Chapter 8
Marco
I’ve been going over the options all night, and there is only one solution. He is trying to take me down, so I do one better. Starting with getting my men out of jail, which can’t be done legally.
Van arrives to pick me up from my house. I drove back in plenty of time to not arouse suspicion. Although who I fuck is my business, I do have a lot of respect for Van. But I need to understand what exactly is happening with his sister before anyone else finds out.
“Boss.” Van nods at me through the review mirror when I get in the back seat. “The team are at the house, waiting for the go-ahead. There are six armed police officers with two dogs.”
“Bring them all in. Shoot to stop, not to kill. And no harm must come to the dogs.” The car suddenly comes to a stop.
Van eyeballs me through the mirror. “Did you say no harm to the dogs?”
“Yes, Van. Are you going deaf? Shoot to stop, not to kill. And no harm must come to the dogs.”
Van raises his eyebrows with wide eyes, then continues to drive.
“The more hostages the better. We will need the names of each officer and their family contacts. Let’s hope they all have wives and children.”
“Should we bring the dogs as hostages as well?” Van asks.
“Stop with all the fucking dog talk. What do you not understand? Leave the dogs there. Don’t touch the fucking dogs.”
Van briefly raises his hands in the air in apology before returning them to the steering wheel. I cannot be dealing with bullshit today. We sit in silence for the rest of the drive. It takes about forty minutes. When we pull up, I see my men stood outside the door to the office building. More of my men are bringing out police officers one by one.
“He’s on the top floor, boss.”
Not replying, I make my way inside and go up the four flights of stairs. When I reach the top floor, I can see Lorenzo through the glass door, sitting at his desk. His eyes are on me. He has the look of his own death on his face.
“Mr. Guerra, you’re making a big mistake. If you kill me, you will still be in the same position. The whole police force and Italian intelligence agencies are on to you now. There is no going back. You’re just making everything ten times worse for yourself.”
Letting him blabber on in fear, I walk around the office. Boxes of files line the floors, along with piles of paperwork and evidence bags.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find you here?” I say, picking up a file and flicking through the pages.
“I didn’t think you would be stupid enough to look for me,” Lorenzo responds.
Throwing the file on the floor, I stare at him. “You have forty-eight hours, Lorenzo. Make all this disappear.”
Lorenzo laughs. “I don’t think so, Guerra. I am going to be the one that finally brings you down.” His face wears a cocky smirk.
“Well, in that case, you won’t be the only one who disappears. Forty-eight hours. Starting from now.”
As I make my way out of the room, I hear his phone ring. A few seconds later, I hear him screaming my name, followed by obscenities and the noise of furniture hitting the walls.
When I get to the bottom of the stairs, Van is waiting for me.
“We have Lorenzo’s wife and sons in custody,” he informs me. “There were three police casualties, and the others are also being transported to the warehouse. And you will be pleased to know no dogs were harmed in the making of this operation. Some of our men, however, have nasty dog-related injuries.”
“They’ll survive.”
Van rolls his eyes at me while opening the door to my car. “The rest of the operations have also gone well. We have everyone on the list as well as a few extras,” Van explains before closing my door behind me.
“Extras?”
“Yes. I thought the Prime Minister might also be useful.” Van looks smug as he climbs into the driver’s seat.
“Not a bad idea.” I nod and pull my phone out to check on Mia. I’ve had her home security system installed on my phone. For safety reasons, obviously.
She’s still at home. Her car is parked in the driveway. Just as I’m about to click onto the internal cameras, I see her appear from the front door, wearing a red trouser suit that hugs those delicious curves. Her long dark hair is in curls and swishes when she walks. Unable to take my eyes off her, I watch as she gets into her convertible. She turns her car around and heads down the drive. The men I have guarding her pull out and follow behind her. Mia’s car suddenly comes to a stop. Her door swings open, and she charges up to the car following her. She opens the door and pulls out the driver. A laugh escapes my mouth.
I notice Van watching me curiously through his mirror. Wishing the cameras had sound, I try to imagine what she is saying to them. Mia looks angry, waving her arms around. After a minute or so, she returns to her car, but it doesn’t move. The image then disappears with an incoming call. Mia.
“Mia, to what do I owe the pleasure?”
Van stares at me curiously through the mirror, no doubt confused by the amused smirk on my face as I answer my phone to speak with his sister.
“Call your men off now. I do not need babysitting,” she snaps into the phone.
“They are there for your protection only, Mia.”
“No, you are spying on me, trying to control me. Call them off, Marco, or I swear I won’t let you touch me ever again.”
I turn the volume down on my phone, making sure Van cannot hear his sister’s outburst.
“The Guerra are under attack, Mia. Do not make things more difficult than they already are. Either stay with your security, or do not leave your house.” Ending the call, I look at Van, who’s staring at me with interest.
“Your sister is a difficult woman.”
Van doesn’t reply, just puts his eyes on the road. The screen again fills with Mia, so I watch as she returns to her car in a strop. She leaves with the security following her. I make a mental note to have a camera installed in her car. Again, just for protection.
I was so lost in my thoughts, I hadn’t realised my car had come to stop.
“We’re here, boss.”
I get out without a word. This particular warehouse has an underground club. The police have no idea this is even here, let alone connected with us. The club will be closed while we house the hostages. We enter through the concealed door. Van leads the way down the stairs to the staff quarters.
“I’ll speak to the Prime Minister first.”
The Prime Minister is brought to my office.
“Mr. Prime Minister, please take a seat.”
“Mr. Guerra, what is all this about?” The Prime Minister takes a seat, putting his hands together on his lap.
“For generations, the Guerra have ruled the cities through business, not bloodshed. Granted, the way we carry out justice isn’t the way the police force would, but we keep the streets in order. We do not tolerate disrespect, only loyalty. We pay taxes—taxes that fund this country and your government.”
The Prime Minister nods in agreement.
“Lorenzo has disregarded our unwritten agreement, our legacy. You must understand, Mr. Prime Minister, Lorenzo is creating a war between the police and the Guerra, which in turn means I am at war with the government. And I can assure you, I will win that war. The Guerra will stop paying any taxes. Investments in government projects will stop. Crime will soar, protection will cease, favours will stop.”
“I can assure you , Mr. Guerra, this is the last thing I, or the government, want.”
“I bet it’s not,” I agree, remembering the large coverup the Guerra did for him and his peers just last month. “He has forty-eight hours. You may stay in my office and use my phone. Sort it out, Prime Minister, or you’ll be my first example.”
Nodding his head in agreement, the man looks white as a ghost.
“Van will stay here while you make your calls,” I state, then leave them to it.
I want to check on the hostages. Lorenzo’s family are in one of the private lounges. They seem comfortable and as relaxed as can be expected under the circumstances. As long as Lorenzo sees sense, they will come to no harm.