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He laughed. “You do that, and I’ll kick your ass myself.”
I grinned. “Like that’s even an option.”
“What, you getting thrown back in San Vittore?”
“No, you kicking my ass.”
He laughed again, then grew serious. “All I need to know is that you’ll be there when I get out. You, me, and my brothers… we’re going to build something together. Something new… something BIG.”
“I’ll be here,” I promised.
“Good. That’s all I needed to hear; I can do the next four months standing on my head.”
We talked some more, and then I eventually gave the phone back to Niccolo.
Dario sounded in good spirits, but I still said a silent prayer for his safety.
Help him stay alive…
Please.
119
Weeks passed. I talked to Dario every few days when he called his family from prison, and his spirits remained high despite the dangers he faced.
Since his release was only a few months away, no one was planning to physically go see him. Dario was fine with that – he told me he wanted everybody training relentlessly. Then we could have one huge party to celebrate both his release and his brothers’ hard work.
As for the training, it only increased in intensity.
Like they say in basic training: The only easy day was yesterday.
I started them on target practice out in the olive orchards – pistols, assault rifles, and sniper rifles. I began instructing them in hand-to-hand combat like I’d taught Dario. And I kept up the physical conditioning and training them to work as a unit.
The men began to coalesce into a real team – especially the younger ones. The older ones were more half-hearted about it, but at least they were making strides.
The brothers in particular impressed me. They pushed themselves harder than the men who worked for them as though to provide a good example.
Leonardo noticed. The old man would come out and watch the training sometimes and nod approvingly. More than once, he told me in private, “You’re doing an amazing job, Lars. I’m so grateful Dario brought you to us. Thank you for everything you’re doing for our family.”
“Thank you for giving me the chance, sir.”
He would laugh, give me a hug, and pat my back.
For the first time in my life, I started to get the sense of what it would have been like to have a father.
When my first paycheck came through, I immediately reimbursed Gunnar for the 5000 euros he’d paid to my lawyer, plus another 5000 for all the collect phone calls over the years – and for just being there for me.
We talked occasionally on the phone, and he seemed really happy that I’d found a job – and a new home.
My heartache about Rachel began to slowly fade… or at least lessen in intensity. I only took an hour at night to fall asleep. She was the first thing I thought of when I woke every morning… but it wasn’t always with grief. Sometimes I even smiled as I imagined her lying beside me in bed.
But no matter what, I wore the ring around my neck everywhere I went.
I never took it off, and I never forgot the lesson I’d learned:
When you have the shot…
Take the shot.
