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I scan the room and shake my head, although Angelo can’t see me. “Rossi and Giulio Pavone disappeared after the first gunshot.”
“Don’t worry about Rossi,” Victor answers. “Broadcast the file, Santino.”
Now that’s something I’m going to do with pleasure. I hit the button.
The speakers that had blasted the wedding march now play something very, very different.
“Castella? Fuck him. I’m tired of the Bellini old guard. He’s going out with all the rest of them. Gonna join Giorgis Bellini. Benton City is in need of new management,”Pavone’s voice says.
My magnum opus. It had taken hours of editing to splice together all the sound recordings. Between the bugs Lucia and Angelo had planted, the phone Pavone stole from him, and Victor’s own recordings, we had all the words necessary to make something truly incendiary. In the end, the hardest part was figuring out the final message, something that would cause the most chaos.
I wish I could stay and watch Pavone’s reaction, but I’m not going to risk staying here for the guards to find. The recording is set to a loop, and I hid the playback controls as best I could. Now it’s really time to get out of here. The guards are all running up the stairs, and I don’t want to be surrounded. I slip out of the tech room and head toward the stairs closest to me—running up instead of down.
“What? I never fucking said that!” Pavone protests loudly, but of course anybody would argue like that.
“He did!” Lucia’s voice rings out. “He’s been plotting against you all this time!”
Pavone snarls, “Lying bitch!”
Lucia yelps, and I can’t see what Pavone is doing, but just the sound fills me with rage. I want to barge back down the stairs and go to her aid, but I have to keep myself from getting cornered by Pavone’s men. Bellini’s men might be reeling right now, but Pavone still has a loyal guard who won’t give a fuck if he was plotting against those in charge of Benton City.
Hell, they probably figure it’ll give them promotions. They’re going to be dangerous.
More yelling behind me, and even more gunfire—not just Angelo and our men this time.
I head toward the open window on the third floor, grabbing onto the rope I had already set up before the wedding. I’m not fond of the idea of tossing myself out of a third story window with just a rope to hold me up, especially when someone could just slice it and send me falling, but it’s better than getting stuck in a shoot-out with Pavone’s men.
Before I can finish securing the rope to the harness, someone barges in. I curse, looking at the much bigger man who’s followed me in here. I fumble for my gun, but he doesn’t bother with his own. He rams into me, sending me tumbling, and I have to scramble to get back up on my feet before he can get a cheap shot in.
“Would you believe me if I said I was just the tech guy?” I ask while I raise the gun.
The guard isn’t amused, charging at me, and I pop off a shot. I might not be Angelo, but I can handle a close-range target just fine.
Or I thought I could. Shooting under pressure is a lot harder than on the gun range, and my bullet only grazes his arm. He grunts in pain but doesn’t stop his advance, grappling for the gun.
Then he grins at me. “Really thought you’d escape alive?” He pulls hard on the rope, and I gasp as I’m sent flying. The gun slips out of my hand and slides across the floor.
“Still plan on it!” I answer desperately. I don’t want to leave my gun behind, but he’s also got one holstered, so it doesn’t make a difference in terms of my survivability. There’s really only one thing I can do to escape this situation.
I really, really don’t want to do this.
I get up, pulling the loose rope toward me—and dash to the window.
He realizes what I’m up to a second too late. I jump out right before he can grab me, and Jesus fucking Christ, falling is no fun at all.
It probably only takes a few seconds, but those seconds stretch out forever as I imagine crashing into the landscaping below.
The rope is the exact right length, though, and catches me a few inches from the ground. I scramble to get out of the harness before the guard up there remembers he’s got a fucking gun and he could easily shoot me.
I leave the harness and rope hanging while I rush to get into position for the next step of our plan. The getaway vehicle, disguised as a catering truck. The inside is set up as a mobile station, where I can monitor the cameras. The barricades we set up around the church aren’t going to last forever.
Somebody outside is going to notice the gunshots too, eventually, but the lack of phone signal out here—thanks to me—and the relatively isolated area of the city we’re in, will buy us time.
I get to the van first, flinging the door open and getting inside. One of Victor’s other men looks up at me, gun drawn, but he lowers it when he recognizes me.
“I need another gun. Fuck,” I pant. “Had to leave mine behind.” At least I’d been wearing gloves so I didn’t have to worry about my fingerprints being left on anything inside. I’d liked that gun, though.
He grabs one for me and offers it to me, and I take it before shoving it into the holster at my side. Shooting may not be my thing, but I’m safer with a gun than without. I’m not as muscular as some of the other guys, and I need the great equalizer to make sure I’m not outclassed.
