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“So, you guys want to head out?” I asked.
“Well, I haven't told them that we are leaving yet, but once I do, then yeah. Unless you want to...?”
“No, you go ahead, but I’ll tag along with you guys.”
Fisher looked at me, with concern across his face. “Angelo, you will always be the head of this family, but you were and are still like a son to me. I understand you want to look brave for your family, but this is not the place for you to be. You are injured, rest up and heal. You would only make us worry if you come along with us, so please.”
“It’s not a problem,” I replied. “I will be fine; I can handle myself.”
“Not in another gunfight. What kind of monster would I be to put you in danger when you are still recovering? That would make me as bad as Vasquez. Rest for now and let us take care of our region. When you are recovered and the time comes, you will put the bullet in Vasquez yourself. Don’t let the rage control you, not now. Rest, please,” said Fisher.
But it was not rage controlling me, it was curiosity. There was something he was not telling me, and I had to find out what it was. I knew the seventh district like the back of my hand. I had made it my personal mission to have a mind map of all the places under my protection, to know the best routes to the business and all of the buildings around the area. This allowed me to be an expert in my domain. The building he had spoken about did not exist; there were no warehouses of the kind—unless it had been built in the week I had been stuck in my bed.
I nodded in agreement and watched as Fisher barked orders at our men. They quickly agreed and rushed out to the cars, got in, and pulled away. I gave them five minutes, grabbed a gun for myself, and went into the garage. I jostled out a hidden panel in the wall to initiate the trackers on all my vehicles. Once it was up, I could track the cars using my phone.
I only needed one vehicle, as I was sure they were all heading to the same place, so I selected the one Fisher was riding in.
I got in a car of my own and followed them, giving myself two blocks between where I was and where I was following the car. Somehow, they seemed to be heading in the exact opposite direction of the seventh district, and instead, they were heading for the bridge. My heart sank once I realized that they were going across into Vasquez’s territory. I hit the gas and picked up speed, chasing after them. But by the time I had crossed the bridge, the engine had died, and the tracker turned off.
Fisher had said they were heading to an abandoned warehouse in the seventh district. The seventh on our side was one of the city’s shipping areas, lined with containers and trucks and other equipment used to load and unload the ships from the harbor. If he was being truthful about everything, then the warehouse should have been close to the water. I kept to the city's shoreline, driving all the way up the coast, hoping that I would find the cars in one of the many warehouses that lined the shore.
But nothing came up. After twenty minutes of driving, I noticed that the tracker had come back on, and the car was spotted a couple of blocks away from me. I hit the brakes and spun the car around, wincing in pain as I accidentally pressed on my fresh injury. But if they were here to make trouble with Vasquez, I would at least have to make sure that they were okay. As I made it around the last turn, I saw cars drive off into the distance, and from the tracker, I could tell that it was Fisher and my men.
I parked the car at a safe distance from the place they had just left, and I watched as multiple other cars drove to the scene. One of the people who stepped out of the vehicles… was Vasquez. He screamed something in Spanish, and his men rushed into the building.
After a few minutes, I watched in horror as they began bringing out bodies from the building. I counted thirteen people who had been most certainly been killed, and seven who had been badly wounded. They were all loaded into the car and sent to whatever physician they must have had on hand.
That was when it clicked. The reason our men were so beat up wasn’t because they had been defending our assets.No. My men had been going across the bridge to Vasquez’s people and slaughtering them. Some of the dead were young boys, probably innocents, who were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
I swore, tightening my hands against the wheel of the vehicle. They had done the one thing that I had tried to keep my family from doing. They had gone out and killed mercilessly, and I was sure in that moment that it had all been Fisher’s idea.
I hit the gas and sped off, heading back to my turf. The car had barely stopped when I got out of it, rushing into the garage to see Fisher and the men who he had left with chatting with smiles on their faces. I looked around at them, and they all went silent as they noticed me. The blood and smell of gunpowder were still fresh on their bodies. Fisher got to his feet and walked up to me with a big smile.
“Hey! Boss, it’s done! We took care of it! That was the last one, and we won’t ever get bothered by thosescumever again.”
“Where did you say you went?” I asked, grinding my teeth together to hold back a fit of rage.
“Seventh; a warehouse off the-”
“So, you didn’t just cross over into Vasquez’s turf and murder thirteen people? You didn’t just raid some of his buildings across the water and slaughter people like animals?” I demanded, raising my voice.
“Angelo, calm down,” Fisher began. “Yeah, we went there, but you have to understand-”
“Understand what? Fisher, how could you? You know what my father stood for! You know what this family has stood for! For decades, now! You would throw all of that away? Forwhat?”
“For all of our brothers who are dead!” Fisher yelled back. “For the time they locked me in a dumpster for hours on end! For Kevin’s son; for Antonio! For Juan! For Dimitri, who lost a fuckingeye! For all our businesses which we’ve lost because you were too scared to make a move! We have been keeping them at bay since you were shot, and we have not lost a single life or business. We haven’t even been attacked! Not once, because we have always hit first!”
“This is not the way, Fisher,” I replied, looking at him with despair.
“Well, it’s about time that it became the way, Angelo! I loved your father, and I appreciate all that Preston has done for me, for this city, bless his soul… But this pacifist shit is what got him killed, and it’s killing all of us too!” Fished turned around, looking at my men. “We hit first and leave them scrambling to patch themselves together, and they won’t have any ground to stand on when they try to attack us again.”
“And then what?”
“What?” Fisher asked, confused.
“What happens next? You give them a week and then attack again, kill more people, then another week, and then you go again? When does it end? What do you think all of this killing will avoid? We would just be going back to the old ways! We are not common criminals… We are the mafia! We are businessmen, and we do not soil our hands with the blood of our enemies. We outsmart them, we show them that we are bigger than them and beat them at any of their games while keeping our hands clean.”
“Angelo,” I turned around and saw Mike limping towards me. “It doesn’t work like that, not now, not with him. Vasquez and his men deserve it, and as much as I love this family, I will not stand back and be treated like this. I will fight for it, and everyone else in this room feels the same way.”
