Chapter 14 Antonella
ANTONELLA
PLAYLIST: JUDGEMENT DAY – STEALTH
“Here,” says Salvatore as he hands me a pile of books, a phone and a laptop, where I sit at the desk in a study I took over.
Piles of books, old journals, and endless folders are spread over the desk and the room. I am in an information-gathering phase because I won’t have much time until my knowledge and power are challenged.
“It’s all set up, as well as your room, the wardrobe and the salon as you requested. I also organised the Sicilian teacher, she will arrive at four.”
“Thank you,” I say as I take the phone from him.
“You are required for a meeting with the Commissione in two days’ time,” he says. “What happened has come to their attention. They appeared very displeased with the unplanned order of action and not being informed.”
“I understand,” I say. I expected as much. I knew someone would leak. “We will proceed as planned. How is the mood?”
“I can’t confirm there won’t be any disruption.”
“Is it the muscle boy again?” I ask.
“He seems to have no further questions, but there is some struggle for power that should be addressed.”
I breathe out long with blown cheeks.
They’re like a pack of wolves. Just without the rules.
“Who do you think is most vulnerable?”
“Those two,” he says and points to the names with their photos on the map.
I nod, making a mental note to be very careful, before I dive back into what I was doing.
It is a lot, and I live under constant hyper-vigilance, and yet some sort of excitement resides in my chest. Of course, I didn’t think it was easy, but I didn’t know it would actually be exciting.
While studying, we had all the fake and rarely real cases where we had to analyse hypothetical questions.
Now, I am diving into a criminal organisation from the inside, and I can use all I have learned for the first time.
I had Salvatore tell me everything about family structures, and we drew a huge map of all the connections and names. I am quite bad at remembering names, so I memorised them in my mental palace, where I string names and information into a world I created in there.
It is basically a corridor with doors, each of which has a number, and it’s the digits of Pi. Behind every door is a room with different boxes where I categorise the information.
Now, I’m working myself through Giuseppe’s notes. Routes, accounts, and people he was in contact with. I secretly list everything.
“Is there anything else you need?” Salvatore asks.
“Not for the time being,” I say. “I’ll give you a call. I’m working through all the stuff here. Unless you have something?”
“There is one thing,” he says. “There has been a hiccup with a shipment in the Gulf of Mexico.”
“What does hiccup mean?”
“The ship has been flagged, and the DEA has set out to investigate.”
“What’s on it?” I ask, fully focusing on Salvatore.
“Coffee, thirty-three numeri, and cocaine with a value of forty-two million. They were preparing the swab outside the jurisdiction and a load off to three smaller vessels, one going to the Port of Houston, one to the Port of Palermo, and the other to the Port of Rome.”
I swallow. Forty-two million.
“What are numeri?”
“Humans.”
Goosebumps spread over my arms. Not of the good kind.
“Has that happened before?”
“Never.”
“It’s a power grab,” I say. “Who else knew of the shipment except you?”
Salvatore points at the two men he has shown me before. “He takes care of the ports in Palermo, and the other for Rome.”
I have no idea what to do. I don’t dare ask what Giuseppe would have done. I can’t look weak. Although I might be able to frame it differently.
“I assume there is a protocol?”
“Dumping,” he says. “Which would be catastrophic.”
“We’re not dumping humans,” I say. “Get me those two, I’ll make a call. Give me the vessel number and container identifications.”
“A call?” he asks as he writes everything on a piece of paper from his phone.
“Yes,” I say. “I might be young, but I have invaluable contacts. You will have an answer when you’re back.”
He nods and leaves.
I take the phone and call Rosalia.
“It’s me,” I say on the phone without a hello. “I need to speak to Kat.”
“You are still alive,” she says, surprised.
“I am, Kat, please. It’s important.”
“Here,” says Rosalia, annoyed and hands the phone.
“Yes?” says Kat.
“Listen, I don’t have much time. There is a shipment in the Gulf of Mexico, I believe someone is trying to overthrow me, and there must have been intel that was given to the DEA.
I am taking care of the mole here, but I need this shipment saved.
There are thirty-three people on it. I need them saved; otherwise, they will be dumped.
And cocaine, worth forty-two million. You said you have intelligence and contacts—“
I prepare myself for questions and further explanation, but instead, Kat asks, “Which vessel?” She asks in a tone that is so efficient that I am rather surprised.
I give her the details.
“What’s the timeframe?”
At that moment, Salvatore returns.
“Time frame?” I ask him.
“Less than an hour,” he says, the two men entering after him.
“You heard?” I ask.
“I did, I can’t promise anything, but I am rarely unsuccessful.”
I chuckle.
“Let me know,” I say, hang up and put the phone aside. I lean onto the desk, my elbows on it and my hands in a triangle of authority with the fingertips touching in front of me.
“So,” I say, slowly, before I look at them darkly. And right this moment, I feel like I’m in an interrogation room. I am interviewing criminals to find out who the culprit is.
Only that I own this room now. I can do whatever I want. Not restricted by anyone's direction.
A smirk appears on my face.
“It has come to my attention that one of our vessels was flagged by the DEA,” I say, watching them closely. “The question is, which of you two gave the intel to them?”
One of the men explodes and shouts in Sicilian.
“English, please.”
“How dare you accuse us!” he shouts.
The other asks, “Why do you suspect us? Could have been anyone.”
Neither denies it; they’re deflecting.
“Well,” I say. “Give me your phones.”
The angry one shouts in Sicilian again. Salvatore translates. “He says something along the lines that he’s not giving you anything, because you try to stick it to him like poop on his shoe.”
A downwards smile appears on my face as I scoff, and the other one hands the phone to me, reluctantly.
I take it, unlock it with his face, and look up the phone's details. I take a photo with my phone and send it to Rosalia’s number.
YOU
Check for any connections
I place it on the desk in the meantime. I lean on the desk, one hand on the gun in the back of the black high-waisted trousers Salvatore organised for me, together with the silk blouse I am wearing.
Black is not my style at all, but we agreed it might be the better choice than a floral dress for the time being, until the storm has calmed.
And while I disagreed, I wanted to give Salvatore the feeling that he matters.
“Last chance,” I say to the other man. “Give it to me now, or I will have to make an assumption. And that assumption will be that you are a traitor.”
“You are the traitor,” says the man and spits on the floor. He aims for his gun, but I am already waiting for it.
I pull my handgun and shoot before he has his in his hand.
“I will not allow betrayal,” I say as I walk up to the man on the floor with the life vanishing from his eyes as he coughs out blood, and I spit on him.
Salvatore nods slowly, apparently approving of the measures taken.
My phone vibrates.
I look at the display. A message from an unknown number, that must be Kat.
UNKNOWN NUMBER
none found
“Now, you,” I say. “You were honest and followed orders, and are hereby dismissed. But I am warning you, if you try anything, please be good, because I will be breathing down your neck the moment you try. Tell that to the others who think about going the same route as him,” and I tilt my head to the man on the ground.
My last words stick with me, because Rosalia has said the very same, and I have judged Rosalia for being who she is, acting the way she does, and now—now I am becoming her.
I kill people. It is the fourth person I have killed in my life.
They have deserved it. They have done very bad things, says a voice in my mind.
And I am becoming the very same I accused Rosalia and Kat of being. Now, I am the hypocrite.
Or you simply do what you have to survive, says the voice.
Maybe, I answer myself. But maybe they are doing the very same.
A feeling spreads through me. One that tells me I might have done both of them some injustice.
But then, they kidnapped me and tortured me. That should make us even.
“I must say,” says Salvatore, “I underestimated you.”
“Thank you,” I say. “Can you take care of that? I’d rather not have him lying around here.”
“He has a wife, shall he be returned?”
“Kids?”
“No.”
“Vanish him. Let this be an example to them.”
My phone vibrates, and I answer.
“I’m giving you coordinates,” Kat says, and my phone vibrates against my cheek. “You can let the shipment be picked up there. We are taking the people to a safe harbour.”
“As expected,” I say and add, “We’ll be in touch.” Telling her I can’t talk more right now.
“Be careful,” she says, “The number is traced to some bad stuff.”
“It’s been taken care of,” I say and hang up.
I open the laptop and enter the coordinates Kat has sent me.
It’s somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. At this point, I don’t even want to know how she made that possible. Someone with capabilities like hers must have connections in high places and resources beyond.
“Organise a pickup to these coordinates,” I say to Salvatore, handing him the coordinates written on paper.
Make sure they reach the original ports on time with the vessels that were expected to pick up.
” The last thing I know is that there was some major incident involving all sorts of food chains.
“How did you pull that off?” he asks.
“I have made some powerful friends over the years. Friends with ressources.” He looks at me with slits as eyes.
“Friends who will take the numeri as payment.”
“You traded them for the safety of the drugs,” he says.
I look at him. Things couldn’t play out any better for me. He and no one else knows they are in safety, and I am perceived as a cold, calculating Capo.
“It was thirty-three lives or a disruption that would cost a lot more lives than theirs. A decision had to be made.”
The corner of Salvatore’s mouth tugs up.
“I can see now why Giuseppe picked you,” he says and leaves for the door. There he stops. “Rest assured, you have my full support, sister.”
Sister.