by Mike Ryan
“Is there anything you’d like to say before this matter is concluded?” Vincent asked.
“Listen, it wasn’t personal. It was just a job,” Mancini said, beginning to beg for his life. “You guys know how that is. If you want me to leave town, I’ll never come back. I swear.”
Malloy removed a gun from his pocket and placed it on the desk in front of Recker. Recker looked down at it, then back at Mancini.
“If you’d like to use that, it’s absolutely untraceable,” Vincent stated. “Of course, if you’d rather use your own, it’s completely understandable.”
“Please, it was just a job,” Mancini begged.
As certain as Recker had been that the next time he saw Mancini that he would kill him, he now wasn’t so sure. He knew it wasn’t a personal thing, that it was just a job that Mancini was assigned, and maybe that was what was preventing him from feeling the rage. Recker certainly knew how it was to get an assignment like that and not really have any personal feeling or involvement about it. Maybe if it was more personal then Recker would’ve had an easier time just raising his gun up and pulling the trigger. Maybe it wasn’t any of those things. Maybe it was Mia and her final words to him in the restaurant that was preventing him thus far from killing Mancini. Maybe if Mia hadn’t uttered those last words to him, maybe it’d already be done with. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he just didn’t know if killing Mancini was the right thing to do anymore. With the Italians gone, it wasn’t likely that he would come after Recker again with the intent of killing him. Though he couldn’t be completely sure of that, he was fairly certain that was the case.
After a couple of minutes, Vincent and Malloy looked at each other, unsure what the hold up was. They figured Recker would’ve pulled the trigger and ended Mancini’s life within seconds of seeing him. Though they weren’t exactly in a hurry, and were fine with giving Recker a few extra minutes, they were somewhat confused about his hesitation.
“Mr. Recker, is there a problem?” Vincent finally asked.
“No. No problem.”
Even though he said that there wasn’t, his lack of action indicated to Vincent that there was. Recker not only hadn’t yet picked up the gun off the desk, he hadn’t reached for his own gun either. He’d stood in the same spot since he entered the office, barely moving an inch.
“Please, you’ll never hear from me again,” Mancini pleaded again. “Tell me how far away you want me to go and I’ll be there. I can even leave the country if that’s what you want.”
Recker wasn’t really swayed by anything Mancini was saying as he knew the words were only being said out of desperation and fear of being killed. It wasn’t the first time that he’d heard something similar to that effect when he had a suspect or a target sitting in a chair in front of him. But this was the first time he was letting the situation drag on. Unless he was interrogating someone and needed some information first, he didn’t believe in prolonging someone’s death. Recker looked at the gun on the desk and all that ran through his mind was Mia’s words.
“Don’t kill anyone if you don’t have to,” he replayed in his mind.
Recker heard the words so clearly it was almost like she was standing in front of him while saying it. Any other thoughts he had were being overrun by her. He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing the inside corner of his eyes with his finger and thumb. Recker was struggling with what to do. He wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. While his initial thoughts of taking revenge permeated his brain since the night Mancini shot him, it was no longer clear to him that it was the right thing to do. All because of a few simple words that Mia said to him in passing. He was sure that if the words never left her lips that he would’ve already pulled the trigger by now. Though Vincent had been patient up to that point, that patience was slowly evaporating. It’d been several minutes since he led Recker into the office and he anticipated that the deed would be over with rather quickly. He didn’t think it’d take a man like Recker five minutes to pull the trigger on someone he clearly wanted to eliminate.
“Why the hesitation, Mike?” Vincent asked.
Recker sighed before answering, not sure he wanted to tell the truth. He certainly didn’t want to sound weak in his present company. “I guess I’m just not sure this is what I really want.”
Vincent and Malloy looked at each other, both of whom were surprised at the lack of vigor at the man standing before them. With a man of Recker’s stature and reputation, and with a subject who previously tried to kill him, they didn’t quite understand why he wasn’t jumping at the chance for retribution. The face on Mancini was slowly changing with each passing minute that he still was breathing. While he was a hundred percent certain of his fate just minutes beforehand, he now was beginning to have hope that he might just live his way through his current predicament. He could see that Recker wasn’t hell bent on his destruction and that maybe, just maybe, he’d live to see another day.
“Can I ask why?” Vincent wondered. “You previously expressed great interest in getting redemption on the man who tried killing you. Why the change?”
“I guess things just change sometimes. Sometimes you think you want something and then when it happens, you come to the realization that you didn’t really want it at all,” Recker answered.
“I didn’t take you for a man who…”
“I’m not a man who can be pigeonholed or assumed anything about,” Recker tersely replied, sensing they were thinking he was weak. “Don’t think cause we’ve done business a couple times that you can take for granted that you know what I’ll do or how I think.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“My reasons for hesitating are my own and I don’t feel the need to share them.”
“Then I won’t press you on them any further,” Vincent said. “But with that in mind, I do feel the need to remind you that I’m not that high on burning the midnight oil, as they say. I do need you to make a decision on whether you’re gonna end this man’s life or not so we can all move on.”
Recker looked at the gun on the desk, then at Mancini, and back to the gun once more. He took a deep breath, not quite even believing himself with what he was about to say.
“Let him go,” Recker softly stated.
“You wish to release him?” Vincent asked, a little surprised, though he could see that was the direction this confrontation was heading.
“I don’t really care what you do with him. But I’m not gonna kill him. Not right now.”
“I promise you’ll never see me again,” Mancini told him, relieved at the decision.
“Very well,” Vincent responded. “I can’t say I quite understand your decision, but I realize you probably have your reasons for it. I respect that.”
“Don’t go thinking that I’ve gone soft, cause that would be a decision that you would regret,” Recker told him.
“Never crossed my mind. You and soft are two words that I would never think about putting in the same sentence.”
“I take it I’ll have no problem leaving?”
“I’ll radio the gate,” Malloy answered. “You won’t have a problem.”
“Thanks.”
Recker left the office and walked across the length of the warehouse floor, wondering if he made the right decision. Once he reached the door to exit, he took a quick look back at the office, seeing Vincent and Malloy standing in the doorway, watching his every move. Recker scurried down the metal steps and wasted no time getting back in his car. He drove toward the front gate, with Vincent and Malloy moving over to the open bay, watching his car as it drove away. Malloy took a radio out of his pocket to alert them of Recker approaching.
“Recker’s driving up to the gate now. Let him pass,” Malloy said.
The two men continued standing there for another minute until Recker’s car was completely out of sight. Vincent, a bit thrown off by Recker’s decision, was contemplating what he wanted to do with Mancini.
“I have to say that’s a decision t
hat I did not see coming,” Vincent said.
“What do you think caused him to change his mind?”
“I’m not sure. It certainly wasn’t fear. He’s killed plenty of others before. I can’t really say I understand it. But there was something definitely tugging at him. That much was clear.”
“Should I let Mancini go?” Malloy wondered.
“No,” Vincent replied, still going over the options in his mind.
“What do you wanna do with him?”
Vincent sighed before coming to a conclusion. “Get rid of him.”
“You wanna kill him?”
“He’s of no use to us. Besides, he’s not one of our men. He’s been on the Italians payroll. He can be buried alongside the rest of them,” Vincent stated.
“Maybe he could be of some use to us,” Malloy resisted. “He’s a pretty good gun. I mean, it’s not like he was high in their pecking order. He’s basically a freelancer.”
“He’s a loose end that we don’t need. There’s nothing he can offer us that we can’t already do ourselves.”
“What about just cutting him loose?”
“After having him sit in that chair tied up, thanks to us, I can’t say I’d ever fully trust him. Maybe he’d leave, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d harbor grudges against us, maybe not. Whatever the case, he’s not good enough or valuable enough to take a chance on,” Vincent explained.
“OK, boss. You think Recker would be pissed off if we kill him after saying to let him go?” Malloy asked.
“Well, I’d say that Mr. Recker no longer has the right to get pissed off about anything. He had his chance to extract any justice he felt was necessary on the matter. Besides, he told us to do whatever we wanted with him.”
“You want me to make him disappear?”
“No. Make an example out of him,” Vincent said. “Let’s let everyone know who’s in charge of this area now.”
“You got it.”
Vincent then left, walking to his own car and getting in the back seat as he was whisked away from the area, leaving Malloy behind to do the dirty work as he often did. Malloy wasted no time in getting done what was asked of him, immediately going back to the office, where Mancini was still restrained in the chair. The worried look on Mancini’s face had evaporated, believing that he was being released since Recker seemingly no longer had him on his hit list. Since he had no beef that he knew of with Vincent’s organization, it didn’t occur to him that they would want him eliminated as well. So when Malloy entered the room again, he wasn’t worried in the slightest. Mancini just assumed that he came back to let him go. It even occurred to him that maybe Vincent might have room for him in his organization full time. Malloy cracked his knuckles one at a time as he looked at the tied up individual sitting in front of him.
“You guys gonna let me go now?” Mancini asked.
“Things are rarely that simple,” Malloy answered.
“What do you mean? If Recker doesn’t want me dead anymore then what am I still doing here?”
“You’re somewhat of a loose end.”
“Loose end? What are you talking about? Let me talk to Vincent.”
“Vincent’s no longer here.”
Getting the sense that things were taking a turn for the worse, Mancini was beginning to worry again. He started breathing more heavily and sweat started rolling down the sides of his face. Since Malloy hadn’t released him yet, he could only assume that his death was still being considered, if not already decided.
“Let me talk to Vincent,” Mancini repeated.
“What for?”
“I wanna work for him.”
“I don’t think we’re hiring,” Malloy replied.
“I can help you guys. You know my reputation. I’m not some street thug.”
Though Malloy actually agreed with him, and if it was up to him, he would’ve released Mancini and considered his request for employment. But it wasn’t up to him and he wasn’t about to go against Vincent’s wishes on such a trivial matter. Malloy looked down at the gun that was still laying on the edge of the desk, about to pick it up and finally finish the job that they assumed Recker would do. Mancini noticed what he was looking at and tried to think of something else he could do to stave off his impending demise. Malloy nonchalantly picked up the gun with his right hand, though he let it swing down to his side for a few moments. Mancini started squirming around in his chair, hoping to somehow wriggle himself free.
“If you guys let me go, like I told Recker, I’ll go wherever you want me to go,” Mancini pleaded. “Just name it and you’ll never see me again. I promise I won’t be a problem.”
“You know, if it was up to me, I’d let you stick around,” Malloy told him, raising his gun and pointing it at his prisoner.
“C’mon, we can work this out. We can come to some sort of agreement. I even have some money set aside. It’s like a couple hundred grand. It’s yours if you want it. You can have it.”
“Money doesn’t interest me.”
Knowing his pleas were falling on deaf ears, Mancini struggled within his ties even more, desperately trying to figure out some way out of his current predicament. A painful expression came over his face as he agonized over what he could say that would impact his release. He knew Malloy was probably just seconds away from ending his life and would’ve offered anything to change his fate.
“What do you want? C’mon, there has to be something I can give you,” Mancini begged.
“I can’t think of anything,” Malloy replied. He then got out his radio again and spoke into it. “Bring the van up.”
“There in a minute,” a voice responded.
“Just name what you want,” Mancini continued.
“Like I said…it ain’t up to me,” Malloy told him.
Malloy then pointed the gun at Mancini’s head and blew a hole into his forehead, instantly killing him. For good measure, as Mancini’s head slumped forward, Malloy aimed the gun at his chest and put three more holes into him. Malloy stood there for a few seconds, admiring his handy work, though a small part of him thought it was a shame that they couldn’t find some kind of use for him in the organization. He didn’t usually question Vincent’s judgment though, and didn’t really put much more thought into it. Malloy walked out of the office as a couple other members of the organization entered the warehouse. Within a minute, Mancini’s dead body was being carried out of the office by the two men and then dumped into the van that had pulled up.
“Get this guy out of here,” Malloy told them.
“What do you want us to do with him?” one of them asked.
“Don’t matter. Vincent wants him seen, so dump him in an alley or a street corner or something. Just make it visible.”
“Got it.”
“Just make sure you’re out of view of any cameras or anything. Everybody should know who did it, but we don’t want any evidence that leads it back to us. Vincent just wants the statement made.”
Chapter 11
Recker was drinking a cup of coffee and had only been in the office for a few minutes when Jones moved from around his desk and towards the TV. Recker wondered what had him so intrigued and glanced up at the set himself as Jones turned the volume up. It was a breaking news report that had a reporter on the scene of some sort of crime, complete with flashing police lights behind him as he spoke on the screen.
“Something happened,” Jones softly said.
“Something’s always happening,” Recker replied, not really interested. “Stuff goes down in this city every day. That’s nothing new. And it’s not changing either.”
“No, this seems like something bigger.”
As Jones turned the volume up and started listening to the reporter speak. It became clear that the police had discovered a body in an alleyway. Jones was glued to the screen as the reporter described the scene and the events as they knew them.
“The police received a report of a body laying in this alley behind me about one hour
ago, roughly 6AM, and quickly discovered the man was already dead, and likely had been for at least five or six hours,” the reporter said.
Though Jones seemed to be fascinated by the events, Recker couldn’t have cared less. As he said, bad things happened every day in that city, along with every other city in the world. One more dead body really didn’t concern him one way or another, unless he was somehow connected to it. Since Jones was so enthralled by it, Recker also kept listening, somewhat lackadaisically though.
“We have since learned, in just the last few minutes through a confidential source, the identity of the man,” the reporter continued. “Our highly trusted source says the police have already identified the body as being Mario Mancini.”
Jones’ eyes almost bulged out of its sockets as he heard the name announced. He looked over to Recker, who also looked stunned to hear the identity of the body. Recker himself almost dropped his cup when the reporter mentioned Mancini’s name.
“I thought you told me you left him alive,” Jones said.
“I did. I didn’t do that,” Recker responded.
“Are you sure?”
“I would think I would know if I killed somebody or not.”
“Well if you didn’t do it then who did? And why?”
“Well if I didn’t do it then there’s only one other person who would’ve…Vincent,” Recker said.
