“Yes,” I say shortly.
Sammy darts a glance at me, but I ignore it.
“Carlo rides with me. Sammy, you drive Pauly and Bobby. Park away from the building. Wait for mygo.”
“You got it, Boss,” Pauly says.
Considering he’s old enough to be my dad and has been in the organization longer than I have, I’m gratified by his respect.
Bobby and Carlo bow their heads. Sammy looks away.
Fucker.
When Carlo gets in my car, he says, “Why is Sammy here? I don’t trust thatstronzo.”
“He’s here to die.”
Carlo goes silent. Then he slowly nods, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Please let me do it.”
“No.” I don’t take my eyes off the road. “He’s mine.”
“Of course. You’re the boss,” Carlo says.
I drive to Hell’s Kitchen and find a parking spot. Then we sit and wait. At 1:15 a.m., I give the go-ahead. “You go first,” I tell Carlo. “Take out the security cameras in front of the drug store and the pawn shop. Then I need you to get the three in the restaurant–one in each of the far corners, one on the entry wall.”
Carlo’s upper lip curls as he screws a silencer on the muzzle of his gun. I know he’d rather be shooting heads than cameras, but he nods. “Done.”
I put on my sunglasses and a baseball cap and Carlo does the same.
Sammy, Bobby, and Pauly meet us at the corner. We wait until Carlo’s taken care of the two street cameras then the five of us head to the back alley.
“What are we doing?” Sammy asks.
I just shake my head and hold up a finger.
The minutes crawl by. Five. Then ten. Finally, the back door opens and a guy comes out carrying a large trash bag.
Carlo catches the door before it swings closed as I bring the butt of my gun down on the back of the guy’s head, dropping him to the floor.
“In,” I say when Sammy opens his mouth to speak.
He shuts it, and we file in, Sammy wedged between us.
There are six guys sitting in the restaurant–four at one table, two in a booth.
“Now.” I raise my gun and enter, firing as I walk, but keeping Sammy in front of me, where I can watch him.
Carlo takes out the cameras. Pauly, Bobby, Sammy, and I take care of the men. Yeah, Sammy shoots to kill. But I’m not surprised. He knows the Matranga’s are going down one way or another, so better he show his supposed loyalty while it happens.
I walk over to Stan Matranga, who’d drawn his pistol and still holds it in his hand. I stoop and close my fingers around his to pick up the gun, then lift it and shoot Sammy in the head.
He crumples to the floor. Bobby and Pauly hide their initial shock. Neither question me. I’m acting boss.
“Pezzo di merda,” Carlo mutters.
I walk over to look Sammy in his eyes as he chokes and sputters. “Was that enough leadership for you,stronzo?”
I watch the life slip from his body.