CHAPTER SIX

To call it a dump would be generous. It was more like a flophouse for losers masquerading as a dump, or a nightclub as it was officially known. But whatever it was, it was exactly the spot he needed. Because he was certain that not one face that frequented a club like this would have any idea who he was. None.

He took another drag on his cigarette and glanced at his watch again. It wasn’t that the guy was late, but that he was early. He was always early. But he wanted to get this shit over with.

He tapped off the ash onto the filthy table and waited another fifteen minutes before the man he’d been waiting for finally arrived. All the way to the back he walked, like he fit right in. Then he plopped down on the booth seat and sat directly in front of him.

“What you got?”

“What you need?”

“I need what we discussed.”

The man took over the glass of beer on the table and took a long swig.

“That’s what I need. What we discussed.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Then what’s the problem? You’re having second thoughts?”

“I don’t have second thoughts. Are you having second thoughts?”

“None whatsoever.” If anything he was more certain of his decision. He took another drag on his cigarette. “I want no improvising. I want no last-minute change of plans. I want it handled exactly the way we discussed.”

“It will be.”

“When?”

“Tonight. We go tonight.”

He nodded. “That’s good. That’s what I want. Let’s get this shit done. But remember the goal,” he said as he pointed his cigarette at his guest. “Suffering is the goal. That’s why you stick to the plan and don’t deviate. I want that asshole to suffer and everybody associated with that asshole to suffer. Those Sinatra bastards will get a taste of their own medicine. Once and for all.”

“So this is a one-and-done situation?”

“Hell no! This is just the beginning. You can call this the test drive. Because this tonight? Child’s play compared to what’s to come. They ain’t seen nothing yet.” Then he looked at his guest. “Sure you’re on board for the long haul?”

“You keep that money flowing, then I’m on board. But you do understand the wrinkle in all of this?”

“What wrinkle?”

“This ain’t just some family. You’re talking Mick the Tick’s family. I’ve been around many moons. Never met a man more vicious in my life. You’re sure you wanna take that monster on?”

He smiled. “That’s why I’m on this side of the table and you’re over there. Because when I get finished, Mick Sinatra ain’t gonna be coming for nobody but his own. Turn them inside out and victory is in your grasp.”

His guest smiled too, raised the glass of beer in an imaginary toast, and took another long swig. “That what you want? To turn them against each other?”

But he didn’t respond. It wasn’t his business what he wanted. It was his business to make certain he did what he was told. Because if he did that, the outcome couldn’t be anything but perfection. But only if he did what he was told.

He stood up. Tossed some cash on the table. Gave the man a hard look. “I know who you are. I know where you live. I know where every member of your family lives too. Don’t so much as think about two-timing me.”

Another hard stare. And then he left.

The man he left behind gave a hard, harsh exhale. There was a time when a guy like him wouldn’t have the nerve to come at him like that. It would never happen. But time had not been kind. He was not flying high anymore. He had to take what he could get.