“What do we do, Alejandro?”
We’ve spotted the cameras that confirmed the suspicions we both naturally have. At this point, pretending to remain unconscious is pointless. If we formulate a plan before our kidnappers return, then all the better. I’m certain they won’t leave us alone for much longer now that we’re awake.
“We wait for now,chica.”
“Do you have any idea who it was?”
“No. Did you recognize anyone?”
“No, not at all. But I saw the hint of a tattoo.”
When I saw the ink protruding from one guy’s shirt, it made my blood run cold. As I look over at Alejandro, I can’t help but wonder if this is about me, and they beat the shit out of him as leverage against me. But then again, this could be entirely about him, and I’m collateral damage.
“What was it?”
“A finger over a pair of lips.”
“Theomertà?”
It doesn’t surprise me that Alejandro knows the symbol for the highly guarded oath men take when they’re being made. Plenty of movies have speculated about the promises sworn and sealed in blood. Some have gotten pretty damn close. Others are ridiculous. The oath varies a little from syndicate to syndicate, but it’s pretty universal for all Mafias.
“Do you think it was Camorra or’Ndrangheta?”
I inhale deeply before I admit my suspicions. “No. My guess isMala del Brenta.”
“Your own family? Don Piero? Your father?”
“I really don’t know. I can’t imagine it’s my father. I just can’t. He’s devoted to Piero and our branch. He’d give his life for our don without a second thought, but I’m confident the only way he’d disobey Piero is if it was my or my mother’s life over anyone else.”
“Could he have made that argument to end the assignment you’re on, and Piero’s punishing him for that?”
“That’s not entirely impossible, but it’s unlikely.”
“Why else would it be aMala del Brenta? It’s not like they have a presence here in the U.S.”
“I know. It’s almost strictly Venetian, and there’re few branches, even if there’re several influential families. Do you think anyone knows what happened yet?”
I change the subject because I’m struggling to wrap my head around recognizing the symbol designed the wayMala delBrentamen get it. I need to think about it more, but I can’t do it out loud. I’ll grow too emotional if I do.
“They absolutely know something’s gone wrong. We told all of them where we were going. If nothing else, Serafina will try to call you, and when she doesn’t get through, she’ll have Carmine call me. When I don’t answer, Salvatore will callTíoEnrique. But before that could even happen, several alarms will have gone off. I activated the tracker on my watch. The moment there was more than just a door dinging the body of our vehicle, an alert went to the guy who heads up our fleet of cars. There’s always a vehicle tracker running too. At the very least, they’ll have our last known location. I can’t tell if there’s any signal in this building for my watch to transmit.”
“Do you think they left anything at the scene? I’d imagine they have cleaners to get rid of the vehicle and your driver.”
“They likely do, but there’s always a chance they left something behind. These men were professionals, but their work was still sloppy. They took too long to knock us out and left blood behind. And then, one of them was careless enough for you to see a tattoo.”
“I’m sure they assume we’ll be dead before we can tell anyone our suspicions.” If I were running this mission, that’s what I would do.
“I’m sure that’s what they think too, but that’s an arrogance that’ll get them killed. You know better than most that you always assume something could go wrong, that your mark could get away, so you leave no distinguishable traces.”
“True. If it’s been a few hours, do you think we’re approaching dawn yet?”
“It’s possible. If only I could see my wrist. It surprises me that they left me with my watch and my belt. They must know one of those accessories is a tracker. They must be confident itisn’t working. I doubt they even bothered to look where it was located.”
“I can tell they took my gun. I assume they took yours. Can you still feel your knives?”
I know he carries one in each pocket. Every syndicate man carries at least one, but most carry two or more. Getting your first knife around fourteen is a rite of passage—your first step into full initiation. Guns are easier to take, but men aren’t thrilled at digging into another guy’s front pockets.
“Yeah. I have both. Dumbasses. They assume I can’t get to them. When they come in, I’ll start working the knots while they’re distracted talking to or beating me. I don’t want them to notice me fidgeting on camera.”
