He nodded. “You know how he is, likes to play with his food first. He’ll drop his guard, and you’ll have your chance. How are you going to do it?”
“Gonna shoot him in the fucking head.”
“And that’s it?” he asked in surprise. “It’s your chance for vengeance. Your chance to make him suffer.” He didn’t share the rest of his thought, but I knew he was thinking of my brother ... who’d died a horrible death.
“I’ve got to think about the living, not the dead. If I see the shot, I’m taking it.” I’d brought my scoped rifle and my automatic rifle, a strap over each shoulder, a bandolier of grenades around my hip. “Let’s move.”
Rocco turned to the few men he had left, and they armed themselves before they headed into the square of the Pantheon.
I took my position at the corner of the building and witnessed the mayhem myself. Hundreds of bodies hung from the top of the Pantheon, all dangling from nooses. The men I’d hanged had been criminals, but when I looked at the people above, men and women, I recognized senators and the mayor ... and their wives.
Can’t wait to kill this son of a bitch.
I watched Darius grab someone by the shoulder and throw him hard across the street in front of the oldest complete monument standing in Rome.
My eyes narrowed when I recognized President Barsetti.
Darius descended upon him. “You’re a traitor to your country, denying the king of Italy his rightful place on the throne. Your emperor is gone, your people have turned on you, and you continue to fight me like you have a chance.”
President Barsetti said nothing as he looked up at Darius, stone faced.
I turned to Rocco. “Go now before he puts that noose around Barsetti’s neck.”
“Bend the fucking knee.” Darius took a step closer before he looked up at the bodies that hung above. “Or become bird food.”
President Barsetti didn’t have to resist, because Rocco fired his automatic rifle into the sky as he stepped into the square with his men. He’d limped and grimaced with me in the hospital, but now, he showed no signs of weakness, ready to draw Darius away from his men so I could take the shot. “You’re not a king, but a fucking terrorist. A plague on your own country and your own people.”
President Barsetti turned to see Rocco, then pulled himself away from Darius, taking the opportunity to get the fuck out of there.
Darius hesitated as he looked at Rocco, his eyes narrowing as he took a moment to understand who was dumb enough to provoke him. The recognition descended on his face, but not an ounce of fear. “Was just about to stop by the hospital and bring you flowers. Glad to see the surgery went well.” He seemed to completely have forgotten President Barsetti, who continued to crawl away until he got to his feet. But one of Darius’s men stopped him and shoved him back to the ground like the execution would still be taking place.
Darius took several steps into the middle of the square, staring Rocco down like some kind of minor distraction.
I was tucked around the corner of a building, and I lifted the sniper rifle over my shoulder and focused on the lens.
Rocco was flanked by men of Cosa Nostra, but there were only five of them, while Darius had an entire army behind him. He was the king who’d cleared the board, had taken all the pawns, knights, and bishops and kicked off his own queen.
I watched Darius in the scope, but he happened to stop right behind one of our guys. “Come on, move.” I kept the gun trained on my target, but I could only get the corner of Darius’s shoulder.
Darius trailed his gaze slowly up and down Rocco’s body. “Must be on a lot of painkillers.”
“Nah, I passed,” Rocco said. “Don’t want to numb anything—especially the high from killing you.”
Darius smirked before he released a laugh. “That’s cute. Unless you’ve got a bomb strapped to your chest and you’re about to kamikaze this shit, I don’t think that’s going to happen. But to be real, I’d respect you for it.” The smile remained.
“Jesus Christ, fucking move!” I knew Rocco couldn’t keep this up for more than a few minutes before Darius got bored, so I shouldered my gun, ran around the building to the other corner, my heart racing and my lungs aching to get there fast enough. I dropped to my knee andgrimaced slightly when the cap hit the concrete. I didn’t bother with stealth, so I knew his men had probably noticed me.
I didn’t even take a chance to check. I put the gun back on my shoulder, looked through the scope because I couldn’t afford to miss even when I was relatively close. This wasn’t how I imagined this moment would be. I’d wanted to capture him and torture him until he begged me to end his life. Wanted bloody and violent revenge for my brother ... but I was prepared to let that go. To live for the future instead of the past. I aimed for his head and squeezed the trigger right when he moved his head, laughing at something Rocco had said or some other thought that had come into his mind.
I didn’t see the outcome because gunfire broke out, and I felt a bullet go straight through my arm. “Fuck.” I dropped the gun and sprinted away, ducking for cover behind a slab of concrete that comprised the nearby flower box.
I knew they were coming for me, so I ripped off a grenade and pulled out the pin before I tossed it overhead. The second the explosion hit my ears, I ran for it. Sprinted around the building and back to where Cosa Nostra had formed their line of defense. Most of them had moved up to help Rocco when the gunfire started.
I’d just rounded the corner when Rocco ran into me and nearly knocked me to the ground. Blood dripped down his face from a head wound, but he didn’t appear to have been shot there.
“You all right—”
“You got him, he’s down.”
