“I thought you’d want them to follow him.”
“I’ll do that part myself,” I say. “It’s time I deal with Drago Lombardi face to face.”
“But—” Phoenix breaks off as realization dawns on his face. He looks a lot like his mother Esme when his features are relaxed. It’s only when he’s got violence on his mind that he starts to look like his father.
“You planted a tracker on the van,” he realizes.
I smile. “Very good.”
“So you know where he’s hiding.”
“As soon as he gets to his little cave, I’ll know where to go, yes.”
Then I press down on the red wire using the wire cutters. It snaps in half. A small spark goes up along the corners of the gate.
And just like that, the whole contraption turns into nothing more than a jumble of junk metal.
Better luck next time, Drago.
“There,” I say, turning to Phoenix. “Now the gate’s safe to open. You can head on inside and run clean-up.”
“Where are you going?”
I raise my phone and pull up the app that’s currently tracking Lombardi’s path towards Long Island.
“To deal with the motherfucker who just tried to kill me.”
I turn back towards the car. I’m halfway into the driver’s seat when Phoenix calls out after me.
“Kian?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s been twenty years,” he says. “Why haven’t you killed this guy before now?”
I think about my answer for a long moment. The night around me is quiet and still. Not for long, though. Soon, it’ll be filled with the screams of Drago Lombardi.
“He’s been a minor thorn in my side for a long time now,” I say carefully. “And I understood the reasons why. But every man has a limit. I’ve just reached mine.”
He looks across the concrete expanse at me. A solemn grimace spreads across his face as he processes what I’ve said.
Then he smiles. “So… this would be a mind game then?”
I grin back. “You’re a quick learner.”
* * *
The drive to Long Island is quiet and smooth. I set my phone on the dash and follow the path of Lombardi’s blinking red dot. It stops in a little neighborhood deep in residential territory.
I’m surprised that’s where he’s holing up, actually. More down-to-earth than I would’ve expected. Especially since, from everything I know of Lombardi, he’s a high flier. Or at least, he tries to be. Which can only mean one thing: his resources aren’t as plentiful as he would have me believe.
I hone in closer. Soon, I’m a block away, at the foot of a modest little road sloping upwards. Nondescript houses dot the lots on either side of me. All the lights are off.
Except for one.
The white van is parked outside the fifth house on the right. I see a few illuminated windows in the home. No sign of movement, though.
Right on cue, I get a call from Phoenix. I park at the very bottom of the road and answer.