ASCENSION (10 page)
Domingo’s
hyper
tone
softened
,
“
Yeah
check you later man
.”
Salvatore saw his dad first
and broke loose from
Shanda
, “
P
oppy
!
”
Selange
looked up and noticed her husband then
followed
the boy
. “What took you so long
?”
Alfonzo
picked up his son then
turned his attention to his
wife, “
D
id you
really
m
iss me?”
She pressed against him
reassuringly
, “
Of course I did. Anyway, Sal…
”
He looked over her head
and noticed
Franky
’s smile fade
. Francisco Dejesus came highly
recommended by several contacts. The background
check revealed no criminal record,
nothing.
The guy seemed legit
, yet-
“Alfonzo,
a
re you listening?”
“
Que
?”
“Guess not
.
”
S
he said flatly
taking the boy from his arms
, “
I
t’s
Sal’s bedtime
,
tell daddy
g
ood-night.
”
“Night,” his son waved as he was carried away.
“
Buenos noche hijo
,” Alfonzo
grinne
d
as Sal yawned.
When
they were
gone
he marched over to
have a talk with
Franky
.
Shanda
was busy
texting
when
Alfonzo
approached Franky.
“You’ve been doing a great job taking care of my family,” Alfonzo began.
This
opening
caused Franky to
let his guard down
,
“Thanks
.
”
Alfonzo’s eyes were hooded,
“ Tonight
why don’t you go have a good time, take my wife’s friend out on the town
and s
how her the
island’s night life.
”
Franky answered flatly, “
Yeah
,
no problem
.
”
He did not want to blow this gig. If taking Shanda
out e
nsured his
job
then
h
e
w
ould
do
whatever
Alfonzo
asked.
Alfonzo
took
several
crisp
Franklin’s
from his wallet, “
Show her around
the
island
.
Hit
some nice clubs
. Here
, take this.”
Franky accepted the money
.
Alfonzo’s gaze remained level
as he sized-up the man. Franky
stood
an
inch
or so
shorter
than
him with a bulky muscular build.
The body-builder type who spent hours in a gym lifting weights and when it came to a fight
likely
slow and
cumbersome.
H
e guessed
women
considered
a
steroid physique and long ponytail
attractive
.
Perhaps, his wife did, too.
Alfonzo’s
chiseled features
were impassive, “
Hav
e a good-time
and take tomorrow
off
I
’ll
be spending
down time with my wife
.”
Franky
’s duplicitous
façade splintered.
The
telling
indictment
was
always the eyes. Uncle Al had always said to look a man in the eyes and read his soul. Franky’s book revealed a hin
t of covetous disappointment.
Maldito
!
He wants to fuck my
wife!
Alfonzo’s eyes flicked
over
to his wife’s friend,
“Hey
,
Shanda
,
Franky
’s going to show you around
tonight
. I want you guys to have a good time, okay chica?
”
Shanda
stopped texting and
beamed
, “
Bou
t time
. I better find something to put on
!
”
She stood up and danced to the sliding doors
.
A
l
fonzo
followed. His anger
boiling,
his heart pounding. If he didn’t walk away he
’d
kill Franky where he stood!
N
ico
open
ed his eyes as the plane climbed into darkness
. The sky was
a black abyss dotted with tiny lights flickering in the dark capacious firmament.
He felt like the stars
, e
n
cumbere
d by
the
weight of
the
atmosphere
una
ble to combat the
powerful
forces of
blackness enclosing them.
A part of the universe,
necessary and
important
, no matter how miniscule.
He’d gotten this assignment right after return
ing
from South America. An important job with considerable pay attached. His young boss learned
quick
. He possessed a knack for this business, something you can’t teach
a person
, it’s either inherent or it’s not.
Vincent
probably
loung
ed
somewhere on Alfonzo’s estate living it up
. They hadn’t spoken for a while, a couple of months to be exact. The last conversation they had his brother didn’t seem too interested in going back to Italy. He said he loved the warm island weather and the beautiful women of Puerto Rico. Apparently he was smitten with a local but knowing Vincent it would end quickly, the novelty always did.
Nico rubbed his temple, h
is head hurt
like hell from thinking too much.
He missed Ariana and the kids. She flew in to the Dominican Republic with the boys
to meet him for vacation two days after the Freddie job. He gave her some money, made love to her like he were dying, frolicked with his kids on the beach of the private resort then was off again. Now here he sat, missing the hell out of his sexy wife about to add another page to his résumé of death.
One which
would
settle once and for all
an ongoing competition between brothers.
If he pulled this one off right he’d win the title for most kills in a year.
Nico made himself comfortable which wasn’t easy with a six foot four
frame
and two-hundred—
forty
pounds of solid muscle. It didn’t help the airlines manufactured seats for hobbits and anorexic noodles. He
c
ould have flown first class but didn’t want to stand—
out
,
therefore he flew coach and regret
the decision
the entire flight.
He thought about
an early
retirement. He was relatively young,
approaching
forty,
he had his health and amassed
enough money to live anywhere in the world comfortably. Sometimes he
yearned for a normal life but since he was emotionally
fucked-up, a
normal life would feel abnormal, wouldn’t it?
Since
a very young age
h
is father
groomed
him and Vincent
for this life. His
father’s father was
a
Capodecima.
A tough and brutal Lieutenant loyal to Sergio Giacanti.
In Italy he was called
Il Santo
Oscuro
,
the Dark Saint. This nickname many say was fitting because his grandfather’s methods of death were torturous and
his
many victims often plead
ed
for a merciful quick kill at his hands.
He and his crew were slaughtered in the Giacanti massacre. His father took up the family tradition and taught his son’s the way of the Serano’s.
His father once said, “
Nico, when you must
clip
a man.
Clip
him in the fashion he has lived.”
At fourteen his father demonstrated exactly what he meant by these words. He brought Nico and Vincent along on a hit.
The unsuspecting victim a police informant and cousin of the mobster w
ho ordered the job.
It was dark and they followed
the man
when he
left
the home of
a prostitute
in
Capaci
. They
were b
y all a
ccounts
a family
strolling
home
.
When they passed the man, he seemed unconcerned by their presence, they were not a threat and he smiled in greeting. It was then he saw the blade as it caught the light of the moon before slicing into the man’s flesh. He fell with a sickening thud and
Nico’s father knelt, opened the man’s mouth and cut out his tongue. Blood spewed across the man’s white cheeks as he drowned and his father stood there holding the tongue then turned to his son’s, “
Clip
a man in the fashion he lives, always remember what I have said.”
Nico always remembered but
it
’s
Vincent who practices the art. Nico preferred another technique.
One which has proven more effective in modern times.
Accidental deaths or complete eradication.
He left no trace of his presence and in turn no evidence of foul play. Thinking of his father
caused him to
snicker
.
His father
’s
nickname
was
‘
The Butcher
’
, a fitting
alias
.
The old man since retired and ironically
owned a Butcher Shop.
He wondered i
f the patrons
were aware
the unsuspecting
grey hair
man carving slices of pastrami once
sliced the
skin
and tongues of men for a living, would they
continue to frequent the establishment? He thought not.
As the sun began to set the plane soared through the sky and he could see the small island in the distance. A
familiar
a
nnouncement
came
, “Everyone please fasten your seatbelts as we begin
our descent.
”
E
xcited c
hatter ensued
then silence as they descended toward the tarmac on the island of
Barbados.
Nico examined his pas
sport
.
MICHAEL GRANT.
Such a bland name.
Did he resemble a
Michael
Grant?
The
passport photo
displayed
a clean-shaven blonde man with piercing green eyes
.
Nico scoffed,
he hated the drastic change in appearance
but it was necessary
.
Once the plane landed he merged with the other passengers
to
exit
the aircraft
then proceeded through customs. His belongings and passport were examined and he was waved on his way.
It was easy locating a
taxi,
they were plentiful and eager to whisk visitors anywhere on the island. This was his first trip to Barbados and from the warm greetings and manners of the people he wished he’d come for a more pleasurable visit.
