“That reminds me,” Sonny Vegas says, and clicks his fingers so that one of Lombardo’s guards steps forward with a flat blue box. “I brought these special for you, Don Vicario, our new Blue Luna Lux chocolates.” His man sets the box down on the table, and Sonny slides it down toward Vicario. “Enjoy them with the coffee when it gets here, eh? My compliments.” He stands, and gestures to the other West Coasters. “Come on, boys, let's have a word in private and leave the old guard to their own discussions.”
They file quickly out of the room, followed by Lombardo, and seem to be stampeding down the stairwell, judging by the noise they make outside. What the hell are they—
And then Finch grabs my hand, hard. He’s staring fixedly at the chocolates on the table, dawning recognition on his face, as Carmine Vicario draws the box towards him, plucking at the lid.
Finch takes a deep breath, but I already know what he’s going to shout.
I throw myself at him yelling, “Everyone get down!”
But it’s too late.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Luca
Idon't lose consciousness; the room is big enough that the blast dissipates before it gets to me. I'm lying half on top of Finch. He’s face down, but as I kick away a hand grasping blindly at my ankle, I see him shake his head and try to get up on his hands and knees. I stumble up and pull him out of the room, grabbing a gun from one of the unconscious guards on my way.
There’s no one outside, but alarms are ringing everywhere. I push Finch into what I judge to be the safest corner, outside the door of the now-destroyed room and furthest away from the stairs. I crouch down next to him to check him over.
His eyes are wide and puzzled. “Are we alive?”
“We are.” He has no obvious injuries. “Come on, baby bird. Time to get out of here.”
“Wait.” He grabs me.
I hear it then. People in that room we just got out of, calling for help.
Shit.
“We need to go,” I say, but Finch’s mouth is set. I know that look of his. “We need to go,” I say again, and he just stares at me, those green-gold eyes that make me do things I shouldn’t do. “Alright,” I say grimly, and press the gun into his hand. “Stay here. Shoot anyone who comes up those stairs, or out of the elevators for that matter, but don’t move from here.”
“Be careful,” he says, fear in his eyes. “Maybe weshouldjust—”
“I’m the proverbial cockroach,” I tell him, and kiss him hard. The groans and cries are louder now. “I’ll be back with you in a minute. Just remember what I showed you about aiming the gun. Be cool and keep your hands steady. Can you do that?” His hands are still pink from the burns of the bomb blast, but they don’t seem to pain him as he takes the safety off the gun.
He clenches his jaw and nods. Then he gives a mournful glance at my Armani, the suit he bought me specially for this meeting. “So long, Giorgio,” he sighs. “Okay, Boss. I’m on lookout.”
I give him a scorching kiss. “I love you.”
“Same.”
He watches as I slip carefully back into the meeting room. The guards who were at my end of the room are coming to, sitting up, standing even, only minor injuries. The force of a bomb hidden in a chocolate box couldn't have been much, but then, it only had a few intended targets. I pick my way over the injured to where I last saw Carmine Vicario, but the man's long gone. I don't look at him for long, his ruined face the stuff of nightmares. There's blood and smoke everywhere, fire igniting across the carpet.
Jimmy Giuliano is dead as well. He was sitting too close to Vicario. He’s slumped back in his chair, eyes wide and sightless, his torso a mess.
Joe Alessi, on the other side of the table, is trying to pull himself up, blood all over his face, a dazed look in his eyes. Rossi, next to him, is trying to help him to his feet, but both of them are too weak and keep pulling each other back down.
I vault over the table and pull Rossi upright first, then hoist Alessi onto my back. Luckily he’s on the small side, but he weighs enough that I have to bend double. “Move!” I snap at Rossi, and he begins a stumbling path out of the room.
When we get out to the hallway, Finch is still there and the rest of the men from the meeting room are scattering, some making for the elevators, although Finch is shouting at them not to be so foolish, and others are barging down the stairwell. Gunfire starts almost immediately from the stairs, and I deposit Alessi on the floor, asking Rossi, “ Do you have a gun?” He shakes his head. “The ambulance will be on its way already, and the fire department. You two, stay here with Finch. I need to go back in and see if anyone else is alive.”
“Why the fuck did you save us?” Rossi coughs.
I give a huff of laughter. “Hey, we’re all New Yorkers, right?”
“It's only Clemenza left in there,” Alessi wheezes. “Leave him. Unless you go put a bullet in his ugly face.”
Rossi shrugs at me. “Better for all of us if he's taken out of the picture.”
