by N. C. Reed
The room number given him for Roberto wasn't visible which mean it was likely on the back side, a stroke of genuine luck. Another piece of good fortune was that the doors were all outside rather than inside. Sean didn't have to actually enter the hotel to locate and kill his target.
His target. He sighed at how easy it was to slip back into that mindset. Shrugging his shoulders forward, he lowered is head and stepped out into the street, crossing the road lazily, almost as if he were drunk. He semi-staggered into the parking lot and around to the rear of the inn, looking for cameras. There were none, at least here on the hotel itself. He kept his face hidden as he walked down the row of doors, coming finally to the one he was seeking.
He made sure no one was nearby and raised his hands to knock. He was going to say he was a delivery and hope that Roberto would open the door. Before his hand could fall he heard a loud crash from inside and held his hand.
Had someone gotten there before him? He waited, expecting more but hearing nothing. On a hunch, he raised his hand and rapped on the door with authority.
“Management!” he called through the door.
“What?” Roberto's voice came back, and Sean smiled.
-
“Management!” the word followed the harsh knock as Roberto jumped.
“What?” Management? What the hell did they. . .he glanced at the broken lamp and mirror and sighed.
“Management!” the voice repeated, harsher this time. “Open up!”
“All right,” Roberto called, getting to his feet. This was why he found himself in difficulties, he decided. Always acting without thinking. He flung the door open, prepared to bribe his way out of trouble.
-
Sean stuck his arm through the door as soon as it opened and shoved. Roberto went stumbling backwards to hit the corner of the bed, resulting in his falling to the floor. He struggled to get upright but by the time he did Sean Galen was fully in the room, knife in hand.
From a world filled with guns, poison and explosives, Roberto looked at that terribly wicked knife and felt his bladder release. He had faced threats of other kinds before and done all right, but nothing like thi-
Sean's knife hilt struck him on the bridge of the nose, stunning him though leaving him conscious. Sean let him hit the floor while he secured the door. Once done, he hefted Roberto up onto the bed, and then into the chair next to it, where four cable ties later Roberto was secured. As the target began to regain his senses, Sean took a washrag from the bathroom and stuffed into his mouth, silencing him just as he was about to scream.
“Surprised to see me, no?” Sean smiled, and it was not a pretty smile. “You and me, we have a lot to talk about, efvea.” Roberto tried to scream but all that came out was a muffled 'mphh'.
“I found your sister,” Sean told him, anger lacing his voice. “Betrayed by you into the hands of those who would have raped and tortured her. Kept in the dark, isolated and alone, in pain, bleeding, waiting for her death, all because of you, son of Coyote.”
Roberto's face paled at that expression. Unlike Antonio, Roberto knew where his mother came from.
“I should make you experience the same things your sister faced, diishaa,” Sean told him flatly. “Yet to do so would take time I do not have. Nor do you,” he said simply, pulling a handgun from behind him, suppressor already attached.
“I took this from the dead body of one of the people who were about to harm your sister,” he explained. “I'm going to kill you with it, dog. I'm going to leave it here for the police to find, linking it to the murders in the mall if I am not bad wrong, and I'm not.” He took a pillow from the bed and wrapped it around the gun.
“I'm sure the police will wonder why you're here, instead of at home where you belong,” Sean informed him. “I don't know what your mother will tell them, but I'm sure she has it all figured out by now. Oh, in case you were wondering? It was her who asked me to kill you, kikraha. To restore her honor to her.”
That might have been what broke him, though Sean didn't know or care. Roberto began sobbing behind his gag, struggling to get out of his bonds.
“Yes, your actions have shamed your mother and her ancestors,” Sean told him flatly. “A woman of the Blood, like your mother, cannot allow that to go, Roberto. Had you been a better son, you would have known that. Of course, had you been a better son you would not have needed to ever learn it, would you?” he raised the gun and pillow.
“Say hello to the Falcone boys when you see them in hell,” he said simply and pulled the trigger three times. Roberto's body jerked with the impacts as rounds struck his lung, heart, and finally his brain.
“'pen'd'hoa,” Sean snarled as he tossed the pillow and the gun aside, removing the gloves he had worn to preserve any fingerprints the Falcone's might have left on the weapon. They didn't strike him as the smartest people so there might be something.
Sean removed a ring that looked like a family heirloom and slipped it into his pocket, then pinned a note to Roberto's body that closely resembled the one Tony had left on Freddy Parmano in the factory.
“Nice and tidy,” Sean murmured to himself as he took one last look around. Seeing a small bag on the bed he opened it and rifled through the contents, finding a small leather book. Opening it he saw page after page of numbers, some in money and others in some kind of code. He took that as well, continuing through the bag. Nothing else stuck out at him, nothing that would embarrass the family, so he pocketed his plunder and made his way to the door. Pressing the 'do not disturb' and 'maid service not needed' buttons on the control panel to the door, he activated the auto lock, stepped outside as if he were the renter and closed the door behind him.
His head bowed as if against an imaginary wind, Sean made his way back toward town, careful to avoid crowds where police or cameras might be. He found a store not far from where the woman had let him out, stepped inside and spent some time there, made a small purchase, then called a cab to make the trip back to the estate.
It was just after midnight when Sean arrived at the guest room he had been given, led there by Marisa herself who had been waiting for security to call and ask if he were allowed inside.
“You have everything you need?” she asked him.
“Yes,” he smiled at her. “I just wanted to get something that reminded me of home,” he held up the package, pulling a small bottle from inside. “Long day and all,” he added with a shrug.
“Yes, it was,” she nodded, a telling look on her face that he chose to ignore. “If you need anything, just ring.”
“Thank you.”
Once inside, Sean showered again and found his old clothes, now freshly laundered, along with another shirt he had been 'loaned', lying on the bed. Funny, the shirt felt new and was exactly the right size, but he supposed when you had money you could do things like that. He placed the clothing he had worn to Roberto's into a small bag which he sealed for the incinerator after pouring a good amount of the whiskey he had bought in town on it. Next he took a small amount of the whiskey and swished it around in his mouth, poured most of the rest down the drain with hot water chasing it, and then lay the bottle on the side table, still open, so that a small amount could leak out onto the night stand. He made sure to lay a towel beneath it to protect the furniture and a coaster beneath that to catch the leak through if there was any.
All that done, he stretched out onto the bed, gun beneath the pillow and knife under his leg. He was asleep in no more than a minute.
-
“He has returned,” Marisa said softly into the telecom.
“Thank you,” the voice at the other end said simply before breaking the call.
Marisa sighed quietly, leaning her head against the wall for a few seconds. She was more tired than she had been in a very long time. She needed rest as well. Perhaps now there would be peace in this house. At least for a time.
-
Anthony Delgado sat on the veranda of his private bedroom, glass in hand as he peered o
ut over the rear yard of the estate. Wilhelm had stressed that the front was still not safe but that the back, with several acres of sensor covered area between the house and anything approaching civilization was completely secure. Fortunately, his bedroom was in the rear of the house on the third floor.
He snorted as he took a drink from the glass in his hand. The others on the Celia would probably wonder why in the hell he was bothering with working for them when he had all this waiting for him. And it literally was now.
With Roberto gone, Tony was the obvious choice to assume his father's role when the time came. Yet he didn't really want it. The wonderful thing about being 'Tony Giannini' instead of himself was that no one expected anything of Tony. No one cared what Tony did, where he went. But Antonio Delgado?
Antonio Delgado they watched. Everyone watched. He might want or need something. He might mention something that he'd like to see done. He might say that he liked, or disliked, someone around him.
Shaking his head, Tony ditched the empty glass in favor of the bottle, taking a drink directly from it. He hadn't gotten shit-faced, commode hanging drunk in a long time. If ever there was a day for it, this was it. His secret life in tatters, his sister kidnapped and her retinue dead, his brother responsible for it and now either dead or soon to be. Hell of a day.
His best friend probably killing his older brother even as Tony sat there, drinking. His sister clearly enamored with said best friend. Said best friend being a notorious and feared assassin was fine until Lucia started hugging him and shit, but now? No, now it wasn't okay at all. His baby sister didn't need that kind of hassle in her life! Hanging on the arm of the man who had killed one of their brothers!
Of course, their own mother had sent him to do it Tony reminded himself. And Sean had killed one of the Falcones, too, helping Tony find his sister. Had also helped him kidnap two people. Said best friend really was a good friend, he admitted. And it wasn't that he didn't trust Sean, because he absolutely did. Completely. With his life, in fact.
It was just that he saw Lucia as a delicate flower that needed protection. If today hadn't proven that then nothing would. She would be a long time stepping foot outside the mansion or off the grounds again, he was pretty sure. PTSD would hit her in a few weeks, just about the time she was getting back to normal, most likely. She would jump at slight sounds, want the lights left on, refuse to be alone anywhere in the house.
He sighed, taking another swig from the bottle. He gave a start and looked at the label.
“This shit is pretty good,” he mused aloud.
Then there was the prospect of Lucia learning that Roberto had been involved in her kidnapping and the death of Elena. On the one hand, it might free her of the guilt she felt in having brought them to the mall this morning. No matter where she had gone or what she had done, Roberto would have set her up for this. The only thing that her being at the mall had done was enable him to know where she would be and when.
Everyone knew about her rivalry with a few other women her age over fashion. It was something that young women did and it was harmless, especially for families with the kind of money the Delgado's and the others controlled. You had to spend it on something after all.
Roberto had known that the new collections would bring his sister to the Gavanza that morning, as it always did. He'd set things up so that no matter when it happened, he was ready. Had probably played a part in Freddy Parmano getting that job to set things up, even. He took another hit of the bottle as that thought hit him.
“Damn that's good,” he said aloud as he swallowed another smooth mouthful of brandy.
What a fucked up life I lead, Tony mused. My father's a mob boss. My mother might as well be. My sister is an airhead. My oldest brother is a snake. My best friend is the most wanted assassin in the Commonwealth. My other brother is a genius at math and an idiot in everything else.
“And I'm a cook on a tramp freighter who flunked out of med school,” he finished aloud, taking another deep draught from the bottle.
“This is pretty good stuff. I wonder what it cost?” he looked once more at the now nearly empty bottle. “Damn, it's almost gone, too,” he sighed. “Well, no sense bein' wasteful!” he tipped the bottle up, his head thrown back to receive the nectar within, and just kept on tipping until he was laying on the floor and out cold, bottle still gripped tightly in his hand.
The label on the now drained bottle declared it to be the container of a finely decanted four-hundred-year-old cognac.
Definitely 'pretty good stuff'.
-
While Tony was lamenting the loss of innocence his delicate flower of a sister had suffered, said 'flower' was sneaking down the hallway of the guest wing on the second floor of the Delgado home. She had managed to leave her room using an old crawl space that was used for servicing dumbwaiters, a trick she had developed as a child to allow her to roam the house after hours.
She wasn't roaming tonight, however. She knew exactly where she was going.
-
Sean was instantly awake when he heard the lock on his guestroom door turn. He didn't move or otherwise react, but his hand tightened on the pistol beneath his pillow while his other hand went to the hilt of his knife, wedged between the mattress and springs of his bed.
This could be anyone. Someone on the staff who had supported Roberto, someone on the security team who resented him being in the house. It could even be someone sent by the old man to tidy up what some in his position might consider a loose end. He didn't want to believe that latter part, but the man's wife had asked him, Sean, to kill her own son. Anything was possible here.
The door made no sound as it opened, a sliver of light from the hallway falling on the bed. His eyes cracked just enough to see a form in the doorway but he couldn't make out who it might be. The door closed with a 'click', and he heard the door lock engaged again.
As soon as he heard that, Sean sat straight up in bed, pistol pointed at his uninvited guest.
-
Lucia turned to see a shadow moving behind her and scrambled to find the light controls on the wall. This hadn't been part of her plan. She hit the switch, illuminating the room to see Sean Galen pointing a gun right at her head.
“Hey!” she managed not to scream as she put her hands up to show they were empty. “It's just me!”
“What in the fires of hell are you doing here?” Sean demanded, lowering the hammer of the pistol and laying it aside. “You should be resting or something, shouldn't you? And don't you know how dangerous it is to be sneaking around, breaking into people's bedrooms in the middle of the night?”
“I can't rest,” she told him, shrugging. “I can't sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see it all over again. And I wasn't sneaking, I was using discretion,” she corrected him primly. “And I didn't break in, either,” she held up a key. “I used this!”
“Well, that makes it all better, don't it?” Sean growled. He was tired and not in the mood for foolishness.
“Where did you go?” she asked him plainly, still standing just inside the door.
“Out,” he told her.
“Yeah, I got that much,” she shot back. “But where?” she demanded.
“I can't see how that concerns you little girl,” Sean told her.
“I'm not a little girl!” Lucia shot back, hands on her hips and anger on her face. “I'm almost twenty years old I'll have you know!”
“Oh, well,” Sean snorted, leaning back against the wall. He was glad he had his tee shirt on. Being in an unfamiliar place, he had chosen to wear pants and his tee shirt while lying on the bed. “If you're almost twenty, that makes all the difference.”
“I'm glad you see it that way,” Lucia smiled, missing Sean's sarcasm altogether. Or maybe just ignoring it, he wasn't sure. She took the few steps separating them and stopped right beside his bed, looking at him.
“What?” he asked her.
“I want to stay with you,” she said plainly.
“
That is not a good plan,” he shook his head at once, rising off the wall and sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed to sit with his feet on the floor. “You got no business being in here at all.”
“I'm afraid,” she told him, her bluster gone. “I'm afraid and it doesn't matter how many people are on the grounds or standing outside my window or my door, I'm still afraid. And I'm exhausted. I need to sleep but I can't no matter how hard I try. And before you say it, I won't take any drugs. They drugged me when they took me. I'm not going to be drugged again.” Her bottom lip trembled ever so slightly, but she seemed to be fighting it rather than using it.
“Go sleep with your parents,” Sean told her. “Or bunk with Tony, for that matter.”
“I'm not sleeping with my parents!” she shot back, temper flaring. “And ew, I'm not about to share a bed with my brother!”
“But you will with me, is that it?” Sean demanded. What in the hell had he done to deserve this?
“Well,” she bit her lower lip and looked away, face turning red. “I. . .I mean I don't want. . .that is I'm not here for, you know. . .that,” she settled for saying, her face almost glowing. “I mean it's not that you aren't really good loo-I didn't just say that,” she put her hands over her face.
“Thanks, I think,” Sean chuckled. “Why are you here?”
“You make me feel safe,” she told him, peeking at him from between her fingers. “I need to feel safe, just for a bit. Just so I can sleep.” She allowed her hands to fall so he could see her face, a pleading expression on it now.
“Please?”
It wasn't really an unreasonable request Sean admitted to himself. She felt vulnerable, and he had been the one to find her and cut her loose. In her mind that made him 'safe'. It made him her safety net. He could understand that and even sympathize with it, up to a point.
But there were so many things wrong with Lucia Delgado being in his bedroom that he didn't know where to start. Might as well start with the fact that the man he considered his best friend was her brother and was already a bit testy where this was concerned. Then there was her father, who was apparently the mob boss on this entire planet, not to mention a large chunk of the settled galaxy.
