Mick had been walking down the stairs, but when he heard that name he stopped in his tracks, causing the train of people behind him to stop too.
“What is it, Uncle Mick?” Sal asked.
Mick turned around and looked at Robby Yale. “Who’s his girlfriend?” he asked him again.
“Her name’s Jamila,” Robby said again. “Jamila VanDam.”
“VanDam?” Teddy asked. He was as shocked as his father.
“Yeah, why?” asked Robby as if he was talking one underboss to another one. Although he knew Teddy, as Mick Sinatra’s underboss, was don-level compared to Robby and all the other underbosses in the underworld.
“Who’s Jamila VanDam?” asked Reno. “What’s the connection?”
“She’s the daughter of Marti VanDam,” said Teddy.
“Oh, shit,” said Amelia. “That woman who used to be Mick’s consigliere?”
“His informal adviser,” said Teddy, and they all remembered now.
“But I thought the daughter went to Africa or somewhere after Mick killed that family,” said Big Daddy.
“She did,” said Teddy. “And Pop let her.” Then Teddy looked at his father. “But she apparently came back.”
Mick ran his hands through his hair.
“Wait a minute,” Sal said, thinking this thing through. “Are you saying Mick killed Gregor Govanoff’s father and this Jamila VanDam’s mother too?”
“Not at the same time, but yeah,” said Teddy. “That’s what we’re saying.”
“This shit ain’t no coincidence then,” said Sal.
“No,” said Mick, his face in deep concentration. “It’s not. None of it is.”
“But what does that mean?” Reno asked.
“It means failure is not an option,” Mick said. “We get them both,” he added, and then continued down the stairs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“They just left the Sinatra compound,” the voice on the cell phone said, and Gregor Govanoff smiled. After getting more info, Gregor ended the call.
He and Jamila VanDam were seated in a Van, parked in a repair shop garage within three long blocks of the Sinatra estate, with two other vans in front of them. The subterfuge began the moment Sal’s men spotted who they were certain was Gregor and his lady driving onto the campgrounds hideaway. It was their hideaway, alright, but they weren’t in that convoy.
But Jamila was still antsy. “Did they confirm that Mick Sinatra is in the group heading out?” Jamila asked. “He’s a slick bastard.”
“They confirmed it,” said Gregor. “They’d know that white-coat-wearing motherfucker ten miles away. And it wasn’t a group heading out,” Gregor added. “It was an army. A cavalcade. They said they’d never seen anything like it.”
“But how are our men going to withstand that kind of onslaught,” Jamila asked, “if the force Sinatra’s bringing will be that overwhelming?”
“They’re fight for their lives,” Gregor said. “They’re strong men.”
“And if they lose?”
“Who gives a shit,” said Gregor. “They aren’t the main event. We are.”
Jamila exhaled. A plan that seemed foolproof was worrying her now. “Why aren’t we going in now? When are we going in?” she asked.
“We go in when I get confirmation that Mick the Tick is at the campgrounds in the heat of the battle. Then, and only then, will we go in,” Gregor said, and sat back and relaxed.
But there was no relaxing at the campground on Bledsoe. They arrived in six different groups because Mick’s plan was very specific. Each group was to go in hard, fast, and shoot to kill. Anything that moved, he warned them, kill it. He didn’t care what or who it was. It was message time.
And the Sinatra/Gabrini syndicate delivered the message loud and clear. Reno and his men entered in on the left perimeter of the campground, while Sal and his men entered onto the grounds from the right side.
The men that were guarding both perimeters tried to hold their position by firing their assault weapons with rapid fire. But Reno and his men, and Sal and his men had them greatly outnumbered. Both perimeters were thought to be the most fraught with danger, but Sal and Reno handled their business in a way that would have made Mick proud.
They were shooting down Gregor’s men almost effortlessly, making target practice of each and every one of them. They were able to march toward the center, where a recreational structure stood, with not one of their men hit. When they made it to the structure and entered, the men who were stationed inside, ran up the stairs.
Then the white coat appeared, and every one of Gregor’s men knew who wore that coat. They began dispersing from the front perimeter. It had the heaviest resistance, but it also had the fastest retreat. They saw that coat, and took off.
But that didn’t mean they were off the hook. They weren’t. Mick’s orders were absolute. Nobody in Govanoff’s camp got off of that property alive.
They ran into the woods, after the cowards, to attack them there. But then realized something was wrong. Tommy saw it first. He saw that they were running into a trap, and they all quickly stopped.
And they went immediately to Mick’s Plan B.
And as Plan B had predicted, Gregor’s men ran out of the woods, and began what they thought was a chase down of Mick’s men.
But the Sinatra/Gabrini men were lying in wait. And as soon as Gregor’s men got closer, the signal was given, and the men pulled out grenades, pulled the pins, and launched them across the grounds, killing many of the men.
The ones they didn’t touch retreated themselves, back toward the woods.
But the men advanced, shooting as they ran. It was a battle royal.
Everybody was fighting to the death.
Gregor had received the confirmation before the battle even began. He gave the order to move out, and the three vans waiting at the repair garage took off.
Jamila was nervous but excited too. She’d been waiting for the chance to avenge her family’s murders for a long time. It seemed impossible, until she met Gregor and their interests aligned.
Now they were moments away from victory. She could almost smell it. But Gregor was taking no chances.
He pulled out his Walkie Talkie. All three vans were plugged in. And he gave the final orders.
“We go in with fire under our feet. I estimate Sinatra left only a skeleton crew behind, but enough men to kill our asses. So we can’t play around. We go straight in. Got it?”
His van team leaders said that they understood.
But when they arrived at the Sinatra compound, they were all surprised to see that the security gate was wide open, and nobody was manning the entrance.
“Looks like they left in an awful hurry,” said Gregor, smiling. “This might be easier than we thought!”
“Don’t count on it,” Jamila said. “He survived those two ambushes that night at that barbershop. He won’t leave his family exposed.”
“Of course he won’t!” Gregor fired back. “But when you have a singular purpose, and they tell you they’ve found the bane of your existence at this moment in your life, you tend to forget everything else until you eliminate the main event. We’re the main event, sweetheart, and we aren’t even at the show!”
He laughed, but Jamila was still too nervous.
But as they entered the gate, they realized something more had happened at Mick’s estate. His front gate guards had all been shot, and were lying just beyond the guard station.
Gregor was shocked. “I’ll be damn,” he said. “Somebody already hit that asshole. Somebody beat us to the punch.”
Because, as the vans drove in further, they began seeing more and more dead guards. All of Mick’s crew he left behind, it seemed, were lying dead across the property.
Gregor, stunned, got on the Walkie Talkie again as the vans sped toward the main house. “Alright, people, remember what I said. It looks like somebody else took care of Sinatra’s men for us, but they may not have gotten everybody. We wa
nt to get everybody. So still no hesitation. When we jump out of these vans, we don’t give those fuckers a chance to regroup. They didn’t see us coming, let’s make certain they don’t see us going either. Because anybody still alive will be dead, too,” he added, and they laughed.
Until the speeding vans slammed on brakes at the entrance into the main house, and they all jumped out, fully armed, with Gregor and Jamila bringing up the rear.
The advance crew ran up the steps so fast that they already had the battering ram breaking down Mick’s front door by the time Gregor and Jamila was on the top step. And all of them, locked, loaded, and aimed, ran in.
But they ran right into a buzz saw because as soon as they entered the massive foyer, they all stopped in their tracks.
To their shock, Mick the Tick himself was seated in the middle of the foyer surrounded by fifty men with fifty guns, including Big Daddy Sinatra, Teddy Sinatra, and Amelia Sinatra. And all of them had their weapons locked, loaded, and aimed at their intruders.
And Gregor’s men knew before Gregor knew that they didn’t stand a chance. It was one thing when they were going to have the element of surprise and pull it off while Mick was away at the campgrounds. It was something entirely different when he was staring his hard, cold face right at theirs, and with backup to boot.
Without being asked to, every last one of Gregor’s men laid their weapons down and placed their hands in the air.
But if they thought that gesture would grant them mercy from Mick, they had another thought coming.
Mick angrily rose from his chair, his Magnum in his hand, walked up to those men, and shot each and every one of them right through the forehead, just as they had shot his driver and his bodyguard. Just as they had attempted to shoot him and his children.
Gregor, seeing the writing on the wall, dropped his gun too. Jamila had already dropped hers, and she started crying. She wanted to play on Mick’s sympathy, but after seeing what he had just done to those defenseless men, she knew that would be useless.
She decided to make a run for it.
“She must be kidding,” Amelia said, as she ran toward the front door after Jamila.
Amelia caught her with little effort, grabbing her by the hair, before she could even run out of the door. Then she slung her down and Mick placed his shoe on her neck. There was a time when they had a wonderful relationship. But when she decided to come back to the States and go in with Govanoff, she made her bed. “I thought you wanted revenge,” he said to her. “I thought you wanted payback. You can’t payback running away.”
“Go to hell,” Jamila screamed with hate and rage. “Go to hell!”
“No thanks,” Mick said. “But you can if you wish.” And he fired one shot, just as he had with the other men, right through her forehead.
Then he turned his attention to Gregor. “Surprised?” he asked, because Gregor still seemed stunned.
“You’re supposed to be at my house. They confirmed it!”
“The confirmed that my coat was at your house. And they were right. But something remarkable about my nephew Tommy. When he put on my coat, he looks just like me. Nobody can tell the difference unless they look real close. Who the fuck looks close in the heat of battle? All they see is Mick the Tick’s outfit. So they assume it has to be Mick the Tick. It’s as if I’m wearing it myself.”
“That’s crazy,” said Gregor.
“We fooled your ass,” said Mick.
Then Mick’s easy look was gone. “I played your game. You hit Don Aronzo’s compound. You hit Don Peshi’s compound. You hit Don Corello’s compound before I could hit any of them. So I hit my compound. That’s right. I hit my own compound. Except,” he added, looking beyond Gregor to his opened front door, “I didn’t kill my people.”
Gregor saw Mick look beyond him, and then turned around and looked too.
Outside, all of Mick’s supposedly “dead” guards stood up in mass. None of them were dead. None of them, as Gregor had thought, had been shot. All of them were fine.
Gregor, stunned, looked at Mick. “How did you know I would even come here to see this stunt?” he asked.
“You hit Don Aronzo’s compound,” Mick said again. “You hit Don Peshi’s compound. You hit Don Corello’s compound before I could get there. I knew I was dealing with a sneaky bastard. That’s why, when I saw what you had done at those three locations, I paid attention. You showed me who you were, and I believed you.”
Then Mick had a question of his own. “Why?” he asked Gregor.
Gregor stared at him. “I wanted territory. I wanted to be King of America. Jamila wanted revenge. Why not?” he asked.
Mick stared at him with a hatred that most people would not have even seen in his eyes. But Teddy saw it. Big Daddy too. Amelia saw it too.
“Let’s go,” Mick said to Gregor, and Big Daddy and Teddy grabbed him and pulled him along behind Mick. Amelia followed them with her weapon still drawn, as backup.
Mick headed straight for his home hospital, where Gloria and Joey were in the room under full guard protection. Roz and the rest of the family were in the safe room, waiting, with Brent Sinatra and Jimmy Gabrini and Bobby Sinatra in charge of security.
Mick walked up to their beds. Teddy and Big Daddy pulled Gregor beside the beds too. “My son and my daughter,” Mick said to him. Then he looked at Gloria and Joey. “Meet the man that caused your injuries.”
Joey leaned up and spat on Gregor.
Mick looked at Gregor. “Remember what your men did to my daughter? How they beat her ass? Remember that? Nobody beat on my children, but me.”
Teddy saw a flash of pain in his father’s eyes. “She didn’t know what hit her,” he said. “But you’re going to know what hit you,” he added, and then he punched Gregor so hard that one of Gregor’s knees buckled.
And Mick grabbed Gregor and began punching him, repeatedly, in his face. Then he took his head and slammed it against a steel beam on one of the beds so hard that a gash opened immediately, and blood gushed out.
But if Gregor thought it was over, he was mistaken.
“Let’s go,” Mick said, and began heading out of the hospital. Teddy and Big Daddy grabbed Gregor, who was still bleeding, and headed out too. Amelia knew her role. She was to remain with the family.
Mick and the crew headed out of the back of the house and across the back lawn to his helipad. His helicopter was cranked and the pilot was ready to go.
Mick got onto the copter, and Big Daddy and Teddy hoisted Gregor onto the copter too. “I got it from here,” Mick said.
“You sure, Mick?” asked Big Daddy. But he and Teddy both knew Mick was sure. They backed up, and the helicopter took off.
“Where are you taking me?” Gregor asked as he held his shirt against his gash. “Where are we going?”
But Mick didn’t respond. He just sat there as the helicopter flew them away.
Then Mick looked at him. “Remember when your men shot my son?”
“I told them to scare him, not kill him. I should get something for that!”
Mick’s eyes turned stormy. “I won’t shoot you to death either,” he promised. “That’s something.” Then Mick shot Gregor, with glancing strikes, in his arm, his leg, his other arm.
Gregor cried out in pain. It was like torture! “What are you doing to me?” he pleaded.
Then Mick leaned up and opened the helicopter door.
Gregor’s heart sank. “What are you doing?” he asked, although he knew full well.
“Remember when your men threw my child out of that car?” Mick asked. “Remember that night?”
“No, Mick,” Gregor said, shaking his head and looking down at the far away ground, and then looking back at Mick. “You can’t be serious! You can’t be!”
But Mick was serious as a heart attack. And he angrily grabbed Gregor even as Gregor fought against him. But Mick was twice his size. He easily grabbed Gregor up, and held him to the opening of the helicopter.
“Mick,
no!” Gregor cried, as his hands held onto both sides of the opening. “Please, no! I’ll do anything!”
But Mick wasn’t interested. He removed both of Gregor’s hands from the sides of the opening and then took his shoe and kicked Gregor in the ass so hard that Gregor couldn’t help but sail out of the helicopter like an oversized bird.
A bird without wings.
Mick stood there and watched as the man who would be king hit the ground, in the middle of a quiet, suburban neighborhood, with a violent splash. And splattered like a watermelon.
Mick saw it, and saw for himself that the ringleader was dead, and then he ordered the pilot to take him home.
He leaned back, emotionally spent. And then he pulled out his cell phone and called Tommy.
“What’s the body count?” was his first question to Tommy.
“All of them are dead on this end,” said Tommy.
“And us?”
“Some of our men were wounded,” Tommy said. “But they’ll live.”
Mick nodded. “Good,” he said. “Good.”
And he ended the call, tossed his phone aside, and closed his eyes. All he wanted was to see Roz again, take a long, hot bath, and sleep the sleep of a satisfied man.
EPILOGUE
Joey took the ball, threw it into the pool, and Duke and Jackie, in the pool, raced to see which one could outswim the other one to retrieve the ball first. Joey laughed when Jackie was winning that contest. “You’re gonna let that girl beat you, Duke boy?” Joey yelled with a grin on his face. “You’re gonna let that girl beat you?”
Mick and Roz sat on the patio near their pool, relaxing and drinking wine. Roz smiled. “They love having Joey around,” she said.
“He loves being around,” said Mick, in sunglasses and with his eyes closed.
“I thought he’d be depressed by now,” Roz said. “Gloria’s completely healed and out living her life. Teddy’s running everything, including the docks while he recovers. And he’s here, with us, and in a wheelchair. But he’s handling it surprisingly well.”
Mick Sinatra: Ice Cold Love Page 15