“Because he’s high-ranking,” Mick said, as he walked back toward them. “I need more intel before we go for him.”
Charles nodded. And ran his hands through his hair. “They destroy my home. Almost destroy my family. Why would this Brazzano person have any beef with me?”
“Or even with me,” Mick said. “We made a truce years ago.”
“Could it be broken?” Jenay asked.
Mick hated to admit it. “Yes,” he said.
Then Charles’s cellphone rang. He looked at his Caller ID. “It’s Donald,” he said, and then answered. “Hey.”
“Dad!” Donald was hysterical. “They said our house burned down! They said our house is on fire, and these cops won’t let me leave!”
“And you do exactly what they tell you to do. Uncle Mick is sending in reinforcements.”
“But what about Mom? Is she okay? What about Nita? What about you?”
Charles and Jenay smiled. “We’re all okay,” Charles said. “Okay?”
Later that night, as Charles and Jenay laid in bed, staring at each other, with Bonita lying between them, Mick’s men escorted the rest of the family to Andersonville. And each one of their grown children, except for Brent, who was at the hospital, and Carly, who was back in Boston, went straight to their parents’ bedroom, and made themselves at home.
And early that next morning, when Mick went to get Charles up, he was shocked by the scene. Their children had surrounded the bed like a cocoon around their parents. As if they were their protectors. Mick was so amazed by the affection Charles’s children had for him, that it stunned him. He was an absent father through much of his children’s youth. Such affection was so foreign to him, and he felt so out of his element, that he froze where he stood.
But fortunately, Charles seemed to sense his presence and opened his big, green eyes. When he saw Mick standing there, looking lost for some reason, he eased his way out of bed, and around his children’s bodies, and headed out of the room. He closed the door behind him.
“What’s up?” he asked Mick.
The door closing snapped Mick back to himself. And he spoke up. “We’ve got Naughty, Wilk McNaughtry, downstairs.”
“What about Angelo?”
“He’s already gone. His people came and got him. But I’ve got all the intel I need from him.”
“So why did you wake me?”
“Because Naughty is the one we want. He’s the one with the real intel.”
Charles nodded. “That’s what I wanna hear,” he said, as they headed downstairs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Wilk McNaughtry was in the basement at Andersonville, and he was anxious to be uncooperative. As soon as Mick and Charles walked up to the chair he was sitting in, he was ready to deny all.
“I don’t know what this is about,” he said before they asked, “but I had nothing to do with it. Whatever it is.”
But Charles wasn’t going to listen to anybody’s denials. As soon as he was close enough to Naughty, he kicked him so hard that he flipped over the chair and landed on his ass. Charles’s quick move surprised even Mick.
But Charles wasn’t through with the denying bastard. He knocked the chair aside and hurried to Naughty. Then he knelt on top of him, with his knee rammed against his throat. “We aren’t asking you if you were involved,” he said. “We know you were involved. We want to know who else was involved. Who ordered that ambush at Baxter’s? Who ordered that explosion at my house? Who, motherfucker? Who ordered that shit?”
But Naughty continued to deny any involvement. Until Mick, behind Charles, pulled out a big, butcher’s knife, looked at it, and then looked at Naughty. Naughty knew how that fucker liked to torture people. He knew how much pain he could inflict if he wanted to. He thought the older brother would be running this session. He thought wrong.
“It was all Arnie’s idea,” he said, and Mick put the knife away.
“Arnie Palmer?” Charles asked.
“Who else?” Naughty asked. “That’s who I work for. He ran it through the Boss, or whoever he ran it through, but don’t ask me no details because he don’t let me in on none of the details. He just tells me what to do.”
“What was his goal?” Mick asked.
“To destroy you,” Naughty said with a smile. “He wants you bad. And he’s crazy about it. He’s talking about boobytraps and shit, and taking over your empire and Jericho while he was at it, and putting kids first. He’s psycho I’m telling you.”
Charles frowned. “What do you mean putting kids first?” Charles asked. “Are you saying he meant to take out my grandson?”
“Yeah, he meant it!”
“Arnie was behind that drive-by that wounded Makayla Sinatra?” Mick asked.
“That fat black girl?” Naughty asked. “Yeah, he was behind it. The guy we got to do it was some nerd from Africa we recruited by accident, and he didn’t know what the fuck he was doing.”
“You’re talking about Percy Diallo?” Mick asked.
Naughty nodded. “Yeah. That guy.”
“How was he recruited by accident?” Charles asked.
“Surveillance. We had a man having a meal at the Inn restaurant. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. But that’s how we knew what was going on. And our man saw that African shock the shit out of your wife. Then he saw them go upstairs somewhere. And then he saw you show up, and your ass looked angry,” Naughty added with a grin.
Then he continued. “Naturally he figured something was up. Especially when he left looking all angry himself. So he followed the guy. When he stopped at a gas station, that was when he had a conversation with him. He was going to die if he didn’t help us, he told him. He was going to live, and get paid quite generously, if he did help. He’s selfish, what can I say? He decided to live.”
“Where’s Arnie now?” Mick asked.
“Back in Boston. At the bar. I have to pick him up at ten, to escort him to the barber shop, like I do every other day at ten. And I’m already running late. If he gets suspicious, and notify Brazzano, you’ve got trouble on your hands.”
Charles looked at Mick. But Charles was staring at Naughty. “What the fuck is trouble to me?” he said to him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
The limousine stopped in front of the Boston bar, and Naughty looked nervously at the entrance. The driver was one of Mick’s men, and Naughty was in the backseat, like he always was, waiting on the boss. But he had company this time: Mick and Charles were back there too. And Mick had a gun trained on Naughty.
“One signal to anybody,” Mick said, “or one false move, and you’ll be roadkill before you can warn anybody. Understood?”
Naughty nodded. “I got it,” he said angrily. “Why you got to keep telling me that? I got it.”
And then he got out, to open the door for his boss.
Arnie Palmer came out within seconds, hurried across the sidewalk, and got into the limo without giving Naughty, or his driver, a second look. It was their routine. He had no reason to suspect any changes.
Until he got in the limousine.
As soon as he saw Charles Sinatra, but especially Mick Sinatra in that backseat, his body recoiled. “Shit,” he said, and attempted to back back out, but Naughty forced him back in and slammed the door shut. And the driver drove off.
“What are you crazy?” Arnie asked Naughty after being pushed back inside. “What are you a rat? You working for Mick the Tick now?”
“Just shut the fuck up and listen to them,” Naughty said. “They know what happened. They know what you ordered.”
“What I ordered?” Arnie asked. “What the fuck I ordered?”
“So this is how we’re going to play it, are we?” Charles asked. “We’re going to play the dumb game?”
“I want to know why you targeting me?” Arnie asked. “I don’t know what Naughty told you, but it’s all lies. I work for Pete Brazzano, what the fuck? You know he has a truce with you. Why would he do anything to harm your br
other?”
“Who said he did anything to harm my brother?” Mick asked.
Arnie realized he had spoken too soon. But he knew he had to stay with it. “Why else would he be with you out in the field? Everybody knows you work alone.”
“Why did you ambush Angelo and my brother?” Mick asked. “Why did you order that explosion at my brother’s house?”
“What ambush?” Arnie asked. “What explosion? What did Naughty tell you?”
“Ah, boss, what are you blind?” Naughty asked him, irritated. “You think Mick Sinatra is going to be sitting in this limo ready to take us out because we didn’t have nothing to do with nothing? He knows what we did already. Stop playing dumb already. Just tell the man what he needs to know. We’re fucked anyway. Knock that dumb shit off.”
Arnie was seething inside. But he was convinced he was untouchable. He was too high-ranking in Brazzano’s organization for Mick to lay a glove on him. Mick was the titan in the underworld, but Brazzano was big too. Fucking with his underboss would come with a price. “I don’t know what Naughty told you,” he said again, “but it’s a pack of lies. I had nothing to do with no explosion. I had nothing to do with no ambush.”
“We want a meeting with your boss,” Mick said. “Set it up.”
Arnie laughed. “Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t do that,” he had the nerve to say.
Even Charles looked at him. He was already inwardly enraged just to be in the same car with the man who ordered death and destruction on his family. It took all he had to just remain in his seat, and not down this asshole’s throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked him.
“I’m not leading no enemy to my boss’s camp,” Arnie said. “That’s what it means! You come at me like this, with guns and shit, and I’m not supposed to be offended, Micky? You and Brazzano have a truce. Why you wanna break it?”
“Cut the shit, Arne, before I lose my patience.” Mick said. “Set up a meeting with Brazzano, and set it up now.”
But Arnie leaned back. “I’ll die before I rat out my boss. I’m not like Naughty. I don’t snitch. I don’t set up my boss for a takedown. This stunt you just pulled ain’t gonna get Peetie Brazzano’s attention. This won’t get his attention.”
Charles grabbed the gun out of Mick’s hand before Mick could react, which astonished Mick. Charles placed that gun to Arnie’s forehead. Arnie and Naughty both jumped back. “Maybe that stunt won’t get his attention,” Charles said, “but I’ll bet you this one will.” And Charles pulled the trigger, and killed Brazzano’s underboss.
Everything changed when Arnie’s head fell back, shattered and bloodied, and then lobbed forward.
Mick was shocked by Charles’s action, but Naughty would never know it. “Take us to Brazzano,” he said. “Or you will most definitely be next.”
But Naughty shook his head. He was petrified now. “I don’t know where to take you,” he said. “I worked for Arnie. I never had access to Brazzano. I don’t know nothing about his schedule or his whereabouts or none of that shit. None of us knew. Arnie kept that a well-guarded secret.”
“That’s a shame,” Mick said. He knew they had to send a message a different way now. A way that normally would have automatically meant all-out war. But as far as Mick was concerned, it already was. “That’s a very, unfortunate shame,” he added to Naughty, and then shot and killed Naughty with a second gun Charles didn’t even realize he held.
Then Mick pressed the intercom button. “Go back to the bar,” he ordered the driver.
When they arrived at the bar, Mick looked at his brother. “You’re ready?” he asked him.
Charles nodded. “Am I ready to take out the assholes who tried to take my family out? Oh, yeah,” he said, and he and Mick got out.
They were armed to the teeth, especially Mick, whose long, white coat hid many compartments and many weapons. But when they first entered the relaxed bar, a bar everybody in the neighborhood knew wasn’t the kind of bar anybody could just walk into, Mick and Charles looked like two guys off the street who had stepped through the wrong door. One of Arnie’s men, the one running a card game, was about to tell those jokers to scram; that they weren’t serving customers there. Until he realized who one of those jokers were.
“Motherfuck it’s Mick the Tick!” he yelled, alerting everybody, and all of the men began putting down their cigars and cards and reaching for their weapons.
But it was too late. Way too late.
Mick and Charles stood there firing, in rapid release, killing all but one of them before the first weapon was drawn. They left one to be the messenger. But not before checking the back, in case somebody else was in the building. They checked upstairs too. But only the messenger remained.
They left the bar and headed back outside. Once inside the limo, they kicked first Naughty, and then Arnie, out onto the sidewalk. It was a definitive message they wanted Brazzano to get loud and clear.
Mick nodded. They were done. And the limo took off.
By the time Peetie Brazzano would learn that his long-time underboss wasn’t at the barber shop, but was lying dead like a rat right outside the bar Arnie used for years as his base of operations, the limo would be long gone, and well on its way back to Jericho.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Back at Andersonville, everybody sat quietly around the table. This was waiting time. Ashley and Donald were in the back, playing around with Bonita and keeping her away from any unpleasant conversations, while Tony and Robert sat at the table with their parents, and Mick.
“How long are we going to have to stay out here in these boonies before I can get back on the campaign trail?” Robert asked. “I had to cancel all of my guest appearances. That makes me look like somebody who doesn’t have his act together.”
“Your parents’ home was firebombed, Bobby,” Tony said. “I think your constituents will understand.”
“You don’t know Jericho,” Robert said, “if you think that.” Then he exhaled. “But it’s not over, is it Dad?” he asked. “I can see it on your faces.”
“You had to look at their faces to see that?” Tony asked. “How about looking at the security around this place? There are guards literally everywhere. And a helicopter hovering above the place, too?”
Robert smiled and shook his head. He couldn’t believe it, either.
“A helicopter!” Tony said again.
“I said damn when I saw it too,” Robert said. “Uncle Mick don’t be playing!”
“His guards don’t either,” Tony said. “I thought I could go outside and get me some fresh air, you know? Maybe give Sharon a call. Well forget about that. They told me I had to go right back inside.”
“They told you? You’re a grown-ass man,” Robert said.
“That’s right,” Tony agreed. “So I questioned his authority to tell me anything. I said go back inside? Says who? Then the guard says, ‘says Mick Sinatra.’ Enough said. I went back inside.”
Robert laughed. Jenay did too. But Mick and Charles knew what they had done back in Boston. They knew what their actions meant. They didn’t crack so much as a smirk.
And when a cellphone rang, even Mick flinched. It astounded Jenay. What happened in Boston, she wondered.
But it was Charles’s phone that was ringing. Brazzano wouldn’t be calling Charles. Mick relaxed again.
And Charles looked at the Caller ID, and answered the call. “Hey, Brent,” he said.
“Put it on Speaker,” Jenay said.
Charles placed the call on Speaker. “How’s Makayla?” he asked.
“Better. Much better. Say hey, babe,” Brent said to his wife.
“Hey, Big Daddy,” Makayla said, and everybody smiled.
“You sound really strong, Kayla,” Charles said. “Brent said you weren’t feeling so great last night. You’re feeling better?”
“Yes, much. Completely so.”
“We’re so happy to hear it,” Jenay said. “How long did the doctor say you’ll need
to stay there?”
“Just a few more days,” Makayla said. “They just want to make sure I heal properly, I guess. But I can’t wait.”
“And you just started that new job. I hope your employer understands.”
“He’d better,” Makayla said, “or I’ll sic Brent on him.”
Brent laughed. Jenay and Charles looked at each other. It was a long time since Brent cut loose like that. They loved it.
“Junior still at the hospital?” Charles asked.
“Oh, yes,” Makayla said. “Brent won’t let him out of our sight. He allowed Junior to have a play date with Bonita, but that was as far as he was willing to go. He says we stay together as a family unit. And with the number of guards Uncle Mick has surrounding our room, it’s enough to keep us feeling very secure.”
“He’s got an army here too,” Robert said. “And a fucking helicopter.”
“A helicopter?” Makayla asked. “Dang!”
“What about Uncle Angelo, Pop?” Brent asked. “How’s he doing?”
“He’s devastated,” Charles said, “as you can imagine. But he left already.”
“He left?”
“His men came from L.A. and picked him up.”
“By men,” Brent asked, “you mean Mafia men?”
“His men,” was all Charles would say about it.
“What about you guys?” Makayla asked. “How are you holding up?”
“Barely,” Robert said.
“Little more than barely,” Tony said, “but barely.”
“We’re fine,” Jenay said. “Don’t mind them. They have cabin fever already.”
“That’s my brothers,” Brent said with a chuckle. “They wouldn’t last a week in a jungle.”
“Neither would your ass!” Robert fired back, and they all laughed.
But when Mick’s cellphone began ringing, it was no longer a laughing matter.
“Let me call you back,” Charles said, and quickly ended the call.
Mick looked at his Caller ID. When he saw that it was Brazzano’s private number, he answered. “Hello, Pete.”
Big Daddy Sinatra: Charles In Charge (Big Daddy Sinatra Series Book 6) Page 15
