Affliction

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Affliction Page 5

by S. W. Frank


  He thought the gesture was sweet and didn’t complain about the amount of money she spent because she had thought of him.

  The man with the torch adjusted the setting. The blue-red color leaped higher and the hard blow sound of oxygenated pressure caused him to swallow in fear. “Nico, por favore…por favore!”

  Nico stared at the man, unmoved and blasé. His steps were casual, similar to a stroll through a park without a care in the world is the casualness in which the enforcer approached. Nico was real close, even if he weren’t he’d still smell the stench of fear. And man did it stink.

  Nico spoke, not to the frightened victim but to the figure watching. “No mercy. No conscience. No unnecessary talk. Leave the embellishment to actors in a movie, what we do isn’t make-believe.”

  Tony did not look away. The action of the Sicilian was as ruthless as his reputation. To the heart is where he aimed the flame. The deafening scream Tony would never forget. He would also never forget the cold detachment exhibited by his mentor or the rancid smell of human flesh as it burned.

  Nico motioned him over. The death cries had stopped. The only sounds were the torch’s hiss and the crackle of the charred meaty torso. “Come!”

  Tony joined the enforcer. Nico placed the torch in Tony’s hand. “Burn a hole through his eyes.”

  Tony inhaled the stench, cognizant that Nico observed, waiting for any form of hesitancy.  He allowed the fire to burn until skin became a grotesque red and then blackened. He did the same to the other eye. 

  The man was dead, seared like cattle for a crime that Tony knew nothing about because Nico didn’t tell him. If this was training, he listened only to instructions, and kept the questions at a minimum.

  Nico glanced at his watch. “Hungry?”

  “Not really,” Tony answered.

  Nico chuckled. “Suit yourself.” He then took the acetylene torch from Tony’s hand, lit the hem of the man’s pants, shut off the apparatus, shoved it inside the duffle bag at his feet and then walked out the abandoned shack clutching his work tools.

  Another day on the job is the attitude Nico had, which caused Tony to wonder if maybe sitting at a drafter’s desk wasn’t so bad after-all. Nico hadn’t changed since the first day they met. The man was a callous sonovabitch, yet the meticulous nature in which he worked garnered Tony’s respect. Tony figured he’d hang in there. Nico was an expert; apprentices sometimes became masters. Leonardo da Vinci apprenticed under Verrocchio and from his understanding, Nico Serano studied from a legend, a man nicknamed The Butcher.  

  Tony jumped when the flames leaped to the ceiling. “Fuck!” he exclaimed when the door closed behind his mentor to seal him in.

  He rushed out and the night air caused him to cough out smoke. He heard Nico laugh. “I thought you wanted to stay, what happened?”

  “I said I wasn’t hungry.” Tony snapped as he followed Nico across the unmarked path to the car.

  “That was my code. Pay attention. I asked if you were hungry to let you know it was time to leave, pronto.”

  “You could have said that.”

  “I did.” Nico tossed the bag in the backseat. The flames provided illumination to the deserted area. There was nothing for miles except an abandoned farm on the edge of Caccamo littered with olive groves. He opened the driver’s door, leaned an elbow on the upper frame and asked again, “Hungry?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Bene. Let’s get something to eat.”

  Tony nodded and entered the car. They were back on a dirt path heading toward what might be considered a road, but for Tony a carpet of gravel and patches of grass.

  Nico tapped the screen on the dashboard and classical music played. They rode in silence for several kilometers until Nico spoke. “You want to know about the guy?”

  “Not particularly,” Tony answered. His eyes were on the dark roadway, wondering whether this conversation was also part of the training.

  Nico replied, “What if I tell you he didn’t do a damn thing and he’s just a random person we picked up, how would you feel about that?”

  “I’d say you’re lying because a random guy wouldn’t know your name.”

  The somber Nico chuckled. “Ah, now you’re paying attention. Bene.” He lowered the volume to the instrumental music and told Tony to reach in the glove compartment and read the document inside.

  Tony did as told.

  Hot damn!

  They had just killed a relative of Don Vecchio. A mafia bigwig who Nico traced through Domingo’s phone records and a man the U.S, authorities were moving to arrest with the cooperation of the Italian police.

  The elimination had begun.

  Tony thought of his fiancé and began to consider whether to send her back to the U.S. He didn’t want her in the middle of these silent wars on foreign shores. Maybe he’d been too hasty. Agreeing to have the wedding in Italy might not have been the best choice of venue. He didn’t know how far along Tiffany was in the planning process, but the first chance he got, he would suggest they wait to have the wedding in the states.

  From what he gauged, his employer needed to sanitize. Sometimes the fumes reached those in close proximity.

  “You have something on your mind Tony?” Nico asked out of the blue.

  “No.”

  “Second thoughts, maybe?”

  “No second thoughts.” Alfonzo had issued orders. Tony had observed Alfonzo long enough to establish he wasn’t stupid like Chip…no way…Chip didn’t have a smart bone in his body. A Mafioso of Alfonzo’s stature stayed alive with cunning, force didn’t always win a duel. In this case, he had to wipe Domingo’s grime from his hands and the only option was to hit the players before the law started figuring out names. Thinking about what occurred at the shop, he realized Domingo was marked the minute Alfonzo entered the door. He didn’t send anyone to handle the situation; he’d done the unpleasant deed himself.

  Tony wiped his lower lip; these guys were cold-blooded.

  Nico spoke. “You’re going on an assignment. I want to see if you can handle yourself in the field. You won’t have any crew. Tomorrow morning I’ll fill you in on the details. Meet me at the spot at three a.m. Let your lady know you have to go on a short business trip. Let’s get something out of the way so we can avoid that surprise look as I slice your throat if I hear you’ve broken rules. One, never talk shop with your woman or anybody, two, when you’re entrusted with a job, do it, no excuses. Three, never have me mop up after your mess. Four, break those rules and we’re no longer friends, capisce?”

  “No capisce. One, if I can’t talk shop with anybody doesn’t that include you?”

  “You’re a smart-ass, huh?”

  “I’m not a kid you need to explain common sense stuff to. While we’re having this discussion, let me remind you that even professionals screw up. A cigar for example can be dropped containing a killer’s DNA, but if a brother hadn’t been generous and withheld the identity of the careless smoker from Chip, who knows where that expert might be today, capisce?”

  “Humph.” Nico scoffed. “Right here enjoying a cigar in peace, while you and Chip’s establishment would be filled with a clientele of dead miscreants.” He reached inside the hand rest and silently laughed when Tony’s bravado wavered. When he pulled out two cigars, Tony’s broad shoulders relaxed. Nico’s eyes were on the road, held between his fingers were stogies. “Light ‘em up and shut the fuck up!”

   

   

   

   

   

   

  CHAPTER FIVE

   

   

   

   

  The boxes were packed and loaded on the truck today. The large bulky items were being shipped to Italy. Selange wanted some familiar furnishings, like an antique armoire that belonged to her Nana and a break front that she said was purchased by her dad.

  Alfonzo had shrugged; the u
gly pieces would be delegated to the basement anyway. The renovations were finalized on the villa; the children’s school and security were chosen. The only thing missing was the Diaz family on Italian soil which would happen shortly.

  Soon the Diaz roots would sprout to another part of the world to form solid limbs. Alfonzo walked along the edge of the shoreline. He could see the ancient fort and the hotels on opposite ends of the coastline to accommodate the influx of tourists who flocked here in droves over the years. Puerto Rico had changed and so had he. The island would always be his home, in fact his abode simply stretched to more continents.

  He chose to meet Emilio in Old San Juan to say farewell and to take a stroll on a part of the island his grandparents took him to visit when he was a kid.

  He looked at the old garrison sitting not far in the distance. Some things had changed, but that fort remained untouched. There wasn’t pretentious ambience other than the souvenir shop selling information of its history.

  Take a drive down Avenida Ashford and there were plenty of modern storefronts to fuel the consumer’s consumption for transient things.

  Jessica frequented Condado for the high-end fashion stores. Selange accompanied her on occasion. She said the shopping spirit in Condado was reminiscent of Miami. He agreed. Palm trees and quaintness is an attractive inducement to spend.

  Avenida Ashford was formerly a derelict shopping district. Alfonzo recalled the before picture. He leaned closer to the car window as the car rolled by the chain stores such as Chanel, Ferragamo, and Gucci. The after looked better, but the before was more real. Glitz is expensive and many of the inhabitants could not afford a Chanel purse or even a belt.

  Alfonzo had renovated a luxury hotel nearby. “Grande, grande,” the owner demanded. Big and sparkly costs but that’s what attracts people to plunk down their platinum credit cards and that’s what he gave in spacious rooms.

  The locals went to the upscale mall, Plaza Las Américas—the largest in the Caribbean—known to locals simply as ‘Plaza.’ However, amid the grande was an earthiness of Latin souls. A person could find a secluded spot and bask in the vibrant scenery and feel at peace because that’s what the island does.

  Finally he arrived at his destination. Emilio waited. He wore shorts and appeared relaxed. The collision of shoulders and fists caused Alfonzo to stiffen in remembrance. He was in the ‘hood, with Domingo in spirit.

  “Qué paso?” Alfonzo asked.

  “Nada.”

  Alfonzo gestured toward the beach after removing his shoes. “Let’s take a stroll.”

  Emilio fell in step.

  Alfonzo trudged across the sand for several kilometers before he spoke “I’m glad you’re finally tying the knot. Congratulations.”

  “Gracias,” Emilio replied. “I’d like you to be my Best Man.”

  “I’m honored to do it.”

  “Thanks, we’re doing a small wedding before the end of the year.”

  “All right.”

  “I’ll call you when everything’s ironed out.”

  Alfonzo nodded. The sun was setting. The beautiful orange-yellow glow sitting atop blue waters was stunning. Alfonzo had seen many sunsets in his life, and yet to see it from the island continued to take his breath away. Puerto Rico, man, he loved it just saying its name. He turned to Emilio. “I need to ask you a question.”

  Emilio walked straighter. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Are you satisfied with your business, with your woman and your life?”

  The answer came after a few steps across the sand. “When I look back at how far I’ve come, man oh man I see an ocean that separates the kid I was to the person I am now.” When Alfonzo stopped Emilio did too and looked Alfonzo in the eye. “I thank you for the opportunities. I can tell you beyond a reasonable doubt that I am damn happy with Jessica and being a father.”

  “And that adrenalin rush you craved, where did it go?”

  Pearly teeth sparkled. “A woman named Jessica is all the excitement I need. Have you met her, yet?”

  Alfonzo smirked and then humor dissolved. He didn’t want to worry about Emilio and have more burdensome nights. “Stay your ass clean. You’re a good dude. If you ever need anything –tap me. Don’t get mixed up with the street pharmacists or partner with anybody in business. Show my cousin there’s another side of life where honest hard-working men exist.” Alfonzo shook his head just thinking about how Domingo spit on men like Uncle Al. If Alfonzo could he’d make a trade for such a life where he could go to an office or change bolts and then go home and unwind. But that reality was for others, his destiny included lawlessness and violence. “Be the person I’m not, comprende?”

  Emilio nodded. He looked down at the glistening sand atop Alfonzo’s bare feet. They both held their shoes in their hands. When he lifted his head, he saw an honorable guy who changed a car thief’s life. He saw a person he admired. “You’ve taught me a lot. I know you hate the mushy shit, but you did. You taught me about family and responsibility. I’m here if you ever need me, you’ll always have my loyalty, word.”

  A solemn sigh escaped. “You don’t owe me anything Emilio.” Alfonzo shook his head, thinking about Domingo. “I’ve learned some hard lessons over the years about loyalty. That word is thrown around too much; volunteered to a person when things are good, but there aren’t many people who honor what they say because feelings change and so do people. Does it make them bad people, no, it just means words are easy to say and actions hard to do.” Alfonzo scoffed. “There might come a day when your loyalty might be tested. Whether you stand by me or anyone else really depends on how you feel about the person on that particular day.”

  “Where I come from, you keep your word. Up, down and through thick and thin, you have to stay solid or else you’re more than fickle, you’re a liar.”

  Alfonzo didn’t doubt Emilio meant what he said at the time, most people do. Yeah, but he’d learn eventually, there’s purple and then there’s lavender.

  Alfonzo changed the subject. “A set of cars will be delivered to your home in the morning. I’m leaving you my Audi, clean title, everything.”

  “Serious?”

  Alfonzo resumed walking. The bodyguards near the buildings did as well. “Serious.”

  “Jessica is going to blow a gasket.”

  “Nah, she gets a new Mercedes, fully equipped with the security features and the whole nine. I want you guys safe, too.”

  “Damn, that’s generous.” The excitement on Emilio’s face was hard to contain. Every car Alfonzo had cost a good piece of money and that’s not counting the detailing and safety additions. He was speechless.

  “In the trunk of the Audi will be enough to cover your future expenses for a while. Be smart with your cash. I think you’ve done a good job investing. Just remember you and Jessica have different spending habits. Make sure you sit down with her and decide on the financial future of your family. You hear me?”

  “Sí.”

  “Anyway I’ll be checking in often on family.”

  “May I ask a question?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Have you caught the person who you know...murdered Domingo?”

  Alfonzo didn’t falter. “Not yet, but I will.”

  When the men parted ways, Alfonzo stopped for a cappuccino. For the first time in his marriage, he dreaded going home. When a relationship is in turmoil, there’s a toll on the mind that is so heavy the body feels burdened.

  Yeah, he promised there wouldn’t be any more secrets when he and Selange tied the knot for the second time, but he didn’t know when he made the pledge he was lying. He couldn’t tell his wife he killed Domingo, not now, anyway.

  He’d probably come across like a psychopath. There were moments prior to seeing the video, guilt existed, but strange as it sounds, he didn’t have an iota of remorse left.

  The children and his wife are what continued to keep his blood from running ice cold. He was losing Selange, yeah, she was driftin
g away.

  He blamed himself. A sip of cappuccino on the drive here and there didn’t change the fact. She hadn’t forgiven him, nope, the chica was stubborn.

  The reason she gave to keep a husband at bay in the bedroom wasn’t solely the result of a disagreement during inebriation. Selange felt guilt for being alive.

  “Dame musica!” he said to the driver. He loathed the silence on the drive home.

  With a loud slurp he drank the last remnants of the coffee and placed the empty cup in a holder. He closed his eyes, letting the car rock him from side-to-side, ingesting the song.

   

  ‘Feeling my way through the darkness,

  Guided by a beating heart,

  I can't tell where the journey will end,

  But I know where to start…

  So wake me up when it's all over,

  When I'm wiser and I'm older,

  All this time I was finding myself,

  And I didn't know I was lost,

  I tried carrying the weight of the world,

  But I only have two hands,

  Hope I get the chance to travel the world,

  But I don't have any plans…

  Not afraid to close my eyes

  Life's a game made for everyone

  And love is the prize…’

   

  He reached the house and walked through the dimly lit corridor. There’s energy from children, while they’re asleep a parent can feel the flutter of innocent hearts. A home of love breathes and he wanted to be part of it always but somewhere he was losing the fight.

  Damn babe, don’t break me anymore. I’m becoming lost. The lyrics to the song had resonated so deep, they made him think.

  He was engrossed in thought until a door creaked open and a child’s head poked out. He came awake at the sight of one of his many loves.

  “Hi daddy,” Angelina whispered and then tip-toed like a burglar toward her father.

  A tired man scooped up the small child to plant a kiss on a rosy cheek. “¿Qué es esto?” he asked. “My angel is not asleep.”

  “I waited for you.”

  “You did hija?”

  “Um-hum,” she said shaking her head up and down.

  Her glow of innocence recharged his emotional battery.

 

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