I realize I’m going to die here beneath this altar. Cut to pieces by some mafia don’s lunatic son.
I turn my head to look at the ocean waves one last time. So near. So far.
I almost made it, Massimo. Almost.
Guess I’ll see you soon.
32
Massimo
Ifollow Luciano through the old tunnel. With me are Stefano, Roberto and Enrico, along with ten of our men. Everyone is armed, carrying either a rifle or handgun. We have the weapons pointed toward the ground at the moment, ready to raise them at the first sign of trouble. Some of us hold flashlights as well.
Salvatore and Leonardo Amato are also with us, along with ten armed men of their own. They’re here partly to bolster our numbers, and partly to ensure we live up to our end of the bargain. They probably have orders to capture or kill us when this is done.
My brothers and our men know this, which is why tensions are so high between us. Expecting a betrayal at any moment, we’re casting nervous gazes at each other just as often as we’re scanning the tunnel ahead for enemies.
“This is a bad idea,” Roberto says to me softly. “Both sides are like powder kegs waiting to go off. How are we supposed to concentrate on killing the enemy when all we can think about is killing each other?”
“When the fighting starts you’ll change your tune,” I assure him. “We need all the guns we can get.”
“Sure, at least until those guns turn on us,” Roberto snorts.
He isn’t entirely wrong. I guess a part of me hoped that by doing this it would help bring our families closer together, maybe win me some brownie points in the eyes of Angela’s father. But all it’s doing is driving us farther apart.
Wait until the fighting starts,I remind myself.And we start saving each other’s lives. There’s nothing like a showdown against a common enemy to bring people together.
I hope I’m right, and that this doesn’t end badly for my brothers and I. But most importantly I hope Angela is all right. I’m more than willing to die for her at this moment.
I just hope my brothers don’t have to die, too.
“What the hell is this anyway?” Enrico asks, speaking at a normal volume so both families can hear. “It’s not a storm drain. Not an aqueduct. Not even a culvert. It’s like the castle designers purposely designed a backdoor.”
“That’s exactly what they did,” Luciano agrees. “It’s an old sally port the owners of the castle installed back in the 16th century so they’d have a way to escape the sieges.”
“How did you find out about it?” Salvatore asks suspiciously. Of the two Amato brothers with us, he seems the most dangerous. His eyes are cruel, calculating, hinting at a cold intelligence, and he moves with the grace of a trained assassin.
Luciano gives the Amato a cool look. “Back when I was a Rizzo associate I used to smuggle drugs in and out this way to avoid the police, who were staking out the estate. This was before the Rizzos hired on a bunch of corrupt cops.”
“This was how long ago?” Salvatore presses.
“About four years,” Luciano replies. “Trust me, I hate the Rizzos just as much as anyone here.”
“Good,” Salvatore says. “Because if you betray us, you’ll be the first to die.”
Luciano’s face darkens.
My own grip tightens on the pistol I’m carrying.
How dare that fucker talk to my brother like that.
The tension in the air just quadrupled.
I hear hurried footsteps echoing through the tunnel from behind. Everyone turns around. Weapons are raised.
It seems to be an Amato, because Salvatore, Leonardo and his men lower their weapons.
“It’s our courier,” Salvatore announces.
