And as Tommy held the hands of his fallen kin, and promised each one of them that they were going to be alright, he somehow knew this was only the beginning. Somebody wanted to bring down the Gabrini and Sinatra dynasties in one swift swoop, and they planned it and double-planned it to near-perfection. And Dapper Tom, the supposedly lover not the fighter of the four great men, was the one still standing. Backdoor Tommy was the one who had to represent. They had brought the fight to him. Now he had to take it to them. Grace told him, before the wedding, that she could handle it now. She told him she knew what it meant to be a Gabrini now. Life circumstance, and this bat-shit crazy hit, was about to test her resolve.
CHAPTER ONE
Eleven Months Earlier
He felt her kiss on his lips. He knew it was her without opening his eyes. Nobody kissed like her. He smiled and placed his arms around her sleek black body, and enjoyed that kiss. And when it was feeling so good, and feeling so right, he guided his penis inside of her, and pushed. And began to groove.
“Aaah, he moaned as his fully erected cock rubbed against her ridges. At long last he had her. At long last he was moving deep inside of her. At last.
And then the phone was ringing. Why was a phone ringing at a time like this? Tommy opened his eyes. At first it shocked him. Her naked body was not on top of his naked body. His penis was nowhere near her. He was naked, but alone in his bed. What in the world was wrong with him? Why in the world was he dreaming, yet again, about Grace?
He reached over and grabbed the phone off of his nightstand. He had to hesitate before he answered because his sleepiness still hung heavy over him. “Yeah?” His voice was hoarse. It was barely audible.
It was his secretary. “Sorry to disturb you this early, sir,” his assistant said over the phone, “but we were finally able to track down Miss Logan. I just received the call back. I have her on the other line right now. May I send the call through?”
Tommy removed the phone from his ear and continued to lay there. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to take the call. But he knew they had to resolve this. He put the phone back to his ear. “Put her through,” he ordered.
He hadn’t heard from Liz in nearly a month. She ran a foreign affairs news magazine that took her out of the country often, but this was getting ridiculous. She was out of the country more often than she was in the country and Tommy was well tired of it. Changes had to be made if their relationship was going to survive. He’d already told her so repeatedly. But she had not heeded any of his warnings.
When the call came through, the phone reception wasn’t the best, but clear enough. “Tommy, hey.” Liz Logan’s voice could be heard through the static sounds. “I was going to phone you.”
It sounded almost lame to Tommy. It was the same line he used to lay on his women when he hadn’t bothered to check up on them.
“How are you?” Liz asked.
“How are you?” Tommy asked.
“I’m good. Busy, but good.”
Tommy could hear what sounded like a lot of outdoor activity in her background. A lot of commotion. And Liz sounded winded, as if she was walking as she spoke. “Where are you?” he asked.
“We’re on the move. It’s a lot going on.”
But it was a non-response as far as Tommy was concerned. “Where are you?” he asked again.
“It’s a tough area, but I’m okay.”
Tommy wanted to ring her neck. “Where, Liz?”
There was a hesitation. “Syria,” she said.
Tommy couldn’t believe it. “Syria? Liz, are you nuts? What are you doing in that hellish place?”
“I’m a war correspondent, Tommy. Going to hellish places is what I do.”
“You own the magazine. Let somebody else go!”
“I can’t. It’s too crazy right now! Vladimir Putin is sending ground troops in to prop up Bashar al-Assad’s regime, the U.S. and NATO forces are dropping bombs on ISIS, and the Shias and Sunnis are fighting the shit out of each other. This is the only show in town. All hands have to be on deck right now. That means me and every available reporter I have. We’re all here.”
Tommy rubbed his forehead. “Let somebody else handle it, Liz.”
“There is nobody else. Aren’t you listening to me? There is nobody else.”
Tommy suddenly heard an explosion through the phone that caused even him, from the safe confines of his Seattle estate, to feel its force. What the fuck? “Liz? Liz? Elizabeth?”
“I’m okay!” Her voice came back onto the phone, but it sounded strained. Then Tommy heard her talking to somebody with her: “Raj, Raj! You okay? Any of our people hit?”
“We . . . all . . .,” Tommy heard someone, a male’s voice with a middle-eastern accent, respond back to her, but it wasn’t clear. “We are all okay,” he said again, but this time Tommy could hear him clearer. “But they say hospital bombed. They say they have bombed hospital.”
“Good Lord,” Liz said to Raj. “Which one?”
“Women and children,” Raj continued. “The people are saying it is women and children at hospital!”
Liz sounded as if she was running now. “Who bombed it?” Liz asked the man. “The Russians?”
But what Raj responded was so mangled and unclear Tommy couldn’t make it out.
But when Liz said, “we’ve got to get over there,” Tommy heard it loud and clear. “Liz, don’t you dare!” he said.
“Can you arrange a car?” Liz asked the middle-easterner.
“Car’s over there,” Raj responded. “Let us get there now. We could be first journalists on scene.”
“I’ve got to go, Tommy,” Liz said into the phone. She sounded as if she was running even faster now. “This could be an exclusive. I’ll call you later. Love you. Bye!”
“Liz?” Tommy was astounded. The idea of his woman smack dab in the middle of a war zone stunned him. She said she was going to her magazine’s overseas bureau, not to the front lines! “Liz? Liz?” But he knew she had already gone.
He ended the call too, and leaned his head back. He didn’t want this shit! Every fiber of his being hated that he was, once again, saddled in a relationship with a woman who craved danger. He wanted to call her again and order her to get her ass back to the states right now, but he knew it would be a waste of time. But this shit was getting serious now. This was getting to be a matter of life and death. It had been going on too long, and they both had avoided the truth of their troubled relationship even longer than that. He was going to have to put his foot down. He was going to have to give her an ultimatum.
Or, he thought again, he was going to have to give himself one.
He picked up the phone again, and called his pilot.
“Which way?” Mike Dobson asked Narly Fann as he drove his Jeep Cherokee through more high thickets of weeds and grass, their bodies bouncing with every trek across the uneven terrain.
“Turn right,” Narly responded.
“We’re getting deeper and deeper into these woods. You’re sure this is the right way?”
“What are you asking me a question like that for? How the fuck can I be sure? You think the Google truck go into this hellhole? You think there’s GPS back here? I’m not sure about any of this. Just keep turning right. That’s the way I was told. That’s the way we’re going.”
“And what about this guy anyway?” Mike asked. “This Ed Jefferson? I never heard of him before. And he’s a doctor? What kind of doctor would do something like this?”
“Just shut your trap and drive,” Narly responded. “Don’t you worry about who he is.”
“But you trust him?” Mike looked over at Narly. If Narly trusted this so-called doctor, that was good enough for Mike. But Mike needed to be sure.
“Yeah,” Narly said. “I trust him. Just drive.”
Narly trusted Ed Jefferson about as far as he could throw him, mainly because he didn’t know him like that, but he was promised a big payday. He didn’t know what he and Mike would be asked to do f
or that pay, but for fifty grand it didn’t much matter: he’d do anything for that kind of dough. Including journeying all the way to this cabin in the boonies just to get his instructions.
After yet another right turn, and more questions from Mike, the Jeep finally arrived at its destination. It was a cabin in the woods, alright. But it looked spooky even to hardened criminals like Narly and Mike. This was nobody’s vacation home. This was a hideout.
“Should we take extra hardware?” Mike asked as he turned off the motor.
“Not yet,” Narly said, getting out. “Let’s see what we have to do first.”
As Mike got out too, Narly walked up to the door and knocked. Within seconds it was opened by a tall, distinguished-looking African-American male in round specs. Neurosurgeon Ed Jefferson. “What took you so long?” he asked snappishly. “I said twelve-thirty!”
“We got here as fast as we could,” Narly snapped back. “We’re no fucking magicians. This place is in the gotdamn jungle!”
“Just come in,” Ed said irritably, and began turning away from the front door. These crackers better know what they’re doing, he thought as he turned.
But Narly wasn’t following his lead. “Not so fast, Doc,” he said. They weren’t going into any cabin until they saw the money. “What exactly are you asking us to do? And where’s the cash? Money upfront. That was the deal.”
Ed exhaled. It was only then did Narly see how overwhelmed he looked. And he could tell it wasn’t just because they came late either.
“Well talk motherfucker,” Mike said, noticing Ed’s wariness too. He was standing behind his partner in case some funny stuff went down. He was looking over Narly’s shoulder. “What is it you want us to do, and where’s the money?”
“It’s a kill,” Ed said in a way that let both men know this area of life was new to him. This, they believed, was Ed’s first rodeo. “You guys up for a kill?”
“Fifty grand still the price?” Narly asked.
“It’s still the price,” Ed said.
“Then hell yeah we’re up for it. How many?”
Ed frowned. “How many what?”
Narly and Mike looked at each other. Narly looked back at Ed. “How many people do you need us to take out? How many on the kill list?”
“Oh,” Ed said. The idea of a kill list? Were they serious? “Just one,” he said.
“Who?” Mike asked.
“A guy. A very rich and powerful guy. I heard you two took out the rich and powerful before. That’s no turnoff to you, right?”
“Why would that turn us off?” Narly asked. “We’ll handle who we have to handle to get paid.”
But Mike had more questions. “Who’s the target? How much are you paying up front? When do we get the rest?”
“Twenty grand up front,” Ed said. “We meet back here for final payment, for the other thirty grand. You call me and say it’s done, we meet for payment. But only after I get unambiguous confirmation that the job is done.”
“Answer the rest of it, man,” Mike said. “Who’s this guy you want us to take out? Who’s this guy to you?”
Ed didn’t want to go there, but he knew he had no choice if he expected their help. “He’s my wife’s ex-husband, alright? He’s my stepdaughter’s father.”
Narly studied him. “Why would you want him dead?” Narly asked. “He want his wife back?”
“Because I need money,” Ed said. “Big money. The kind of money even a doctor can’t make. With him out of the way, I’ll be sitting on a goldmine.”
“A goldmine? The stepdaughter?” Narly asked.
“My stepdaughter,” Ed said with a nod. “She’ll be under me and my wife’s complete control. Her and all of those millions her dead daddy will leave her.”
Narly looked at him suspiciously. He didn’t know Ed like that. Only through a friend of a friend of a friend. But this reeked of more killings to come if the wife wasn’t involved. “Your wife on board with this?” he asked Ed.
“Of course she’s not on board!” Ed lashed out. “That’s the father of her child. She’s still in love with the joker! But that’s why this killing has to be professional. That’s why I’m willing to pay top dollar. You’ve got to make it look like an accident unquestioned.”
But the more Ed talked, the less comfortable Mike was getting. The fact that the wife wasn’t onboard was a problem. “Who is he?” Mike asked. “Who’s the bullseye?”
Ed was told that these two men were tough enough. He was relying on their toughness now. “Tommy Gabrini,” he said.
As soon as that name was spoken, the expression on both men’s faces changed. Narly even more so than Mike. “Tommy Gabrini?” he asked. “Are you out of your fucking mind? You want us to take out Tommy Gabrini?”
Ed was disappointed. “What’s the big damn deal?” he asked. “It’ll be the easiest fifty grand you ever made. He won’t know what hit him!”
“But we’ll know what hit us!” Mike fumed. “Are you fucking serious? He’s Tommy Gabrini! He’s Sal Gabrini’s brother! He’s Reno Gabrini’s cousin! He’s Mick the Tick’s nephew for crying out loud! Do you know who Mick the Tick is? Do you know what that man is capable of? Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Mike began walking away.
“What are you afraid of?” Ed asked, panicking now. “They’ll never know it was you!”
But Mike was already heading back toward the Jeep. “I’m out,” he said.
Ed looked at Narly. He was his last hope. “I heard you had the grit I need,” he said. “Or are you a yellow belly like your partner?”
“When it comes to the Gabrinis? I’m a yellow belly,” Narly said without an ounce of pride, and began leaving too. He loved money, but he loved living more.
But Ed knew he couldn’t let them just leave. They knew the plan now. What would stop them from taking that information to the authorities? Or even worse, if the price was right, to the Gabrinis?
Ed hurried out of the cabin, pulling out his gun and resting it at his side as he walked up to the Jeep. The two men didn’t see it coming when this mild-mannered doctor lifted that gun and shot one, and then the other one, straight through the forehead. It was his first double kill. But they were wrong. It wasn’t his first time at the rodeo.
It also wasn’t his first time around dead bodies. He was a doctor. He saw death all the time. But the fact that they were dead didn’t make Ed’s job any easier. He had bodies to bury now. He had to convince Grace that he loved and cared about her and her irritating daughter a little longer now. Because Tommy still had to go. He was still going down. But the plan was going to have to change. Without hitmen to do his dirty work, Ed didn’t have the cover he was hoping for. He didn’t have the alibi effect. But that didn’t matter. Gabrini still had to go. Only it was the good doctor Ed, and not two random henchmen, who would have to get it done.
CHAPTER TWO
“Cheers,” Liz Logan said to Raj, and they toasted to another job well done. He had been Liz’s photojournalist for the past three years, but had only started working closely with her for the past three months. The best three months of his entire life, if he had to say so himself. But he didn’t. Liz, like most Americans, never asked his opinion.
“You’re an excellent photojournalist, Raj,” Liz said to him. “One of the best. You’re due a raise.”
Raj smiled greatly. “Now that calls for a toast.”
Liz laughed as they toast again. Then her smile eased, and she shook her head. “I still can’t get over the scene at that hospital,” she said. “All of the carnage. All of the victims.”
“And so young they were,” Raj said.
“Babies,” Liz said.
Raj looked at her. “What about you? Any babies of your own? Now or in the future?”
“No and no,” Liz said.
“No?” Raj was surprised. “You do not want to have children? What woman does not want babies?”
“This woman,” Liz said. “It’s not that I’ll never have any. Bu
t I don’t want any right now. Not with my lifestyle. It wouldn’t be fair to the child.”
Raj looked at her. Fair to the child his ass. Liz Logan had a lot of great qualities, a lot of wonderful qualities, but selflessness wasn’t one of them. “What about your male friend?” he asked. “The one that phones too much?”
Liz smiled. “I never said he phones too much.”
“You did not have to say. The way you rush him off the phone, the way you quickly end the calls, says so. What about him? Does he not care about your decision?”
In truth, Raj was the only person she’d shared her feelings with. “We haven’t discussed it yet,” she said.
Raj smiled and shook his head. “You Americans. You think time is eternal.”
“I think no such thing!”
“But you do, Liz. And it is with grave displeasure that I have to tell you this, but you are not, how do you say? So young? Time may leave you or, how is it said? Run out on you. Time may run out.”
Liz nodded. She was well aware of that fact. Tommy had mentioned it more than once. He was older than she was. He was especially aware. “I know I don’t have a wealth of time,” she said. “But I can’t change who I am, or what I do. Babies can wait. The world is on fire and I’m fortunate enough to be a journalist with a ringside seat witnessing the blaze. I’m not missing out, man. I’m not giving this up. No way.”
“We are in the center,” Raj said. “We cannot miss it.”
Liz smiled. She knew he didn’t understand the nuisance of what she meant, but it didn’t matter. She sipped more beer.
Raj watched her drink her beer. “I suggest we retire upstairs,” he said, “and rest until we get the call. I will give you another one of my world class massages.”
Liz rubbed her neck. She could surely use a world class massage. But she was nobody’s fool. This man didn’t want to ease her muscles. He wanted, once again, to ease his boner. “We’d better wait right here,” she said. “I’d never forgive myself if Adabi showed up and I wasn’t in place.”
Tommy Gabrini: The Grace Factor Page 2
