Mob Boss 4: Romancing Trina Gabrini (42 page)

“Fran?”

“What’s wrong with you, Reno?” Fran’s voice
said.
 
“You’re scaring me.”

Reno closed his eyes and exhaled.
 
“Yeah, well, stay scared.
 
Don’t leave the PaLargio for nothing,
you
 
hear
me?
 
Stay put.
You and Dirty
both.”
 
Then he handed the phone
to Tommy.
 
“Beef up security. Triple it.”

“Here or there?”

“Both,” Reno said and Tommy got on it.
 

Reno then began heading for his office.
 
Trina followed him.

“What is it, Ree?”

Reno stood behind his desk, and then unlocked
a bottom drawer.
 
He pulled out a
Magnum.
 
“They want to fuck around with
me,” he said, “then
it’s
high time I fuck around with
them.”

Trina touched Reno’s arm.
 
He looked at her hand and then looked into
her eyes.

“Don’t do anything you’ll hate yourself for
later,” she said.

Reno shook his head. “Too late for that,
Tree,” he said, as he pulled her into his arms, his eyes closed tight.
 
“Way too late for that.”

 
He ate
the last of his steak at his restaurant on the Jersey Shore.
 
It was already closing time, and a couple dozen
patrons were finishing up too.
 
But he
was going slow, taking his time, enjoying his meal as if it was his last.

Then he drained down the last of his port,
belched aloud like the slob he was, and then prepared to stand.

His men, ten strong hanging around the bar and
the front entrance, stood in preparation of his exit.

But they weren’t the only ones standing.
 
All but three of the patrons in the
restaurant stood too.
 
Only they stood
with their guns drawn and fired.
 
To his
amazement, they took out every one of his men.
 
In rapid succession.
 
Monumental carnage in
under
five seconds.
 

The three real patrons hid under their
tables.
 
Because it
wasn’t over.
 
Somehow they sensed
it wasn’t over.
 
And they were
right.
 
Vito Giancarlo tried to stand,
but his bulk and a firm hand slammed him back down into his chair.
 
And they secured the site.

Then Reno came into the room.
 
And he was coming straight for Vito.

“Reno,” Vito said, attempting to smile despite
the carnage.
 
“I was gonna call you,
Reno.
 
I was just about to call you,
godson.
 
I don’t know where he is.
 
I don’t know
nothing
,
Reno!”

But it didn’t matter.
 
Reno now knew what he should have known all
along.
 
Vito didn’t know a damn
thing.
 
He never did.
 
He prided himself on not knowing.
 
Drago was running the show now.
 
And Vito didn’t know a damn thing.
 
Because he didn’t give a
damn.
 
He never did.
 
Just as long as the
collateral damage didn’t blow back on him.
 
But now, Reno decided, he was the collateral
damage.

Reno sat in the chair across from Vito.

“I was gonna call you,” Vito said again.

“Where’s Johnny?” Reno asked.

“How should I know?”

“Look around you, Vito,” Reno said.
 
“Does it look like I’m playing?
 
Where’s Johnny?”

Vito looked at his men.
 
All dead.
 
He frowned.
 
“Vegas,” he said.
 
Then he looked
at Reno and smiled.
 
“He’s in Vegas,
Reno.
 
At your
PaLargio.”
 
Vito began
laughing.
 
“And you know what’s really
crazy?
 
He’s staying there as a
guest.
 
Right next to
Fran’s place.”

Reno jumped from his seat and was ready to give
orders to get Vegas on the phone and confirm security again.
 
But then he looked at Vito, and saw that look
in his eyes.
 
He knew that motherfucker.
 
He knew him well.
 
They were fucking with him again.
 
They were still fucking with him.

He began frisking Vito.
 
“What are you doing?” Vito asked.
 
“What’s the matter with you?”

Reno retrieved his gun, and then his cell
phone.
 
And threw the
phone to one of his men.
 
He told
his man to search for Vito’s home number, and to dial that number.

“Why would he dial my number?
 
I’m here, Reno.
 
What’s wrong with you?”

“Put it on speaker,” Reno ordered and his man
did just that.

The phone began ringing.

“I told you where he was,” Vito said.
 
“I told you---”

Then the phone was answered.
 
By Drago.
 

Reno’s man killed the call and looked at
Vito.
 
All of Reno’s men looked at
Vito.
 
What was he playing at, their
faces seemed to say.

But Reno knew exactly what game they were
playing.
 
Because they
were playing him.
 
That was the
game.
 
They figured they knew Reno like a
book.
 
They called him predictable, Drago
said he was so predictable, and they were playing the odds.

That was why Reno had to play against the
odds.

That was why Reno had to now and forevermore
play against type.
 

He pulled out his revolver, and put a bullet
in Vito’s brains.
    

“That fucker!”
Drago screamed when he heard the news.
 
“That was my father!
 
That was his godfather!
 
What was he thinking?
 
What has he done?”
 

And Drago grabbed his suitcase and began
running down the stairs.
 
He was in Vito’s
house in Jersey.
 
He was in his father’s
home because he knew Reno would never dream to look for him there.
 
Not Reno.
 
Not Mister Reliable.
 
News had
just come.
 
But it had come nearly three
hours after the hit.
 
Vito was dead, they
told him.
 
Reno, of all people, had
killed Vito Giancarlo.

Drago’s plan was to torment Reno.
 
That was the plan.
 
He would make Reno feel what he felt when his
baby brother died.
 
But Reno was tormenting
him?
 
Everybody was moved.
 
His wife, his child, they were all moved to
safe houses.
 
And it would be Drago
against Reno.
 
Drago never dreamed, not
ever, that Reno would harm his own godfather.
 
But he had told Reno the truth.
 
Vito Giancarlo, he had told him, was his father.
 
He showed Reno his weakness.
 
And Reno exploited it.
 

Then his cell phone began ringing as he was
rushing along the long corridor.
 
He
answered it quickly, especially when he saw that it was Reno.
 
“You’re dead, Reno Gabrini!
 
You’re dead!”

“
Who’s
predictable
now, Drag?”

“You’re dead!”

“I want my son back.
 
And I want him back unharmed.”

“I’ll bring him back in nine hundred pieces,
you cocksucker!”
 
Drago shouted.
 
“I’ll bring him back!”

“If you do, and if I don’t see my son in
exactly one hour from now, your lovely, beloved child will be next.”

And then Reno hung up.

And Drago stopped in his tracks.
 
He’s bluffing, Drago thought.
 
She’s in hiding.
 
He has her in Canada for crying out loud!
 
Reno wouldn’t harm a child.

But his heart was beginning to sink.
 
Reno wouldn’t harm his godfather, either, but
he had.
 
He had!

Then his cell phone rang again.
 
It was her.
 
It was her number.

“Pam, are you all right?” he asked
hysterically into the phone.
 
“You’re
okay, Pam?
 
Tell me you’re okay!”

“She will be,” a male’s voice said on the
phone.
 
“If you do your
part.”

Drago’s heart dropped.
 
“Who are you?”

“It’s Sal Luca, prick,” he said.
 
“You know me, Drag.
 
I’m Tommy’s baby brother.”

Drago’s heart slammed against his chest.
 
Reno’s people had her.

“Say hey to your daddy, little girl,” Sal
said.

Then a woman’s voice was heard on the
phone.
 
“He’s serious, Daddy.
 
He’s serious!”

Then Sal was back on the line.
 
“Deliver Jimmy, and she lives.
 
Any monkey
business,
and she goes the way Vito went.”

Drago threw the phone across the corridor and
ran down the stairs.
 
He ran as if he did
it for a living.
 

Reno sat quietly in the back seat of the
rented car.
 
Two of his men sat up
front.
 
The other men had already visited
the perimeter of Vito’s house, and disabled any resistance.
 

His cell phone rang.

“We’ve got him,” Tommy said on the line, and
Reno visibly sighed relief.
 
“You were
right.
 
They never took him from his
grandmother’s property.
 
They hid him
right here in Crane, in a shed in the back of his grandmother’s abandoned
house.
 
He’s okay.
 
You were right, Reno.”

Then Drago came tearing out of Vito’s
house.
 

“Call Sal Luca,” Reno said.
 
“Tell him to stand down.
 
And call Trina.
 
Tell her I’m coming home.
 
I’ll talk to you later, Tommy,” Reno added,
and killed the call.
 

Then he put on his gloves, got out of his car,
and walked across the street to the driveway.
 
Vito hid in plain sight.
 
No
electronic fences, no apparent security.
 
He pretended, as most mobsters did, that he was an average
joe
.

Reno had no such pretenses.
 
Not anymore.
 
Drago didn’t see him coming until he was upon him.
 
Drago had opened the car door and slung his
luggage in the passenger seat.
 
As he
moved to get in, Reno pushed him in.
 

“Reno!” Drago said.
 
“I’ll take you to him, Reno.
 
You can’t kill me.
 
I’m the only one who knows where he is.”

“Funny,” Reno said, his gun now at Drago’s
temple, “I predicted you would say that.”
 

“That’s Katrina?” Drago said, looking over
Reno’s shoulder, and Reno hesitated only slightly.
 
But it was enough for Drago to dislodge
Reno’s weapon from his hand and pull out his own gun.
 
Reno wasn’t able to retrieve his weapon, so
he grabbed Drago’s.
 
They fought for
control, with the barrel pointing, at various times, at each one of them.
 
Until the gun fired and
Drago slumped down.

Reno, breathing heavily, tossed the gun on
Drag, picked up his own, and walked back to his waiting automobile.

Vito didn’t want a mob war, and Reno ensured
that there wouldn’t be one.
 
Nobody was
left to fight.

Trina hadn’t slept a wink since Reno walked
out of their home.
 
Even after Jimmy’s
safe return, she still couldn’t rest until she saw Reno’s face.
 
She could barely contain her anguish.
 
Until a sweep of lights caught the outside of
the house, and a car drove up.
 
Trina
didn’t stand up, or run to the door, although she wanted to do both.
 
She, instead, just sat there as the door
opened, and Reno walked inside.