“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what my meeting with Salducci was about,” Ray said, taking a nervous sip of water.
Alicia leaned closer to him and placed her hand on his thigh. “I’m sure you will do the right thing,” she said.
“If I do the right thing,” Ray said. “I will end up unemployed or dead. Probably both.”
“That’s quite a dilemma.”
“Yes, it is.
“Ray, how did you get mixed up in all this?”
“Alicia, if I told you, it would be your responsibility as a good citizen to report me to the police. You’re better off not knowing.”
“Does anyone else know your secret?” She asked.
“No one.”
“You have to trust someone eventually.”
Alicia hit a nerve with her comment. Ray had been alone with his misery for so long he couldn’t imagine receiving sympathy from another human being.
“Alicia, I would like nothing better than to trust you, but it’s better that you don’t know.”
“Is it really that bad?” she asked, pensively, as she placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Very bad,” Ray said, trying to suppress the emotions that were fighting to rise to the surface. He had the urge to tell her everything and unload the oppressive burden he had been carrying for the past three years, but it would place them both in danger.
“Ray, no matter how bad it is, I’ll keep your secret,” Alicia said, staring directly into his eyes. “I’m a perceptive person. I know you’re hiding something painful. If I had to guess, I would say you were forced to kill someone and you’re on the run from the law.”
Ray didn’t know how to respond because she was very close to the truth and he feared exposing it.
“Think about it for a moment, Ray, while I check on the steaks,” Alicia said, gently, rubbing his shoulder. “You have to trust someone eventually. I can see it in your face that you want to tell me, but you’re not sure if you can trust me. Believe me, you can. I’ll be right back.”
Alicia stood up, walked to the balcony, and checked the steaks on the grill. She used the tongs to flip them over and returned to the couch. This time, she pressed her entire body against Ray’s and placed her arm around his shoulders.
“I can see that you want to tell me,” Alicia said, drawing close and kissing him. “I wish you would trust me.”
Ray kissed her back hard. He put his whole soul into the kiss and released all the pent-up bad feelings he had accumulated since the horrific experience began three years ago. Alicia kissed him back and wrapped her arms around him. She climbed onto his lap and kissed his neck. He cupped her breasts as he slid his lips down to kiss the soft skin on her throat. She moaned with pleasure. The moan triggered a signal in his brain and he stopped.
“Why are you stopping,” she asked.
“This isn’t a good idea,” he said, feeling emotions tugging him in opposite directions. He wanted to confess everything and release all the pain of the past three years, and yet his survival mechanisms were deeply ingrained.
“Ray, tell me your secret and I will help you,” Alicia whispered in his ear.
That did it. Her empathetic words opened a breach in his mind’s wall and all his carefully built defenses crumbled.
“Okay, I’ll tell you,” he said, placing his hands on her waist as he gazed directly into her eyes. “Whatever happens, it can’t get any worse for me than it is now.”
He paused as his mind made a last-ditch attempt to repair the breach.
“Tell me,” she whispered, kissing him on the lips.
“Alicia, I was set up,” Ray said as tears formed in his eyes. “I was an NYC cop. My partners set me up for a drug crime and I went to prison.”
He wiped his eyes and regained his composure as the sordid tale flooded from his lips as if a sluice-gate opened in his mind. Tears of sympathy formed in Alicia’s eyes as she listened to his account of the hell he went through in prison. He had broken down, lost control, and everything came out with the force of a tsunami through a breached sea wall.
When he was done telling his story, she pulled him close and whispered in his ear,
“Ray, it wasn’t your fault. You did what you had to do to escape and survive. What you did wasn’t your fault.”
Ray exhaled a deep breath as if he had been anxiously awaiting this simple statement of sympathy for the past three years. Lying his head on her shoulder, he felt as if an immense burden had been lifted. Alicia caressed the back of his neck and whispered in his ear, “Everything is going to be all right now. I’m going take care of you.”
Ray felt emotionally exhausted and it took several moments before he could think clearly again.
“Alicia, I didn’t want to get you involved in this.”
“I know, baby, I know. It doesn’t matter. I want to be involved,” she whispered, kissing his cheeks softly.
“As long as you know the truth and you think you can deal with it, that’s good enough for me,” Ray said.
“It’s okay, baby, it’s all over. I’ll take care of you now.”
As Ray’s mind regained its equilibrium, he remembered the steaks on the grill. Glancing out the glass sliders, he saw thick black smoke billowing out from beneath the grill’s cover.
“I think we forgot about something,” he said, gesturing toward the sliders.
“Oh shit,” Alicia said, standing up. She ran to the sliding door, tugged it open, and turned off the grill. She didn’t bother to open the cover.
With the crisis averted, Alicia returned to Ray and held out her hand to him. He stood up and hugged her tight. She led him into the bedroom and they made love like sweethearts who had been reunited after years of separation.
Chapter 58
The Job
After, they lay in each other’s arms until Ray recovered his wits enough to remember they had jobs to return to. Alicia was prepared to blow off the rest of her shift, but Ray told her he had to go back. Alicia threw the burnt steaks in the trash and nuked some microwave meals. They ate quickly and made it back to the Club by 6:00 PM: an hour later than they told Karl they would be. When they got back, Big Frank was waiting for Ray by the bar with his huge arms folded across his enormous chest.
“Where the hell were you?” Frank asked.
“He was with me, Frank,” Alicia said, sidling up to the big lout and giving him a friendly hug. “Don’t worry, I authorized his break.”
Alicia’s smile and hug had the rare effect of wiping Frank’s frown off his face and replacing it with what passed for a smile.
“The only reason he’s not in trouble is because he was with you,” Frank said, grinning down at Alicia from his formidable height.
“Thanks, Frank, you’re a sweetheart,” Alicia said, winking at Frank and blowing him an air kiss.
Frank’s scowl returned as he turned to Ray, “I need you at the front doors checking IDs.”
“No problem, Frank.” Ray said. “I just have to get my jacket out of Alicia’s office.”
“Then hurry up.”
Burnside retrieved his jacket from the office and went to the front doors to check the IDs of the early arrivals. He still felt like he was on cloud nine from his wonderful shared experience with Alicia, but he was starting to come down now that reality was setting in. He still had to do Salducci’s job tonight. He didn’t see any other option.
Ray had carefully avoided telling Alicia any of the details of the upcoming job because he knew it would upset her. He also knew there was no getting out of it. If he refused to do the job, Salducci would have him killed. After he did the job, he would try to arrange a meeting with the Boss and find out what he had to do to retire from the organization without getting whacked. There was no way Alicia would accept his continued participation in violent crime. Now that he had her, there was no reason to stay in it. It made him sick that he had to kill a cop tonight, but he didn’t see any way out of it.
Burnside check
ed IDs at the front door until 9:30 when a young, muscular, dark-haired bouncer took over the post.
“Frank wants to see you upstairs right away,” the bouncer said.
“No problem,” Ray said, dreading what would come next.
Ray went upstairs and found Frank sitting at the bar with four tough-looking goons. They were drinking shots.
“Here, grab a shot before you go,” Frank said, handing Ray a shot of vodka on ice.
Burnside downed it in one gulp and asked the bartender for a Coca Cola to chase it.
As soon as he had the Coke in hand, the goons stood up from the bar.
“Time to go,” Frank said to Ray. “You’re going with Jimmy and Eddie.”
Jimmy and Eddie approached Burnside and looked him up and down. Jimmy was a tall, muscular, dark-skinned Italian with a shaved head and a goatee. Eddie was a shorter, stockier Italian with lighter skin and short black hair. Jimmy wore a black trench-coat while Eddie wore a black leather jacket. They each held thick black weapons briefcases - similar to the one Salducci gave Ray - by their sides.
“You ready?” Jimmy asked Ray.
“Sure, I just have to grab my briefcase and I’ll be all set.”
“Where is it?”
“It’s in the bartender’s office.”
“We’ll go with you.”
Jimmy and Eddie escorted Ray down to the bar like guards transferring a prisoner. Alicia’s eyes widened when she saw Ray approaching the bar accompanied by two formidable-looking Mob assassins.
“Hey, Babe, I need you to open your office for me,” Ray said, trying to remain calm as he felt his heart racing.
“No problem,” Alicia said, hesitating for a moment before going to the door. Her eyes were wide and her face was pale. She reached into her pocket, took out a key, and inserted it in the lock with a trembling hand. As she turned the key, she addressed the goon called Jimmy.
“Jimmy, I have to talk to Ray for a second about his bartending schedule before he goes.”
“Make it fast,” Jimmy said, scowling at her.
Ray followed Alicia into the office and she slammed the door shut. He went behind the desk and picked up the heavy black briefcase.
“Ray, you don’t have to do this,” Alicia said, blocking his way as he moved toward the door
“You’re wrong about that, Alicia. I do,” Ray said, steeling his resolve. “After I do this job, I’ll talk to Salducci about finding out what I have to do to retire.”
“What are they making you do?” Alicia asked, tears filling her eyes. She seized his muscular forearms with her small hands.
“Alicia, you can’t worry about it. Just know that this is my last job and then I’m out. I promise you.”
There was a heavy pounding on the door.
“Hurry the fuck up! We have to go!” Jimmy’s muffled voice exclaimed from the other side
“Be careful,” Alicia said, as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.
Ray kissed her back, wiped tears from her eyes, and forced a half-smile.
“Don’t worry, babe. It will be over before you know it,” Ray said, glancing back at her as he pulled the office door open.
Alicia turned away from him to wipe tears from her eyes and compose herself.
Jimmy and Eddie glowered at Ray like angry bulldogs as he exited the office.
“You can fuck around with your girlfriend on your own time,” Jimmy growled. “We have to get the fuck out of here now.”
Burnside thought it was best not to respond; it wouldn’t do him any good to hurt one of them. He remained silent and fell into step behind the goons as they walked quickly toward the front doors. Ray followed them to the parking garage where he was surprised to find a jet-black Lamborghini waiting for them.
“How do you like our getaway car, rookie?” Eddie asked, smirking at Ray.
“Fucking A,” Ray said, nodding.
“Get in the back,” Jimmy ordered.
“I have to grab something out of my car first,” Burnside said, pointing to the Camry parked on the other side of the garage.
“We don’t have time to fuck around. Get in the car,” Jimmy ordered.
Burnside was losing patience with this guy.
“Look, asshole, I’m not going anywhere without my back-up piece,” Ray growled at Jimmy. Ray’s eyes blazed as he tensed up his formidable muscles. He assumed an aggressive stance as if he was about to pounce on Jimmy like a Bengal Tiger.
Jimmy’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as if he couldn’t believe what he had heard. He appeared to be too stunned to formulate a coherent response. Burnside turned away from him and took long strides toward the Camry. He sped up to a jog and reached the car in seconds. Retrieving his spare piece and clips from under the passenger seat, he tucked the pistol into the back of his pants and placed the clips in his front pockets. Jogging back to the Lamborghini, he met Jimmy’s furious stare. He imagined wrapping his hands around Jimmy’s neck and squeezing until his face turned purple. Jimmy couldn’t hold his gaze and looked away.
Burnside’s patience was gone. He didn’t want to do the job in the first place and if Jimmy fucked with him one more time, he would kill him instead. Jimmy finally utilized what little intelligence he had to remain silent as he watched Burnside get in the back of the vehicle.
Ray squeezed his large frame into the back seat and the two goons sat in front. His body took up the entire back seat because there wasn’t enough room for his legs otherwise. He placed the briefcase on his lap. Jimmy turned the key and fired up the Lamborghini’s powerful engine, which sounded like metallic thunder.
“The others will meet us at the target location,” Jimmy said, flatly.
Jimmy backed out of the space and headed down the ramp. Burnside was surprised that Jimmy drove the vehicle conservatively, but it only lasted until they reached the parking garage entrance. When Jimmy saw the road was clear, he punched it. The tires shrieked as the Lamborghini took off like a sleek black rocket.
Ray was impressed at how well Jimmy drove the sports car. Obviously, he had practiced a lot. The ride was fast, but smooth. When they reached the highway, Jimmy made a lightning-fast acceleration and then kept to ten miles an hour over the speed limit. Ray knew it wouldn’t work if a cop stopped them on their way to the hit. Salducci had informed him that the timing had to be precise. The cop got out of work at 23:00 and was expected to arrive home at 23:40. Ray checked his watch and saw it was only 22:30, which gave them plenty of time to prepare.
Burnside undid the latches on his briefcase and opened it up. His eyes widened when he saw what was contained inside; a Steyr Tactical Machine Pistol. He knew about these weapons from when he was a cop. The Steyr TMP was a 9mm blowback-operated, rotating-barrel weapon that could fire 800 rounds per minute. This particular one included a detachable stock, a silencer, and four spare ammunition clips.
TMP’s were not very accurate because of their high rate of fire, but the stock helped to alleviate this problem. Ray had never shot one before, but he knew it was a better weapon than the Tech 9 machine pistol that he had used so effectively during his battle with the Columbians. The TMP used pistol ammunition, so it would not be effective against anyone wearing body armor. If the target wore a bulletproof vest, which seemed likely given his current state of paranoia, Ray would have to score a head shot. However, the TMP’s high rate of fire could easily knock a target to the ground if struck in the vest, which would then provide an opportunity for a headshot.
Burnside tried to keep his mind on business and tried not to think about the identity of the target. As long as he focused on the technical aspects of the mission and avoided the moral implications, he would be all right.
Twenty minutes later, they pulled off an exit ramp in New Jersey and drove through a large downtown area. Another ten minutes brought them to a modest suburban section of town. The Lieutenant must have been doing well because the houses and lawns got significantly larger when they reached his neighborho
od. Jimmy slowed down as they reached the street and approached the house: a large colonial with a wide front lawn.
“That’s it,” Jimmy said as they cruised past the house.
Ray saw a single light on in one of the upstairs rooms. The rest of the house was dark.
Jimmy drove the Lamborghini past a wide swathe of woods until they reached another lawn with a large colonial beyond it. There was a For Sale Sign on the lawn near the road. Jimmy pulled into the driveway.
“It’s a foreclosure,” Jimmy said, as he ascended the long, upwardly sloping driveway toward the two-car garage. “No one will bother us.”
Jimmy parked and turned off the engine. Ray noticed that he left the keys in the ignition.
“Let’s go,” Jimmy said, exiting the car.
Burnside and the other goon followed his example.
“Get your shit ready,” Jimmy said, placing his weapon briefcase on the driver’s seat and opening it.
Glancing right, Ray saw a thick patch of woods separating the foreclosed property from the cop’s house. Glancing backwards, he saw a thick, wooded area across the street, but no houses. More woods loomed on the other side of the lawn. It was an ideal location to stage an assault: very remote with no neighbors.
Burnside placed his briefcase on the grass next to the driveway and undid the latches. He took out the Steyr TMP, extended the shoulder stock, and screwed on the silencer. Grabbing the spare clips, he shoved them in his front and rear pockets. He closed the briefcase and placed it on the back seat of the sports car. Ray practiced taking aim at the woods separating the two houses. Looking down the sights, he aimed at the tallest tree he could find. The shoulder stock would help with the weapon’s kickback.
Burnside spotted the glare of approaching headlights in his peripheral vision. He turned his weapon toward the street.
“We have company,” he said, crouching low and preparing to sprint toward the woods.
“Relax, rookie,” Jimmy said, checking the clip on his own TMP. “They’re our guys.”
Burnside saw the sleek curves of a black sports car behind the headlights as they approached the driveway.
American Criminal Page 36
