by Jon Mills
Jack rubbed his eyes trying to keep awake. He was mentally exhausted by everything that had taken place since they’d arrived in New York. The continual battle to leave behind his past had taken its toll. He thought about Eddie’s letter on the way over. It was strange to think about him as his father. In his mind he was just a close friend. And what was on the computer? What was he talking about? Helping people? He had always thought that Eddie had worked at the auto dealers but by the looks of the guns and money inside the storage area, he was beginning to wonder what else he didn’t know about him.
Once they arrived at Leo’s, Jack watched them pull into the driveway and disappear behind the evergreen bushes. He parked across the road and jumped out. He was dressed in a black leather jacket, dark jeans, and shoes. It wasn’t exactly the most comfortable gear to be wearing. Especially when he was about to go into the lion’s den. But it would have to do.
He reached into the back of the truck and took out the case that contained the assault rifle. He had taken it just in case. He didn’t like using weapons with such firepower. They attracted too much attention, but in this case he thought it actually might be helpful. He thought about having the police show up.
They had told him they had the women. He saw them. He could just call the police and let them handle it. They would raid the home and more than likely get them out. The men inside would be too busy focusing on trying to escape to think about taking the women with them. Besides, they already had two of them on surveillance shooting up the hotel.
But then what if they escaped? What if they got hauled in? He knew Leo had ties with the police. A few phone calls and he could be out on bail. And as for the Sicilian Mafia, they could get out. It wasn’t a far stretch to see it happen.
As much as he didn’t like going it alone, he had little choice. The only thing that was motivating him at this point was the rage he felt for them killing Eddie. At least if Jack died in a shootout with these men, it would finally be over. He would no longer have to struggle. No longer have to face the demons in his head. The ones that constantly reminded him of the murders he had committed as a mobster.
Jack cast a glance down the street, took the assault rifle out of the case. That’s when he noticed a suppressor. He chuckled, grabbed it up and tossed the rifle over his shoulder by the strap. He did one last check on his ammo and then raced across the road. He would approach the house from the rear. He had remembered that the back portion of the house had large windows. It would give him a good sense of what he was up against. Where people were positioned. He fully expected some of Leo’s men to be out patrolling the grounds. They weren’t stupid. They would be waiting for him to show his face. No doubt, they had been given instructions to shoot on sight.
He crouched down, keeping close to the trees. Snow covered every inch of the property. It was starting to come down heavily. He spotted two of Leo’s men in the rear. They were talking to each other. One of them lit a cigarette, and then they parted ways to perform a routine check. He pressed his back against a tree and looked off into the distance as one of the men flashed a light into the tree line. He held his breath with his hand on the trigger, as he saw it sweep past him. He heard the man’s footsteps move past him.
Slowly he moved forward with purpose. He would take each of them out, one by one. Using bullets only when needed.
He crept through the snow behind the man who was holding nothing more than a handgun. Jack surveyed the area. The man stopped for a second and he thought that he had heard him. But he must have relit a cigarette. Jack took advantage of that momentary distraction. He came up behind, in one fluid motion he smothered the man’s mouth with his hand. His other arm went around him to prevent him from going for his gun. A quick twist and he snapped the guy’s neck. The body went limp. He dragged him back into the tree line, removed his handgun, and kicked snow over his body. Again he waited, until the other man appeared at the back of the house.
“Joe?” the man called out before sweeping his flashlight like a lighthouse. Jack remained as still as a statue. As it passed by, he pulled his assault rifle around and screwed on the suppressor. The man was still searching for his partner when the bullet hit him. It was followed by another and then he dropped. Jack scrambled across the yard. His mind was firing on all cylinders. He knew there were at least another two or three that might be walking the perimeter. He dragged the body into a shed and covered it with a tarp. The last thing he needed right now was to have an alarm sounding.
From where he stood he had a good view of the living area. It was lit up in a yellow glow. If he was after one person, he could have shot them from outside. The thought had crossed his mind. He probably could take out two of them before the others would be able to react. But it was too risky. They had the women inside. He wouldn’t have put it past any of them to take out their gun and shoot the women in retaliation.
He observed for a few more minutes until he heard the radio on the dead man crackle.
“Come in, Pete? Where’s Joe?”
He went over and turned it off. As he came out of the shed he was spotted by one of the other men. He knew the guy. His name was Leon. He was a good guy, but playing for the wrong team that night. As Leon turned to run, Jack raised his rifle and fired, hitting him in the back of the knee. He fell on the floor but not before letting off two rounds in the air.
That was the alarm.
Jack dashed towards him, shooting into his body before splitting off into a thick bush beside the house. The only advantage he had right now was darkness. It was pitch-black outside. Besides one floodlight that lit up the front area, the entire back part of the house was in darkness. The only light came from the windows. Not enough to find anyone hiding among thick evergreen bushes. Jack took a second to check his ammo. He slapped the magazine back into place.
He could hear voices. They were getting closer.
“Where is he?”
“I don’t know. This is fucked up.”
“I’m going back inside.”
He watched them retreat into the house. They were smart. Extortion was one thing, fighting against someone hidden by darkness was foolish. They knew him. They knew his reputation for getting anyone who had double-crossed Gafino.
Jack eased up out of the bush. Three down. Maybe five or six people left. His thoughts were now with his sister and Dana. Leo wouldn’t kill them. That wasn’t his style. But Vito. That was something entirely different. Jack scrambled towards the door where the other two had gone. It was at the side of the house. He put his hand on the handle and tried it. It was locked. He continued around the house until he saw them through the window. One of the men had a hold of his sister by the hair. She was on her knees. A gun pointed at her head. Another went to the back door and kicked it open.
“Jack.” He heard the sound of Vito’s voice.
Jack stayed silent, he didn’t move a muscle. His mind was reeling at the thought of losing his sister. He couldn’t see Dana. He assumed they were holding her down in the basement or upstairs.
“Now you can finish this without your sister’s blood on your hands or we can do it the hard way. Do you hear me, Jack?”
Jack could see the look of fury on the man’s face. Vito was bald, wearing a dark navy-blue suit. Everything about him conveyed power. The third man was scanning the windows while keeping his weapon firmly at head height.
He had no option here. They would kill her if he walked in there. They would end her life if he didn’t. The Sicilians had no rule that governed women. Women were no different in their eyes. They were equally responsible for their choices and disposable.
Jack raised his assault rifle at Leo’s man. The red strobe light danced on his forehead. He took a deep breath and breathed out, then pulled the trigger. The bullet impacted his head cleanly and he fell back without Milly getting hurt.
But it was a wrong choice. He watched a look of anger spread across Vito’s face. Then without saying a word Vito turned. Before Jack could
raise his gun, Vito fired two rounds into Milly’s head. She collapsed and so did Jack. His back pressed against the wall, his mind replaying her death over and over again.
“Now, you want the other bitch to die? You come out now. Drop your weapon.”
Jack wasn’t paying any attention. He could barely catch his breath. They had taken the last family member left in his life. They had killed his father, they had ripped his sister from him. Now all that remained was Dana.
That was one thing he never had to worry about when he worked for Gafino. All his work was in and out. Grab, shoot, kill. There was no room for protecting others. It was what had kept him alive. He was beginning to realize what Eddie was saying. There was a choice. But you couldn’t have both.
Jack got up. He loved Dana, but he couldn’t think clearly. All that raced through his mind now was killing them. Instincts took over. He came towards the back of the house and began to unload round after round through the windows. Glass shattered in a deafening roar as bullets snapped. The men inside didn’t have a chance to fire back as he was unleashing every single bullet he had in a sweeping fashion.
He yanked the magazine from the bottom of the rifle, tossed it and reached for another, not stopping for even a few seconds. He pressed forward as they attempted to return fire. He saw them crawling, before breaking into a run and ducking back into the safety of the house. He caught one of them in the shoulder and he hit the floor screaming in pain.
What he didn’t realize was that one of them had come around the side of the house. He was distracted and unable to hear the man as he was coming up behind him. He caught a glimpse of his reflection seconds before he lifted his gun. The bullet nicked his ear. A ringing sound vibrated loudly. He dropped. The man was on him faster than a tiger. They pummeled each other and rolled in the snow. The gun went off twice before he pried it loose from the man’s herculean grip. Jack smashed the butt of the gun three times in the man’s face.
It seemed to barely faze the guy. He rose back up, this time producing a serrated edged knife. He swept it back and forth. Jack managed to stay out of reach for a moment, but then felt his stomach burn as the man slashed him across the abdomen. Blood stained his shirt as Jack tried to wrestle the knife out of his hand.
Jack felt so much rage in that moment. He grabbed the assailant’s arm, twisted and snapped it. The man screamed in agony and fell to his knees. Jack still had a hold of his limp arm behind his back. He kicked him forward onto his face. The man groaned and looked up.
“Dominick,” the man yelled before Jack stepped on his back, reached down, and wrapped his forearm around his neck. He squeezed until he heard it crack. The body went limp. Jack looked up to see the barrel of a gun.
22
A chorus of police sirens could be heard getting closer. Dominick stared at Jack. In that moment Jack would have gladly accepted death. He was so torn up from seeing his sister brutally murdered that it no longer mattered what happened to him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the bullet to hit, but it never came. When he opened them, Dominick was gone.
Jack dragged himself to his feet. The place would be swarming with police in a matter of minutes. He heard the sound of a vehicle pulling away. He ran around to the front of the house. The SUV was gone. They were getting out before the police showed up. Jack raced over to his waiting truck, just as the police came down both ends of the road. He jumped into his truck. His heart was pounding inside his chest. His throat was burning. All he could do now was sit there as the darkness lit up with blue and red flashing lights.
Sirens blared as police approached the house. All along the road were parked vehicles. It didn’t look strange that his was across the road. It blended in and likely wouldn’t even be given a second glance.
As he sat and listened to police beyond his window, he curled himself as tightly as he could beneath the wheel on the floor.
It was a waiting game now.
Every few minutes he would check one of his side mirrors. His view was obstructed but as long as there were flashing lights he wasn’t going anywhere. They would be looking for him. He wondered if the police had caught Vito on the way out. Hopefully they would have Dana in custody. It was possible. Then again this wasn’t their first rodeo. No doubt, they would have figured out a way to avoid the police. He wondered if they were doing the same thing as him, just further up the road. Could they have pulled in and killed the engine? Perhaps driven into someone else’s driveway?
All he could think about now was, Dana. Was she alive? Had they killed her? What would he tell Jason if she was dead? He had no one else. Was Jason okay? He had to assume so. He trusted Frank.
He heard the sound of police walking back and forth. A flashlight swept across his truck. No doubt, they were performing a routine check of the area.
Hours passed until Jack fell asleep. He awoke to the sound of a motorbike starting. Its throaty exhaust pipe jolted him out of his slumber. His body was aching from being twisted into a pretzel shape under the steering wheel. A flood of memories came in, and he felt a pang of guilt. He knew he was responsible for the death of his sister. He might not have pulled the trigger, but he had forced their hand. Why didn’t you get her away from there? he thought. Why didn’t you put her in a treatment center on the other side of the state?
He got up and cast a glance outside. There were a few news vans parked outside. Some were preparing to go live. He saw several vehicles belonging to homeowners along the street pull away. No doubt, heading off to work.
Seeing that there were less police on the scene, he started the engine and pulled out behind another vehicle. Within in a matter of ten minutes, he was far away from the worst night of his life. He had one destination in mind that morning, Leo Carlone’s restaurant.
When he arrived the place was closed. There were no vehicles out front. He had no idea where they could be. No sense of where to go next. For all he knew they had killed Dana and were on their way out of New York.
23
Frank’s morning had begun like any other. He went through the numerous messages that had been left on his answering service. When he wasn’t on duty, other detectives in the department dealt with any pressing matter that arose. He was unaware of what had taken place that night until he switched on the TV. He flipped through the channels until he landed on city news. A news crew was stationed outside Leo Carlone’s home.
We are at the scene of what has been called a gangland murder. Details on what took place here in the early hours of the morning are still coming in, but what we have learned so far is that there have been multiple people murdered. One of those killed was a young woman. More details will follow as we get updates.
Frank ran a hand over his face. Oh, Jack, what have you done now? He continued poring over his messages until he got the one that Detective Harlow had left. It was to the point. Frank, call me. He phoned through to Harlow who was still on scene. He relayed what had happened.
“Any sign of Jack Winchester?” Frank asked.
“No, but we’ve found his sister. Dead.”
“Shit.” He paused, rubbing a hand over his face. “What about Dana Grant?”
“No sign of her but quite a number of Leo Carlone’s crew are dead. One of the bodies is a guy from the hotel surveillance. Anyway, when can you get down here?”
Frank breathed out a long breath. He looked over to the sofa. Jason was asleep still.
“I’m going to need you to handle it. I will be in later. But right now I have a few other matters to sort out.”
“Sure thing.”
He hung up. He needed coffee badly. Jason was beginning to stir when he went out to the kitchen. He fished around in the cupboard for a bag of coffee beans.
“Any word from Jack or my mother?” Jason asked as he rubbed sleep dust from his eyes and rolled his feet to the ground.
Frank wasn’t sure how to reply to that. He didn’t want to scare the kid, or send him into blind panic. Right now they didn’t know if Dana wa
s alive or not. He couldn’t cope with anyone going nuts this morning. He wasn’t even used to having someone stay at his house. It was always just him. That’s the way he liked it. Quiet. Peace. No one interfering in his day. Frank had grown to follow a routine every morning. He would wake up, get some coffee in him, go for a run, and do a workout. But that wasn’t happening this morning.
He knew he should be more sympathetic, but when you had worked as long as he had with the police department, you became jaded and numb. Most cops his age did. Every day he met people in dire situations. Those searching for a loved one. Those having to identify their loved one’s dead body. It had at one time moved him. He would weep with people. Not anymore. He had become cold to it all. It was a means to cope. To shut out the reality of what people did to each other. It wasn’t just crime families. At least with them he knew what to expect. It was the mothers who killed their toddlers, fathers who beat their children, and the pedophile rings.
The job changed you. It made you a different person. You no longer trusted anyone. You saw the world through a dark lens. It was hard to see it as being anything else than horrific.
In many ways he was sure that most officers suffered from some sort of slow PTSD. They lived with it daily. The department would encourage working out, joining a club, having some religion in your life. Anything that might take your mind off the work you had to do and the things you couldn’t erase from your mind.