There are no radio signals in this tunnel, so it was decided we’d plant couriers outside to relay messages with the main assault force. We’d rely on them at least until we breached the castle grounds.
“They’ve begun the assault on the man gate,” the courier reveals.
Luciano looks at me. “We have to hurry.”
I nod.
We pick up our pace and reach a locked metal gate that spans the height and width of the tunnel.
One of our men steps forward and retrieves a pair of wire cutters from a backpack. He cuts through the lock, quietly opens the door, and steps aside.
Luciano and I hurry forward. We can see an opening ahead. I hear gunfire in the distance.
We exchange a look and increase our pace.
Luciano emerges from the tunnel and takes out a Rizzo guard waiting just outside. A second guard spins toward him, bringing his weapon to bear, but I shoot that one in the temple.
There are no more Rizzo men here so we continue forward, racing onto the castle grounds, our small army following just behind. People are running all over the place. It looks like we interrupted some sort of formal gathering: the men are wearing suits and tuxedos, the women dresses.
And then I realize.
A wedding. It has to be a wedding.
That fucker! He only waited a day to marry her?
There are more Rizzo guards interspersed among the throng. They’re easy to pick out, courtesy of the black jumpsuits they wear, and I concentrate my fire on them, as do my brothers.
The Amatos aren’t so discriminate: they open fire on each and every member of the fleeing crowd, regardless of whether they’re armed or not.
I hope I’m not too late. While I have no qualms with making Angela a widow, the thought of The Cleaver wrapping his greasy arms around her and shoving his tongue down her throat for the kiss pisses me off. I start to imagine all the terrible things he must have done to his bride-to-be last night, and that anger transforms into unmitigated rage. It fuels me, and I start to kill indiscriminately like the Amatos. I want each and every one of these fuckers to pay for what they did to her.
Heavy fire comes from behind a fountain ahead, and we’re forced to duck behind a series of bushes next to a cobblestone path.
“Some of the Rizzos have regrouped behind that fountain!” Luciano informs me.
“Everyone all right?” I ask my brothers.
“Never better!” Enrico replies. “Nothing like a good romp to get the blood pumping!”
I carefully peer past my cover and take a moment to get my bearings. I realize that the fountain is in a square of sorts. Trees and shrubs surround it, providing good cover for a potential outflanking team.
I glance at Salvatore Amato, who’s ducked behind a bush not far from me. “Take some of your men and circle the square, using the foliage for cover. Let us know when you’re in an outflanking position.”
He looks at me and I see anger flare across his features, like he’s pissed that I’m giving him an order. But the anger quickly fades, replaced by those cool, calculating eyes. He must realize the sense in what I’m asking, because he nods. Good, he won’t let pride interfere with sound strategy.
“I want half your men, though,” he replies.
“Roberto, Enrico, go with him,” I order. “Bring your men.”
Salvatore leaves with my designated brothers, and the group starts to circle the square, dodging between the shrubs and trees along the outskirts, slowly making their way toward the opposite side of the fountain.
While waiting, I scan the grounds past the fountain, taking note of the different outbuildings. The front gate to the estate has been breached: Amatos from the main attack force are firing from behind the cover of SUVs. Rizzo defenders are scattered across the driveway, pinned behind their own vehicles and various outbuildings.
Closer at hand I spot a stable, and not far from it, an open-air chapel supported by a colonnade, next to a beach. Several of the chapel’s benches are knocked over, which tells me that most of the people I saw earlier came from there.
And then I spot a man in a tuxedo straddling a woman in a wedding dress next to the altar… I can’t see her face from this angle, but it has to be Angela. When the man glances to the left, I recognize the prominent nose of The Cleaver.
Found you!
