“Agreed!”
Alberti
handed
Carlo the address and stepped away from the cars. With his brother were four of
the finest.
They were instructed to remain with
Carlo
, protect him and if anything went wrong to bring Carlo home to his family for a proper burial. He lit a cigar as the small caravan began to exit the drive
.
He did not pray, such
a prayer would be foolish and go unanswered. No, the saints had not answered his prayers as a boy
and
today
would be no different.
***
Christopher
saw an explosion
somewhere below on
his left and turned the car in its direction.
In the night he recognized the silver Mercedes SUV as it flipped over
and over
before
land
ing
u
pright
smoke billowing from the hood
.
He recognized the Diaz’ reinforced vehicle; he’d driven it many times. His first thoughts were of Selange and her son. Then he noticed the fast moving cars heading straight to the SUV and his foot pressed hard on the gas. His head struck the top of the ceiling as it jumped up and down over the hilly earth his chest beating frantically at the sight drawing near.
Several men emerged from the cars ca
rrying an arsenal of artillery
. They
brac
ed
themselves against
their vehicles’ doors
preparing to fire.
Christopher
held the steering wheel tight and in one suicidal act rammed into the rear of one car then t
hrew the car
in reverse striking the jeep. The jeep spun around mowing down two of the men and sent others scurrying to safety.
Smoke and dust blew into
the air
along with rapid gunfire. He unhooked his seatbelt
and
jumped free as the car was ripped to shreds by bullets. He crouched in the dark then rushed to a cement mixer located a few yards away. He slumped there, breathing hard and fast as he gathered his wits. The shouts alert him to the men’s position
. He
gauged they were approximately fifty feet
away
.
When h
e
peered out
they were
advancing, spreading out like shadows to search for him. Their footsteps were loud in the silence and he used it to scamper further to a dump truck near piles of steel.
A
barrage of high caliber
bullets
tore through the
night striking the beams
with a pinging noise. O
ne
caught
him
in the arm an
d he grimaced
under the
pain
. It
burned through his flesh
causing a bead of s
weat
to appear on the edge of h
is forehead
.
They were advancing and he was running out of places of concealment. He returned fire then rushed behind a huge metal dumpster. H
e
pat
his pocket
for a magazine clip and found it missing
then checked his weapon
.
One bullet remained, he cursed.
Dammit, what now?
A
lfonzo
awakened in the back of the SUV bleeding profusely from a gash
somewhere on his head. It was eerily quiet
as he climbed
from
the cargo
hold
to the backseat.
Selange lay in a fetal position on the floor
unmoving.
He touched her arm and she moaned.
Relieved his heart beat once more.
“You okay?” He asked.
“I feel sick.”
He crouched down
. Her pretty white dress was stained. He put his hand to her stomach, “Don’t move. Stay
down,
I’ll be back
for you
.”
“Don’t go out there…stay.”
Alfonzo rubbed her flushed cheek,
“It’s going to be okay. I promise.”
Her eyes closed
and she whispered, “
You said that before.”
“This time is
different,
I’m on my own turf.”
“
Okay
be careful and
hurry back.”
“I will,” then he
leaned over the seat
to quickly check the guys
, “Giuseppe, how you doing?”
“My leg
’s
broke
.
”
“
Okay
.”
He said
and turned
to see Vin suffered a bump to the head. He appeared dazed from the blast but he breathed. Alfonzo
tapped
Vin’s
shoulder
, “Sit tight big guy, I’ll be back,”
then slid out the backdoor with
Glock
in hand.
Gunfire rang out
close to the unfinished brick structure and
he saw
them.
S
ilhouettes
crept
along the perimeter
and he moved in the
ir direction. Whatever they sought to find in the dark he cared little about. In his fury he only sought to end their search.
Cold ice chilled his blood as he
progress
ed stealthily
across the dirt blending with trees until he was close enough to strike. There was no
outward
emotion from the blue eyes
.
Alfonzo advanced
and came
within a foot of one
man, yet he did not hear until the hour of death tolled
.
Alfonzo’s
heart beat quietly, no drumming of excitement, only
a
calculated
mechanical churning of a human
death
machine. His
mouth
flat-lined
and he aimed at the back of the unsuspecting victim’s head and blast
through
it
. The cranium burst
open
like a watermelon
splattering everywhere
.
The outline
as the
second man turned to look
was enough light for Alfonzo to aim. The barrel was steady, his feet unmoving, eyes locked and he pulled once on the trigger. His mark was hit. The bullet ripped throu
gh his throat sending him sprawling to the ground.
The accuracy of the shot despite his injured arm a testament to his marksmanship.
Alfonzo faded behind a cement mixer listening to the third man’s steps running
across the dry earth.
Alfonzo was devoid of conscience, there was no right or wrong, no heaven or hell only this moment. His mind was trained, listening to the man’s breathing as it grew closer. There was nothing to distract
him,
everything was silent except the man’s footsteps approaching his ultimate demise. He
counted
and at the count of
twenty-three
stepped out from his place of
concealment
and
thrust a powerful strike with his elbow against
the man
’s
throat. H
is target
gurgled
clutching his neck, the gun useless as it dropped from his hand. The
violent
force of the blow
brought his
eyes
wide in
fear.
Inevitably, he’d die from the hit but it was the gun pointed at his face which brought forth lamentation. Mercy did not come
,
instead Alfonzo
’s finger squeezed twice on the trigger and
the
man
’s
weeping
face exploded into mutilated pieces of bloody meat.
Alfonzo remained motionless, watching the corpse fall, feeling nothing except a
slight
breeze
blow across
his neck. Then he realized
this
breeze
came from the
movement
of another
and spun around both hands clasped upon the handle
of his gun. His
finger
touched the trigger,
primed to
fire.
Franky or better, yet, Agent
Christopher
Hernandez
!
The two men stood face-to-face brandishing weapons
. Their eyes locked in assessment, calculating the next course of action. Alfonzo’s gu
n pointed at Christopher’s head;
Christopher’s
weapon
at Alfonzo’s heart.
Alfonzo saw the wound on his adversary’s arm.
It slid in a river over his fingers and descended down the handle forming a small pool of red
at his feet
.
He knew he held the
advantage.
Christopher’s
in
jury happened to be at an inopportune site
near his right forearm.
Christopher was
a
right
y
, however
Alfonzo was ambidextrous; he could use either hand with equal skill and ease.
“I came to warn you. I
’m not
with these men.” Christopher reasoned.
They
stared at one another as the sirens drew closer.
Alfonzo’s finger stayed firm
, “I told you I’d kill you.”
“Yeah, you did
, I’m hoping you changed your mind
.”
Alfonzo lowered his gun, “
To
day I
’ll let
you live.
”
Christopher
nodded
and shoved his gun in its holster
, “
Good
.” He turned to walk away then stopped, “Thanks for saving my life just now. I
’m
out of ammo.”
The ice in
Alfonzo’s
veins warmed. He
tucked the
Glock in his waist
, “You’re welcome!”
CHAPTER THIRTY—
NINE
T
he entire Diaz clan surrounded her hospital bed. They were
a
boisterous
bunch with their
flowers and teddy bears
. T
hey smiled down from every direction
talking excitedly in English and Spanish. She was both
over
joyed and over
whelmed
by their presence. They must have flown in this
afternoon
to see for themselves she was okay but
it’s
Sal’s happy face which elicited tears of joy.
He climbed up on a chair and stroked her arm saying sweet child things such as ‘
don’t be sad mommy
you’ll get
better
,
’ when in truth she couldn’t be happier!
Last night Alfonzo slipped out while she slept and she hadn’t seen or heard from him since. She worried but hid her sadness from them all, wondering if he’d gone to Italy or slipped from her life for good. Last night he looked so different, as if a part of him was lost and when he kissed her good-night it seemed more of a
farewell. –But she said nothing instead she
sat forward and hugged her son tight whispering, “
I missed you hijo. I missed you so much
.”
When visiting hours concluded
she lay there alone watching the night sky
, counting the planes occasionally soaring overhead.
The
y were unnecessarily monitoring her for a few days and she suspected Alfonzo insisted upon it. The fetus was fine, she had a minor contusion on her leg and that was the extent of it. Sure, she experienced nausea, who wouldn’t after being shot at then getting tossed in the air like a ragdoll? No, this was Alfonzo’s handiwork, he didn’t want her going home and she knew why. The entire incident saturated the news channels. LOCAL BUSINESSMAN AND WIFE SURVIVE ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT
. However, several guards at their home did not. She felt awful.
She turned on her side and closed her eyes. Alfonzo would not desert her. He always said, “Trust your gut,” and she did. It said he loved her and would return. She slept believing this, dreaming
it true because without her husband
the vibrant colors of her life would fade to gray.