and watch the door at the same time, right? So if we unload everything we got on the door—boom! One of us will get out and get the cops.”
“Unload everything we got?” Nicky's father said. “We don't ‘got’ anything.”
“I bet there's all kinds of stuff in here,” Nicky said. “All we need to do is make a diversion, right? We can find something to do that with. Let's look around.”
“Okay,” his father said. “But quietly.”
Nicky went off into the dark warehouse on his hands and knees. He came across something that felt like an old tennis shoe. In a far corner, he found a water spigot, and a plastic bucket. He found a piece of metal that felt like part of a tire jack. He took that back to the others.
“There's a faucet and a bucket in that corner,” he told his father. “Plus I found this metal thing.”
Nicky's dad hefted the metal bar. “It's a lug wrench. That could come in handy.”
A few seconds later Tommy came crawling from the opposite direction. He said, “I found a piece of pipe, and a stickball bat.”
He handed them over. Nicky's father picked up the pipe. Then he said, “Nicky, fill that bucket up with water and bring it back. Carefully. Don't spill any of it on the floor. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Tommy? You're going to take the lug wrench over to that big sliding door and see if you can pry it open. Check it out and come back. Okay?”
Tommy said, “Okay. But what if—”
“Shhh,” Nicky's father said. “Don't talk. Nicky, go.”
Nicky went across the pitch-black warehouse, creeping along until he found the water spigot. The faucet opened like Niagara Falls, the sound roaring through the empty warehouse. Nicky turned it off at once and held his breath. Then there was silence. He started again, slowly. When the bucket was full, he crept back across the floor.
Tommy came back just then, too. He said, “I can get the door open, but it's going to be loud.”
“That's okay,” Nicky's father said. “By the time we're moving, it won't matter.”
Frankie and his partner stood behind Jerry's Fish. Frankie noted the heavy sliding doors, the tra
nsom windows above, the low roof.
He said to Danny, “Any ideas?”
“Smash in through the windows?”
“I don't like it,” Frankie said. “There's at least two guys in there, and they've got guns, and hostages.”
“So what's the alternative?”
“Let's see if we can get in from the roof.” A ladder at the end of the building led them to the rooftop. Searching in the dim light, they found a skylight, held down by a padlock.
“You got a bolt cutter?”
“Yeah,” Danny said.
Frankie broke the lock and tested the skylight. It opened freely.
They both drew their weapons. Frankie peered in through the skylight, pistol poised to fire.
“It's clear,” he said. “Put on your ears.”
Frankie and Danny reached into their bags and pulled out headsets. Frankie clicked his on and said, “Can you hear me now?”
“Very funny,” Danny said, adjusting his own headset. “I hear you fine.”
“Good. Then let's go. Radio silence for the first few minutes. Call me when you get ready.”
Danny looped a rope around his chest and knotted it, then gave the other end to Frankie, who held the rope tight as Danny dropped himself through the skylight. Frankie felt the line go loose when Danny hit the floor.
When they were ready, Nicky's father said, “Here's the plan. We're going over by the office door. Tommy's going to be on the sliding door with the lug wrench. I've got the pipe. Clarence has the stickball bat. Nicky, you're going to yank open that office door and yell something, then close the door and wait. Tommy's going to lever the sliding door open. Nicky, you're going to pour that bucket of water on the floor. When it's wet, it's going to be as slick as ice. The two guys will come tearing out here. They'll hit the wet floor and wham! They go down, and Clarence and I smack 'em.”
“It's an awesome plan,” Tommy said.
“It's a Three Stooges plan,” Nicky's father said. “But it could work. The whole thing depends on timing. And silence. Let's go.”
Nicky's father showed them their positions. Tommy went down to the door and wedged the end of the lug wrench into it. Clarence stood facing the office door with the stickball bat. Nicky's father stood with the piece of pipe. Nicky held the bucket of water. Nicky's father held his hand up: Wait.
They waited.
Ten minutes later, Frankie was in the alley, staring up at a pair of transom windows. He clicked on his headset and said, “Talk to me, Danny.”
The headset crackled. Then: “I'm here. I see an office with two guys in it.”
“And the others?”
“I can't see them.”
“Keep looking,” Frankie said. “They could be inside the refrigerators. They could be meat by now.” Frankie shuddered. “Forget I said that. I'm going to try the door. Maybe we can get them in a crossfire.”
“Got it.”
Frankie walked to the sliding door. He pushed, and it made a creaking noise. He tested again. More noise. He said, “So much for the surprise attack.”
Then he heard something. Was it coming from inside? He put his ear to the door. Nothing. He turned and looked down the alley.
There it was—a low rumbling, coming from somewhere in the neighborhood. It sounded like a truck engine. Frankie stared at the end of the alley. Headlights. Getting brighter. Turning toward the alley.
Frankie dropped his gym bag onto the pavement and said into the headset, “Yo, Danny! We got company! I'm going with the grenade now—on three. Copy?”
Danny's voice crackled. “Copy.”
Frankie pulled a percussion grenade out of his gym bag and placed his hand on the sliding door. He said into the radio, “One-two-THREE!”
On “three,” Frankie shoved the sliding door open, jumped inside and threw the percussion grenade toward the lighted office. He dove onto the floor as the grenade went BOOM/ and exploded daylight across the darkened warehouse.
Nicky jerked as if he'd been electrocuted, and covered his eyes. His father said, “Get down!” Nicky dropped his bucket and spilled two gallons of water onto the floor.
He heard the office door swing open. The yellow-skinned man said, “Hey!” and Nicky heard him slip and hit the floor. There was the crunch of a pipe, then the crack of a bat. The door flew open again. Nicky saw the silhouette of Dominick slip and fall hard. Then he heard his father's grunt, and another crack of the bat.
The warehouse lights came on. A voice screamed, “Freeze! Nobody moves!”
Nicky's father, lying on the floor and clutching his leg, said, “Frankie?”
“Get down, Nicky! Stay down!” Then Frankie shouted into his headset, “Danny! Get me some backup!”
In the alley, two car doors slammed.
Dominick got to his feet and shouted, “Jimmy! Mackie! We got trouble!” He kicked Clarence, who was lying on the floor, and turned toward the empty warehouse.
Nicky saw his shot. He grabbed the stickball bat from the floor, swung hard and connected with the back of Dominick's right leg. The big man crumpled, moaning.
A second later, a man holding two automatic pistols stepped out of the shadows. He said, “Nice shot, kid,” quietly, then shouted, “Yo, Frankie! On your back! Everybody down nowl”
The man with the pistols began firing past Frankie, at the sliding door. Nicky hit the floor. He saw Frankie drop to his knees and spin and begin firing. Nicky pressed his face into the concrete. Bullets flew over his head and ricocheted off the block concrete walls behind him. Then he heard something else—a thunk-thunk—and turned to see the man with the two pistols fall over. There was more gunfire. The roar was deafening.
Then it was silent.
Frankie shouted, “I'm going after 'em, Danny. Get the backup!”
Danny didn't answer. Frankie didn't wait. He ran for the sliding door screaming into his headset, “Code Four! Code Four! Man down!”
The yellow-skinned man jumped to his feet and began running for the door, too. Tommy leapt up and dashed after him. Just as the man got to the sliding door, Tommy dove and tackled him from behind. Nicky heard the man's head smack the floor like a ripe melon.
Frankie dashed into the alley. The piercing wail of police sirens sliced through the night. Headlights lit both ends of the alley, silhouetting the forms of two men running toward Bayview.
Frankie shouted, “Freeze! Police! Freeze!”
The two men came to a sudden halt and raised their hands over their heads as a dozen police officers stepped from behind the police car headlights, their weapons poised and ready.
Inside, Nicky looked across the warehouse. His father held the pipe over the moaning Dominick. Clarence, with blood on his forehead, was sitting on top of the yellow-skinned man. Nicky said, “Is that the police?”
“Yeah,” his dad said, and smiled. “And just in time, too.”
“But, what about Frankie?”
His dad said, “He's okay.”
“Isn't he going to get into trouble?”
“Maybe so. He should've called for backup earlier.”
Nicky was confused. He said, “Who should've called for backup?”
“Frankie should've. Or his partner. Even for an undercover detective, that's standard police procedure.”
Nicky was even more confused. “Detective? Uncle Frankie is the police ?”
“Of course he's the police!” his father said. “What'd you think he was?”
“I thought he was a gangster.”
Hours later, Nicky and his grandmother and his father and his uncle sat in Grandma Tutti's kitchen. The two men had coffee mugs. Nicky had a glass of milk. The table was strewn with the remnants of a big breakfast.
Nicky had told everyone everything and had apologized for causing so much trouble. Nicky's grandmother had told her two sons all about her visit to the hospital and how Nicky was her hero. Nicky's father had told his brother about showing up at Jerry's Fish and getting hit in the leg while trying to overpower
Dominick Pavese.
Frankie started laughing. “Now I see the family resemblance, with the two of you,” he said. “Big Nicky goes boom on the one guy's leg, and Nicky Deuce goes boom on the other guy's leg. Like father, like son. You took 'em both out.”
“With Clarence and Tommy for backup,” Nicky's father said. “Some team!”
“Where did Clarence go, anyway?” Frankie asked.
“I sent him over to the hospital with your partner, to get that cut on his forehead examined.”
Nicky said, “Is Danny going to be okay?”
“The Kevlar stopped four rounds,” Frankie said. “The fifth one grazed his shoulder. It's a parking ticket. They'll send him home tonight.”
“He's lucky. We're all lucky!” Nicky's father said. “When that flash grenade went off, I thought we were all dead guys.”
Nicky said, “Me too. I was scared. When I heard the siren, I thought the police were coming for you. I thought maybe you were part of Dominick's gang.”
“What's that all about?” Frankie said. “What's with this idea that I was some kind of mob boss?”
“I don't know,” Nicky said. “You talk like the people in The Godfather, and The Sopranos. Plus there's all your friends, with the gangster names—Sallie the Butcher, and Oscar the Undertaker, and Jimmy the Iceman. And Bobby Car Service.”
Frankie laughed. “What an imagination! Sallie is a butcher. Oscar runs a mortuary. Jimmy owns an air-conditioning company. Bobby runs a livery car service. What'd you think they did?”
“I thought Oscar killed them and Jimmy froze them and Sallie cut them up and Bobby drove the getaway car,” Nicky said. Then he remembered something else. “If you're not gangsters, what about that time I came to the social club and you guys were all making notes and planning on getting the blueprints of some bank vault, and talking about casing the joint?”
Frankie thought about that and stared at his brother and Nicky, then said, “That was no bank vault. That was Scarantino's wedding hall. We were planning Sal-lie's wedding!”
“I thought it was a bank job,” Nicky said.
“The imagination on you!” Frankie said. “We're planning a wedding, and he thinks it's a heist.”
“What about the job in Arizona?” Nicky asked. “And what about that shoot-out over on Twenty-sixth Avenue? Was that a wedding, too?”
Welcome to the Family Page 10