waited for Raphael to be handed off. Assisted by the two transpo guards, the boss of the New York mafia stumbled from the van, looking far older and frailer than the last time I’d seen him.
He looked like shit.
His once shiny black hair had been chopped off, leaving him with a haphazard buzzcut. He’d lost a good amount of weight. And even with his shackled ankles, he seemed to be hobbling more than necessary. Was he injured? Sick?
Everything happened so fast. There wasn’t even time to think.
The four guards met at the back of the van for the exchange—
Shots rang out.
Fuck!
“Shots fired, shots fired!” I shouted.
I just couldn’t tell where they were coming from.
I burst out of the building, gun raised, but didn’t have a clear target to aim at. One transpo guard was already down, and the other three were scrambling for their guns and cover. I crouched behind an old ice machine just as a dark van with blacked-out windows came careening down the street. Its passengers were firing their semi-automatic weapons through the open windows. One courthouse guard tried to push Raphael behind the transpo van for cover, but a bullet struck him in the chest, felling the guard.
“Nico!” Dad yelled in my ear. “Talk to me! What’s happening?”
The van hadn’t reduced its speed as it continued barreling in our direction. Raising my gun and firing, I shot out windows and hit one of the front tires. Of course, this drew the shooters’ attention. I had to quickly duck behind the machine as they opened up a few rounds near my head, striking the brick and mortar building behind me instead.
“Nico!” Cris barked.
“Unmarked van,” I panted through the surge of adrenaline. “Multiple shooters. Two guards are down.”
“Esposito’s men?” Rome asked, sounding out of breath, like he was running.
“Can’t tell. They’re all wearing masks.”
“Niners?” Ace asked frantically.
The gang’s rogue members that had shot up the mafia summit meeting a few months ago had all been wearing masks. Were they trying to complete their revenge against the Espositos, despite their own boss’s orders?
“Don’t know. Possibly.”
My heart pounded furiously, but not from fear. Life and death situations like this usually happened too rapidly to stop and consider what was at stake. How much risk was involved. You just had to react, try to be smart, and hope for the best.
With one of the front tires blown, the van’s driver lost control of the vehicle and crashed into the transpo van. When the dark van’s side door flew open, the shooters in ski masks jumped out and fired off rounds in all directions. The other two guards went down in the chaos. I got off a few more shots and might have even hit one of the bastards, but I didn’t think it was fatal.
They went straight for Raphael and put a gun to his head.
Goddammit.
“Let him go!” I roared, bounding up from behind the machine with my gun raised.
The shooters’ heads all snapped in my direction. There looked to be four of them, plus the driver, who never got out of the vehicle.
The one who held Raphael by the back of his neck, gun barrel pressed to his temple, laughed maniacally. “Why should I? The man has killed many people, no? He’s a monster, yes? I’ll just kill him now and spare the taxpayers a lot of money to forego this trial.”
His accent was odd. He was clearly trying to disguise his real voice.
“It doesn’t matter,” I shouted back. “Justice has to be served for all the crimes he’s committed. The law determines his punishment from here on out, not you.”
They all laughed this time. Raphael’s back was turned to me so I couldn’t see his face. Was the man scared for his life?
“We make the laws in our world!” the shooter bellowed, still laughing. “We serve our own justice. Surely, you can understand that, Rossetti. This is your world now as much as it is ours and as much as it his.”
They know who I am.
My finger itched to squeeze the trigger. I didn’t give two shits if this guy wanted Raphael dead or what his beef with the families was. They’d just shot four innocent men. People who had families. Families who were relying on them to come home in one piece tonight.
“Death would be too quick for him,” I said in hard voice. “He deserves to rot in prison for the rest of his life.”
Where the hell were all the cops that were patrolling the front of