by Andy Rausch
Lefty smiled. “I'm not in the dick-shootin' business, but I could be at any moment. Tell me what I wanna know and maybe your dick lives to see another day.”
Brooks raised his Colt, firing into the man's shoulder. The guy screamed again.
“He'll talk now,” said Brooks.
“I had it taken care of,” said Lefty, irritated.
“Sorry. I was just itching to shoot somebody.”
Lefty nodded, looking back to the guy on the floor. “What's your name?”
“Dom,” said the man.
“You ready to talk, Dom?”
“What do you wanna know?”
“Where's your boss?”
“Bruno?” Dom asked.
“How many bosses you got, shithead?”
“Well,” said the guy. “Sometimes I work for Fat Pete, and sometimes…”
“Skip that,” said Lefty. “Where's Bruno?”
“They're down at Bruno's restaurant.”
“What's the place called?”
“Sabatelli's.”
Lefty was about to ask Dom what street Sabatelli's was on, but Brooks shot the guy between the eyes before he could. Lefty looked at Brooks, who just shrugged. “Shit happens,” he said.
Twelve
Blood Alley
Lefty parked the Caddy down the street from Sabatelli's. It took some pleading with her, but Dixie agreed to stay in the car with Layla. “I came to kill some motherfuckers, not sit in the car and listen to jungle music,” she said. Nevertheless, she stayed behind. Lefty and Brooks left Layla and Dixie in the Caddy with the AC blowing, Layla singing along to Teddy Pendergrass. As the professional killers strolled towards the restaurant, Lefty asked, “You think Layla will be safe with Dixie?”
“I do,” said Brooks. “That woman is a lot of words a polite man don't say, but she can hold her own. And Layla's pretty tough too. She's a little adult. I pity the guy who tries to kidnap her. She might Ju Klemto the motherfucker to death.”
As they approached the place, with its bright red awning hanging over the sidewalk and tables situated neatly out front, Brooks said, “Are we ready for this?”
Lefty said, “The question is, is Bruno De Lorenzo ready?”
The two men walked along the sidewalk with their guns out. Lefty was carrying his Glock. Brooks had his big Colt Python in one hand and the shotgun in the other. When they came to the glass door, they entered, Lefty leading the way.
There was some kind of Italian instrumental music playing overhead. The place was empty except for the two tables of mobsters next to the left wall. The walls were as red as anything Lefty had ever seen, but they would soon be much redder. The place was lined with glass candle holders containing lit candles. The mood would have been perfect for a romantic date, but that's not what Lefty was here for. He had a date, but it was far from romantic.
“We're not open yet, nigger,” said one of the men. Lefty recognized Bruno, having looked him up on the Internet. And he recognized the voice. “That's him,” he said. The mobsters were all coming to life now as they figured out who and what their visitors were. All the Italians went for their guns at the same moment.
“Kill these rat fucks!” commanded Bruno, pointing at them.
Lefty and Brooks swung their weapons up simultaneously, moving in opposite directions. One of the mobsters fired first and someone turned over Bruno's table to provide them with protection. Within seconds there were shots flying around the room from all sides. One of the mobsters jumped to his feet and came charging at them, but Brooks caught him with a blast from the shotgun, sending his dead body flailing back, bouncing off one of the tables.
“You motherfucker!” yelled one of the men.
Lefty caught one of the mobsters in the eye with a clean shot, and the man went tumbling back.
As everyone fired back and forth and the windows broke and the restaurant was being shot to hell, a door to the kitchen opened and a burly paesan came rushing through it brandishing a butcher's knife. He was heading for Lefty, but only managed three steps out the door before Brooks blew him away.
A moment later another man emerged, this one firing a .38 and hitting Brooks in the arm. “Motherfucker!” Brooks screamed out, dropping the shotgun. Lefty fired two shots into the man's face, and the man was no more.
“Nice shootin', nigger!” yelled Bruno. “That's what I'm gonna do to your kid!”
Lefty heard the door opening behind him. Before he could turn, he heard Brooks' Colt ringing out, firing at the goombas entering. They fired into the restaurant, their bullets whizzing past Lefty's head. Lefty scanned the room for cover. Seeing the cashier's counter ahead, Lefty broke into a sprint. As he ran, a hail of bullets zipped past him from the group of mobsters on his left. He was several feet from the side of the counter when he dove, rolling to safety behind it. He popped up and turned his Glock on the goombas, returning fire. As he did, a bullet struck the metal register next to his head, causing the money tray to pop open.
It was at this moment Lefty saw Brooks take a second bullet in his stomach. Brooks went crashing forward, his Colt Python firing a round upward, obliterating a ceiling fan overhead. Brooks had now been shot in both the stomach and his arm, yet that didn't slow him down. He began to pull himself forward, sliding on the wooden floor, leaving a streak of blood behind. Before he could make any progress, one of the goombas who had entered through the front door moved towards him, shooting him in the head. Brooks flew forward, crashing into the floor. Brooks Barker was dead.
Lefty looked at his dead partner and newfound father figure, and suddenly everything went hazy. The man who killed Brooks turned towards Lefty. Before the mobster could get a shot off, Lefty fired a round of his own, catching the man in the throat. The mobster reached up for the instantly-bloody wound, flailing and flopping as he did.
“No!” screamed Bruno. “You killed Pino! You killed Pino, you moulignon fuck!”
Lefty turned towards the mobsters against the wall, firing at them, but his shot went wide. Another goomba popped up from behind the turned table and Lefty shot him in the chest, dropping him instantly. Bruno popped up now, firing off a round. Lefty took a shot at him, but missed, hitting the edge of the table.
One of the men flung something in Lefty's direction. It was coming directly at him. Out of sheer instinct, Lefty caught it, realizing immediately it was a pineapple hand grenade! Also out of instinct, Lefty hurled it back. The grenade exploded while it was still in mid-air. As a result, it only killed two of the mobsters instead of the whole lot of them it would have killed had it reached its destination.
Lefty grabbed one of the bottles of alcohol from behind the cash register. He saw that it was whiskey, and he turned, hurling it towards the wall beside the mobsters, catching them offguard. He fired a couple of shots at them before snatching a glass container holding a burning candle and hurling it against the wall. When the glass exploded, the whiskey caught fire and high flames erupted at once.
Bullets continued to fly. Lefty saw one of the mobsters squatting beside a table, trying to reload his Glock. Lefty let off a shot, hitting the guy in his arm. The man flopped around for a second, clutching at his wound. As he did, Lefty took a second shot, hitting him in the temple, killing him instantly. Another mobster bolted for cover. He fired at Lefty, but his shot missed. Lefty shot him in the head.
There were three mobsters remaining, standing beside the now-raging fire. Lefty fired, but didn't hit them. One of them returned fire in his direction. Bruno emerged, firing again. Lefty popped off a shot, striking Bruno in the side, and Bruno fell back out of sight.
Another of the mobsters moved away from the tables, into the center of the room. He popped off two shots in Lefty's direction, burying themselves in the counter. Lefty fired at him, hitting him in the cheek. There was now only the one mobster, crouched beside a table. Lefty came out from behind the counter and moved towards him. The mobster stood and fired. Lefty kept moving, shooting two rounds. One struck the
mobster in the jaw, and the other in the ear.
In his peripheral vision, Lefty saw Bruno emerge from behind the table and take off towards the kitchen. Lefty spun and tried to fire, but the gun was out of bullets. Lefty stood there for a moment, ejecting his magazine and replacing it with another. When he was done, he ran towards the door, barreling through it with his gun up. Bruno was already out of sight, and Lefty knew he had to catch him if he was gonna get the money. He came to a corner on his left. He turned it, gun still out, and saw the back door standing open. Lefty rushed towards it, running into the alley. He looked to his left, seeing Bruno heading for an ambulance parked there, facing the opposite direction. Lefty fired a shot at Bruno, but missed him, striking the ambulance. The driver got out to see what was happening just as Bruno reached him. Bruno raised his pistol and shot the driver in the face. As the man fell to the pavement, Bruno hopped into the ambulance and shifted it into drive.
Lefty stopped and steadied his Glock. He fired twice at the left rear tire. At least one of the bullets hit their target, and the ambulance swerved into the brick wall. As Bruno struggled to regain control, Lefty fired a couple of shots, hitting the right rear tire. The ambulance swerved back and forth, scraping brick walls on both sides. Lefty was running again, hopping over the dead EMT. He wondered where the other EMT was—weren't there always two or three of them?—but kept moving. Suddenly the ambulance was slowing, almost to a stop. As Lefty reached it, he saw that a garbage truck was blocking the alley's entrance, trapping Bruno. Lefty ran around the left side of the stopped ambulance. He held his Glock up to the window in front of Bruno's face, motioning for him to get out. Bruno opened the door.
“Don't try anything stupid,” Lefty said.
Bruno climbed out, still grinning.
“Drop your gun, Bruno.”
Bruno dropped his pistol, which made a clanking sound as it struck the pavement. Still standing inside the open door, he turned to face Lefty. They were now eye to eye.
“Where's that little nigger girl?”
Lefty said nothing.
“How much money is my old man paying you to do this?” asked Bruno.
This surprised Lefty. “Your father is the one putting up the money?”
Bruno nodded, staring at him. “I don't know for sure, but I'm pretty sure it was that old cannoli-eating fuck.”
“You've got a really fucked up family.”
Bruno gave him a grin, still fully aware of his situation. “Tell me about it.”
“Why would Don Antonio want his own son dead?”
Bruno shrugged. “I don't know. I guess I did a coupla things he didn't care for. What do you care, nigger?”
Lefty pressed the tip of his Glock against Bruno's right eye socket.
Bruno said. “I banged his gumar—his favorite one.”
“That's it?”
“In the ass,” said Bruno, adding, “And me and my boy Pino had a bukkake party with her. I filmed it and somehow the video ended up on the Internet.” Bruno laughed. “And then he found out I was moving drugs for one of his rivals. He thought I was betraying him. I don't know, there were a few things like that. He also thinks I stole some money.”
“So your dad put a hit on you.”
Bruno nodded. “Apparently. How much is my contract anyway?”
“Two million.”
Bruno looked impressed. “Two million? I knew the old man hated me, but damn. That's good, I guess.”
“What do you mean?”
“It's a respectable figure. I'd be embarrassed if he was just offering a hundred thou for my head.” He looked up at Lefty, completely serious. “Let's talk turkey, you and me.”
“Gobble gobble.”
Bruno smirked. Lefty didn't.
“Okay, you're a serious dude, I get it,” said Bruno, nodding. “I got money. I got lots of money. I got more money than the Vatican got kiddie diddlers. He's offering you two million, I'll give you three. How about that?”
Lefty stared at him, unblinking, the Glock still pressed against his eye.
“Okay, okay,” said Bruno, starting to panic. “There's no reason for this. Four million. I'll give you four million. What do you think? I'll give you four, you just walk away, and we pretend none of this happened.”
“But it did,” said Lefty.
“But did it?” asked Bruno. “Did it really?”
Lefty's finger tightened around the trigger. “Your guys killed my friend Brooks and you threatened my little girl. So yeah, it happened.” Lefty lowered the Glock, firing a round into Bruno's knee cap. Bruno yelped, falling to the pavement. Now that Bruno was on his knees, Lefty slid his pistol into its holster. He put his hands around Bruno's head, his thumbs over his eyes. Lefty forced his thumbs forward, pushing them through Bruno's eyes. With Bruno's screams loud in his ears, Lefty pushed his thumbs into Bruno's head, feeling the wet eyeballs squish and pop beneath them. He removed his thumbs, looking down at what he'd done.
Bruno was on his knees, screaming, his hands up over his bloody eye sockets. He fell back into the open door of the ambulance. Lefty straddled him. He held Bruno's head down against the inside of the door with his right hand. With his left, he gripped the door. Mustering all the strength he could, Lefty slammed it hard against Bruno's head, smashing it. He did this repeatedly until Bruno's head crushed in and the goo from his eyeballs spurted back out. Lefty stood erect, staring down at the bloody pulp that was formerly Bruno's head.
Thinking it was over, Lefty started to turn, finding himself face to face with Dixie's .45.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, startled.
“What does it look like?”
“It looks like I'm getting screwed.”
“Drop the gun, Lefty.”
Lefty did as she instructed and dropped the Glock.
“Where's Layla?”
“I killed her.”
Lefty was caught offguard and he felt his heart in his throat. “You what?”
Dixie laughed before saying, “The girl is okay, Lefty. I didn't hurt her. She's still listening to her shitty music in the car.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Isn't it obvious? I want the money.”
“I was gonna give you half.”
Dixie chuckled. “I know, but I want it all. Dixie doesn't do half.”
“Was this always the plan? Were you and Brooks in on this together?”
“No,” said Dixie. “It was always the plan for me, but Brooks had no clue. Truthfully, I was gonna kill him too, but somebody beat me to it.”
Lefty stared at her in disbelief. “You were gonna kill Brooks?”
“I haven't cared about that sonofabitch since Bruce Jenner had balls.”
“So you're gonna kill me?”
“Yeah,” Dixie said dryly. “I'm gonna kill you.”
Lefty shook his head in disgust. “What about Layla? What happens to her?”
Dixie sneered. “Why should I care about your goddamn kid?”
She repositioned the pistol, making a point to aim it right between his eyes.
“Say goodbye, dickhead,” she said.
“Goodbye, dickhead.”
At that moment a silenced shot struck Dixie in the side of her neck. Before Lefty could register this, there was a second shot, causing Dixie's brains to explode from her head. She fell forward, her head striking the ambulance door. Lefty turned to see Orlando standing there with his pistol raised.
“You gonna shoot me now?” asked Lefty.
“Nah,” said Orlando, grinning. “There aren't too many of us brothers in the biz. We gotta stick together. We're kindred spirits, you and I.”
Orlando put out his fist. Lefty raised his hand, still holding the Glock, and bumped it.
Lefty nodded, catching his breath. “What do we do here?”
“We split the money down the middle. You were gonna split it with this bitch, now you can split it with me. Then we get out of Detroit.”
Lefty nodded
. “Sounds good, but why would you wanna team up with me?”
“Like I said, kindred spirits. Besides, I'm a man of honor. I could kill you now and take all the money, but I'm not that guy. Besides, I heard her say you had a daughter. Little girls need daddies.” He paused before saying, “Let's go get our money.”
“Wait a sec,” said Lefty, fishing his cell phone from his pocket. He raised it, snapping a pic of Bruno's crushed head. “For proof that we killed him,” he said. The two hitmen then turned and ran up the alley. As they did, a portly mustached EMT emerged from a door on their left. He was eating an oversized sub sandwich. Orlando raised his pistol at the EMT's head, and the man shrugged and went back inside. Lefty and Orlando continued running up the alley and around the building.
“Let's take my car,” said Lefty.
“Sounds good,” said Orlando. “Mine's fucked up.”
“Have a fender bender, did ya?”
Orlando nodded. “Some asshole climbed on the hood and I had to get him off.”
When they got back to the Caddy, Layla wasn't inside. “Christ,” he said, looking around. “It's my little daughter. She's gone.”
“What do you wanna do?”
Lefty looked down the street at Sabatelli's. “She musta gone looking for me. We gotta go back.”
Orlando said. “I'll wait here.”
Lefty turned and hustled back to the restaurant. He ran inside, stepping over the dead mobsters. The place was now filled with smoke, and there was fire raging all around. Lefty couldn't see. Fire and smoke was everywhere.
Was Layla here?
“Layla!” he screamed. “Layla, are you here?”
“Daddy!” came the frightened voice.
“Layla?”
“Daddy, help me! I'm trapped!”
Her voice came from within the bowels of the fire. Lefty was afraid of fire and never would have run into it under any other circumstance, but this was his little girl. This was Layla. Without hesitating, Lefty barreled into the fire. He squinted, trying to see, coughing on the smoke as he did.
“Layla!” he cried out.
“Daddy!”
