Chapter 18

Antonio slowly opened his eyes as the dawn light burst through his bedroom windows. His head ached and his mouth was dry. Even if he hadn’t had his coffee, Antonio knew he still should have loaded up on water before going to sleep.

‘Never again,’ Antonio muttered. ‘Vodka is not my friend. In fact, vodka is my fucking enemy.’

Antonio had managed to strip down to his briefs before pretty much collapsing into his bed. With the bed sheets all ruffled from tossing and turning all night, Antonio knew that the sooner he jumped out of bed and got underneath a hot shower, the better.

Antonio stood up and looked around the room.

The house was deathly silent. In many ways, Antonio was glad of the quiet, his head probably couldn’t have taken any noise. But Antonio also felt a sadness come over him. The silence in the house also represented Lyle’s absence.

Damned boy.

Making me feel like this.

I’ve got business that needs doing.

Antonio shook his head and looked around for his cell phone. After a few moments of searching around in his sheets and duvet cover, Antonio found it. The usual messages appeared on the screen. Various calls and missives from hitmen, enforcers, and street soldiers who had found their way into trouble in the night hours.

Of course, there was also a gloating message or two from Vitali and Luca who it appeared had stayed up until very late. Antonio could have predicted this and as terrible as he felt in that moment was glad that he hadn’t stayed out even longer with his good friends.

Just as Antonio was about to toss the phone back down onto the bed and head for his much needed shower, he saw that there was one unopened message. It was from an unrecognized number.

‘Urgh. Probably some fucking scam or spam message,’ Antonio grumbled, nevertheless opening the message up. ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’

It was immediately apparent that this was no spam message…

Antonio Sorrento… the great mafia strategist. Well… how about this for a puzzle. We’ve got your boy. He’s safe… for now. But it might not stay that way. What we need is a fair exchange. You come to this address and we’ll let Lyle go. You fail to show, and it’s lights out for the boy. This is no bluff. Do NOT underestimate how far I will go. DBC.

‘DBC… Detective Niall Sloane,’ Antonio said, gritting his teeth as he spoke. ‘If this asshole thinks I haven’t seen this play before, he must be out of his mind.’

Antonio knew that Lyle was in grave danger whether he showed up or not. The likelihood was that Antonio would show up and be killed. And once that was done, Lyle would be killed too. After all, what use would Sloane have for Lyle? In fact, Lyle would be a witness, a loose end that needed tying off.

No, Antonio knew that he would have to be prepared. Antonio would need a serious plan. It would be pointless to try and make a good faith negotiation with Sloane. As cop as corrupt as Sloane couldn’t be trusted to sit down with and talk like civilized men. And anyway, this had gone too far for Antonio. The second that Sloane brought Lyle into this, it was war.

Antonio knew that whatever move he made, there was a chance that Lyle might die. But conversely, if Antonio didn’t do anything then Lyle was practically dead already. Time was of the essence. It may have been dawn, but Antonio had to call up his closest and most trusted allies.

Antonio picked up his phone and messaged Luca…

ANTONIO: Luca, it’s time to rise and shine. We’re at war. Come to my place, and be ready for some immediate action. Game head on. It’s time to fuck shit up.

And without wasting a single second, Antonio sent a message to Damian too. Damian was back in town after his business trip, and Antonio knew that he would be ready for action…

ANTONIO: Damian, this is one of THOSE messages. You know what I need. My place, ASAP. We’re going to work.

Antonio didn’t need to wait for a response. Both messages were perfectly clear and Antonio knew from the deepest pit of his soul that his men would be arriving at his house in double-quick time.

As far as Antonio was concerned, it was time to hit the shower and freshen up. Time was of the essence and each and every step Antonio took needed to be perfect from this point onward.

It was war.

And there would be casualties.

But before any of that, Antonio needed to feel the hot water over his naked body. The finer details of his plan of action needed to be calculated, and where better to do that than underneath the hot, cascading water.

After freshening up in the shower, Antonio’s mind was clear. Even his thumping headache had faded. Maybe it was the adrenalin, but Antonio felt fresh and ready to do whatever it took to get his boy back.

Antonio changed into his sharpest suit and was in his library. Except this was no ordinary library. Each bookcase was in fact a revolving door that housed every gun and weapon known to man on the other side.

This was Antonio’s personal collection of tactical and devastatingly effective guns, knives, swords, and even grenades. He may have lived in a truly upper crust area of the city, but Antonio hadn’t abandoned his roots. He had come up as a street soldier and was no ready to get his hands dirty again.

Antonio thought back to the lives he had taken over the years. It wasn’t something that he took pleasure in like some of the other people he knew and worked with. For Antonio, taking a life was a last resort when all else had failed. Not only was it risky and had the potential to take him out of the game for life, killing another man always just felt like a waste of life.

Of course, Antonio had killed many men.

Often, it was on orders from his bosses. Antonio would always do what needed to be done and had been like that since his first kill. But his lack of obvious enjoyment at killing had probably been part of the reason why he was moved to the strategy and tactics side of the business.

As the years had rolled on, Antonio had been involved less and less in the practical side. There had been special missions where he had taken a personal involvement, often teaming up with his trusted allies in the shape of Luca and Damian. But other than that, Antonio had been the mastermind, the organizer who made the plays from a distance.

This was different though.

There was no way in hell that Antonio was going to take a backseat. He knew that if Sloane suspected for one second that Antonio wasn’t going to show up personally, then Lyle’s life was already over.

Antonio had dealt with corrupt cops before. He’s dealt with them many times in fact. But Antonio had to concede that Sloane was a different kind of animal. There was something utterly ruthless about Sloane, and it was clear that he was no respecter of tradition or any kind of honor either.

This made Sloane far more dangerous.

In the past, corrupt cops had at least shown respect to the mafia way of doing things. But not Sloane. Sloane moved like a snake in the grass, and Antonio knew that if he was to avoid being bitten by Sloane’s deadly venom then he would need to be fighting on the frontline himself.

Antonio cast his eye up and down the selection of guns at his disposal. Each and every gun had a story to tell. Antonio had lived far longer than the majority of his friends from back in the day. These guns had their own histories, and some of them belonged to fallen friends and brothers in arms.

Antonio reached up and took the .44 Magnum down from the top rack. It was a classic of its kind. Hard hitting, accurate, and with a comfortable weighting. It was good for close quarters combat, but weaker at distance. This was a gun that Antonio hadn’t used in two years, not since the Fantano job. But Antonio had a feeling that it was going to come in very handy indeed soon enough.

As Antonio held the gun in his hand, he felt an old feeling return. The kind of sensation that Antonio hadn’t felt in a while, but always knew was inside him, waiting to rise up once more.

This motherfucker is going down.

I’m getting Lyle safe.

And then… I’m killing Detective Niall Sloane.