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“Victor, I’m out,” I say into the mic while I start searching the monitors. “Where are Angel and Lucia?”
“Angelo can’t get a clear shot on Pavone,” Victor answers. “And… stay where you are, I see something I need to take care of.”
Something he needs to take care of?Now? I look at the other guy in the van, but he hadn’t heard Victor’s half of the conversation.
“There’s Lucia,” the guy comments, tapping one of the screens. “Pavone’s dragging her out.”
“Angel!” I hiss, “North exit. That’s where Pavone and Lucia are.”
“Got it. Sit tight, I’ll be right there,” Angel responds.
Great. All I can do is monitor the situation and hope Pavone and his men don’t get the drop on them.
30
VICTOR
Idon’t usually attend events like these—the ones that will end up publicly messy—but this is one I wanted to supervise closely. Santino has set up an audio feed for me, and I can hear the traditional organ music, the priest’s words… and the gunshots.
Although I had no intention of stepping foot inside the church, I’ve dressed up regardless. Only the finest for Lucia’s wedding, after all. And if anybody happens to notice me inside the car, they’ll think I’m one of the guests, taking a break or getting ready to leave.
I watch as people start to run out of the church. The first few people out are not women or children, the kinds of guests whose safety you would prioritize, but other mob men. I recognize them—men who supported Bellini and Pavone, and who are now rethinking that support.
The first of them out the church door gets hit by a bullet through the chest. His blood explodes all over his lovely suit, and the man standing next to him gets caught in the spray. Before he can duck back into the church, there’s another shot, catching him in the skull. There’s brain matter on the church door now.
I’ll need to reward Celio later. His shooting rivals Angelo’s.
The bodies by the door are a major deterrent, keeping others from attempting to escape the same way. A few people decide to try other exits, but we have snipers watching those as well.
This is going to be one hell of a clean-up scene for the cops later.
But it will be worth it, whatever the fallout might be. It was bad enough when Bellini moved into the city, but the thought of Pavone cruising in and destroying all of my hard work… This city ismine, and I won’t let the opportunity to rid myself of Pavone and all his allies slip past me.
Even if this gives Lucia the opportunity to escape.
My eyes are drawn to the side of the church, where Santino rappels down the wall. He scrambles away as fast as he can. The sight is a bit amusing, although when I look to the window he’d dropped from, I see a man pointing his gun down.
“Celio,” I say into the microphone, “there’s a man on the third floor, east window.”
“Got it, Boss,” Celio answers. After a few moments, the man by the window stumbles away, his shoulder hit. Too bad it wasn’t a deadly wound, but this will prevent him from chasing after Santino.
“Victor, I’m out,” Santino says when he gets back to the van. I scan the surrounding area, satisfied that he isn’t being pursued. “Where are Angel and Lucia?”
“Angelo can’t get a clear shot on Pavone,” I say, listening to the chatter on the radios as the gunmen exchange terse words and target instructions.
My eyes are drawn to motion by the side exit of the church, where a woman is stumbling along with two men using her as a human shield. I recognize her. I recognize all three of them.
“And… stay where you are, I see something I need to take care of.”
I get out of the car, ignoring the mic as I start to cross to them. I chastise myself for my own carelessness, but the snipers won’t be able to take care of this particular situation. It’s going to take a deft hand, and there’s no one I can trust but myself.
I have to trust that they won’t simply shoot me on sight, and adrenaline races through me as I near them.
“Back off, Corvi,” Damien Rossi tells me, holding Vanessa Bellini close to his chest.
“Let her go, and I’ll allow you to leave alive,” I say calmly. “You don’t need her anymore.”
Giulio Pavone barks out a laugh. “Yeah? As soon as we hand her over, there’s nothing preventing a bullet from going straight through our brains.” He looks at one of the bodies lying next to the exit. “Like poor Miguel there. Man, you fucking suck, Corvi. Miguel still owed me a few drinks.”
