ASCENSION (42 page)

“You’ll be surprised what I’ll do to protect this family.”

“I’m not anymore. I
need
to be careful what I tell you
from now on
or you might start a war with your pretty ass!”

A smile formed on her mouth, “Am I forgiven?”

“Not until you promise me to
never…” he stepped within inches, “
…ever pull anything like you did yesterday or today.”

“Okay.”

His arms went around her waist and he grimaced.
“
Ow
!” H
is shoulder
kicked his
ass but he recovered. “And from now on leave the shooting
to
the professionals
, I heard you only grazed Monticelli
.
So, no more guns okay
?”

“
Okay
, besides
it’s
not appropriate behavior for an expectant mom.”

He gripped her tighter. “
Seriously, y
ou’re sure?”

“Positive. Six weeks.”

He smirked, their anniversary weekend. Yes, he knew the day the hour and minute of conception. “I definitely need to keep you out of trouble. Oh babe, damn I love you.” He said proudly before kissing her soft lips until she giggled.

“I’m getting horny but you’re injured.”

“My dick isn’t.” He said backing her to the sofa.

She protested, “But Nico’s upstairs…”

He silenced her
protestations with sultry
kisses
until she purred into his mouth, “
Okay…um…b
ut
you’re hurt –so lie down on the sofa
and let me do the
riding.”

“
Ummm
…I
likey
.”

***

Vincent
stepped through
the open patio door
and
stopped in his tracks. “Uh
-oh bad timing
,
” he muttered under his breath
. He should have
called
first.
The sound of lovemaking emanated from
the
living-room
. He caught an
unimpeded view
o
f Selange’s
sloping spine and curved buttocks as she pleasured her husband
.
Her wavy hair hung
gloriously
free and untamed
contrasting with
the graceful erotic fluidity of her movements.

T
he fabled goddess
Aphrodite
must have
d
esigned
Selange’s
body for men to admire
because h
e was
mesmerized by it
.
He
literally
envied Alfonzo’s
supine
position.
He s
wallowed
hard
. Feeling guilty he
retreated
. The
lingering
act of
voyeurism during such a
n
intimate moment made him feel like a dirty old man.

Alfonzo you are one lucky motherfucker!

Vincent
snorted,
“I need to get laid
fast
before I become
some middle-age
pervert!”

CHAPTER THIRTY—
SIX

C
arlo Dichenzo
opened the envelope and read the contents of the three page letter
from America.
When
f
inished he calmly tucked
it
his
breast pocket
then
reached for the telephone. He called his son in the states,
“Giuseppe how is Nico?”

“He’
s much better
.”

“
A
nd
Alfonzo
and his family?”

“They are all well papa, why?”

“No
reason
son
.
I wanted to
check.”

After hearing Giuseppe’s
voice
he
removed
the ornate
ring and
placed
it in the top drawer along with the letter.
The driver was summoned and two of his
best men accompan
ied
him on
an
urgent
erran
d
.
In the car he phoned Alberti and instructed him to meet at their usual place.

Carlo’s
head turned to watch the
landscape
as they traveled
without haste
through the streets of
h
is beloved home. The wasted years believing his family was killed by order of
Monticelli when the real
murder
er
was here in Italy
was a disquieting thought
.

In time t
he car came to a stop outside a small café on the outskirts of Palermo. A place
h
e, Luzo and Alberti frequented as
young men
. The café remained
as
he remembered
, unchanged by the
descendants of the original owner Lorenzo.
The café boasted a sidewalk eatery allow
ing
patrons to enjoy the rustic scenery
on pleasant days
.
Today was an unpleasant one.

Alberti
sat drinking a brewed
roast,
he knew this because he was familiar with the man’s habits
.
He emerged from the car and
joined him
.

“
Buongiorno
,” Alberti
said in
a casual
welcome.

Carlo tapped the table, “Buongiorno, come let’s take a ride.”

Alberti took another sip of his coffee, “Um…very good.” He sipped once more then leisurely
pat
his mouth with the edge of the folded napkin. “We walk. I prefer to strengthen my legs.”

“Y
ou speak like an old man at times.
You are quite sprite but w
e will walk.” Then Carlo
signaled to
his
driver
.

Alberti noticed the troubled lines
etched
on Carlo
’
s face
as they strolled down the sloping street.
“So tell me what troubles you?”

“We were wrong
.
Monticelli is not responsible for
the massacre of our
family
which
r
obbed us of our youth
.
It was Umberto who did the horrible deed while the others did
n
othing to stop it!”

This news surprised and confused Alberti, “How do you know this?”

“Monticelli forwarded a letter.
He must have sensed
death
drew
near
.
I
b
elieve he speaks the truth
as
do
most
who
see their fate
.”

Alberti frowned, “Umberto
, humph! T
hen our Mike Logan worked for Umberto as did the agent Sinesi.
” He sighed, “I feel no regret or stricken conscience. What of you?”

Carlo chuckled, “Ah, my little brother you have been a rock.” He stopped, “We have kept many secrets but
as brothers
truth speaks.
I will handle Umberto and his co-conspirators.” They commenced walking
in silence
as the car
cruised
parallel to
the
curb.

Each man absorbed in his thoughts,
each
thinking
of the carnage to their lives.
Alberti,
was spared the visual of his family’s bloody end.
His memories were of his mother coming to his bedroom in the night, lifting him into her arms and kissing his innocent cheek before placing him inside of the dumb waiter telling him this was a game. He was to stay quiet, no matter what he hear
d
until she came for him and only then
was
the game
over
. And so he did
as told
; he stayed silent
until
he fell asleep. When he awakened he heard nothing
, only the sound of his breathing but he remembered what his mother said and held his breath until his lips whistled forcing him to breathe. The game went on and soon he grew frightened and began to cry.

Finally, he heard noise and light shown once again on his face but it was not his mother there, it was his nine year-old brother Anthony. He carried him out and covered his eyes, for what reason a three year-old did not know. He thought it part of the game and smiled. He felt the cold air on his skin and only then did his brother remove his hand and set him on the ground.

“Giuseppe, stay here
,
understand
?” His brother instructed and he nodded.

Anthony went into the house and returned later with a bag
along with a coat and shoes for him to wear.
He put them on then they traveled away from the house in silence. They walked until he grew tired and complained. Anthony took mercy on him and they sat on a large stone off the side of the road to eat provisions then
commenced
walking once more. They reached a house and his brother knocked. The door opened and a woman with short brown hair ushered them in then went to fetch
them
hot milk
.
They sat near the hearth as music drifted from the gramophone.

He missed his mother but the lady was nice and brought
more
cookies when he cried. When her husband arrived home they went to the kitchen
to
whispered
.
That was the last time he saw his brother Anthony. It was also when the nice people gave him a new name, Alberti. He liked it and he liked learning chess with his new father. It was his new mother who taught him to appreciate flowers and in time they became his family
.
Many years later Anthony returned
a man and they were reunited
. Anthony disclosed
the truth about their family and his sheltered world of studies ended.
On that day he too became
a man.

Carlo concentrated on his footing as
he navigated over a
section of protruding
cobblestones
to where
the ground leveled
then
spoke, “You have always been the best tactically, how do
I
get to
Umberto
?
”

Alberti understood the concern. Umberto traveled with many bodyguards and was
n
ot an easy target. In Italy he grew more powerful
.
“W
ith swift planning.
”
He stopped and a mischievous smile formed
, “
We will not give him time to hide again. There is a meeting to take place and all the members will be there. We hit him there.”

Carlo
placed a hand fondly on
his young brother’s
shoulder. He spoke Alberti’s birth name, something he had
not
done since they were children, “No, Giuseppe, this will be my voyage. You are the rock, remember?”

Alberti
took a cigar from his pocket and lit it, “
I will get the address for you Anthony.”

Carlo
smiled to hear his true name spoken aloud. “We are Giacanti’s.”

“We are Giacanti’s and we will reclaim our name.”

They changed course
to
travel
back toward the café
. Every step
of the
way
t
hey
discussed their options then finally settled
on
a direct tactical approach.
One
that Umberto
nor any of the Board expected
.

C
hristopher
paced the floor
of the investigators office
. He gestured at the suited
agents seated calmly as they waited for an explanation why he missed the
ir
scheduled hearing yesterday.