Matteo has his AK-47 poised if I need it at the door, but I have my man wrestled to the ground with his arm twisted behind his back as he kneels at my feet.
“I’m going to—” he yells, but I cold cock him between the eyes and it’s lights out for him.
Sal has a rag shoved in the other man’s mouth as he’s now face down on the cement floor.
I feel the dampness in the air, and my hand hurts from breaking the guy’s face, but it felt good at the same time.
I toss Sal some zip ties and we finally have a second to look at the prisoner.
“Angelo.” I’m in shock as I take the gag out of his mouth and cut his zip ties. He owes me for this. “What the fuck?”
“Your fucking brothers are going to die like the rats they are!” I can tell he’s been roughed up as one side of his face is messed up with bruises and dried blood from his broken nose.
I cut the ties that keep his ankles to the chair.
“Angelo Calabrese?” Sal asks.
“Who are you? Oh, wait, you are part of that fucking family from Tuscany. Forgive me, I’m a bit foggy.”
I offer him some water from the table nearby.
“What are you doing here?”
“Not my first choice of places to be, untie my hands,” he demands.
“First things first, how did you wind up here?” I ask.
“Your brothers had their own agenda. They ran a side deal with the Colombians for coke when I have a supplier from Mexico. They undercut me, stealing my drugs and sealing my date with death. They hung me out to dry. Everyone will be looking for me.”
“I find that hard to believe. You’ve been in charge of many of Contis' businesses, so surely, you know the business inside and out as the underboss.” I put my hand on my hip, debating whether he’s that stupid or he’s been duped.
“Before they overpowered my men at the old warehouse by the port, they made me call a big meeting and locked everyone in. They took me prisoner and brought me here. I’ve been here for two days waiting for his fucking ship to come in. They’re going to kill me.” He gasps and turns to me. “They’re going to kill me as soon as the ship arrives.”
But his story is plausible.
“You don’t see my men anywhere, do you? We can’t stay here. Someone comes every two hours to relieve these baboons,” he says, looking around in a panic.
“Are the girls kept underground at dock five?” I ask.
“Yeah, and no one is guarding them. They’re going to unload the coke and put them on the ship with barrels of olive oil and send them up the coast. When the ship gets to Trieste, they’ll be handed over to a middleman who will take them the rest of the way to Germany.”
“And what about the coke coming in?” Sal asks.
“The Albanians are waiting for it. We’re just the middlemen on that. I didn’t want to get in bed with them, but Mario insisted it was a good move.”
“Albanians, you say?” Sal pipes up as he puts his gun back in its holster suddenly very interested.
“Yes, Albanians. Francesca, your brothers are into a lot of shit, and they want me to be the fall guy if anything goes awry.” I can tell by his rapid breathing that he’s anxious to get out of here, and when he tries to stand up, he all but falls on Sal before we catch him.
“Looks like it already has,” Sal’s chuckle slips out.
“We need to move.” Matteo runs down the steps. “Compare notes later, let’s haul ass,” he orders and leads the way up the stairs just as two goons are coming down. As if on cue, it thunders, and Sal shoots them both with his .45 because it has a silencer on it.
Besides, the AK-47 would be overkill on just two people.
The men Sal shot fall backward as blood stains the rock walls, and he double taps them in the head as we move by, just to be sure we won’t be seeing them again.
He puts another magazine in his gun as Matteo is our lead now as I help Angelo walk down the road. He’s weak from being beaten and his body is stiff.