by Saul, Jonas
Both backdoors ripped open in unison and the tips of long guns jammed in each side.
“Get out,” someone ordered.
Slowly, so as not to die because of a nervous finger, Darwin and Rosina got out of the backseat of the police cruiser, standing on opposite sides.
“Why is it called ‘cold-blooded’ murder when humans are warm-blooded?” Darwin asked.
The guy holding a weapon at Darwin’s forehead frowned. “What?”
“Nothing,” Darwin said. He lowered his voice and talked through his nose to sound like Darth Vader. “Take us to your leader.”
The guy looked at the driver. “Is this the guy that Frankie told you to go get?”
“That’s him. Darwin Kostas and his wife, Rosina.”
The gunman looked back at Darwin. “You gotta be fucking kidding me. This is the guy that took out the Fuccinis? No way. I don’t believe it.”
Darwin shook his head and looked at his shoes. “You know, I’m getting sick and tired of everyone underestimating me.” He looked back at the gunman and stared into his eyes. “I killed the Harvester of Sorrow. I killed Vincenzo Fuccini and his father and many of the men he had working for him. They’re gone. You should have a little more respect for what I’ve done. This body is a disguise.” Darwin waved his arms up and down the length of his sides.
The guy with the gun stepped back. “Careful.”
“Darwin,” Rosina said from the other side of the car. “Don’t hurt them. They’re just doing their jobs. Let’s at least meet who they’ve brought us to meet.”
The cop stepped closer and nodded at Darwin. “What are you talking about, disguise?”
“Under this lovely pair of shorts and this large T-shirt is a midget ninja always selling myself short.”
The cop shook his head and closed his eyes for a brief second as if he was clearing a cobweb. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. “What?”
The gunman laughed. “I get it. He’s a comedian. Canada has lots of them. John Candy, Jim Carrey, and Michael J. Fox.”
The cop looked at the gunman. “You’re fucked too. Michael J. Fox isn’t a comedian. He was that guy in Back to the Future.”
“Don’t say I’m fucked ever again.”
The gunman moved his aim a little.
“Threaten me with that weapon and I will shove it up your ass so far you’ll be putting a straw in the barrel to drink.”
“Okay, okay,” a man shouted from behind them. “Enough of this. Bring them inside.”
The gunman sneered at the cop, but stepped back and gave Darwin room to walk.
“Let’s go.”
Darwin headed around the front of the cruiser and met up with Rosina. Together, surrounded by eight gunmen and a cop, they approached the front of the huge manor.
He counted sixteen windows in the front of the house, with two of them an entire floor high. As they approached the stairs that led to the two massive wooden front doors, he saw who had spoken a moment ago.
The man standing on the front steps had a barrel chest, a slim goatee and a physique that shouted muscle.
“Good evening,” he said.
His greeting reminded Darwin of Dracula welcoming guests to his castle.
“Come,” the man said and opened the front doors in unison.
Everyone climbed the five stairs and followed Darwin and Rosina as they followed the man who resembled an ape.
The foyer was massive, with two sets of stairs winding up in a half circle on either side. Darwin saw money on everything he set his eyes on, from the Afghan carpets to the crown molding.
He took it all in with a sense of hope. Whoever had the money to own a home like this couldn’t only profit from illegal activities. Eventually they would have gotten caught. It would be too risky to live a life outside the law and enjoy the comforts of a home like this.
Crime doesn’t pay this well. Or does it?
He chanced a side glance at Rosina, winked and smiled to reassure her.
They entered a hallway and started for the back of the house. At the end of the long hall, it opened to the rear where Darwin was shocked again. An Olympic-size pool had two bikini-clad girls frolicking around with a beach ball. To the left, about twenty meters from the pool, sat the gates of a tennis court. On the right was a large square that resembled a chess or checkers game board, but life-sized. Exterior lights illuminated the entire area in amber.
Lounge chairs were spread around the circumference of the pool. The man leading them moved toward the checkerboard and sat in a large, leather, padded office chair. He motioned to his right where Darwin saw another such chair.
“Darwin, my friend, come, sit beside me.” The man turned to his guards. “Take Rosina to one of the lounges and watch her closely.”
Darwin gave Rosina a nod and they separated, sitting down in their designated spots over twenty meters apart. If things went bad, Darwin worried that Rosina was sitting too far from him.
He scanned the back of the property. A fence, at least twenty feet tall, lined the perimeter.
Shit, I can’t climb that high. How the fuck do we get out of here?
More armed men showed up, guns slung over their shoulders. It didn’t look like there were too many escape routes.
The large man beside him leaned back and looked Darwin up and down. He had a half smile on his face, like the other half of his lips were immobile.
“So, we finally meet,” the man said.
“Yes, we do,” Darwin said. “But I didn’t get your name.”
“Frankie Gambino,” he said and leaned forward, his hand extended. “Pleased to meet you.”
Darwin took the man’s hand and almost shouted. Gambino’s grip was like getting his hand caught in a car door. He made his face stolid, his own grip intense.
“Can you tell me why we’re here?” Darwin asked.
“Sure. I sent for you because I had to meet the man who finished the job for me.”
“I’m not sure I understand.”
The cop who brought them here shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. Gambino looked over at him and the cop diverted his gaze.
“Don’t move,” Gambino said to their driver. “You’re staying for the game. Then you collect your money and leave. Got it?”
The cop nodded and sat down in a nearby chair.
Gambino turned back to Darwin. “I’m sure you are aware of a certain meeting that took place many months ago in an airplane hangar on the outskirts of Toronto between different powerful families in that area.”
Darwin nodded.
“Yes, you were there in your Ford Mustang. You accidentally killed Vincenzo. Then, in Rome you took out more of Fuccini’s men and finally, back to the hangar where you and your biker friends killed the Fuccini Family boss.”
“Most of that was pure luck.”
Gambino laughed and held his stomach, acting as if it hurt. On cue, all the gunmen laughed with him. Gambino slowed and then stopped laughing. The men surrounding him became silent.
“I’m serious,” Darwin pleaded. “They kept coming after me. I was just defending myself.”
Gambino held up his meaty hand. “You’re not on trial here. You don’t have to lie. For whatever reason, they’re all gone now and you’re the man who aided them in their hasty retreat from this shitty world. Am I right so far?”
“Yeah, but—”
He moved his hand up again cutting Darwin off. “Simple yes or no would do. Are you Darwin Kostas, the man who has been put into an FBI safe house for your protection because of the high-level killings that took place a few months ago?”
Darwin nodded and said, “Yes.”
“Okay, that’s why I sent those two assholes to get you.”
“What two assholes?”
“Nick and Lee, the two agents who fucked up. They were sent to kill the three men watching you and bring you to me. But instead, as I understand it, you killed them. I’m fascinated by that. Tell me, how did you do it? How do
you kill so easily?”
“I don’t kill easily.”
Gambino leaned farther back in his chair and clasped his hands together, resting them in his lap. “You know, I’m not really into laughing right now. Don’t play stupid. Answer my questions. Converse with me. Man to man, I don’t mind a little ribbing from someone I know, but I don’t know you and we are talking in front of all my men. Don’t try to embarrass me, because I’ll win. I always do.”
Darwin nodded, his stomach dropping another foot. His mind raced but there was nothing he could think of doing that would get them out of the current situation. He had to play along.
“I sent for you for two reasons. One, I wanted to thank you for finishing the job I had started when I tried to execute everyone at that meeting in the hangar. Two, I wanted to find out who hired you. Why did you go after the Fuccinis?”
“I am a simple Canadian boy, born and bred. I watch hockey, drink beer.” He grabbed his small belly. Just recently it had started to slip over his waistline. “And I want to live a peaceful and quiet life. No one hired me. I didn’t know the Fuccinis before that night. I don’t do well in the dark so I was driving with the interior light on when I hit Vincenzo. It was purely an accident. Nothing else.”
Gambino raised his hands and started clapping. “Nice speech.” He lowered his hands to his lap again. “Now for the truth. I warned you a moment ago. No fucking around. What you just said is impossible, absolutely and utterly. If that were true, why did you fly to Rome, willingly walk into their hands and then attack the Fuccini building in Rome? Why did you then fly back to Toronto and drag Fuccini to that hangar and kill him where you killed his son? Looks like execution to me and I know a lot about that. Looks like revenge to me, which I also know something about. I heard you had help. A biker gang? The FBI? Come on, Darwin Kostas, if that’s your real name, tell me who you are and who your employers are.” Gambino waved his arm out toward his guards. “I don’t have to threaten you. I won’t go into what will happen if you continue to lie. We’re bigger than that. Just tell me what I want to know.”
Darwin swiveled his chair so he sat face to face with Gambino. Armed men stepped closer. “I am telling you the truth,” he said in his most serious voice. “What you’ve heard has been filtered and made to sound wild and crazy. I don’t work for anybody, unless you consider my publisher an employer, and last time I checked, Amazon has killer books, but they aren’t employing their authors to execute members of the Mafia.”
Gambino nodded. “I checked you out. I saw your books online. Nice job. Who does your covers?”
“My wife is a graphic designer.”
Gambino turned and gestured at Rosina. “Great covers.”
She waved a hand in thanks.
Gambino leaned his elbows on his thighs and stretched closer to Darwin. “You have to understand something. When one man goes up against the Fuccinis and has the kind of success you had, it causes concern. What if that man decided that the Gambinos needed to go? What if that man started a war between me and rival families? Do you see where I’m going with this? I needed to meet you to see for myself. After everything I heard, you don’t look anything like I pictured. And where did you get those shorts?”
Darwin looked down at his lap. “You know, I have to tell you, I’m really getting tired of people thinking I’m some professional hit man. My wife and I were in trouble. I handled the situation. That’s all. It’s what any husband would do.”
“Like what Hernandez did.”
“Hernandez? Who is that?”
Gambino motioned to a guard out by the pool who was watching the two girls as they swam—a lot quieter now, the beach ball all but forgotten as the tension between Gambino and Darwin increased. “Take those two out of the pool and keep them out of sight. Bring in the entire Hernandez family and get them in position to start the executions.”
The guard barked an order and the two girls, who couldn’t be more than eighteen, exited the water and followed him out of sight.
“Executions?” Darwin asked.
“I ordered an execution in Las Vegas six months ago. Who it was isn’t important. The man I had ordered killed had been gambling with my money, borrowing more and getting so far in debt that I knew he’d never pay it back. I worked out a deal and secured the majority of my money through his business assets in the event of his death. He agreed. But I still didn’t have my money so I had him killed to get back what was due to me. In the rear access area of the Tropicana Hotel, my four men showed up and executed him. Mr. Hernandez saw the whole thing. He knew the faces of my men. A half hour before, they’d been playing high-stakes blackjack at his table. Hernandez was a great card dealer, but now he’s dead.”
Sweat gathered on Darwin’s forehead and his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He glanced at Rosina. She looked somewhat composed but he could tell she was terrified of what was about to happen.
“Why would Mr. Hernandez be dead now?” Darwin asked.
“The police arrived and asked if anyone saw anything. Hernandez was the only witness. He told the cops everything. He gave them the identity of my men from the casino file off the cards the casinos give out to add points to your account as you gamble. That’s the kind of stuff cops have to get warrants for, but Mr. Hernandez was really helpful. Signed a statement and was prepared to tell his story in court. But I couldn’t let that happen. My men are too valuable. Two weeks later, Mr. Hernandez was found missing his hands, his feet, and his head. That was three weeks ago. They’re still trying to figure out whose torso it is they found in the Grand Canyon. They’re also trying to figure out what happened to his entire family. Extended family too.” Gambino gestured toward the pool. “The whole lot of them have been our guests here for the past three weeks. Funny, huh? The investigators think the Hernandez family skipped town. No one suspects where they actually are. Insane, eh?”
Darwin nodded. “Yeah, totally insane.”
A woman followed the guard around the pool. Behind her were three girls, all differing in age, two boys in their teens, an old man walking with a cane, and three women in their fifties. After a brief pause, four more adults walked out, two Asians and two with darker skin that made Darwin think of India. In total, he counted fourteen people standing by the pool.
“Set them up on the board. Split them evenly, seven on each side.”
A group of guards stepped away to help make sure everyone was where they were supposed to be. Darwin had no idea what he was about to witness, but he was pretty sure he wouldn’t enjoy it.
“Take the shirts off the white team. Do it now.”
Guards stepped in and started ripping the shirts off the people standing on the right. The two older women didn’t protest. They appeared resigned to their fate. But the teenage girl protested. Two guards jumped on her, tore her shirt off and lifted her back to her feet. One of the guards held her while the other whispered something in her ear.
Whatever he said made her face turn white. She stood stock still in her pants and bra as the men slowly stepped away.
Darwin couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Seven men and women stood fully clothed on the left and seven men and women, some as young as fifteen from what he could tell, stood on the right with no shirts on.
“We’re going to have us a game of human checkers. We don’t have the full twenty-four pieces, but this’ll do. We’ll have to assume the other five pieces each have already been taken off the board. Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” Darwin asked.
“To play.”
“Uhm, I haven’t played checkers in years. I think I’ll pass.”
Gambino nodded.
A guard rushed in close and drove his fist into Darwin’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. Darwin gasped and bent over until his face hung over his knees, trying to gather any air back into his lungs. For a brief moment he thought he would vomit.
“Darwin, you don’t get the option to not play. Do you understand?”
> Darwin barely heard him. He was still trying to breathe.
“I asked you a question. Do not make me ask it again.”
With a hand on each knee, Darwin pushed himself up, breathing better with every inhale. He nodded. “What happens … if I win?”
“Here are the rules. Play me human checkers and I guarantee, if you win, you will get to be blindfolded and driven out of my home and delivered to a destination of your choice. Deal?”
“You … serious?” he asked, finally getting his breathing back to normal.
“Of course I am.” He looked over at the fidgeting cop. “Bob, tell him I’m serious. You know me after all the years I’ve employed you. Can you honestly say that when I guarantee something that I come through?”
