by Zoey Parker
I nodded. I'd never been so deeply terrified.
“Good,” Giovanni said. He took another bite of garlic bread, then turned off the gas burner on the stove and started toward the door, gesturing for Marie to follow him. “I must leave you now, to make the necessary preparations for our guests before they arrive. I'm looking forward to the end of this, as are the rest of my men. This back-and-forth with the Reapers has made them all extremely stressed and upset. So many of our friends and relatives dead or wounded. Maybe I'll send some of them in here so you can help them relax before the Reapers show up.”
I thought of the three men who'd tried to rape me a couple of nights ago and my blood turned to ice. I couldn't imagine facing that again.
As though he could read my mind, Tommy leaned in next to me. He pulled down his surgical mask to reveal a mouth full of rotten teeth.
“You hear that, hon?” he asked. “That baby in your belly's about to see more Italian cocks than Gennaro's Poultry Market. I only hope Big G sends me in first. I hate sloppy seconds.”
And with that, Tommy extended his slimy coated tongue and licked the side of my face. His breath and saliva smelled like roadkill and I tried not to gag.
Tittering, Tommy pulled his mask up again and left me alone in the room, switching off the light behind him.
Chapter Thirty-One
Nic
It felt weird to be driving up the highway in a bunch of cars and vans. Usually when the Reapers went to war, we went in big and loud on our bikes with engines roaring. Sometimes we'd even blast death metal. We got a thrill from making damn sure our enemies heard and saw us coming at them like a horde of barbarian psychos—savage and unstoppable, ready to rip apart everything in our paths and burn down whatever's left.
But this time had to be different, and not just because our bikes were toast. This wasn't just some brawl with another MC. Giovanni was clever. He knew we were coming and there was no way of knowing how outmanned and outgunned we might be. Worst of all, if he caught a whiff of us too soon, he could maim or murder Lauren before we even had a chance to blink.
So we had to play this one smart and stealthy, even though every cell in my body desperately wanted to run in there head-on and butcher every gangster I could find until I was knee-deep in Bonaccorso gore.
Instead I had promised to follow Bard's lead and I was riding in the back of a black sedan, restlessly spinning the magazine of my .38. A couple of the other Reapers looked annoyed, but I couldn't help it. I couldn't possibly sit still when each of my limbs was twitching in anticipation, ready to punch and stomp and stab and shoot.
Bard drove the main van, which we called the War Chariot, at the head of the convoy. He blinked his tail lights twice, signaling for the rest of us to stop.
Our cars pulled over to the side of the road. I got out and walked over to Bard. “Why are we stopping? The bunker's a mile and a half away.”
“They could have scouts positioned along the highway,” Bard said. “From this point, we should proceed on foot.” He turned to address the other Reapers who had gotten out of their vehicles. “Keep quiet and stay low. Stick to the ditches wherever you can so the moonlight doesn't catch your silhouettes, or you'll be presenting the enemy with easy targets. Is anyone here wearing anything metal?”
A few of the Reapers murmured, holding up various metal rings, watches, and insignia.
“Put that stuff in your pockets so it won't reflect any light,” Bard ordered. “Remember not to light any cigarettes, and keep your cell phones off and tucked away. Most of all, do not draw your weapons unless you are directly engaged by the enemy. They see a glint off a gun barrel before we want them to and it's game over. Understood?”
There were general sounds of agreement. Boomer and a couple of other Reapers who were military veterans even saluted and answered, “Sir, yes, sir!”
“Good,” Bard said. “This is for Growler. That means there are only two ways this can end. We grab Lauren and take down the Bonaccorsos permanently or we don't go home. Anyone who isn't amenable to that concept can turn around, get in one of the cars, and head back to hang up your cut for life.”
None of the Reapers moved. Even with the sickening rage and fear I felt for what Giovanni had done to Lauren, I still felt a surge of pride at the men who wore the same Reaper patch that I did. Society could dismiss them as a bunch of thugs and grease monkeys, but I could see them for what they really were—warriors, every one.
Bard nodded. “You've got the map of the bunker and the surrounding area that Nic gave you. Once you see sentries, fall back and regroup with the rest of us so we can determine a plan of attack. Fall out.”
The Reapers crouched down and started marching up the side of the road. I'd never heard that tone of military authority in Bard's voice before and I was impressed. I could only imagine what a lethally-efficient officer he'd been when he was in Delta, and I wondered whether he'd even lost a man under his command. I'd be surprised if he had.
We trudged through the ditches and bushes next to the road. At one point, I heard something rustling in the foliage about ten feet to my right. I froze, my skin crawling with goosebumps. I wrapped my hand around the handle of my revolver and had to fight myself to keep from pulling it out.
It's a fucking Bonaccorso, my mind screamed at me in a panic, and if he's this close he's already fucking seen you. Pull your gun and aim and fire, do it now, stop fucking around or you'll be dead in two seconds, this is it, you're dead, you're fucking dead, it's all over...
A deer lifted its head from the underbrush, chewing placidly. Its brown eyes flicked in my direction and it twitched its white, tufted tail before scampering away.
I exhaled shakily and almost laughed with relief. Jesus Christ. I almost lost my cool, and then the only thing we'd have accomplished tonight is whacking Bambi's mother.
After we'd gone a bit farther, we saw Sperm approaching from the front, followed by a couple more Reapers. Sperm had been given Bard's old Delta binoculars, which were designed to absorb light instead of reflecting it.
“We got guards,” Sperm whispered.
“How many?” Bard asked.
Sperm exchanged a look with the others and I could see that they hadn't thought to count the guards. “A lot,” Sperm said. “Like, a fuck of a lot. And that's not all.”
“What is it?” Bard hissed impatiently.
“The bunker isn't what's on the map,” Sperm said.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked. “I used to go there all the time. It's exactly the way I drew it out for you!”
Sperm looked confused and embarrassed. “I know, I know, and no one's calling you a liar or nothing, Nic, it's just...well, maybe you'd better take a look for yourself.”
Bard and I followed Sperm to the front of the Reapers. We crawled up a low hill and Sperm handed the binoculars to Bard, who peered through them and sighed. “I'm afraid he's right, Nic. Here, have a look.”
I looked through the binoculars and felt a fifty-pound weight drop on my heart. The bunker was down there all right, but it looked like the Bonaccorsos had made a lot of changes to it. They'd added to it so it was almost twice the size it had originally been, and the entrances I'd remembered had been paved over in favor of new ones that were hidden from casual viewers. Worst of all, a low concrete wall had been erected all around the bunker to create a compound.
Bonaccorsos were positioned around the wall every forty feet. They wore ski masks and carried military-grade automatic rifles.
“It appears as though they've redecorated,” Bard commented dryly. “The benefits of having the paving unions in one's pocket, no doubt.”
“So what do we do now?” I asked.
“Improvise,” Bard answered.
I was about to ask what he meant when I saw one of the armed guards gesture to the two stationed on either side of him. They waved in response and he walked off toward a nearby group of trees, reaching for his crotch and lowering his zipper.
“I've got an idea for how to get in,” I told Bard. “No time to explain, but keep watch and look for another opening, or a way to draw them out. I'll do what I can from the inside.”
Bard looked hesitant, but he nodded. “Careful in there,” he said. “Keep your cell phone on silent and ping me as often as possible so I know you're okay. If I think of something we can do out here, I'll let you know.”
I half-ran, half-crawled through the tall grass, trying not to make any noise. I knew I had to make every second count if this plan was going to work.
I hope you had a lot to drink tonight, buddy, or I doubt I'll make it to you in time, I thought.
I reached the cluster of trees and snuck up to it. I drew my gun slowly, keeping it low so the moonlight wouldn't hit it. As I got closer, I saw the guard standing in front of a tree with his gun propped against the trunk. He was holding his dick, pissing and singing to himself quietly in Italian.
I pressed the barrel of my gun against the back of his head and pressed my gloved hand against his mouth, hearing him whimper faintly. “Call for help and your life will not be worth the piss running down that tree,” I whispered in his ear. “Nod to show me you understand.”
He nodded.
“Good,” I said, lowering my hand from his mouth. “What's your name?”
“Eduardo,” he answered.
“Is that what your friends call you?”
He shook his head. “Eddie,” he stammered.
“Well, seeing as how I've already seen your knob, I feel close enough to you that I'll go ahead and call you Eddie,” I said. “Now zip that thing up and put both hands on the tree in front of you so I can see them.”
Eddie zipped his fly and placed his palms on the tree.
“Okay, Eddie, I'm going to ask you a couple of questions,” I continued quietly. “You give me some quick and honest answers and you'll live. Stall or fuck with me in any way and I'll put a skylight in your head before your friends back there can do a thing to stop me.”
Eddie nodded again.
“Is Giovanni inside that bunker, Eddie?”
“Yes,” Eddie said.
“Is there a woman in there with him who's being held prisoner?”
“Uh-huh,” Eddie stuttered.
“How many Bonaccorsos are inside with them?”
“About thirty,” Eddie said.
“Okay. See? You've done a great job so far.” I knew I had to make it fast or the other guards would wonder where Eddie was and come looking for him. “Just one more question for you, Eddie, and you'd better have an answer. Where's the entrance to the bunker?”
“Northeast side,” Eddie answered quickly. “Heavy steel door. Bolted from the inside. They'll only let our guys in, though.”
Don't worry, asshole, I thought. I might have a way around that.
“Thanks, Eddie. You've been very helpful. You have sweet dreams, now.”
“What?” Eddie asked. I raised the butt of my gun and brought it down on the back of Eddie's head, knocking him out. I immediately started shrugging off my clothes and undressing Eddie so I could put his clothes on. They were extremely loose on me, and I had to use my own t-shirt as padding. Finally, I tugged his ski mask over my head and grabbed his rifle.
This is easily the most risky thing I've ever done, I thought. It'll be a miracle if it works, but I can't even let myself imagine what will happen to Lauren if it doesn't. So here we go.
I walked to the wall around the compound, letting the two other guards spot me and wave at me.
“Yo, that was some kinda piss you took!” one called out, laughing.
“Yeah, it, uh, sorta turned into something else,” I answered, trying to mimic Eddie's voice.
Jesus, I sound like a moron. This is the world's dumbest plan. I can't believe I thought I could pull this off.
“Oh, it did, huh?” the other guard cackled. “What the fuck did you wipe with? Leaves?”
“Heh! 'Fraid so,” I replied. I was walking toward the northeast side of the wall and trying to look casual.
“Now where the fuck do you think you're going?” the first guard demanded. “We got a goddamn job to do out here, Eddie!”
I clutched my belly, trying not to make the gesture too dramatic. “Ain't feelin' too good,” I said. “Think my stomach's fucked up. Gonna go inside and find a replacement.”
“Yeah, sure, go lie down an' get some rest, there, sweetheart!” the second guard jeered. “Pop a fuckin' Midol, maybe!” Both of them laughed.
I gave them my best get-outta-here wave and kept walking until I found the metal door Eddie had told me about. I texted a pair of dashes to Bard to let him know I was okay and received two dashes back from him a couple seconds later.
Okay. So far, so good.
I knocked on the door and waited. A moment later, a voice answered. “Yeah, who is it?”
“It's Eddie,” I said, trying to keep my voice hoarse. “Let me in.”
There was a brief pause. “Eddie?” the voice answered incredulously. “That's you? You sound like shit.”
“Yeah, I don't feel so good,” I groaned. “I gotta come in.”
“The fuck do you mean?” the voice barked. “What about guardin' the wall like you're bein' paid to do, huh?”
“Look,” I said, trying to sound impatient. “My stomach's fucked up, I gotta take a wicked shit, an' I don't wanna squat down an' do it out here in the grass like some kind of goddamn woodchuck! Now would you please fuckin' let me in before I ruin my pants? They weren't cheap!”
There was a long silence from the other side of the door and I was sure my luck had run out. But then I heard the heavy bolt being slid away from the door and it swung open. Tommy Bone-Saw stood inside in a narrow hallway, wearing his surgical mask.
Great. Now I need to deal with this creep.
“Thank you,” I said, pushing past him. He didn't resist.
“No problem, Eddie,” Tommy answered. “Have fun on the throne. Oh, an' hey, next time you see yer sister Liliana, tell her thanks for the ziti she sent over, all right?”
“Yeah, sure, I'll tell her,” I said, nodding and continuing down the hall. I made it about four steps before I felt Tommy's arm wrap around my throat and saw his scalpel gleaming next to my eye.
“Eddie don't got no sisters,” Tommy whispered in my ear. “That was a real nice try, though, Nic. You've got bigger balls than I thought.” He lowered his blade toward my crotch. “Here, let's see what they look like once they've been sliced outta yer sack and shoved in yer eye sockets.”
I whipped my head backward, smashing Tommy in the nose. At the same time, I wedged my arm between his hand and my body, pushing the blade away. I could feel it slice into my forearm, but I didn't care.
I spun around just as he opened his mouth to scream for help and clamped my hands over it, slamming his skull against the concrete wall over and over. Even through his mask and my gloves, I could feel his teeth dig into the palm of my hand. A blood stain appeared on the wall behind his head, growing larger each time I smashed it into the stone. He raised the scalpel and I felt it bite into my bicep once before his body went limp.
I let go of Tommy and he sagged to the floor. The back of his head was caved in and I could see shards of bone stabbing into his mangled brains.
For a moment I considered finding a way to stash the body and clean the blood stain to buy myself more time, but I knew I couldn't risk it. Every moment that passed made it more likely I'd be caught by another Bonaccorso while fucking around with Tommy's corpse, and I had to find Lauren fast.
Which meant I had to trust that Bard would find a way to either successfully storm the compound or draw the gangsters out.
I texted the dashes to Bard again and got them back almost immediately. Then I pocketed my phone and started down the hallway toward the door leading to the inner rooms of the bunker.
Come on, Bar
d. You've never let me down before. Don't make tonight the first time.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bard
