Chapter 5 - The Black SUV
We had five minutes.
Maybe less.
Silvio wanted us in the SUV.
I refused.
“I’m not getting into a vehicle controlled by somebody inside my organization.”
“Then stay here and wait for DeMarco’s men.”
“You brought them?”
“I came ahead of them.”
“How generous.”
Elena held Sophie tightly.
“Stop.”
We both looked at her.
She was frightened.
But anger had taken over.
“My daughter is standing here listening to two grown men argue about people coming to kill us.”
Silvio opened his mouth.
Elena cut him off.
“No. You threatened my mother. You watched us for years. And you—”
She pointed at me.
“You arrived here with a war following you.”
“I didn't know.”
“I don't care.”
That stopped me.
Elena crouched in front of Sophie.
“Sweetheart, go upstairs. Pack your blue backpack. Two shirts. Pants. Socks. Your toothbrush. Rabbit.”
“Are we leaving?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I’ll tell you when I know.”
Sophie looked at me.
“Are you coming?”
Elena's eyes closed briefly.
I answered, “Yes.”
She nodded and ran upstairs.
Silvio approached the window.
“We should use the old access road behind the property.”
“You know this place well.”
“I was here before Elena was born.”
Elena stared at him.
“What?”
He ignored her.
I stepped in front of him.
“You have about thirty seconds before I decide you’re the biggest threat in this room.”
Silvio looked older suddenly.
“Rose’s father owned this garage.”
Elena’s expression changed.
“She told me he died before I was born.”
“He did.”
“You knew him?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Silvio looked at me.
“Because Vittorio bought this place for Rose.”
Silence.
Elena stared around the garage as if the walls had moved.
“No.”
“Your grandfather's debts were going to take it. Vittorio paid them.”
“My mother said—”
“She lied to protect you.”
Elena's voice cracked.
“My entire life is becoming somebody else's story.”
I understood that feeling better than she knew.
A vehicle engine sounded in the distance.
Silvio looked toward the road.
“Later.”
I called the only person I trusted besides Luca.
Dante Russo.
He had been my driver before becoming operations chief.
Unlike Luca, Dante had never asked for power.
That made him valuable.
He answered on the second ring.
“Boss?”
“I need a secure extraction.”
“Location?”
I looked at Silvio.
He shook his head.
Right.
If my network was compromised, sending location digitally was dangerous.
“Millbrook. Old Moretti hunting property.”
Dante went silent.
“You told me never to mention that place on a phone.”
“Plans changed.”
“How many?”
“Three civilians. One questionable old man.”
Silvio looked offended.
“Vehicles?”
“Unknown hostiles approaching from the south.”
“I’m ninety minutes away.”
“We don’t have ninety.”
“I can get a helicopter.”
“No.”
Too visible.
Too traceable.
“Send two vehicles. No company plates. Only men you personally choose.”
“Understood.”
“And Dante?”
“Yes?”
“Don't tell Luca.”
Another pause.
Longer.
“All right.”
I ended the call.
Silvio smiled faintly.
“You're learning.”
“I’ve always learned quickly.”
“Not quickly enough.”
I ignored him.
Sophie returned wearing a backpack almost as large as her torso.
“Ready.”
Elena took her hand.
I checked the rear road.
We moved.
The access lane was barely more than two tire tracks through trees.
Silvio drove.
I sat in front.
Elena and Sophie were in the rear.
“You said DeMarco wants the ledger,” I said.
Silvio nodded.
“What’s in it?”
“Everything Vittorio knew.”
“That could mean anything.”
“It means judges.”
He glanced at me.
“Politicians. Police officers. Union officials. Businesses. Payoffs. Murders.”
Elena covered Sophie’s ears.
Sophie pulled her hands away.
“I can still hear.”
Elena sighed.
Silvio continued more carefully.
“Transactions powerful people would prefer forgotten.”
“Why did my father give it to Rose?”
“He didn't trust anyone else.”
“My father trusted his mistress more than his own son?”
Silvio looked at me.
“She wasn't just his mistress.”
The words irritated me more than they should have.
“What was she?”
“The woman he wanted to leave everything for.”
Elena stared forward.
“He never came.”
“No.”
“Then don't make him sound romantic.”
Silvio nodded.
“Fair.”
We reached a fork.
Silvio turned left.
I saw movement through the trees behind us.
Headlights.
“They found the access road.”
Silvio accelerated.
Sophie gripped Elena.
I reached under my jacket.
“Get down.”
A black pickup appeared behind us.
Then another.
Bullets shattered the rear glass.
Sophie screamed.
Elena covered her.
I leaned through the broken window and fired twice.
One vehicle swerved.
Silvio drove like a man forty years younger.
We hit a pothole hard enough to lift me from the seat.
“Where does this road go?”
“County highway.”
“How far?”
“Four miles.”
Another shot struck the SUV.
Sophie was crying now.
Not loudly.
That was worse.
She was trying to be brave.
I looked back.
“Sophie.”
Her eyes found mine.
“Remember chess?”
She nodded.
“What's the most important thing when someone attacks?”
She sniffed.
“You said don't panic.”
“Exactly.”
Elena stared at me.
“This is not the time for chess lessons.”
“It worked.”
Sophie took a shaky breath.
The road widened.
Ahead, I saw a bridge.
A familiar gray sedan appeared from the opposite direction.
Dante.
He blocked half the bridge.
Two men exited with rifles.
Our pursuers stopped.
One reversed.
The other tried to push through.
Dante's men disabled the front tires.
Silvio stopped the SUV.
I stepped out.
Dante ran toward me.
His relief was obvious.
“You look terrible.”
“You look slow.”
“Nice to see you too.”
Then he noticed Silvio.
His face changed.
“Jesus Christ.”
Silvio smiled.
“Dante.”
“You’re supposed to be dead.”
“I receive that often.”
Dante looked at me.
“Explain.”
“Later.”
A groan came from the disabled pickup.
One attacker was still conscious.
I approached.
Dante grabbed my arm.
“Could be wired.”
He checked first.
Clean.
We pulled the driver out.
Young.
Maybe thirty.
Blood on his forehead.
I recognized him.
Not one of DeMarco's men.
One of mine.
“Anthony?”
His eyes opened.
Fear.
That told me everything.
Anthony Greco worked Moretti warehouse security in Brooklyn.
“You shot at me.”
“I—”
“Who ordered this?”
He said nothing.
I crouched.
“I know you're scared.”
He looked at me.
“You should be.”
“Boss—”
“Who?”
His mouth trembled.
Then he whispered:
“Luca.”
Something inside me broke quietly.
Dante heard it too.
“No.”
Anthony began crying.
“He said you were becoming a liability. He said DeMarco would take the business and we'd all keep our jobs.”
I stood.
For fourteen years, Luca Ferraro had stood beside me.
He had carried my mother’s coffin.
He had been the first man at the hospital when my father died.
He knew where I slept.
What I ate.
Who I trusted.
Every weakness.
Every route.
Every secret.
Behind me, Sophie stepped from the SUV holding Elena's hand.
She looked at the wounded man.
Then at me.
“Is he one of your friends?”
I could not answer immediately.
Finally I said, “I thought he was.”
Sophie looked confused.
Elena understood.
She reached for my arm.
Just once.
A small touch.
But in that moment I needed it more than I would ever admit.
Dante approached.
“We need to move.”
“Where?”
“My place in Connecticut?”
“Too obvious.”
Silvio spoke.
“I know somewhere.”
I turned.
“No.”
“You don't trust me.”
“Correct.”
“Good. Your father trusted me once.”
His smile disappeared.
“Look how that ended.”
Elena stared at him.
“What place?”
Silvio answered:
May you like
“The church where Vittorio hid the first copy of the ledger.”
And suddenly the little brass key in Sophie’s hand felt heavier than any weapon I carried.
