CHAPTER 34
Enrico’s men regrouped at the turnoff indicated by the GPS tracking log. Dom was gone—Enrico’s phone showed him headed back to the lake, presumably going home. They would have to catch up with him later. His main priority was saving Kate. And getting Antonio out of the line of fire.
They waited for Antonio, Paolo, and Tommaso to pull up. Claudio and Santino were already there, both conferring with Ruggero. Enrico and Ruggero had decided to split forces, three and three. They had no idea what they were walking into, how many men they faced. It was best not to go in as one team.
Should he have called in more men? He was being selfish as it was to have asked anyone to accompany him. And what if Dom had recruited others to help him? These men, these were the only ones he could definitely rely on. His personal staff.
A car pulled up, and Antonio, Paolo, and Tommaso piled out. Antonio looked stricken as he approached Enrico. “Don Lucchesi, I have failed you.” He waited, head bowed, for his punishment.
Enrico put a hand on his shoulder. “Give me your phone.”
Antonio pulled out the phone, questions on his face. “My gun too?”
“You’re going to need that.” He handed Antonio his own phone, which was still tracking Dom. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything.”
“Find Dom and bring him to the safe house. If I do not return, execute him, but make it look like it was the Andrettis. The cosca will need Dom’s sons to run it—”
Antonio cut him off with a horizontal slash of his hand. “You will return, Don Lucchesi. I have no doubt.”
Enrico smiled. “I wish I shared your certainty.” He gave Antonio a light push. “Now go.” Antonio started to step away. What if this was the last time he saw him? “Wait.” A pressure built up in his chest, his throat tightening. He placed his hands on Antonio’s shoulders. “I want you to know, Tonio….” His voice trailed off, thickening. He squeezed the boy’s shoulders. “You’ve never disappointed me.” He paused, looking Antonio full in the face. “I never had the pleasure of raising my own son, but sometimes I’ve thought of you that way.”
Antonio’s eyes misted. “You honor me too much, Don Lucchesi.”
Enrico embraced him, his heart contracting when Antonio returned it. Then he stepped back and gave him another little push. “Go now. And be careful. He is capable of anything.”
Antonio nodded, not saying a word. He hurried back to the car and sped off. Enrico watched him for a moment, wishing he’d had more to offer the boy. More time, more love. There was never enough of the former, and the latter… the latter he’d held back out of respect for Nico. There was no replacing one son with another. But was there more room in his heart than he thought?
Enrico called Paolo and Tommaso to him and briefed them on what he and Ruggero had decided. Paolo could barely meet his eye. Enrico pulled him aside. “This is not your fault, understand? She made a mistake. Not you.”
Paolo shook his head. “I know my training. I shouldn’t have deviated from it.”
“You can’t protect someone who doesn’t want it.”
Paolo nodded, but still looked miserable. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”
“You’ll earn it tonight, I promise you.”
Enrico motioned for Tommaso and the others to rejoin them. “We’ll leave the cars partway, blocking the road. No one leaves without killing us.”
The men nodded.
“We have no idea what we’ll encounter. Hopefully we have prepared well enough.” Enrico gestured to Ruggero, who started handing out gloves, radios, knives, mini Uzis, and extra ammo clips in small backpacks.
“I’m leaving additional guns and ammunition in the boots of the cars,” Ruggero said. “That’s our fallback point, if necessary.”
Enrico stepped forward again, as all the men checked their weapons. “Remember, Kate’s in there, so be careful. This will all be for nothing if she’s killed.” He looked at each man in turn. “If any of you want to sit this out, I’ll understand.”
Each man held his gaze, giving a slight nod. Enrico smiled, his heart full. “Good. I knew you were the men I could count on.”
They departed for the house, stopping after several hundred feet and creating a roadblock with the cars. The men continued on foot, careful to make no sound. As soon as they saw lights, they split into two teams and struck out through the trees. The plan was for the teams to circle the location and meet up to exchange intelligence.
Enrico chafed at not being able to charge up to the house and burst in. Anything could be happening to her. But it was quiet; that was a good sign. No screams, at least. Of course, Carlo could have her gagged. Or worse—she could already be dead.
Enrico and his men circled the building. It was large, three stories, made of stone. Thick vines had crawled up the walls; the structure appeared quite old. They counted the number of vehicles in back: only three, so the odds were good.
Creeping through the trees and underbrush that came up close to the house, Enrico wondered why Carlo had a place out here. It was inconvenient. But then it dawned on him—it wasn’t inconvenient. It was secluded. No neighbors, no one to see or hear anything. And plenty of places to dump bodies where they’d be found only by animals. It was the perfect place for dark projects. And now Kate was one.
They met up with Ruggero’s team. Together, the teams had spotted four guards outside, one near each corner of the house. They’d have to be dealt with first.
“Did you see anything inside?” Enrico asked.
“Two more guards. And Dario. They’re playing cards by the fire,” Ruggero said. “We have no idea how many are upstairs.”
“Did you see her?”
He shook his head. “She must be upstairs. Carlo too.”
The knot in Enrico’s stomach pulled tighter. If that bastard had laid one finger on her…. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus.
They could see front and rear exits, and part of the interior on the bottom floor, but that gave them little idea of the layout inside. Enrico looked up, studying the house. “How many lights are on upstairs?”
“I didn’t see any on our side,” Ruggero said, and Claudio and Santino nodded.
“I remember one,” Enrico said. He looked at Paolo and Tommaso. “What did you see?”
“One, maybe two,” Paulo ventured. Tommaso shrugged.
Enrico turned back to Ruggero. “I want your team and Tommaso to handle the guards outside. I’ll take Paolo with me through the back door.” He looked at his watch. “In two minutes, we head for our targets. Agreed?”
Ruggero nodded, sliding his knife out of its sheath. It was large, a hunting knife, the handle utilitarian black rubber. Claudio, Santino, and Tommaso slid theirs out as well. The four men faded away, sneaking through the brush toward their targets. As soon as Enrico and Paolo saw the others break cover, they were to run for the back door.
The plan went smoothly—Carlo’s guards had little time to react, and none of them managed to raise an alarm. Soon all four men lay twitching on the ground, their throats gurgling as they choked on their own blood.
Enrico and Paolo were at the back door in a flash. It was locked. Enrico heard a dull roar inside the house, then the sound of feet pounding up the stairs. No time to pick the lock. He smashed a window panel with the butt of his knife, then reached through and opened the door from the inside.
Ducking into a low crouch, he scanned the darkened room. It was a kitchen. Paolo came in next and raised his gun, squatting next to Enrico. They heard shouts and cursing from above, and then Enrico heard Kate’s voice. Grazie a Dio—she was alive.
Ruggero and the others slipped in behind them. They waited, but heard no one moving toward them. Had the broken window gone unnoticed?
They advanced toward the next room. When Paolo ducked his head out to see if all was clear, he was met by a machine gun burst. He slumped forward, his head a bloody mess. Enrico reached out to drag him back, but Ruggero tugged on his arm.
“Leave him. He’s dead. And we’re trapped,” Ruggero said.
Enrico stared at Paolo. He shouldn’t have brought him here. He shouldn’t have brought any of them here. Then a scream from above—a woman’s scream—focused him back on Kate. He couldn’t wait. He turned to Ruggero. “Cover me.”
Before Ruggero could stop him, he rolled out into the room, aiming for the back of a sofa he thought would provide cover. Ruggero crouched in the doorway behind him, spraying the room with bullets. The bright muzzle flashes and the roar of the gun were disorienting, especially when Carlo’s man returned the fire. Enrico crawled around the side of the couch, looking for an angle to shoot his target.
He snaked under a coffee table, but heard the gunfire shift from Ruggero to himself, the bullets hitting the stone floor with sharp pings. Shards of broken rock flew up around Enrico’s legs. He flattened himself until Ruggero’s increased fire drew the man’s attention.
Enrico rolled for the far sofa. Behind it, he could see it was a straight shot to the end of the wooden staircase that led to the rooms above, and to Kate.
Enrico crawled on his elbows and belly around the back of the couch. He drew his Glock, not trusting himself to fire the Uzi with any accuracy from such a position. He edged up to the end of the sofa. This was it.
He rolled out on his back, the gun up and sighted toward the guard, whose head flicked in Enrico’s direction when he caught the sudden movement. The guard swung his gun around, but he was too slow. Enrico and Ruggero caught him in a crossfire of bullets. The man jerked a few times, dropped his gun and fell to the floor. Enrico didn’t wait to see if he was dead. He was already on his feet and scrambling up the stairs. She’d just screamed. Again.