A day later, in the wee hours of the morning, a quiet calm hung over the modest two-story house on the Mississippi Delta.
Inside the house, Dominic Gabrini, Junior, the second-oldest child of Reno and Trina Gabrini, was asleep in his bed. A woman was in bed beside him, a young cashier that worked at the local Piggly Wiggly, and she was fast asleep too. That calmness outside permeated the inside and a quietness hung over that bedroom just as prominently. Dommi’s heavy snoring, and the woman’s light snoring, was all that could be heard.
Until all hell broke loose.
Dommi, still half-asleep, suddenly opened his eyes when he thought he heard what sounded like his front door being kicked in. But when he heard his two live-in bodyguards downstairs taking incoming from those intruders, he jerked up, jumped up, and then quickly grabbed his Glock from out of his nightstand drawer as the sound of running feet could be heard rushing up his stairs.
The woman woke up too. “Get under the bed!” he whispered to her.
“What?”
“Get under thegotdamn bed!” he said to her in that stern way that made clear he wasn’t playing with her. And then Dommi, his muscular body naked from head to toe, fell on the floor on his back beside the bed with his gun pointed at whichever motherfucker came for him first.
And as soon as they kicked his bedroom door open, he started firing. He took out one, two, three, and was about to takeout the fourth gunman until four was accompanied by five, six, seven, eight and nine. And they were yelling for him to drop it.
He knew there was no way he was taking out that army of men. So he dropped it.
And before he could lift his hands in surrender, they swarmed him, grabbed him up, and carted him away so fast that by the time that young lady beneath the bed had peeped out, they were already out of that house, in their vans, and gone.
She was trembling in fear. She thought she was going to have a heart attack just stepping over those dead bodies to get downstairs.
But she knew who to call.
CHAPTER TEN
Last night was a crazy night for Reno as a massive flash mob of young people tried to take over his high-end jewelry stores with a grab-and-go, while another mob was tearing up his casino with fight after fight after fight as a distraction. It was so bad that Reno had to get in the middle of the melee. It was so bad that Reno had to call in Vegas Police, which he never liked to do, to give them a helping hand.
But what all that meant was that he didn’t make it home at all last night and Trina, he knew, was pissed.
Even that next morning, that aftermath had him flying by the seat of his trousers too and the best he could do was to hustle upstairs and see her before she left for work, but she had already gone. He tried to phone her twice after that, but she wasn’t answering his calls.
“Gotdammit Trina!” he yelled out loud as he slammed his desk phone down. But his office was so much its usual chaotic-ness,times two, that nobody heard him. All of his aides were busy fielding calls from worried jewelers that had their merchandise in the PaLargio stores, and other casino patrons who claimed they were among those attacked last night. All of that in addition to the acts already booked inside the PaLargio entertainment complex that were afraid that a mob could disrupt their shows and were requesting additional security, to agents who wanted their performers to be given extra compensation as a just in case, to future acts who wanted to cancel. It was a nightmare.
Reno plopped down in his chair and tried to get at least a moment’s break from the action. But the head of Legal came into his office and up to his desk. “We got a problem, Reno.”
“Tell my ass something I don’t know, Jeremy.”
“This is different.”
As if Reno needed any new issues. “What?”
“Those casino patrons from last night have hired a lawyer. A class-action lawsuit is underway.”
Reno frowned.“Already?”
“Those ambulance chasers jumped on it, and those patrons were more-than-happy to participate.”
“Damn lawyers.”
“I’m a lawyer too, Reno.”
“Then fuck you too!”
Jeremy smiled. He knew Reno too long and too well.
“What are we talking if we settle?” Reno asked him.
“Depends on how many end up in the class. Of course, our cameras will have to prove that they were there and were, in fact, jumped on. But if it’s proven, it’s going to be north of ten to twenty million easy.”
