ATONEMENT (19 page)

Ah
,
stress! H
e stopped and rolled the kinks out of his neck, promising to hit the gym
later
. He needed a good work-out. He had to find some time to relax, everything was coming together, and patience is far kinder on the body then haste. He grimaced, ah, shit, he thought
,
‘I’m beginning to sound like Alberti.’

He
inhaled
the island air, took another sip of coffee then heard the
unmistakable, familiar sounds of gunfire. In the street the man aiming straight at him was no other than the recently terminated GC,
Bryan!

The cup dropped out of his hand as Vincent
shoved him aside
and
more shots echoed. In the exchange a molten flame struck his arm
. Damn, instinct was a bitch, he thought.
No wonder he was uneasy last night, Bryan’s belligerent attitude told him to expect trouble but g
oddamn he didn’t expect this
!

Vincent
s
tumbled
or ducked, Alfonzo wasn’t sure because in the commotion everything happened
in fast reel;
the popping noises, glass shattering, cars swerving
and
shrieks from pedestrians
were
a true
life
scene
. No movie,
this was
real!

Alfonzo reached
for
his .22
secured
at his ankle
,
but Vincent pushed him
sideways.
W
hen
Alfonzo flexed forward with a
black look
, Vincent
held him to the
ground as another
succession of shots rang out
. The bullets whizzed
overhead and
Vincent returned fire, not wild shots
but controlled ones
.

Bang! Bang!

That’s
it;
two shots from
Vincent’s
M9 stopped Bryan’s progression. He was stumbling backward drunk with lead about to topple when from across the street a
PRPD officer with the silver Guardia shield
, his
gun extended, both hands clasped to
the
revolver
fir
ed
directly
at the injured gunman
’s head
.

Vincent saw the resulting impact as a bullet ripped through Bryan
sending a spray of human tissue out the side. “
Oooh
, that
gotta
hurt,” he mumbled as Bryan’s legs buckled and he collapsed slamming face down in the street.

People screamed.

Alfonzo heard f
eet running
,
sirens and
ensuing
pandemonium. T
he contents of coffee slid to meet
the thick pool of blood near his body.
He lay there,
unwilling to tussle
with Vincen
t because he was
too darn exhausted
and frankly he could use a rest.
He knew when it was over because the
gunfire
and
panic-stricken voices
ceased
.

Fifty
Cents’
former rap hit played in his head and he jammed to it, finding it appropriate under the circumstances.

‘Many men…many…many…many…many men, wish death on me…I don’t cry no
more…don’t look
to the sky no more…
’

He would’ve stayed there
,
napping
if
Vincent’s voice
hadn’t asked,
“What the hell
’s
wrong with you
;
a graze and you
’
r
e
dead?”

Alfonzo
looked
at the sky
and
found
Vi
ncent staring down
in
amusement. “Go ahead
pendejo
lau
gh.
I’m
tired.”

“No, you’
re
plain
crazy.
”

“
Que
también
.”

Who the hell sleeps during a shoot
-out
?”

“You
kept
knocking me over!
”

“Yeah, I did
it
so you wouldn’t
catch a bullet in
your
big
head
,
not for you to go nighty-night
by
lull
ing yourself
to sleep with a 50 Cent death song
.”

Alfonzo got to his feet
and
examin
ed
the t
ear
to
his favorite
Brook’s Brothers suit jacket. “Shucks!”
B
lood poured down the sleeve
and he
looked at Vincent, “He missed your
large
cabeza
and got me.”

“
He’s a piss
of a
shot.
Probably never shot a gun a day in his life.
”

“You have to stop
pushing me, m
y reflexes are
way
faster than yours big guy.”

“Bull-
shit!”

“The time it took you to
shove
me out of the way you
could’ve
covered
your own ass.”

“Shut-up kid, that’s not what I’m paid to do.”

Alfonzo frowned, “Vin, just stop with the shoving shit alright?”

“Yeah…yeah…yeah!”
Vincent
said dismissively then
turned toward the active police scene. The cops were
out
in force. Soon they’d come to question him and Alfonzo. Yeah, they’d want his weapon until the investigation was over. He had others
,
but this one was his favorite.
He heaved
air;
Alfonzo didn’t understand much did he? Vincent’s job was to keep him safe and out of harm’s way. Money wasn’t the incentive, far from it. He and Nico took oaths. They
were
sworn to protect
Alfonzo and then
he’d made another pledge to Alfonzo
.
Both
were
affirmed
on the blood of the
Giacanti’s
.
To die ensuring the grandson of Sergio Giacanti survived was a fulfillment of his duties, a goddamn honor!

Alfonzo
had his
sleeve
rolled up checking the bullet wound.
Vincent
’s
right, the
projectile
didn’t penetrate any muscle or bone, it mostly
hit
the fleshy p
ortion
of
his
upper arm.
He
need
ed
a few stiches, otherwise, he
’d
live
.

His chuckle got Vincent’s attention, “You owe me another coffee.”

“That’s all you can think about
,
coffee and your
precious
suit?”

“Right now, is there anything more important?”

“How about you almost got done in by
a two-bit drunk?”

“Almost, is an adverb
, i
t modifies a verb, so I guess I
didn’t
get done
-
in by the two bit drunk,
did
I
?”

Vincent cocked a brow at the younger man,
yeah,
he was talking crap which
m
ean
t
Alfonzo really needed some sleep. “Let me get you that coffee so you can function,
‘
cause
right now
you’re
not
making any goddamn
sense!”

The chaotic scene was over.
It e
nded with Bryan’s lifeless body in the street
,
two bullet
holes to
the
chest, courtesy of Vincent and
a kill shot above the
right
ear,
courtesy of PRPD.
Alfonzo
shook his head, goddamn,
it was safer
dealing with
known criminal associates then
so-called legitimate
businessmen!

                   
                    
  ***