The Warrior

by RT Lucas

  Calvino Mezzara along with Giancarlo Tranbucca Snr entered Calvino’s office and took their seats to the top of the desk. “When I give a time, I expect all parties to be present where is your son Carlo?” The male was not impressed as he side glanced his business associate and childhood friend. They had important matters that needed to be addressed now.

  Clearing her throat, Celeste regarded the two men. She knew that they had registered her presence, but neither of them directed so much as a nod in her direction. That irked her, just as it had done the million times they did it before. Still, it was her own small way of rebellion. In this male dominated world, she was constantly having to run to stand still. It mattered not that she was Calvino’s daughter and sole Heir. She didn’t have a penis and that meant that her value depreciated up until the time she bore a son for the family name. To hell with that – she had just as much ambition as any Don. And that included her father, she thought bitterly.

  Calvino’s head snapped up to the direction of his daughter and her smiled widely the gold tooth glinting in house mouth. “See Carlo! My bella is always here when asked, such a good girl my daughter unlike your irresponsible son. Celeste, my baby girl thank you for coming at short notice, you and I will talk about your studies privately after this.”

  Just as Calvino finished addressing his daughter, the doors burst open, with Giancarlo Jnr bounding into the office.

  “Sorry Papa, but the bomb took longer to make than I thought!” His hazel eyes scanned the room as the landed on Celeste, he loved to wind the female up. “Looking good cupcake – you wore that skirt just for me? I’m honoured baby doll.” He was laughing his head off as he took his seat at the side of the large oak table.

  Celeste thought up a hundred retorts to the smartass but kept them to herself as she gave a tight-lipped smile, drawing her eyes off of Geo and returning her attention to her father and his associate. “You had something to discuss of importance?” Celeste crossed her legs and leaned back in her high backed chair.

  Giancarlo Snr wasn’t much of a talker. He was more hands on. Reaching his hands behind his head, he nodded his head once to indicate for Calvino to proceed.

  Calvino lit the cigar he had placed to his lips, the flick of his lighter burning the blunt end as he inhaled deeply. “You both know of the great Alessandro Carberletti? Of course you do, it’s the only bedtime story we are read as bambinos.”

  Calvino saw the look of confusion of Celeste and Geo’s faces, looking directly at his daughter.

  “What happened to him, bella?”

  As if reciting by rote, Celeste promptly answered, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes at being asked to perform. “He was the head of the largest Sicilian families and his family were wiped out in a day, coining the phrase ‘a Carberletti’ for when such a massacre is carried out.” Next, he’ll ask her to juggle kittens while reciting the old tales just for shits and giggles, she thought to herself.

  “That’s where you’re wrong cupcake, his daughter died before the rest of them.It was years before old man Carberletti, wife and son were wiped out.” Geo sat with a smug grin on his face as Celeste drew him daggers.

  “Enough of the sarcasm Junior!” Calvino had rested the cigar into the large glass ashtray as his fists banged down on the table. “We have issues. Word had reached us very quickly that the exiled little double crossing bastard Belcastro had met his maker…Carberletti style.

  This information caused Celeste to sit up straight, arching her brow questioningly. “When was this?” She had known Belcastro Jnr briefly when she had a secondment to Oxford University a few years back and he had been there with his father trying to get his name on the List for approval. She didn’t like the spoiled little brat, but still – a ‘Carberletti’ was a rare event, especially considering the Belcastro family were so notorious.

  “Three weeks ago. Martinez is trying to take over, being the smarmy little fucker he was brought into this world to be. But I will come back to Martinez. What is puzzling us is who is behind it. The operating crews say there a new family rising fast – but here’s the strange part. The head of this organisation is contacting the ancestors of old man Carbeletti’s former associates.”

  Celeste glanced over at Geo who was being unusually quiet and then leaned a little forward towards her father. “Do you think it was Martinez? Makes sense for him to ‘off’ the old man and pursue his throne.” She leaned back again as her brain processed the information about this new crew emerging onto the scene.

  “Martinez hasn’t got the balls to kill Belcastro. He was nothing but his bitch who would bend over for him whenever Belcastro clicked his fingers.” Geo was the one that spoke, his fingers were twirling the signet ring on his middle finger that all members are given on their eighteenth birthday, the night they are inducted into the Mafia.

  “Look elsewhere Uncle Calv, but keep an eye on Martinez – his ego and greed will get the better of him soon.”

  Celeste shrank back in her chair, avoiding looking at Geo. Her father was not amused by his orders.

  “I will do nothing boy. You and my daughter will look elsewhere and keep an eye on that snake Martinez.” Calvino settled back to his calm demeanour. “Teach your son some manners Carlo or I will find someone that will.”

  As Celeste watched the interaction between her father, Carlo and Geo, she was busy forming plans in her head. Where the men failed she would succeed. They were always so preoccupied with their pissing contests, they lost focus. She never lost focus.

  Geo sank back into his chair as his father stared at him, the stare was enough.

  “You and Celeste will leave immediately for Mexico, find out who killed Belcastro and who this new crew are as they are rising fast and will be on our turf in no time. You are both dismissed.”

  She waited until they were both outside on the manicured grounds before speaking to Geo. “Do you have a death wish? You know better than to anger them like that!” Celeste shook her head as she pressed the key for her car, hearing the beep from the alarm. “I’ll organise flights, be at the airport in two hours.” She flicked her dyed red hair over her shoulder as her high heels clicked hard on the paving stones. “Don’t be late or I leave without you,” she stated matter-of-factly, sliding into the driver’s seat of her Lamborghini.

  “You ain’t my mamma, cupcake” Geo smirked as he lit up a smoke and headed over to his Ferrari leaning against it. He mused over this mission…stuck with stuck-up cupcake? Fucking A!

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  Drumnadrochit, Scotland 45 A.D.

  It had been a long march back to the village, and Shuggie was never as happy as when he seen the mouth of the Loch shrouded in a low veil of fog up head. The battle had been ferocious and they had lost many men, but they had taken out more from the enemies’ numbers, and it would be many moons and suns before anyone dared encroach on their lands again.

  As was tradition, the village elder walked ahead of them when the Loch came into sight. The truth was that when the battle had started he took off to save his own skin, and returned only when victory was secured. It was never spoken about, though – because for all intents and purposes he led his men out and brought them back as a victor and chief. Shuggie cared not for such pomp and ceremony – he was born to fight and took pride in being the Protector of the Innocents, a rank that he had earned from being the most experienced in battle and the fiercest of soldiers.

  Shuggie was in need of bathing and the attentions of his wife, Mhairi. He was always pleased to see Mhairi. She was a good wife, and had borne him four children in their five year union. The village elder had given his daughter to him in marriage as a reward for single-handedly fighting off warring marauders who had invaded their lands, intent on stealing their women, killing their men and thieving their valuables and cattle. He cared for her, and respected her, but love never entered the equation. He knew that Mhairi was not in love with him either, but with a blacksmith from the next village that she had met the
year before their betrothal. Mhairi was faithful to him, but the day when she stopped bearing children and could leave his hut would come, and he would give his blessing to her going to find her happiness. He adored his children, however – the minute they came screaming onto this earth, they replaced his beating heart in his chest. They were his joy, pride and world and he would do anything for them. Shuggie could think of nothing that made him happier than the sound of his children’s laughter. Each time he returned from battle, he could hear them before seeing them, as they ran at full pelt towards him, arms outstretched for him to capture them in his arms and carry them all at once back to their hut.

  There was something different about today, though, Shuggie noticed. Something unsettling. An eerie silence and the fog that he had seen as they climbed over the hill towards the village seemed to be thickening. It wasn’t fog. It was thick, dirty smoke billowing from the direction of the huts and living areas. And there was no one coming to greet them…

  Drumnadrochit, Scotland, Present Day

  Shona rubbed her hands on her old jeans and stood up, her bones protesting at the change in posture. She groaned loudly as she stretched, “I’ve the body of an octogenarian!” laughing as Mark helped her out of the trench.

  “While you are bemoaning your woes Shona my dear, take a look at this!” he handed her a piece of paper and watched with a smile on his face as she read it.

  “Is this some kind of hoax? Is it April fool’s Day?” Shona eyed him suspiciously, but then went back to reading the paper she was now holding tightly between her hands.

  “It is not a hoax, and I can confirm that April fool’s Day has been and gone three months ago! I could hardly believe it when Thomas asked me to look at the computer. We have funding from an interested party in Russia. It seems they have a fondness for Scottish History and Culture and by chance had heard about our dig…” his voice trailed off as Shona ‘Whooped’ and ‘Yippeed’ whilst doing a demented dance of joy, squelching in the mud around him. “Am I to take it from your reaction that we will graciously accept this donation, my dear?” He had a toothy grin on his face as he linked his arm through Shona’s and they walked back to the admin tent, pushing and pulling at each other as they laughed and planned how they would spend the £100,000 donation from their new Russian sponsor.

  As they reached the tent, Mark handed a flask of hot tea to Shona. “It has plenty of sugar,” he remarked, noting that Shona’s tea to sugar ratio was unhealthily high. As Shona drank and settled in one of the threadbare camp chairs, discussing the email they had been sent with Thomas, he pulled out his cell and pressed the banking app he had installed.

  “The money is already in our account, Shona.” Mark held out his cell to let her see for herself. As Shona resumed her ‘happy shoe-shine shuffle dance’ Mark stole her seat, but shared a concerned look with Thomas. The speed with which the money had been deposited in their account, without a confirmation email or phone call from any of them to this unknown Russian was starting to make him feel rather uneasy. He would keep his reservations to himself for now, as he didn’t want to be the one to rain on Shona’s parade. She hadn’t been this happy since before her grandparents died, and it was good to see her in such high spirits.

  No, Mark thought to himself, later, when they had stopped work for the day, he would speak to Thomas privately and see what thoughts he had on the matter. Perhaps he was just over-reacting. His fear was that he wasn’t. He needed to get more information on this man and his businesses – no one ever gave something for nothing, not in this day and age…what was his motive and what price did they really have to pay in accepting his money?

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Xavier finished at the bench press and threw his sweat-soaked vest in the corner of the room, patting himself dry with his towel as he headed to the punch bag to continue his workout. Alicia had been out shopping with Teodora for hours, and he needed to keep his mind off of her and everything that had happened over the past couple of days. Working off his frustrations and concerns, he wrapped his bare fists in tape. The muscles in his shoulders and back bunched tightly as he raised his arms, pulling back to pound the bag, right–left–right–right–left. His jabs were low and powerful as his biceps bulged. The sweat was now trickling down his toned body, and his pants were turning from light to dark grey as he kept his punishing momentum going. His feet were planted firmly on the ground and it was sheer upper body strength that he was using. His hair was damp and his jaw was set tight as he bit into the mouth guard, his knuckles bruised and bleeding. Shaking his head to get rid of the sweat from falling into his eyes, the leather tie in his hair fell out and his dirty blonde hair was mussed up and straggling over his face. Cursing behind the guard he continued to punch and jab – each hit meeting its mark, until the sawdust started spilling out of the bag as it swung wildly from the stand.

  Hawkeye delivered Alicia and Teodora home in one piece, and needing to drown himself in beer, he excused himself quickly and head to his quarters. Alicia smirked as she watched Teo also head away loaded with designer bags filled with goodies. She just had to tell Xavier about what was in some of those bags! Being lazy she flashed herself about the compound until she finally heard grunts coming from the gym that was located deep underground of the property.

  Alicia stood still as she leaned against the door frame of the gym watching as Xavier was deep in his own head and had ripped the punch bag to bits. Not wanting to encroach on what was a personal moment for him she slowly turned around, hoping that he hadn’t sensed her.

  Xavier spat out the mouth guard. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going, stalker?” grinning at Alicia’s reaction to seeing him workout. “Get your ass back here.” As he lifted the ruined punch bag off of the stand and carried it over to the corner of the gym, he whistled and tilted his head for her to come and join him.

  “Duck,” Alicia mumbled to herself, he was immortal now…of course he would hear her! She made her way back to the gym and taking a huge gulp as she saw his sweat sheened, ripped body and was sure that she was swaying. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, just checking in that I’m ho...Back”

  “Ho...Back,” Xavier repeated back to her, then laughed. “Home – you’re back home, Sweetcheeks. Besides, you’re not interrupting...” He held out his hand for her, beckoning her forward. As she hesitantly took his hand, he grabbed her and rubbed his face and torso against her, his deep laugh against her hair as she wriggled against him. “Nothing wrong with a little sweat, yeah?” He kept a hold of her but leaned back to study her face. “Good day?” She didn’t have any bags with her, so he wondered if by her attitude and demeanour that something had gone wrong whilst she was out.

  Alicia gave a small smile, the word ‘home’ she was having trouble with but hoped that Xavier couldn’t tell, he had enough to deal with just now and her little issue she wasn’t about to share. “I fucking hate shopping, but today was about Dory – and oh Meerkats Xav!” Alicia’s tone had changed to laughter.

  “So – I take Dory shopping for lingerie because no female should wear pants that stop at her armpits, but she decided her horse needs a new fucking crop! She must also restrain patients because handcuffs were purchased! She’s really sweet and dorky though.”

  “Yeah, real sweet and dorky,” Xavier retorted sarcastically. “A riding crop, new underwear and handcuffs, eh? Kinky fucking bastards!” he barked a laugh as he scooped Alicia up in his arms, holding her horizontally, and started lifting her above his head, bench-pressing her as he walked around the Gym. “Shug is in for an awakening! The Dirty Doc.” still laughing as he pushed Alicia upwards, then brought her back down to his shoulders. His large hands held her securely, and she was so small it was no effort for him to lift her at all. “So you didn’t buy anything while you were out?” He was just being sociable in asking...the thought of Alicia parading in lace and silk hadn’t even entered his head. Much.

  “I never buy anything Darlink,” Alicia laughed out loud
at her statement as she peeked down at Xavier. “Why the fuck would I need to acquire new underwear? I don’t wear pants that double up as a bra you fidiot.”

  “Wouldn’t know Sweetcheeks, I’ve yet to find out for myself, yeah?” Xavier licked the corner of his mouth to check he wasn’t actually drooling. “So you and the Doc talk about much when you were out?” Like, for instance – how fucking awesome he was or fuck handsome or shit like that. Xavier lowered Alicia to hold her at arm’s length, still horizontal, one hand behind her neck, the other at the back of her thighs. The muscles in his arms were almost shining with sweat. As he pushed then pulled her whole body back to him then away, his toned biceps and triceps were tightening and becoming more sculpted than before. Xavier’s eyes were trained on Alicia’s.

  “Are you using me as pub bell?” Alicia’s laughter radiated around them as she was pushed outwards then pulled just as quickly back to Xavier. “She’s in love, talked about Hugh the whole time we were out. I just followed – teasing Hawkeye was more fun than those fucking department stores.”

  “Dumbbell, Sweetcheeks,” Xavier corrected her, before growling low, “teasing Hawkeye?” He was going to fucking punish that soldier. “You had fun, with this ‘teasing’?” He had stopped working out and was holding Alicia still as his brow creased. He did not like his female teasing any male. And neither did his wolf. Suddenly his face became superimposed with the ghost of his wolf, and he could feel the change starting in him.