BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
We’d assumed it would happen, which is why Ciro and I were standing on either side of the door.
Don Amato – or whoever had the gun – was firing blindly. No lights to see by.
The chance that he would hit us was pretty small, as long as we didn’t stand in the fuckin’ doorway.
Not to mention I had a nice human shield in front of me, just in case.
All we had to do was wait for the bullets to run out.
Which they did.
BANG! BANG –
Click.
The idiot must’ve had a revolver with only six bullets.
I pushed Luciano in front of me and forced him into the room.
Don Amato was standing at the far end of the bedroom, a revolver in his hand. Anemptyrevolver.
He was a fat little fuck in silk pajamas, with a mostly bald head and a bad combover that was currently sticking up in all directions. In the night vision, the sickly green of his face matched his panicked look.
To my right was a big four-poster bed with rumpled sheets. I knew a woman was crouched down behind it on the opposite side from me, because I could see the curlers in her hair just over the top of the mattress.
“Hey Amato – I can seeyoubecause I’ve got night vision goggles on,” I snarled. “Now put down the revolver, or I’m gonna spray your son’s brains all over the fuckin’ room.”
The woman shrieked behind the bed.
“QUIET!” Amato shouted at her, then slowly bent his knees and eased the gun towards the ground. “I’m putting it down…”
There was aclunkas the gun hit the hardwood floor. Then he straightened back up, his hands in the air.
“Go over and get in bed,” I ordered. “And tell your wife to get in beside you.”
“Adelina, do what he says,” Amato said as he blindly felt his way over to the bedframe.
The woman hesitantly stood up and climbed up onto the mattress. She was a pudgy 50-something woman in a long nightgown, and she looked terrified.
I kicked Luciano in the back of one knee, forcing him to the ground. He collapsed with a grunt to the floor.
“Who are you?” Amato said as he crawled into bed.
“Cesare Caproni.”
The fat man’s expression turned hopeless, like he knew his fate was sealed. “You’re that young buck making trouble for the rest of theCamorra.”
“That’s me.”
“Is my son there?”
“He is.” I poked Luciano in the head with my gun. “Say hello.”
“Papa, I’m sorry!” he said frantically.
“Piezza di merda,”Amato snarled. “You sold usout?!”
