ter

nio'

ight on Morgan Street. Even from behind the windshield

omato sauce, and freshly baked bread coming from the man

es lining both sides of the building. I put my hand on the knob, p

***

eeks e

the streets look like a fictional paradigm. Too many colors. Vi

eview. Sleek and black. A thirty-f

traffic, and the lights of the city reflected in the wet pavement. My eyes are fixed on the large, imposi

ghts blink three times. I check my watch. Right on time. I take my Colt Python and stuff it into the waistba

of them. But th

night,

el us coming, Fran

," they a

lets start firing. I'll go in alone so they thi

aid th

n the safe room,

ove to hid

ck, capo," Juto point

m, and with a determined strid

***

as its easy access to the lakefront. It's a lively neighborhood with a diverse population, and a goddamn place to live if you want to be close to the action. Which should be the

rim. From what my men have told me, I know that the last floor of th

said, his hand resting

meet his gaze, unflinching. "Soni

ation passing between them. Finally, one of the

oks too

e top floor. As I ascend, I take out my gun, check the mag, check the spares in my ankle ho

e a Roman knot. I need to move quickly. Without hesitation, I r

in around, my own gun hand out, and fire back. The bullet hits the guard square in the chest, and he crumples to th

er correct. I have to get to the safe room, no matter what. I turn a corner, see the door that leads to the safe room in front of me. It is heavily reinforced, and very clear that I will have

I find myself in a large, dimly lit space. There is a desk in the middle of

my uncle's henchman

his eyes cold and calculatin

n tightens. "Oh, Luigi. B

omments. "And qui

y dumb guards. Why waste money on t

here to bant

urface. Doesn't seem like they'll be going anywhere soon. My eyes move to the door behind

room?" he says, his voice mocking. "It's imp