“And he wants us to send a dozen?” His tone is incredulous, but I had the same exact reaction and I give him a look that says as much.
Turning my attention to Daniel, I take in his dark eyes and the rough stubble that’s overgrown on his jaw. He’s still in the same shirt he was wearing yesterday too.
“Did you sleep?” I ask him, and he shakes his head no, but he moves the conversation back to business matters. Back to busying himself and ending the bullshit that keeps him from having Addison back.
“Jett went down late last night to Carlisle. He said this morning that he counted at least twenty-two Talvery soldiers that come and go down the block.”
“That’s right inside the northern border between the two of us, not between Romano and him.”
“Right,” he answers me, but I didn’t need him to say a damn thing, I just needed a moment to think.
“Are the rest of the areas high density like that?”
“High density?” he echoes, not understanding. He hasn’t been back long and he’s still catching up.
“Instead of spreading his men out, he’s keeping them heavy and clustered in one area? Or is this the only street like that?” Crossing my right ankle over my left knee, I lean back in the chair and pick up a pen to tap it against the desk as I think.
“It’s like that three blocks from the divide between Romano and Talvery on the upper east side. Bedford, I think it is.”
“Where are the rest of them?” I ask him. “I want a count and whereabouts of his men at all times.”
“We need more eyes out if we want that intel. Jett can’t move if he wants to pick them off.”
“Then get them.”
“Most of our men are surrounding the safe house…” For the first time since beginning this conversation, he lowers his voice to confess, “I don’t want to move them.”
“So, we need to take on an army with only a handful of men.”
“Skilled men hired for this express purpose. Men who have been waiting for this for how long?” Daniel reminds me. Most of the men we picked up came with us for a reason. Hate is a better motivator than fear is and Talvery’s made more enemies in his decades of reign than I’d like to give him credit for. As he grew older, he grew harder.
I wasn’t the first boy he nearly beat to death for dealing in his territory. The others had families though, families who knew exactly who was responsible. Families who came to me, knowing we shared a common enemy.
I glance at the monitor, at my songbird who’s staring at nothing and consumed by her helplessness. For a split second, I wonder if she knows everything her father did. But I already know she doesn’t.
Daniel continues the conversation, hellbent on coming up with a plan. “Jett thinks we could use eight men total, two on each corner of that street and the other four on the other side to clean up that area.”
“Eight men, to take on their twenty?” My voice is flat, my gaze pinned to his, but all I can see is how this will go down. How we can take out each of them.
“Romano’s supposed to be sending down four in the next two days to go in, since he wants clean kills to avoid the news and having to pay off more cops. But I think we should hit them tomorrow night with the automatic assault rifles we just got from the docks.”
I nod my head in agreement. Clean kills take more time, time that they’ll use to react. “Why wait until tomorrow?” I ask him.
“It’s Sunday,” Daniel reminds me. A huff leaves me, somewhat sarcastic, somewhat pathetic. There are rules in this industry if you can call it that. No women, no children. Give peace at funerals. And leave Sundays for families. They’re signs of respect and boundaries. The only reason they’re kept is that sometimes enemies become allies and it’s easily justified by saying that the enemy always gave respect.
I know only one man who defied the laws and my little songbird stabbed that fucker to death. Not a soul defended him. And who would when his death was justified for breaking a sacred rule?
Well, that man… and then myself. I took Aria from Talvery.
“Tomorrow night then.” Daniel’s eyes shine brighter with the challenge of pulling this off.
“Jett can stay where he is and take out any of Talvery’s men that survive the hit. We need the police to stay back for at least eight hours. Instead of going in to see who’s still breathing, we let the men try to come out to read the situation, and Jett will pick them off.”
“They’ll be easy to pay off. I know Officer Harold will hold them back for a grand a minute.”