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I look out into the courtyard and marvel at how I got here. I love every bit of my life. Of our life. It wasn’t easy, but I wouldn’t change where we are now.
“Dessert?”
I turn to see Raf holding a chocolate ricotta mousse and two spoons, a big grin on his face.
He’s wearing an apron.
And nothing underneath.
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LUCA BARONE
I wipethe morning dew from the scope of my gun. The weather conditions are ideal. The ground is wet from the light spring rain last night. The sun just barely rising. I’m ready, waiting for my prey to wander into my trap.
I shift my weight and look through the scope at the oncoming car. White Toyota Prius. Not him.
This kind of work puts me in some strange places. This morning, I’m lying on my stomach on top of the overhang of a drive-thru ATM surrounded by an empty parking lot. As weird as it is, it’s the perfect perch. I’ve got a clear view, but I’m hidden from sight. I can clearly see any car coming north on Bustleton Ave. Someone could drive right up to the ATM and they’d never see me.
I’ve been waiting long enough that I start to wonder if he’s going to show. But I know he will. Evsei Novikov is consistent. It makes him an easy target. Friday and Saturday night he goes out in downtown Philadelphia. And then just before sunrise, he rides back home to Northeast Philly.
Novikov is a Captain in the Bratva. The Russian Mob. And he’s a damn good Captain, even if his travel is predictable. The fact that he’s a skilled Captain is exactly why I’m taking him out. As hitman for the Barone Syndicate, I’m called on every now and then to prune some members from our competition. The Italian Mafia has been growing its control of Philadelphia for the past few decades. But our competition is growing too. Mainly the Russians and the Irish.
We work with the Russians quite often, but we have to keep them in check. Their leadership is getting older. Novikov could be contender for the new Bratva heir, and if that happens, we can say goodbye to any kind of alliance between Russians and Italians.Novikov is smart, but impulsive. Strong, but greedy. The only thing predictable about him is which route he takes home from the clubs. Not someone we could trust as a boss or an ally.
So, he’s got to go. But killing a Bratva Made Man would start an all-out war between us and the Russians. That’s why this is my job. My forte is making assassinations look like accidents. As far as the Bratva will know, Novikov will have died in a car crash. Simple bad luck.
This is a powerful skill to have. We can make the moves we want to make, taking out our opponents’ chess pieces without them knowing it. It requires discipline, planning, preparation. And most of all, creativity and attention to detail.
I’ve spent almost two months setting up this hit. I’ve watched Novikov’s routes. I’ve found his patterns. I’ve uncovered his weak spots.
Like this one. Every Saturday morning, after conducting business and having a few drinks, Novikov and his driver take this route back home. The roads are quiet. Very few cars are out. The perfect time to let his guard down.
