SOMEWHERE IN THE ALASKA OUTBACK
Who the frig lives in these places anyway? Damn mosquitoes as big as my head. One, two, where’s the other one. Oh, there you are. The first dart with less than a pinprick drop of the poison sang through the air and into the neck of the first guard. I left guard number two for my partner, and as soon as he came to have a look-see at the sound of his friend hitting the ground, he too went down. Come on, don’t be a spoilsport number three.
Dammit, head out the window. The dart missed its mark in the neck, but the shoulder was good enough. The paralysis should last for a few hours, which would give us enough time to get in and get out. I made my way towards the little cabin one way while my shadow went the other, keeping low to the ground and staying to the shadows.
My target looked up from the place where he’d been chained in the back room. “Who are you?” He asked in Sicilian; I answered in the little bit of Italian I knew. “Hello Alonzo, you’re going home.”
“Who sent you. Did my father?” I used the last dart on him, which had just a fraction more of the poison added.
“Guess again!”
It took everything in me not to end him right here, but a deal’s a deal. “Come on; I’m not carrying him by myself.”
“Who says we’re carrying him? Drag his ass outta here.” Good enough!
We dragged his dead weight through the cabin and out the door, through the tall grass to the landing where the plane waited. Shit, this flight is going to be long as balls, and we still have a long day ahead of us after that. “You sure you can fly this thing for so many hours? You haven’t done it in a while.”
“Stop bitching and strap him in. You sure he’s gonna make it? He looks kinda dead.”
“She said that was supposed to happen. Stop worrying about it, and let’s go.” As soon as we were on board, I sent the word that the prey was in hand.
I closed my eyes to get some shut-eye after making sure the captive was secured. His glassy eyes stared back at me as his jaw hung slack. At least he was still alive; I was sure that poison shit would kill them all.
GABRIEL
“Nannu, how are you? Are you enjoying your holiday?”
“Yes, niputi, it was a very nice suggestion. How did you know that this old man needed a rest? Your uncle has never taken me anywhere before, but you just said the word, and here we are.”
“Are you enjoying ancient Babylon?”
“It’s dusty, and there’s nothing, but it’s peaceful, eh."
"And how are my great-grandbabies?”
“You’ll see them soon.”
“I cannot wait. And Natalia, Jr.? They’re, okay?”
“Yes, didn’t you speak to Jr. today?”
“I did, I did, but I still worry. Ah, this life. You never know, yes. But where is Natalia?”
“My mother and sisters took her on a little shopping trip.”
“Ah, I see, so they’re getting along.”
“Yes, very well. I just wanted to check-in, make sure you’re having a good time.” And to make sure you didn’t take any surprise trips back home. I hope Lyon knows what he's doing.
I stayed on the phone a bit longer with the old man who’d lost more than half his family in the last couple of weeks before hanging up. It was because I didn’t want him to lose anything more that I’d gone to all the trouble I had the last couple of days.
PALERMO SICILY
“Why have you brought me here?” Alonzo looked around at his home, wondering what game the two who had brought him here were playing. He walked through the house cautiously on his weak legs, not knowing what to expect. It felt so empty, with no sign of life. But there was a faint sound coming from the direction of the ballroom where all the parties are held.
He'd lived in terror the whole way here, not able to move or make a sound as whatever drug they’d injected him with held him hostage. His limbs had been stiff for hours after it wore off, and they’d tossed him around like baggage, him, Alonzo Ricci. He’d felt a sense of relief upon recognizing his home country when they took him off the plane. As long as he was here, there was hope that the nightmare would be soon over.
Now he made his way slowly towards the sounds of music while looking over his shoulder with each step. His mind was still groggy; his thoughts sometimes fractured as they vacillated between one memory and the next. He’d expected to be dead by now. It had to be going on twenty-four hours since he’d been taken from that hellhole where he’d been held captive. They’d kept him barely above starving, and he’d lost count of how many days he’d been there.