by Brick
“I’m almost out of ammo,” Lucky said.
“Yeah, me too, nephew.”
“There’s too many of them, and they’ve blocked us off from getting to the other side.”
“I know. I gotta make it out of this bitch alive. I gotta take care of my woman’s children, nephew. She wouldn’t want me to leave ’em, and she wouldn’t want me to leave you, either. Ya mama ain’t shit, but I wouldn’t wanna bring her dead son back to her. So listen,” I said, then looked out at the chaos. “There is a dead Knight about two feet to ya left. He’s got a MAC-11 and probably some more weapons on him. I’ll cover you as you get to him. Get his weapons.”
I watched Lucky look to where I was directing him. The boy took direction well. He ran in where I told him, while I made sure to keep the heat off his back. It happened quicker than I expected. While he went for the gun, I emptied mine, shooting at the opposition. Lucky picked up the MAC-11, and as if his name was Tony Montana, he let that pretty bitch spray the air, taking down Knights and anybody else who got in the way.
My shoulder bled like a stuck pig. I felt myself getting weaker, and my shoulder felt as if all feeling was dissipating in it. Men in robes surrounded us. It seemed for every one man we took down, three more showed up in his place. Lucky looked at me as he dived behind the pillar where I was, and in that moment, I could tell we were thinking the same thing. It was quite possible we had met our end. That shit scared me. I wasn’t gon’ front about it.
Lucky tossed me another MAC-11 from one of the downed Knights. A year ago, I’d been ’bout ready to go be with my woman. But after coming across King’s journal again, remembering how she loved him, it was safe to assume that if there was an afterlife, Mama was back with him. Shit saddened a brother on some real shit. I was a lonely-ass old man. And that was probably why I had been seeing Rowena more. She filled a void in me, a void that the kids couldn’t fix.
Something similar had crossed Lucky’s mind. I could tell by the way his brows furrowed as we came together and then stood back-to-back.
“I figure if we gone die, nephew, we may as well take as many as these motherfuckers with us as we can. You ready?” I asked him.
“Naw. Not really. I hadn’t planned on dying tonight, but, shit, if it’s war these motherfuckers want, then let’s show ’em how we get down,” he spat.
“Let’s do it,” I said.
Lucky went left, and I went right. If I was gonna die tonight, I’d go out fighting.
Chapter 21
Javon
If predictability could be a watch, then that shit was always on time in this world. I sat back under a secluded Roman-style cabana, and as I sat there, I stared at a motherfucker who kept watching us. See . . . I knew coming up into a place that felt like a hotbed of fire ants, namely, a spot that possibly was associated with the Knights of St. Assisi, was a gamble. But, hell, I could play a mean game of Yahtzee, so I rolled that die. I knew that no matter what, I’d come out with the information that I wanted and needed.
So, as I sat there, playing the scared financial security analyst, I made sure to be ready. Silk-clad bodies with various curves and of different ethnicities undulated before us, dancing for “Don St. John’s” entertainment and flinging silk panels toward us. I watched, in thought, as a stick-thin sista who had sad eyes fed Armani wine from a goblet with her lips. Another dancer, a white girl with brown hair, landed in a handstand and tried to make her tiny ass shake. Meanwhile, a third tired, thin Latina with overly bleached hair that didn’t match her complexion fanned Armani.
This shit up in here was wild. “Master and slave” was thrown around like everyday bullshit, while “servicing” was done, with pride on display, in the cabanas next to us for anyone to see. Glancing at my brother, I was ready to go. I knew that Cory was going to be effective in scoping out the joint. That would then lead Uncle Snap to get a little deeper in the belly of the beast. After that, I knew Lucky was going to back him up, which would possibly cause some shit to go off, and that, too, paid off.
Undoing my jacket as I slowly stood up, I kept my attention on a man who felt familiar to me. Off in the distance, amid a group of businessmen, stood an unassuming man in a dark gray suit and a white open-collar shirt. His dark hair was pulled back in a man bun. He had a slight pale brown hue to him, which suggested either that he had just come back from a trip where there was plenty of sun or that he might be Sicilian. For me, it was possibly both.
Light from the open pavilion danced at that nigga’s feet until it flashed in my face. With steely eyes and a sharp jaw, this nigga looked like the poster boy for a Valentino advertisement.
Ain’t nothing happenstance, Von. In life, every bit of information thrown at you can be in the form of a sign, misuse of a word, or action. You have to just be smart enough to read those cues. It was Mama talking to me, reminding me what I needed to do versus what I wanted to do.
So I listened. My memory was fucking with me, because I knew that I had seen this bastard somewhere. When recognition hit, I moved near Cory.
“Get Giana to safety,” I said in a low voice to Alex, then looked at my brother.
Like the trained assassin he was, Alex remained low key as he took Giana by the arm. “Yes, sir. I’m being told there’s a scrabble going on in the club, sir.”
“Wait, wait . . . What’s going on?” Giana said, looking confused and stunned. She reached under her dress, fiddled with something near her crotch area, then pulled out a gun.
“That’s Lucky and Unc. I feel it in the air. Keep her safe, and, Giana . . . fuck some shit up, Mama. Just don’t get hurt or die,” I ordered.
With a quick sleight of hand, making it look like I was going for my drink, I leaned down to grab my suitcase.
“What’s up?” Cory asked, looking toward where I was staring. “Hold up. That’s Absolan’s personal guard. His adopted heir, ain’t it?”
“Yeah. I believe his name in Fabian O’Neil, and judging by the way he’s quickly getting up, and how his security, Luciano’s men, are texting and grabbing him, he realizes that we shouldn’t be seeing him.”
Last year, when I met the Commission, my meeting Absolan’s personal right hand had been a quick thing, because the guy had been on his way to the Vatican. The fact that this nigga hadn’t been accounted for when Absolan was taken and only now was on the radar made the pieces of this tricky puzzle come together, because at his side were two dudes from Luciano’s security team. This shit was an inside game, and the proof stared at me from afar.
“Cory,” I said calmly, still watching Fabian. When that nigga gave a slick smile and nodded my way, I felt a chill of awareness run down my spine. “Follow him.”
“Already on it,” Cory said, then walked toward the crew. “Bitches are running. Be on alert.”
I nodded at my brother, then looked down. “Mr. St. John.”
Lounging in la-la land, while eating a palm full of purple grapes, Armani rolled to his side and looked at me.
“I believe it’s time for you to escort me out.”
“Wha-a . . . Why?”
“Get your bumbling, entitled, borderline sick ass the fuck up now,” I barked, then cleared my throat, looking around. I could hear screams kicking off and behind that bullets being discharged.
“Oh, shit! Who’s shooting?” Armani quickly shot up from where he was lounging. The casual Roman-style robe he wore shifted in a manner that made his balls and his ass end up on display.
My eyes turned into quick slits out of annoyance. “If you’re trying to stick around to find out, then by all means, keep being stupid. But if you are really as smart as our Commission friends seem to think, then you’ll—”
Before I could finish, Armani flipped over his table, reached down into a pile of pillows, then tossed something at me. “Perks of VIP legacy membership,” he said with an amused look on his face, pulling out some other things.
When I caught what Armani had thrown, I saw that it was a pump shotgun. Without
even a blink of an eye, I widened my stance, pressed that shit against my shoulder, and quickly pointed it toward Cory’s back. My brother was rushing into the crowd, which seemed to swarm him like bees from a hive. When he pivoted, trying to cut through the people, I aimed over his shoulder and let out several rounds toward Fabian’s crew.
My aim was on point, as was shown by one of Luci’s turncoats gripping his shoulder. I watched Cory disappear in the crowd. Hands came out of nowhere in the mix, and I saw that it was Cory who sliced a blade against the throat of another one of Fabian’s people, almost snatched at the nigga, but was forced back by security hands. I pumped off another round. Armani was at my side, aiming at people who were rushing in and shooting back at us.
Fabian was being flanked. He shouted out orders that had a few of his men breaking off and going in different areas, while some came our way. In the middle of the chaos, he took the opportunity to disappear behind a statue.
“Shit. This is like the good old days,” he said, laughing. He then flung back the bottom of his robe to drop to one knee in some type of desperado-looking move. He grinned wide, aimed his guns, and shouted, “Don’t harm the pretty flowers, assholes.”
My mouth pursed. Dude was crazy as a coon, which reminded me of something. “We need to clear the area now. Left a little present, which is about to go off,” I said.
“All right,” Armani said, hopping up. As he did so, he took two fingers and put them in his mouth and whistled. “Young man, come flank your family.”
I saw Cory look my way. I gave a nod, and I watched him turn while pulling on one of Fabian’s men. The hell was my fam, my people? I wondered. My eyes searched the open area, found nothing. Uncle Snap and Lucky, where the hell were they?
“Where does that statue lead, Armani?” I pointed away from me, strapping my shotgun to my back and taking a pistol that was being handed to me.
Armani gave a look and frowned while he pulled out a final gun. “Leads to the BDSM zone. You don’t need to go that way. You’ll get lost up in those halls and caged in.”
“But you do know the way out through there, correct?” I asked. I just needed to know as I followed him to a wall of flowers and vines.
“Yes, son. But I don’t want to die today, so I’m taking you out through the emergency exit route,” Armani explained. He motioned for us to follow him. “The halls are purposely narrow for situations like this that might occur.”
“No doubt,” was my only reply. I watched him move the planter vases to the side and push against a hidden panel. The panel sank into the wall and revealed a dark entryway. A set of stairs appeared, and I could see windows that gave a view of a back alleyway. Behind me, bodies peppered the lush green garden. Something had gone down. It made me worry about Uncle Snap.
Shit. I even had concern about Lucky. I knew and had faith that they each could hold their own. There would be no way that they would be alive today if they couldn’t manage on their own. I just didn’t want either of them dying on my watch for coming into this cesspool. But above anything else, I couldn’t take it if something went down with Uncle Snap and I lost him.
“U-up ahead has the mark of St. Assisi.” That was Cory. He was panting, with a mixture of sweat and blood running down his face. He had exerted himself by running and dragging by the throat a nigga who was trying to struggle against his hold. When he’d snapped that fool’s neck forward to slam him against a wall in the corridor, I calmly stepped in front of the guy.
Just then that loud explosion sounded—one of my babies snuck in, in my suitcase. The force was intense. We could hear feet thumping around and men shouting about where we all could have disappeared to. I used that moment to reach back in my suitcase. Once I got what I was aiming for, I calmly slapped the chest of that dude I was standing in front of, the one Cory had slammed against the wall.
Anger was reflected in the periwinkle hue of the man’s eyes before me, and I stood there in his face, silent. My jaw clenched. Armani was up the stairs, locking down the passage. All we could hear were loud blasts and shouting, and then it sounded as if screams were coming from the walls. During all of that, we were in flickering red light and darkness.
Finally, ready to talk, I kept my voice even and without emotion as I stood face-to-face with a traitor. “Hello. I believe your name is Stefano?”
Cory squeezed, and a ruddy undertone washed over Stefano’s rough features. I could still see that he was fighting, but he was losing due to having issues breathing.
“At any time I can tell my brother to crush your esophagus. Because it’s hell above our heads right now, I really am trying to be logical about this shit. So, let me repeat myself. Your name is Stefano, correct? A soldier and protector to Don Luciano.”
“Y-yes,” Stefano answered.
“Tell me . . .” I slowly slid my hands into my slacks and kept my stance before continuing. “How do you find yourself working for Fabian and turning your back on Luciano? It’s Fabian who’s after Luciano, am I correct?”
Once again, Stefano bucked. A sharp cough came from him. He strained, and tears fell down his face.
“Talk and we can finish this,” I said calmly as Cory squeezed, then twisted his blade into Stefano’s side. “We all can go about our business and forget this happened. You know who I am, correct?”
Stefano nodded.
“Then you know I stand by my word, correct?”
When Stefano nodded again, I smiled. “So explain.”
Cory loosened his grip, and Stefano coughed. “For my family, I do everything.”
“What does your family have to do with this?” I asked. “Is it about loyalty to Absolan versus Luciano?”
“Yes,” Stefano croaked. “Absolan . . . Absolan is the true heir. And through him, the Commission will be purified and made great again.”
A deep chuckle came from me. Here we go with this bullshit, I thought. “So Absolan wasn’t kidnapped, huh?”
When Stefano lunged forward, I moved to the side and slammed my fist in his throat. I watched the man almost crumble to his feet, which allowed me to slam my knee in his face. Calmly, I snatched his head back and snarled.
“I asked a question.” Tapping the disk, which was a bomb in disguise, against his chest, I watched lights on it blink rapidly. “Absolan wasn’t kidnapped, huh?”
“Solummodo ex vera pura possint imperare a sanguine omnium nostrum,” Stefano gruffly spat out. He tried to pull at the bomb. He looked at us, then smiled. “Militum laudibus St. Assisi.”
I reached out and cracked his head against the wall. “I am about tired of this shit.” Each blow was harder than the last, until blood decorated the wall. Pissed all the way off, I punt kicked that nigga’s body. “The fuck you say, little nigga, huh?” I shouted in annoyance. “What Latin shit was that?”
“Let’s go before we blow the fuck up, kuya.” It was Cory’s voice. He grabbed my arm and pulled me so I would stop stomping on that nigga’s body.
“My bad,” was all I could muster. I was pissed all the way off.
“I feel you. This is some round about fuck shit right here,” Cory said while rushing forward. I followed him.
When we ran into Armani, we pulled that fool with us.
“He said, ‘Only the blood of the true pure can rule us all. Praises to the St. Assisi.’ Luciano will erase them all. Now go left,” Armani shouted.
As we did, we burst through a set of double doors that led down to another level of the building. We ended up in a large room with nothing but gilded mirrors, several chandeliers, and slick wooden flooring. It was a ballroom.
“Straight ahead,” he ordered, rushing through the large, empty ballroom.
The abrasive sound of guns going off grew louder. “Where is that coming from?” I asked.
Looking over his shoulder, Armani frowned. “There’s many ways to get around this club. I believe that’s from the BDSM area. You can get to it from here.”
It was at that moment that I heard
a loud crash and the boom of my bomb. When we all looked, we could see several bodies flying down past the large paneled windows in the ballroom. The route we had taken to the ballroom was turned into rubble from the impact of the bomb. We had to get up out of here, and without the fun gunplay, but I knew that bomb was going to draw others, so I counted our blessings and readied myself.
“Whoa. Was that Lucky?” Armani asked incredulously.
“Hell, if we know,” Cory said, rushing forward to look. Then he laughed, shook his head, and gave a nod. “Yeah. So. Let’s bounce, because Uncle Snap just flew by too.” Cory made a falling motion with his hand while whistling, indicating that Unc had fall out the window too.
“Oh, shit,” I said, shocked. There was no way that I couldn’t laugh at that.
“Over here,” I heard someone shout. The voice came from over by one of the several decorative mirror panels on the wall. Each one vibrated; then two slid open.
“A’ight. Let’s go,” I shouted.
Both Cory and I pulled out our Glocks. We shot off rounds and shattered the mirrors as we jogged to the stairway that led to the exit below. Shards of glass peppered the smooth flooring. We could see men in robes hunkering down behind the open doors that were mirrors. Others stepped forward in the same black attire that matched that of the men who had chased us when we first landed. This shit was pouring out like roaches from a wall, and a truth was finally settling in my mind. All of this was too close to home, and the reason for this was that Luciano no longer had secure backing.
“We need to get Uncle Snap and Lucky, then get to the hospital.” I rushed out to Cory, and he then ran by my side.
I popped off my shotgun and then swung it into my bag so that I could grab the Glock that I had on me, thanks to Armani.
“Got you covered.... Shit,” Cory hissed. His neck was bleeding, liquid seeping from where he held his hand to his neck. “Bitch grazed me.”
