“Ahh,” is all the man can get out.
“You useless piece of shit,” she mumbles, stabbing him through his boat shoes and the meat of his foot.
God, she’s amazing to watch. I’m so happy she’s not pissed at me.
“Boat,” he manages to get out as she slits his throat. The alley falls silent.
We check our surroundings again and approach the door.
I turn the handle, it’s open. I look at Francesca and she nods. She’s got me covered. Sal is armed behind her and Micro is in the rear.
We enter, I scope out the top part of the building that is mostly old rafters with a walkway, it’s dimly lit. The sound of a man speaking draws our attention to the back room.
He hangs up the phone.
“Who are you?”
Just our luck an asshole walks out of the bathroom.
Francesca doesn’t even look at him and raises her right fist, breaking his nose, then she turns to face him.
His hands are on his nose as he tries to scream, she stuffs a rag from the floor in his mouth to buy a few seconds. Sal hands her a wire and she strangles him like she is slicing bread.
We arrive at the doorway and find Federico in the stuffy office sitting at his chair, drinking amber liquor in an old swivel chair that squeaks.
“That’s great. Wow, what a fire that is, that will piss Giovi off.”
I raise my finger for everyone to be quiet and still, our guns raised.
“I don’t know. Just hold her, Marco, no one is going to be by the fishing boats, and she has a bathroom. Is it asking too much for what I paid you? Don’t make me regret having you move up rank.” His phone beeps when he hangs up.
Francesca puts two fingers up, she’s going first. She looks kinda kick ass in the jacket, ball cap and boots to her ankles that are more military looking than anything. She’s no little woman either, she’s built.
I nod.
We both enter the room, one on each side of Gambino.
“What the fuck do you want?” The big man sits, but I know he must have a gun under his desk.
“Carefully move your chair away from the desk, nothing too quick,” I say.
“Ay, you have the wrong guy. I don’t know what you want, but I have men coming and you’re going to be fucked.”
He’s not moving.
Francesca nods to me, we had discussed my background on the flight down and decided to take the lead roles of shooting assholes. It seems it brings us both pleasure.
I have him covered in his chair as Francesca moves around to knock his chair backwards. He kicks his legs up to try to kick the gun out of her hand but she’s too quick. She tips the chair with great force as he’s a big man, and he goes over face first into the concrete floor.
He moans like he hurts. As if we care.
I hold a gun on him, and Sal moves into ziptie him and gets him into a sitting position on the floor.
“Please put him in the chair, sweetie,” she says to Sal.
Sal makes him stand although as stupid as the Sicilian is, I’m sure he knows what’s coming.
“Normally, I’d let Valentina’s fiancé knock you off, but I’ll let him have Marco.” She hostlers her gun and pulls out that large sandwich bag she had earlier. The one in her backpack. She wraps it around his head and tightens it as he kicks and flails around as Sal, Micro and I hold his extremities.