As I got older I explored meditation and various other ways to allow myself to quickly find that stillness. I learned how to be still while moving, and even in the midst of a whirlwind of activity my mind remained clear and perceptive. I yearned for this now, knowing I'd need it. It only took me a minute before I felt centered. I prepared for my meeting with Sal Giordano, and left for the Park. I knew it would be useless to sit down at a bench before Sal, he would be, as normal, extremely paranoid. Instead, I stood next to the railing overlooking the pond, keeping my eyes open. I didn't have to wait long.
Sal wasn't dressed like a man who owns four hotels in Atlantic City. Before you start thinking he was dressed like Tony Soprano or something, he wasn't dressed like your stereotypical Italian either. Instead, he was dressed kind of like you would expect your doctor to be on a Saturday afternoon, in a Ralph Lauren polo shirt, some Dockers khakis, and brown casual Skechers of all things. He approached me by himself, carrying a shopping bag, and I could immediately spot two of his men staying a respectful distance back. "Marco, it's good to see you."
"Thank you Sal. It's been a long time, hasn't it? You look like you're keeping yourself fit."
Sal patted his reasonably trim stomach for a fifty-year-old man and nodded. "New girlfriend, you know. To keep up with her, I've had to lay off the cannolis. Ah, but the benefits... those are worth a few cannolis. Sit down, let's talk."
Sal led me the short distance to an empty park bench before opening his bag. Inside there were three packs of Ritz crackers, still sealed in their foil tubes. "I couldn't find any bread that was dry enough on short notice," he explained, handing me one of the tubes. "But, my grandson says the birds like these just as much as bread, so I decided to give them a try."
"I hope the family is in good health," I said evenly, opening my pack after squeezing, crunching the crackers and making sure there wasn't something else inside. I took a few crumbs and tossed them onto the sidewalk in front of us, watching as pigeons waddled over and started to eat. These were city pigeons, they didn't feel the need to hurry for anything.
"They are, but let's get down to business," Sal said, his voice still friendly but his eyes going cold. "Marco, before I agreed to engage your services, I gave you some very specific rules. Do you remember what they were?"
"Of course, Sal."
"Really? Because one of the ones I remember being very explicit about was that if you were going to do contracts for me, you were not allowed to have any sort of romantic relationships. If you wanted to go out and fuck women, you could do that all you want. I don't expect a man to be a saint, even though I go to Mass every Sunday. But a girlfriend? No way Marco. No way."
As strict as it sounded, there was a sort of twisted logic to his rule. His brother, Vincenzo Giordano, had been ratted out by one of his men, after some of his competitors got a hold of the man's girlfriend. The man, who was a freelancer in the same job I did, rolled over as quick as he could to get his girlfriend freed. "I know Sal. But this girl, she's special. I know you hear it all the time, and I know you probably think I'm too young and stupid to really know what I'm saying, but she is special. I didn't exactly plan it, you know."
"I know, my boy. Which is why it was so surprising when Louis brought me the news that the best freelancer in this part of the country, a man I'd consider part of my own family if he wanted, was breaking one of my most important rules. And for who? Marco, your luck must be terrible when it comes to women, my boy."
"What do you mean, Sal? The girl has no family in the area, she comes from a working class background. What would be the problem?"
Sal looked at me with surprise in his features. "You really don't know, do you? Marco, she works at the Shamrock. Who owns the Shamrock?"
"Liam and Glenn Devitt. Two brothers, the place has been in the family for about fifty years. I checked."
Sal shook his head sadly. "No, son. The Devitt brothers may be the names on the business license and the IRS forms, but that pub is controlled by Owen Lynch."
Dammit. Owen Lynch was Sal Giordano's largest competitor, and also the man who had gotten Vinnie Giordano taken down. Also, Owen Lynch was the deputy mayor of the city, which tells you how corrupt the city was as well. "I'm sorry Sal, I didn't know. Honest to God."
"I know Marco, which is why you're meeting with me instead of with my men. But you know what has to be done, right? Marco, Owen knows about you and your girl. Just to let you know, he happens to be friends with a certain Doctor Green from the University Hospital Emergency Room, they were high school buddies. He cannot prove it, but suspects you in quite a few of the actions on my behalf over the past few years. Now, you are seeing a girl who works for him, even if it is only as a bartender."
I blinked, sideswiped by the fate of what had happened. "Sal, I'll stop seeing her I guess. Or I'll retire."
Sal shook his head. "Not good enough, Marco. First of all, she's still a liability. Second of all, you're one of the best assassins in the country, maybe even the world. You're more than that even. In the name of the Holy Mother, Marco, you're one of the best pure warriors I've ever known. You've taken out targets for me, both hard and soft, and for that you've been rewarded. You've worked for other men sure, but you've never crossed a client, never. Marco..... Sophie White has to die, one way or the other. Either Owen Lynch gets her and tortures her, trying to draw you out, or you take her out yourself. At least if you do it, it'll be quick and painless, I know that for sure."
I shook my head, perhaps the first time in all the years I'd worked for Sal that I'd ever rejected him so flat out. "No way, Sal. You talked about your rules, but you know I have rules too. I've killed a lot of men for you, and injured some more. But I've never, ever shed innocent blood. That isn't going to change. And Sophie is innocent."
Sal nodded slowly, almost sorrowfully. "Marco, I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. You know, I'm not the only man in the city you have worked for. All of us, well, we are in agreement. Owen Lynch cannot have an opportunity to exploit your weakness. This is an order from the Council, Marco. Sophie White must die."
"And if I don't?"
Sal looked at me as if my IQ had just dropped fifty points. "Then both of you will, by our own hands. Because of your loyalty, and because you've been such a good soldier for so long, I got the Council to agree. You have until midnight tonight. If not, the Snowman goes into the broiler."
Without another word, Sal got up and left me on the park bench. I sat there for another thirty minutes, giving him and his men time to leave the Park. I checked my watch. Three in the afternoon. I had nine hours to make sure Sophie lived.
Chapter 15
Sophie
I was surprised when my phone buzzed just seconds after hitting the send button on my text message to Mark. "Hello?"
"Sophie, is everything all right?"
There was something strange about Mark's voice, it sounded strained and even a bit fearful. "Yes, everything is fine. Why?"
I could hear Mark let a long, shuddering breath go, and his voice sounded much closer to normal, although it was still not quite there. "I need to talk with you."
"Well, you can come by my place tomorrow if you want and we can....."
"Sophie, it can't wait until tomorrow. I need to talk with you as soon as possible. Please, is there any way you can get the rest of the night off? I promise, no deceptions, no hiding anything. But I need to talk to you immediately."
I knew I should have told him no, and that we'd get together the next day. But there was something in his voice that convinced me. "Okay. Where do you want to meet?"
"Your place, as soon as you can. I'll meet you in the parking lot, if that's okay."
"Yeah, sure," I replied, wishing I had given Mark a key. The idea of him hanging out in my parking lot made me feel like an idiot. "Say, a half hour or so?"
"Thirty minutes. I'll be there. Thank you, Sophie."
"It's all right. I'll see you then. Bye."
"I love you. Bye."
His last words stunned me, and I stared at my phone, which dumbly just said Call Ended, 3:04. I went to slip it in my pocket when it buzzed again, and I saw I had a text message. Yes, I meant it. 30 mins. Mark.
I don't really remember what excuse I gave to Juan and the two front house staff about needing to get out, but I knew I was probably going to get an ass chewing from Liam before my next shift. I really didn't care, though. The whole time, all I could think of were Mark's last words to me and then his text message. In my entire life, I'd never had a man say that he loved me before. I mean, sure my dad said it, and my grandfather, but you know what I mean. Driving back to my apartment, I'm glad I didn't run any red lights or hit anyone, I was so busy questioning myself about my feelings to really pay attention to how I was driving. After the secrets and the deception, did I trust Mark enough to give him my heart? While I'd never had a man say he loved me before, that didn't mean I hadn't fallen in love, myself.I thought I had, twice in fact, but both times I'd been hurt badly, and I didn't want to repeat the experience.
I was still undecided when I pulled into the parking lot of my apartment building, and I didn't see Mark's car. My heart dropped almost to my toes before I saw him climb out of a black Toyota pickup, wearing what looked to me like dark blue or black military clothes. My heart swelled in my chest, and I knew my decision. Shutting off my car, I jumped out and ran over to him, throwing my arms around his neck. "I love you too," I greeted him, pushing him back against his truck and mashing my lips against his before he could reply. "I love you, I love you, I love you."
Mark pushed me back slightly, his smile lighting a fire inside me. "Well, I guess that's the answer I was looking for," he said, smiling softly. Still, there was sadness in his face, and he looked down at my feet. "Listen, there's a lot we need to talk about, and not a lot of time to do it. Let's go inside, quickly."
Mark reached inside his truck and pulled out a small backpack that he slung over his shoulder while I locked up my car. Holding my hand, he led me up the stairs to my apartment, his eyes darting back and forth the whole time. "What's wrong?" I asked, perplexed. "It's just my apartment building. I mean, you were here just three days ago."
"Inside, I'll tell you everything," Mark replied, pausing at the top of the stairs to look back at me. "Sophie, I promise you, I'll tell you everything, the good and the bad."
Mark turned his back while I unlocked my door, putting his hand on my shoulder once the door was open to go in before me, his hand on his backpack. Once he turned the lights on, he let me in before closing and locking the door behind us. "You don't know how much I regret what happened this morning."
"Me too," I said, still confused as Mark set his backpack down on my coffee table, but staying standing behind it. "You said you'd tell me the whole truth. Mark, as much as I love you, I need the truth if there is to be a future between us."
Mark rubbed his hands through his hair and nodded. "You have no idea. Well, I guess I should start with the minor things. Like where my car is."
"Yeah, I was wondering about that. I've never seen that truck before."
Mark shrugged. "It's one of my backup vehicles. I don't keep it at my apartment, but in a storage unit over on the East side of town. You're probably now wondering why I have backup vehicles and why I'm talking about storage units and stuff like that. And I guess there's no way to tip toe around it. I've told you that I'm a freelance problem solver."
"Yeah.....?" I asked, confused. I mean, while I didn't know the details about his job, what could Mark have been, other than a freelancer? His work hours were weird, he worked seemingly out of his apartment, going to the clients, not to an office. What else could he be?
"Well, I'm a bit more than your normal freelancer. I'm kind of a...."
Before Mark could complete his sentence, the front door to my apartment crashed open, and two men came bursting through. Both of them were carrying guns, although I couldn't see what type other than that I'd seen them in action movies spitting out a lot of bullets really quickly. I thought I was going to die as the men started to raise their guns.
I barely saw Mark spring into action, and at the time I wasn't sure what happened, but over the next few days I had the chance to try and piece together what I saw. Mark first reached down and grabbed his backpack, swinging it in one smooth motion into the hands of the first gunman. Spinning with the force of his swing, Mark rotated towards the two men, his left arm cocked and catching the second gunman in the jaw with his elbow. The man sagged to his knees, stunned. Mark completed his turn, ending up behind the first man, whose gun hadn't even hit the ground yet. Mark grabbed the man's head and twisted, a sound like twigs snapping reaching my ears and the first gunman dropped, dead.
Turning his attention back to the still stunned second gunman, Mark's face grew hard as he stood above the man. Grabbing his hair, he cocked his right hand back in a strange sort of fist, where only the first set of knuckles on his fingers were bent before his hand flashed forward, the knuckles striking just below the gunman's chin, in the space right above his Adam's apple. A thick, gurgling sound came from the gunman and he dropped, his feet drumming weakly as his hands clawed at his throat. Mark studied him for a second before bringing his booted heel down on the side of the man's head, either knocking him out or killing him, I wasn't sure which.
"Holy shit," I whispered, the first words that came to my mind. It was over so fast I didn't even have time to scream, but just sat there in partial shock. "What the hell are you?"
Mark looked down at the two bodies, and I thought I heard him whisper to himself. "Seventy-five, seventy-six."
Chapter 16
Mark
Things moved fast once the two men the Confederation had sent were dead. I pulled both bodies inside, closing Sophie's door as best I could while she sat on the sofa, staring at me like I was something out of a video game or a horror movie. I turned my attention to the two men, and started searching the bodies while I talked. "After my father moved us up from South Carolina, I got in a lot of trouble," I said as I knelt. "Nothing too bad, a few fights, dealing with bullies in school. Things went bad though when my father got into debt with a group that is called the Confederation around here. They are one of two groups that control most of the crime in not just this city, but a lot of the East Coast. A night of drunken gambling in Atlantic City left him owing them about fifty thousand dollars. I was fifteen at the time.”
"For the first few years, most of what I did was errand boy stuff, running packets from one side of town to another, and gathering intelligence. I've always been pretty good at blending into the background when I want to, and the Confederation saw to it that I learned from some of their best. Since I worked for all of the various members of the Confederation, I wasn't constrained by any cultural boundaries. I learned how to pick locks and avoid security sensors from a Japanese ninjutsu master, while at the same time did jumping exercises with a Chinese kung-fu teacher who was in debt to the local Triads. The Confederation used my skills against their enemies, and against each other. I did a lot of spy work to pay off my father's debt."
"To let me out of my debt, however, they upped the ante. My first hit was against one of the Confederation's own, a sick bastard named Clovis Methis, who was not only running a nightclub for the Confederation, but exploiting teenage girls. When he happened to get the daughter of a rather rich businessman drugged and more, the Confederation sent me to kill him. He was my first hit. For it, I got fifty thousand dollars. And the ability to work as a freelancer."
Sophie looked at the two men, then at me. "How many?"
"Seventy-six, seventy-four of which I was paid. In that time I've seen my fees raised to around a hundred thousand per hit. But, I've always had a rule that, until tonight, the Confederation respected. No innocent blood. Every death I've caused has been a piece of human scum that, if the police had caught him, would have earned him a life sentence at the very least, if not the death penalty."
; "What do you mean, until tonight?"
I finished my sweep of the two bodies, taking the men's weapons, wallets, keys and other materials. While I'm sure the cops would investigate, it would at least throw them off the trail for a bit. I wasn't worried about my prints being on the bodies, I've never been fingerprinted in my life. "One of the Confederation members, in fact the most powerful member, is a man named Salvatore Giordano. He's what you might call the Godfather of this town. Sal had an extra rule, one that he had a reason for, but I broke. Sal's rule is that any hitman, even a freelancer like me, could not be in a relationship with anyone. My peers and I called it the two date rule. And until I met you, I had no problems following that rule. You changed that for me."
Sophie sat back, blinking. "I fell in love with a contract killer. Jesus."
"It gets worse," I said, hurriedly throwing the weapons into my backpack. "Sal found out about us. That man, Lefort, he's known as The Frog, and he's Giordano's top lieutenant. I didn't even know that they knew where I lived, that condo is owned under another name. Nothing I own is in my real name. Anyway, after you left, Giordano called me, set up a meeting. He said that I picked the worst woman in the world to have as a girlfriend. You know who Owen Lynch is?"
"Yes. He's the deputy mayor of the City. I've seen him at the Shamrock a few times, he's friends with the Devitts." Sophie looked like she didn't know if she was going to run, puke, or faint. I guessed it was better than screaming, so I just kept her talking, letting everything come out before she could stop me. "He's also the most corrupt criminal of them all. You ever watch that TV show, Person of Interest? You know, the one starring the guy who played Jesus in the movie?"
In Too Deep: A Romantic Suspense Novel Page 27
