This is part of my newest project. In it, I pit a psychopathic hitman against the Chicago mob.
The Devils Due: Vendetta
Vinny Carazi sat on the plush couch waiting, he had come here at his cousin Sylvester’s request that he reach out to the head of the cities largest street gang. The Sinners were a loose group of small to midsized street crews that specialized in parting teenagers from their parents money. The noise coming from the huge bank of loudspeakers was almost painful in his ears. Vinny knew the rave scene well enough to admire the business aspect, even if he didn’t approve of the seedier side of the party scene. He had come to these impromptu parties several times to drag his younger sister out and take her home to sober up. Gina Carazi had been the hellion of the family before their father died in a boating accident. She had been devastated by the loss, being the baby of the family and the only girl she had always been the apple of their fathers eye. Even when she was sneaking out to party with her friends through her last year of high school and had taken to drinking and popping the pill of the week at these raves, she had remained their fathers little girl. After the accident, Vinny had been afraid for months that she would go back to the party scene and kill herself with the drugs. The opposite had happened though. To Vinny’s surprise she had come out of her depression after a few months and was a changed person. She still hung out at the raves, it was her familiar setting and where all of her friends were, but she had stopped the drugs and hardly drank at all. She wanted the surroundings, a reminder of better times, but she kept her wits about her.
Gina was how this meeting had been arranged. Even the highest levels of the Chicago families had no influence over the technologically savvy and notoriously paranoid groups that catered to the underage rave scene. No one even knew the leaders of the groups for certain. What was known was that Gina Carazi knew them and on behalf of her father she had occasionally acted as a go between when the Sinners and the mob inadvertently bumped heads.
The Sinners weren’t just one crew, they were several and they only came together to host these parties. The flood of cash produced by setting these raves up and supplying the young attendees with all of the party favors and the latest designer drugs was immense. Vinny had heard estimates of as much as a half million a night for some of the largest parties. He knew the Council did not approve of them, Victor Genero called the drug culture a scourge against civilization, but even he couldn’t deny that there was lots of money to be made from these kids. There was a lot of risk as well. The cops wanted these parties stopped desperately. Every one left behind at least a handful of dead or comatose teenagers, their minds lost or their hearts blown out by the powerful synthetic cocktails that were the fashionable poison of the day. Each rave was unique, the Sinners would arrange a place, get a popular band or D.J. lined up, set up everything and no one knew where or when until literally minutes before it started. Word would go out to a select group and then they would alert others who would in turn alert even more people. By the time the cops found out where it was, it would be over and the Sinners would fade back into the shadows of the city until the next one was ready.
Vinny waited impatiently, his sister had told him to be here at 10:00 and to wait for her to come get him. It was now after 10:30 and while Vinny trusted his sister implicitly, he hadn’t lived to be an underboss in the mob by being careless. He looked around the room, picking out the two young street soldiers he had hidden in the sweaty, writhing crowd of teens and twenty somethings. Looking at some of the people jerking on the dance floor like epileptic monkeys, he discovered that these raves were not only for the younger crowd. There were actually quite a few older men and women mixed in with the underaged crowd. He had always thought that these affairs were strictly limited to the under 21 set. He would have to ask his sister what the deal was. The mob had always taken a hands off approach to these things because of the heat dealing with kids could bring. But parting grownups from their money was mob territory.
Vinny’s musings were interrupted by the arrival of his sister. The pretty raven haired woman was accompanied by two young, oriental men. Gina Carazi waited while the men patted her brother down and relieved him of his holstered 9mm pistol. One of the men tucked the weapon inside his waistband, briefly showing that he was heavily tattooed. Even the small area of wrist that was visible when he moved appeared covered with ink. Vinny recognized the markings and the efficient, businesslike manner in which the silent men went about their task. When they were satisfied that he was now unarmed, Gina smiled and took her brothers arm, leading him through the crowd with the two Triad gangsters following close behind.
Gina guided her older brother through the dense crowd easily, the young partiers making a path ahead of her and closing off the avenue immediately behind, as though they had done so a hundred times before. Vinny felt almost dizzy from the gyrating bodies, the heat of so many people crowded together and the acrid smell of marijuana and God knows what else which filled the air like the cities smog on a calm day. By the time they reached the far end of the warehouse and started up the stairs, Vinny was disoriented and glad that the sound was less deafening this far from the huge speakers that still pounded out a staccato rhythm against his chest. He paused at the top of the metal stair, looking out over the crowd below. He realized now that the path through the throng of stoned partiers had been a winding one. He was certain that it had been deliberate. A route designed for the purpose of separating him from the two undercover bodyguards, who were now lost in the jumble of bodies below. He looked at his sister, her smile and the devious sparkle in her eyes letting him know that his guess was correct. Gina opened the metal door and the two triad men ushered him into the glass walled room.
Thomas groaned as he thrust himself into Angie one last time. Her hips arched upward to take him and her lithe legs wrapped tightly around his waist, her body shuddering in her own release as she felt him spend himself. He collapsed onto her small frame, burying his face in the wide splayed mane of red hair that spread across the white pillowcase like a fountain of blood. His lips found her sweat sheened neck and he nibbled at her smooth, pale skin bringing another moan of pleasure. When his lips found hers she dove deeply into them, relishing the taste of his exertion mixed with her own. Bright green eyes met his steel gray gaze as he kissed the tip of her delicate nose gently. She always liked that when they finished face to face, Thomas didn’t know why, but it pleased her and the way she closed her eyes and bit her lower lip when he did it pleased him.
He rolled to his side, laying back on the pillow and placing one tanned arm under his head. Angie snuggled up tightly to his side, throwing one lightly freckled arm across him and propping her chin on his chest. Her other hand slowly traced the jagged scars on his chest as she looked at him. Thomas saw that the contented smile on her face held a questioning look.
“What is it Angie? I can see the question in your eyes, so spit it out.” He said with a grin at the inference.
She laughed, but quickly turned serious. “Your friend Sal, he was very nice but I don’t think he likes me. I don’t understand why.”
Thomas thought a moment before telling her “It isn’t that he dislikes you, babe. He just has a complicated job he wants me to do and he is worried that you would be a distraction.”
Angie realized what that meant. She stiffened a little and asked “What do you think? If you do the job would I be a distraction?”
“Yes” He said. “You would be. I will be dealing with some unpleasant people and if they find out about you they won’t hesitate to use you against me. But that won’t matter. You won’t be here anyway. I have something else for you to do while I do Sal’s job for him.”
He saw the look on her face and set her at ease. “In two days we are going home. My home in Arkansas. This job doesn’t start for another month, so that gives us plenty of time get you settled in and for me to do my preparations. I think you’ll like my house. It’s way out in the mountains and the scenery is beautiful. You can get the place suited to you and we will be making a few fun trips to Chicago as well.”
He could tell from her expression that she had gotten as far as the part where she was going home with him to stay. She moved in a sudden burst and landed on top of him, her face a green eyed blur wrapped in a blood red halo as she sat atop him and dove her lips into his.
Thomas’ cabin, outside Ft. Smith Arkansas
Mike Colletti had pulled his men off their stakeout of Thomas cabin after weeks of no one showing up. Instead, he had hired a private detective from the city of Fort Smith to keep tabs on the place and alert him of any activity. The private detective, John Cabbot, had diligently carried out his task for a few days, before realizing that the mobster who had hired him was not going to be sending anyone to check up on him. So he had hired a local pot grower and his crew to watch the place and split the fee with them. Henry Torrent and his two nephews were not busy in their pot patches this time of year and the extra money for just driving out to the isolated cabin was easy beer money for the fall. Henry had been instructed to do nothing more than watch the place and alert the detective if anyone showed up. He and his nephews had discussed robbing the empty home, but had decided to wait and see if anyone showed, then maybe rob the owner and the house. Cabbot had not informed his crew of derelicts that the job was for a Chicago mob kingpin.
Henry Torrent was sitting in his pick up, sipping at his bottle of whiskey as usual, when he saw the silver, dual cab Ford pulling a white cargo trailer coming up the road. From his parking spot in the shadows of the abandoned lumber mill across the street he watched as the truck slowed. An obviously big man with short, dark hair was driving and a flash of long, red hair identified the much smaller person sitting beside the driver as a female. That peaked his interest as he saw the trucks turn signal come on. The silver truck turned into the gravel drive leading to the cabin that he had been hired to watch. It appeared that the person he had been hired to look out for had arrived.
Henry reached for his phone. His instructions had been simple but clear. Do nothing but report the arrival when someone came to the isolated cabin. He stopped mid dial. His alcohol fogged brain considering the options that he and his nephews had talked about over the last few weeks. They were making a few hundred a week to watch the place, but there was always the possibility of making even more. They had looked in the windows of the house several times, it appeared to be very nice but not much was in view from their available looking spots. To Henry that meant hidden things. Hidden things meant money, perhaps even more money than he was getting from the simple task of watching the place. There had been only the one man and the redhead woman in the vehicle, he hadn’t gotten a very good look at either person but it was the number that interested him. If there were only two people and the trailer, the enclosed type people called toy haulers, had expensive items in it, there could be an opportunity here. Henry lay the phone back in the trash covered seat and pulled his binoculars from a satchel behind the seat back and slipped out of the truck into the cold.
The backwoods born pot grower slipped almost silently through the trees, the rustle of his passage lost to the wind that stirred the dry, crackly leaves that covered the ground like a carpet. The trees were nearing their bare state as the cold of late fall took hold and nature retreated to hibernate till spring. The lack of foliage meant he could not approach too closed to the cabin for fear of being seen and alerting his prey. Henry stopped about a hundred yards out from the building and its newly arrived occupants. He put the binoculars to his eyes and scanned the front of the cabin for the man and woman.
He saw the man first, suddenly glad that he had stayed this far back. He saw the size of the man and the way he moved and knew that if he was caught, there would be a painful price. He watched as the man unloaded bags from the cab of the silver Ford. The redhead came out from the side of the house, bouncing down the steps as though she were an excited child on Christmas morning. Henry whistled silently to himself. She was a beauty. The woman threw her arms around the mans neck and hugged tightly, her feet well off the ground as she clasped the much taller man. When she let go, she grabbed two of the small bags and took off, back into the house. The big, dark haired man grabbed two larger ones and started for the porch himself. Behind him. Henry heard the loud sound of a semi trucks jake brakes split the silence of the trees. The man on the porch turned and looked towards the sound, straight at where Henry crouched barely a hundred yards away. In his binoculars Henry glimpsed the eyes of the man. He still wore the smile that the pretty woman had put there with her antics, but his eyes showed no sign of the smile. Henry felt a chill crawl down his spine as the man turned back to the cabin. Maybe he should just do what he had been hired to do and call Cabbot. Henry would talk to his nephews, the oldest and largest of the two was Billy, he could probably match the owner of the cabin and he had a thing for tiny girls. As he slowly backtracked his way out of the woods, Henry idly wondered what they could get for the girl in Houston, if there was anything left worth having when Billy got done with her.