Chapter Fifteen
The smile emoji with the heart-shaped eyes haunted Vassago for the rest of the trip. He even showed it to Digger, who laughed. “Need any more fucking confirmation she feels the same way?”
“Seriously? That’s how you tell someone? With a picture?”
“I’m just sayin’, she texted you and then she sent that. She’s in love with you, too, asshole. Congratulations.”
“Well I’m not saying anything to her about how I feel over the fucking phone, and with stupid shapes yet.”
Digger had shrugged. “Suit yourself. Okay. We’re home.” Digger picked up his phone and made a call. “Hey, we’re here. My place still safe?”
Vassago couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation. He didn’t even know which of Digger’s associates he had called, but he knew they were watching his place, as well as Marie’s family, for him.
After he disconnected the call, he cut his gaze toward Vassago for a second while he navigated the traffic. “It’s safe.”
“Good.” They had seven alternate places to hang out while they were here, just in case. They had over-planned this to the teeth, but that didn’t bother Vassago. This was the boldest, fucking craziest job he’d ever pulled, and it was better to over-plan than not have enough contingencies.
He wished he could talk to Donny right now, but they had agreed there was to be no communication until it was done, for safety’s sake. Soon, very soon, he’d be making the call to let his cousin know that Roberto di Stefano would never bother any of them again.
The plan itself was simple. Di Stefano lived in a compound outside Queens that was completely inaccessible. They had ruled that out right away. The security on it, and the number of bodyguards patrolling it, made Donny’s set-up look like a playground in the safest neighborhood ever.
They had to do it out in the open. The only way to get to him even then was to make sure his guards were preoccupied. There had been plenty of attempts made in the past, and each time the one trying it had been caught and killed on the spot.
Digger’s associates had been uncovering those stories and feeding them to Digger and Vassago for weeks now, but that was good. It told him and Digger what not to try. It was a process of elimination, and they had figured out when and where di Stefano would be most vulnerable.
But it was also a waiting game. Any obvious attempt to draw him out would be seen as a potential threat. They couldn’t do anything that would cast suspicion on Donny. And they had to make sure no one would start asking whether the hit was related to Vince. Because that would lead them to Marie, and potentially to Donny and the MC.
This MO had to be different from the accident that had killed Vince. Digger had made sure Vince’s death looked that way. A freak accident. No one was even talking professional hit. It was pure genius, as far as Vassago was concerned.
But Vince had been an easy target. He worked alone, had no more than two bodyguards at any one time, when he used them at all, and he’d been preoccupied with finding Marie. They didn’t have those same conditions with di Stefano.
Following him was no problem. Digger and Vassago both knew how to do that without being spotted. But they had to be ready at a moment’s notice to act when the opportunity arose, or they might not get another chance for days or even weeks. Every moment spent away from the club and from Marie meant his Brothers and the woman he loved would worry further. Not to mention what Donny would go through until he heard from them.
This had to be done at the first opportunity, and it had to be done right. They could not fail. There wouldn’t be a second chance if they did. Marie’s life, Donny’s life, and the lives of everyone Vassago lived and worked with would be in danger if he and Digger botched this up.
****
They’d spent an entire day driving to Brooklyn, and that evening studying the information given to Digger about di Stefano’s usual habits. This was the evening of the third day they’d spent following him around, Christmas shopping with his wife. Around eight this evening, his wife left the house alone, and ten minutes later he ventured out alone as well.
“Her club thing,” said Vassago. “But where’s he going?”
“While the wife’s away, Roberto will play.”
He had two guards in the car with him. Vassago and Digger followed him into Manhattan, and then to the Upper West Side. The car pulled in front of a brownstone, and double parked. One of the guards got out and sprinted down the street and around the corner.
“Where’s he going?” asked Vassago, as Digger parked the van across the street, and roughly half a block south. They were driving a vehicle that belonged to one of Digger’s associates. They’d changed them every day so far, just in case.
Vassago adjusted the telephoto lens. “I got the address they stopped in front of.” He gave it to Digger. “Whose place is this? I remember that address from the info you had.”
“Hang on. I’m looking.” While Digger surfed on his phone, Vassago watched the house and the street. The guard came from around the far corner, still sprinting, and got back into the car. A second later, di Stefano emerged and walked up the stairs of the house the car was double parked in front of.
“He’s ringing the bell,” said Vassago. “No key.”
After he opened the door, the car moved away, slowly.
“Should we follow it?” asked Vassago.
“No. I think they’re circling the block.” He gave Vassago a sly grin. “Got it.” Digger handed Vassago his phone. There was a plat map of the block, showing an alley behind the row of brownstones, accessible from one side only. Above that was a name, address, and phone number.
“She lives here, on the top floor.”
Vassago nodded. “Yep. The same Bess McFarland that was on the sheet.” Roberto had been a bad boy during his marriage. Bess was the latest in a string of girlfriends he’d regularly visited.
Digger pointed. “Here they come.” The car came around the corner and cruised past the brownstone again. “That’s what they’re doing. Circling the block.”
“Any idea how long he’ll be in there?”
Digger glanced at his phone for a few seconds. “His usual MO when he visits her is to stay roughly two hours. His wife has her club thing two evenings a week.”
“This is too good of an opportunity to pass up. But how do we get inside? Or, do we get him to come outside?” Vassago shifted in his seat, too fucking excited now. “Let’s talk this through. If we lure him outside, we have far less chances to make it look like an accident.”
Digger nodded. “Which means we need to get inside. And he’ll take a fatal fall once we’re in there.”
“Nice.” Vassago glanced up. “Into the alley?”
“Nope. Inside the apartment.”
“What about her?”
“Collateral damage.”
Vassago stared at Digger, certain he’d misunderstood. “No one will ever believe it.”
Digger showed Vassago his phone. “Floor plan of her remodeled place. A nice big bathroom with a soaking tub.”
“Where the fuck did you get that?”
“I have friends in high places. No pun intended.”
“What if they aren’t in the tub?”
“You’re fucking a woman thirty years younger than you who paid a shitload of money to remodel the top floor of an Upper West Side brownstone, complete with lavish bathroom and a big fucking bathtub. You not gonna use that when you come over to fuck her once a week?”
“Yeah okay. That should do it. We can trip the fire alarm. That would throw everyone into a panic, including his guards. It would bring fire trucks, too. More distractions. His guards will be thinking first of protecting him from being seen or caught on someone’s camera phone, before they’ll be thinking about it being a set-up.”
Digger smiled. “I like it. But we need to know what system they’re using.”
Vassago pulled his laptop from the back seat and began to type. “I know people, too,” he said, grinning. It only took him fifteen minutes to find what he was looking for. The car was still circling, very slowly.
“Perfect.” He handed the laptop to Digger. “This whole neighborhood has one of those smart systems hooked up. People can see their front doors remotely, and monitor alarms from inside the buildings or remotely. All we have to do is hack in there and trip it.”
“Good thing we know how to hack so well.”
“Good thing. But first let’s move the van. What you said about phone cameras applies to us, too. The media might show up, and people will be taking pictures and recording on their phones.”
Digger started the ignition and gave him a thoughtful look. “You ever miss this?”
“Yeah. I do.”
“It’s not a life for someone who’s thinking of settling down.”
“Let’s not go there right now, Digger. Move the van. I’ll get started on this alarm system.”
If his thoughts were on Marie, he wouldn’t be able to give this his full attention. The idea of killing di Stefano sent a surge of excitement coursing through him, electric and terrifying. There was no guilt. Instead, the once-familiar rush of anticipation, right before the gun was fired or the knife blade plunged into flesh, permeated his senses.
This was for Donny. It was retribution for everything di Stefano had put his cousin through this year. It was for his Brothers. Mad Dog had started this shit by getting in touch with di Stefano, and in turn had rained down more shit on their MC than they deserved. And it was for the Outlaw Dogs MC members who had followed Howler, after he’d killed Mad Dog for betraying that club and its Brothers.
And this was also for Digger and Marie, as well as her family. None of them would be entirely safe until this man was out of the way for good. This shit ended here, today, in this pretty brownstone. What a fitting end for di Stefano. Caught off guard with his girlfriend. It was poetic justice.
“Okay,” said Digger, once they were parked on the next street. “Let’s make sure we have the plan well outlined. Once the alarm trips and people start coming out, his guards are gonna go inside. How do we get there first?”
“Wait until they’re driving out front, and then we trip it as we’re walking down the alley.”
“Yeah. Good. People will be coming out so we’ll be lost in the crowd.”
“Okay. Once we’re in the apartment, you take her because I want him.”
“We need to let his guards know not to come up. We’ll need time to set this up.”
“Fuck.” Vassago frowned as he pictured several scenarios. “I got it. We send a text from di Stefano’s phone to them. It won’t take people long to figure out the alarm was false, so we don’t wait for that. We keep the guards outside that way.”
“We can disable the alarm once we’ve sent the text. That way no one will be suspicious. Just a fluke alarm. We send the text to keep the guards out, and it gives us more time.”
“Fucking genius. Then once we’re done, we wait for the car to be on the other street and we walk out of the building.”
Digger nodded. “Eventually the guards will go inside, but by then we’ll be gone.”
“They’ll have to force their way inside. If he doesn’t have a key, neither do they.”
“And we can make an anonymous call to 911 from one of those boxes down the street, to tell the police we saw two men break in. That way his guards get caught in the apartment with the bodies, and are forced to expose di Stefano. His wife is gonna be so pissed.”
Vassago grinned. “You’re a fucking evil genius, Digger.”
“No shit.”
They locked gazes. “You ready?” asked Vassago.
“Yeah. You?”
“Completely.” He opened the door. “Let’s do this.”