by Suzanne Hart
This does stink. Something’s not right. I sighed heavily, looking skyward for inspiration. I could see the Mia Bella private helicopter lifting off from the roof, circling the building, then heading east. It was going in the opposite direction to the Leone estate. My stomach turned into a tighter knot. I knew Mia was on that bird, but I also knew something had gone wrong. Terribly fucking wrong.
I was looking around for Brown; he’d started to disappear in the crowd. I was jostled up against one of the cops. “What’s happening here, officer?” I asked, then I noticed the t-shirt underneath his cop jacket. I spun around, looking at the other cops. They were all the same, guys in cop jackets and hats with pants, not a badge showing between them… what the fuck?
Just then, some real cops started to arrive, with the blat-blat of their sirens, and the sound of their boots as they streamed out of a bus, out of some patrol cars. Now they were streaming into the crowd, breaking it all up. One by one, the jackets came off, folded or reversed; the hats were gone too. The fake cops just blended into the crowd and started to disappear. It was like a magic act.
I surged forward and grabbed the one I’d seen, clutching him by the throat, spinning him around. “Who the fuck are you people? What’s going on h--” I felt the cold steel of a gun barrel pushing into my dick.
“Easy champ, let go of my fucking throat, or I’ll spray your fucking seed all over these good people, got it?” I recognized the guy, and of course, it was one of Bernardi’s goons. A nobody, but I’d seen him once before, when we’d had to peel Mikey out of the gutter one time.
Fuck, this jackass was just a small fish in a very big pond. I let go of his throat, holding my hands up in front of him. “Okay, okay, no problems here, friend.” He sneered, then turned as quickly as he’d come, and vanished into the crowd, just like they all did.
Even the journalists had been staged. The real cops were looking around, a few scratching their heads. The original crowd had thinned within seconds, into a scattering of people, and were mostly trying to get out of the Mia Bella building after a long day at work.
What the fuck was going on here? I didn’t know, but I was going to find out. Brown was nowhere to be seen either. I pushed through the outpouring of people from the building, like a mad salmon forcing my way upstream.
The security desk was empty, a major red flag. Good for me though, as I was armed to the teeth under my jacket, getting through the scanner as it chimed red, while nobody even batted an eyelid. The focus on most people’s faces was to get out and go home. I had to get to Mia, wherever she was; and fast.
I finally found an elevator to take me to her office floor. No security there, either. I wanted to draw my sidearm, but it was too soon for that. I couldn’t risk being mistaken for a bad guy and ruin my chances at finding out what was happening.
A few employees were milling about, and a janitor had appeared, ready for the evening cleaning shift. Next, I put myself in front of the nearest person who looked like they’d know where Mia was.
“Mia Leone, I need to see her, right now. I’m Jack Slade, I work for her father.” The chesty brunette looked at me like I was offering her a turd. Then she took a step backward, the crazed look in my eye probably just registering.
“Umm, this is accounts, sir. Miss Leone is on the upper floors. We don’t have access to her. You don’t have an appointment?” I could see her walking backward to her desk, picking up the phone for security.
“Don’t bother,” I snapped. “There’s nobody there.” I spun on my heel, and went back out to the lobby. I noticed then, a door swinging open. It was next to the end of the hall, a stairwell that led up, a smear of red on the handle. Getting warmer, Jack.
I took as many flights up as I could, until I felt I’d reached the roof level. I instinctively drew my gun.
Jack! Jack! Help me! Jaaaack!
I could hear Mia, calling me in my mind. I knew she was on that helicopter, but why did I also know she was in even more danger than I could have imagined? I struggled internally for a second, pushing myself to the edge of my emotional limit before I felt, and practically saw the blinding white flash. Then, the straight edge of my soldier’s training clicked into gear. I had been trained to shut everything else out and focus on the task at hand. I would do that, just now.
I swept the rooms of the roof level, nothing. There was a huge glass atrium above, with rows of offices and storage rooms running the entire length. At the end, toward the massive shining glass doors which led out to the flat expanse of the roof, was the most likely place for the security office. I made my way there.
As I got closer, I could make out the shapes of men on the ground, the uniformed suits of Mia’s private security. I swung into the office, gun raised. There were three of them, pilots by the looks, all blankly staring up at me from the floor. Sharing the same dark circle above each of their temples.
I heard a groan from behind the desk, another of Mia’s security. He was alive. God, he looked really familiar, even with the longer hair.
“Jack Slade?” he murmured.
“Rich Little.” I knew that voice anywhere.
Six
Mia
My stomach was lurching in time with the huge helicopter as it circled sharply, then lifted steeply. I’d never liked flying, but I liked this even less. My first thought was that Jack had set me up, get on the helicopter so we can kidnap you. But no, that wasn’t it. Jack had known something was wrong, and he was trying to get me out of the building before they could get to me. Plus, Bernardi airlines? Are they fucking serious?
I would have given ten helicopters to have Jack with me at that moment, just to tell him myself. To let him know that I knew he didn’t set me up. And to hold him, and to be held by him. To have his stubble scratch my soft face and tell me everything was going to be alright.
I was already making deals with God. He doesn’t have to be inside me, okay? Not right now… he just needs to be here!
I’d walked right into a trap, okay. Shit happens. But now what? I couldn’t see out the windows, they’d been blacked out; and the cockpit never was visible from the passenger suite. I had my phone and my purse too. I’d resolved myself to silence, to wait and see what would happen next. If I let my feelings take over, I’d be clawing at the door, screaming my head off to be let out, to be taken home, to have Jack.
Jack! Jack! Help me! Jaaaack!
I hoped he was as smart as he was good looking, and that the electricity I felt between us wasn’t imaginary. Building an empire on my own, I’d learned a lot. The biggest take-home was, not to count on any one particular person for any one particular thing, even if you’d asked them to do it. I had to break that rule, just for a few moments, to tell myself that: no matter what happened, Jack would find me. He’d rescue me, most probably kiss me, and more, right there on the spot.
I sighed, drumming my fingers in anticipation. I hated not being in control, not knowing. And I hated flying even more. And, the thing I hated more than any of that... the sight of blood.
Jesus! This helicopter is ruined! What? Did this guy carry a bucket of blood on board with him? Fuck!
I moved to another seat, using a travel blanket from one of the overhead compartments to cover up the mess, and that man. That poor man! Oh, Jack!
Focus, Mia. Jack’s not here right at this minute. You’ll just have to manage on your own until he shows up. Boy! Won’t Papa be mad? Oh my fucking god! These guys may as well just crash this thing into the side of the nearest mountain. They are so fucking dead already.
A smile played across my lips. I felt myself relaxing. Mia Leone wouldn’t be missing for more than two minutes without somebody shitting a kidney over it. Of course, Giles would…
Giles.
The jigsaw fell into place in my mind, even though I didn’t understand or recognize every piece. But I didn’t have to. The connection was obvious. The Bernardi’s, Mikey, Giles. They were all connected somehow, and it had all led to me being st
rategically placed in my own helicopter, being taken goodness-only-knows where.
But, Mikey? What did you do, baby brother?
I toyed with the idea of calling for help on my phone. Who would I call... what would I say?
Hi! Yes, Mia Leone here. I’ve been kidnapped in my own luxury helicopter and I don’t know where I am, please send help?
They could trace the call.
Who?
To where?
Just sit tight Mia, relax. I checked the fridge, some OJ and champagne, Ugh! Strawberries and some chocolate. That will do nicely, chocolate and strawberries. Note to self: who’s drinking all this expensive champagne I pay for? Hmmmm.
I was full of chocolate, and had strawberry lip gloss too, when I felt the helicopter tilt again for a while, then straighten up. Then silence. I decided the best thing for it was to close my eyes, to try to relax. Maybe a quick power nap to help restore me. Internally, my emotions were going berserk, but I had the feeling I was being watched, so, just like at the office, the plastic Mia doll was in the window.
I reclined in the soft leather seat, and then I set the heater and massage to my liking. These really were fun! I kept forgetting how much luxury was at my fingertips. I tried never to take it for granted, but when it’s all in your face, it’s hard. I closed my eyes, then opened them again, examining the huge diamond I still had on my finger. Oops, hope your insurance covers it, in case I get killed, whoever it was who loaned it to us… I couldn’t remember right then.
I couldn’t ring for help because that would be pointless. But, I could… do something. I had to do something. Laying there like sleeping beauty wasn’t going to cut it, after all. Not until I’d left some breadcrumbs for Jack to follow.
I fetched another blanket, pulling it down from the overhead, and I put it out over myself. After that, I lifted my knees a little, building a little leg fort for myself; and, pretended to doze. Meanwhile, my free hand found my phone from my tiny little clutch purse.
Settings to show current location: check. Maps: check. Oh! There I am! Screenshot: check. I messaged a screenshot to Jack, with the message:
A little help, please.
Mia XX
Not sure if the kisses were too much, but he’d get the idea. He seemed smart enough, and might be able to figure something out from the line of flight, trajectory, or whatever the hell they called it.
Feeling like an evil mastermind on the side of good, I did doze off for a bit, then was shaken awake by some turbulence. They must’ve taken this thing pretty high. Four hours now, where the fuck are we going? I glanced over at the purple-black lump under the blanket again. Looking at it seemed to shrink the whole cabin, so I turned away again, ignoring it.
I managed to shoot Jack one more screenshot before I got the no signal message, and then the battery died. Hope that was enough for you to find me, Jack. I need you for real, now, not just in my fantasy.
The humming of the helicopter slowed after a time. I could feel it moving downward, my stomach lurching again. Even if I could see out the windows, it would be dark. So, I tried to steady myself internally for whatever was going to happen next. The Bernardi’s had just signed their own death warrants, but I really didn’t know if they were going to kill me, or just use me as a bargaining chip. And if so, for what? I didn’t know.
I’d made some nail-biting deals over the years, and had every confidence in my own negotiating skills, but I also knew when to keep my mouth shut. And this was that time.
The helicopter was shaken violently, there were huge gusts of wind, and water; I could hear it, even through the insulated interior of the passenger suite. A bumpy landing, but I felt a definite solid something underneath us, and the rotors had started to wind down.
My heart started to race, I wanted to cry out, to scream. I needed Jack more than ever, but I found myself thinking of Lottie for a second, strangely enough. Her jolly smile and cheeky wink helped to calm me as I heard my ears pop again, and the hissing of the hydraulics also made a sound as the leather-lined door opened, letting in what looked like a terrible tropical storm.
It was so bright in the cabin; I could hardly see outside, only making out the shape of some umbrellas. I noticed that one had been blown inside-out. Next, I heard cursing in Italian, then the steps whirred as they were let down. The clank of boots on the metal, then there he was, poking his head in through the cabin, blinking.
Carlo Bernardi.
I’d never seen him in person, only in photos, but I recognized him at once. His face was wet from rain, but his clothes were dry, like his cologne. He had a fedora hat on, which he held on from the belting wind, just to hide his baldness, I supposed. He smiled in a friendly, genuine way. I relaxed as soon as he did, but I was also aware of the fiery glint in his right eye. His left eye stayed the same.
He held out his large hand, open toward me, beckoning me softly with his fingers. His manicure looked more expensive than mine, and he had both hands done. I was at an automatic disadvantage.
“Please, Mia!” he said softly, like he was welcoming an old friend. “Come, come to the house. The weather, it’s-a-not good tonight. We can speak easier inside.”
I wanted to scratch someone for the second time that day, but I saw my hand go out to his. I was mesmerized by his calm, quiet voice, his smile. He was nice. And, it was frickin’ cold out there. I wanted to get somewhere warm, and fast. Ideally, my own apartment, but I knew if I played ‘em right, Jack would be along at some point to sort out this little misunderstanding. He’d better.
I took his hand; it was warm, and big, just like Papa’s. He smelled like citrus and sandalwood, dried in spice that was at one time, fresh, but earthy. He helped me down the steps, and then noticing my clutch purse, he tutted.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to mind this for you Mia, just for a moment.” He took it from me without my protest, and I’d done what I needed to do with my phone anyway, thank goodness.
Carlo Bernardi turned his head swiftly to one of the men lining the walkway from the helipad. His voice was suddenly cruel, frightening even. It sounded like an animal, biting into something, killing it. He was cursing his men in what sounded like a local Sicilian dialect, but I got the general idea.
“I told you, she’s not to have anything with her. You fucking morons! Idiots! She’s probably rang them and told them where she is! You’re all worthless cunts! All of you!”
He collected himself, turning to me again, smiling. I half-smiled back, pretending not to understand what was being said, or going on. He fumbled through the clutch, found the phone, and, even seeing the battery was flat, tossed it far over my shoulder after taking the battery out. There was a deep splashing sound some distance behind me; it was hard to hear over the wind and rain. He handed my purse back to me, smiling softly again.
“Please, come up to the house.”
Like I had a choice.
In the semi-darkness I could see we were walking on a boardwalk, a kind of floating pontoon, which was surrounded by towers and turrets, and shadowed figures of men in fatigues, with rifles raised, and resting the butts on their hips. I could make out the dim glow of cigarette embers sparking off into the night as the wind ebbed and howled as much as the waves beneath us.
My heels did well, and I would have to commend Fulvio, my chief shoe designer. These things ached like fuck after an hour, but seeing what I’d put them through today, they would be the star of the fall lineup. Thinking about work, about designs, and about work again, it held back the fearful emotions I’d often felt. That night was no different than a billion-dollar deal meeting. In fact, it was dog eat dog, and right now, this bitch was tied up. Just smile and nod, Mia. Jack will be here, any minute.
The walkway graduated down to a beach below, then sandstone steps went up to a sumptuous and well-lit landing. Large, hand-fired terracotta tiles gleamed in the rain, reflecting the brilliance of the chrome and glass beyond. It was a series of domes made of thick glass, surrounded by wha
t looked like, in the dark, Italian courtyards and a replicated Sicilian countryside.
I felt myself shudder, not so much from the cold, or from the fact that I was now a prisoner of the Bernardi family. It was this place. It had absolutely no class whatsoever. I could tell, too, that Bernardi had designed it himself.
Shame. And I knew at once we definitely were the better family.
Seven
Jack
“Little Dick.” That was the nickname somebody had come up with, for Richard Little, at boot camp. It cost them their life, once he’d had enough of hearing it. He beat the guy to death with his own belt. After that day, it was Rich Little, or just Rich. Ironic really, because after he’d been reported as being missing in action, he’d gone on to become one of the highest paid mercenaries anyone had ever... or rather, never heard of. That was just the way he liked it. Filthy rich, and with nobody who cared to look him up.
Having grown up with him in military school, I can debunk the nickname, too. If I was born without man parts, Rich would’ve even been my kind of guy. He was also one of the few people in this world I could say for sure that I trusted. Like most people who thought they knew him though, I thought he was dead, you know, probably killed by a mark somewhere. But not everybody you were paid to kill would just sit and wait to be shot. Most of them fought back. Nobody wanted to die.
And there he was, half unconscious on the flight deck security office. He had the suit that all of Mia’s security wore. It looked like he might’ve even been in charge.
“You look fat, Slade,” he quipped, rubbing his neck. His eyes were red slits.
“And you’re a sight for sore eyes, soldier.” I held out my gristly forearm, helping him up. He winced, then stumbled again. “What the fuck?” he murmured, grabbing at his shirt collar, producing a small, sharp barb, which seemed to have a micro-thin tube attached. It had been stitched into the collar.
