Well, I’d be damned. It was the first time I’d used the term. You bet we were in a relationship. If she thought she was returning toher life in Vermont, she had another think coming. Although I’d come to realize how much I enjoyed being in the little town and around the people she’d become fond of. They rocked in a world full of phonies.
“Right this way, Mr. Smith,” the guard told me.
Smith wasn’t simply the use of a generic name as private detectives would do in a C-rated suspense movie. Smith was the name of Ivan’s attorney, fake as shit but effective as hell.
The real Mr. Smith was currently unemployed. If he was a good boy throughout the mission and beyond, he might live. If not? Well, there was a special place in hell waiting for him.
I carried my briefcase as would any good attorney while headed toward a communal section of the prison. As soon as I was inside and after the prisoner was brought to visit with his ‘attorney,’ I’d have the room and surrounding area all to myself. I’d take more time with the fucking asshole except I had a plane to catch.
His son might be in hiding, something we’d need to deal with later, but after the Pakhan was removed from this earth, the minions pledging fealty would scatter like cockroaches. We’d taken advantage of our alliance with the Cosa Nostra, using them as backup under guise of them gaining additional territory. Which we would honor.
We were honorable men after all.
I was taken to what I’d consider a very nice room, one that had the typical table with metal shackles waiting, but also housing an expensive coffee machine in a small kitchen equipped with a refrigerator. In case anyone was thirsty during the long conversations.
Once settled inside, I placed my briefcase on the table, one that until recently had been owned by the real Mr. Smith. Then I decided on a cup of coffee. Why not? If only I’d thought about bringing a flask with me. A touch of whiskey would be delicious.
Oh, well.
Fleur and I would have a toast on the plane.
Seconds after I’d dropped the pod of coffee into the Keurig machine, the door was opened behind me.
There were no words from the guards bringing Ivan into the room. He wasn’t even shackled to the table at my request. However, we were left very much alone with assurances we wouldn’t be bothered.
I took my time preparing my coffee, remaining silent.
“Took you long enough to get here,” Ivan finally said. “I’ve made arrangements for someone to get into the hospital. That Cajun fucker needs to die. You should get out of town for a few days. The shit will hit the fan. I’ve ordered a hit on the entire family.”
After stirring my coffee, I turned around. “Oh, you have. I guess I’ll need to make a few phone calls to my family.”
The element of surprise was evident. Especially when he threw back his chair until it slammed against the wall while he stood.
I kept a wry smile on my face as I took a sip of coffee. Not bad. Fleur had been bugging me about getting a new coffee machine. Maybe a little present after our return from New York.
He quickly recovered, sneering at me with a level of amusement indicating he thought I’d made a huge mistake in coming tosee him. However, the fact he remained right where he was indicated at least a modicum of fear.
The tension was palpable and I purposely allowed two full minutes of ticking time. That was all he could take.
“What the fuck do you want?” he gritted out.
“That’s easy. For you to pay for your sins. Now, I have the recording of you stating you want my family dead, but I really don’t care about that. As we speak, your places of business are being destroyed, what little they might offer my family taken, and your people? Well, we’ll see just how loyal they truly are to a pig like you, one who doesn’t value his people.”
He grinned as if the joke was on me. “You have no idea how powerful I am.”
“Oh, I know that you think you’re extremely powerful. That’s been your downfall. You forgot the unwritten rule about attacking an enemy.”
“And what’s that?” he snarled and it was obvious he believed the methods of security and protection he’d paid good money to have in place would save him.
Old fool.
His time was finished.
The rest of his family would suffer in the wake of his decisions based on greed and hunger for additional power.
“You never fuck with their spouses or children.” I took another sip of coffee, enjoying both the flavor and temperature of the brew. But I was finished toying with him. It used to be I thoroughly enjoyed watching some lowlife suffer. There weremethods of torture that would turn a man into a blubbering child begging for his life. Our father had taught us well, using methods learned from his father and grandfather.
Something he’d hoped I’d pass down to my children.
