Ded Reckoning (41 page)

He hurries toward the sedan and regardless of his fascination with Estella, he heads directly toward Pisces.  Business is always business, and Pisces is always first.  Foremost.  All else follows.

He and Pisces hug in a mafia-like greeting.  Whisper some comments to each other, then Pisces, with his arm around her, introduces Rocco to Chiarina.  Then with a sweeping motion of the other hand toward Estella, he makes the grand introduction.

Estella stands with both hands on her hips, head canted to one side, gazing at the big Italian.  Rocco bows, then smiles wide again with his arms stretched out, palms of his hands up.    Stell nods her head several times, a grin appears, and she leaps into Rocco's arms and hugs him.  Clings to him for several moments, then whispers in his ear, "I like."  Then pushes away, asks, "You?"

Rocco grins.  "I like.  Let me show you around Mister Catalano's villa."  She hooks her arm through his and they turn toward the house.  Rocco stops suddenly, turns and says, "Bossa?"

Pisces nods, stares hard, says.  "Yes.  Go."  Then smiles.

Chiarina clutches Pisces, head on his shoulder.  He pulls her tight and whispers, "Whether this is the way it will be, will be up to you and Estella.  Not him.  He is expendable."

She lifts her head, half turns toward Pisces, says, "Roberto, what does that mean?"

"It means that all this," his free arm sweeping towards the villa, "is for the three of us.  Any more is of our choosing.  We are going to live."  He pauses and louder exclaims, "Live!"

CHAPTER 30
 

 

"Squeeze, don't pull.

Watch, don't blink.

Move, don't wait."

 A Gunslinger's rule.

 

 

Hunter and Marnee stroll past the Pisces villa.  It's past noon.  They pause for a moment across the street.  Hunter says, "Wait 'til we walk-on, then glance up this side of the main house and you'll see a shuttered window.  The only one with the shutters closed.  It's an enlarged pantry of sorts off the kitchen.  The shutter lock is a snap to open, and the window's lock is broken.  I don't think any of the help realizes it.  That's how I got in.  That's our entry point tonight.  Okay?"

"Yes."

"Well, take a look."  Marnee gets a glance as they tramp on up the grade toward the end of a street that rivals Lombard Street in San Fran or at least Snake Alley in Burlington, Iowa.  Is certainly the most crooked street in Taormina.

The two are wearing combinations of dark brown and green slacks and long sleeve shirts to blend with  the terrace they are about to adopt.  Each have a thin layer of neutral make-up on their faces to subdue any glare.  Weapons are tucked in the rear waistbands of their slacks.  Silencers already attached.  Gloves jammed in pockets as are dark ski-mask covers for their heads and extra magazines for their weapons.  They continue past the villa, up the hill where Hunter points out a winding path that leads to a semi-wooded portion with heavy undergrowth and rotting lemons.  It's an abandoned citrus orchard.    It is seventy-five yards from the Pisces villa and elevated enough so one can look down onto the villa's grounds.  It looks onto the two-story side of the main house where the bedrooms are and onto the huge veranda.  The patio is situated so its occupants, seated at the table, or by the pool have a view down toward the town, the beach and out to sea to the Ionian coast.  No afternoon or evening sun to contend with, and in late afternoon the house itself provides a measure of comfortable shade.  Or the folks can simply move to the covered segment of the veranda.  Pisces in his selection and improvements has thought of everything pleasurable to include the four-person Jacuzzi and the wood-burning oven.  For pizzas probably.   

Hunter leads Marnee to a spot he found on one of his previous reconnaissance's.  It provides excellent cover and has an after-mission egress that will take them down and around the town and to the bay with little chance of being seen.  They settle in, uncomfortably but hidden by the undergrowth.  They see the four-door black Mercedes has not been put away in the garage.  It's parked and they see the young man washing it with the older gentleman supervising.  No roadster or Benito in sight.  Nor is anyone else at the moment.

Hunter whispers, "As planned, we sit and watch.  Go in tonight, late, and take 'em out."

"The women?"

"Not if we can avoid it at no risk, but we have to go in tonight.  Before any chance that Pisces and Rocco institute better security.  They have nothing but their belief in the serenity of this place and the covertness of their relocation at the moment. That won't last.  Pisces is too paranoid."

"No witnesses."

"None.  Then I go to the study, pick up what I need and I'll set the timer.  We'll be long gone down the hill. Possibly on the boat and gone."

They both take a sip of water and settle.

 

 

Pisces and Rocco wander out to poolside.  Drinks in hand.  The chaise lounges and small tables have been arranged by the villa's staff, with Rocco's supervision, to accommodate the four of them.  Rocco looks up to ensure they will have good sun to tan, or dry themselves should they swim.

Roberto Catalano eases out onto the veranda and says, "Rocco, now we start the rest of our lives.  No more work."  He grins and asks before the big Italian can answer, "How was your surprise?"

"It is possible she will killa me before the day is out.  She is the besta fu ... " he looks around quickly, catches himself for a few reasons.  One, the ladies inside the house are about to come outside.  He grins, "besta time ol' Rocco has had in longa time, and she is almost as beautiful as Signora Russo, your Chiarina."  He continues, "Ahhh, Bossa, I want to thank you with all ..."

"No thanks necessary.  What are friends for?  Let's enjoy and speaking of that, they're about to join us."

"Finally," Rocco mutters.  Then quickly adds, "Signora Russo is a classy lady.  Beautiful.  More so than all the others."

"Yeah, and has one helluva lot of moola and property, and a switch-hitter for a friend.  Did Estella mention that while she was jumping your bones a little while ago?"

"No, Bossa.  Not exactly."

"Not exactly?  What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, yes.  She say ... ahhh, I don't care unless ... unless ..."

"Unless it includes me?  Right?"

Rocco nods his head.  Pauses.  "Right.  Then I no interfere.  Go back to Adrianna and perhaps to Rome."

"Hmmmm?  Well, here we go."

The bikini clad Chiarina and Estella saunter up, sunglasses propped on their heads and with  glasses of white wine in hand.  Chiarina asks, "What was that you were saying?"

"Nothing important."

Pecks on the cheek for both men follow, and all four fumble around a tad to get seated properly. Sunglasses pop down, bra tops come off and lotion goes on.   Roberto and Rocco remain sitting as the gals lie-out, face up.  The arrangement is such that the two men face one another with the women stretched out between them.  The sipping of wine and conversation begins.  With a glance Pisces and Rocco can see Mount Etna in the distance and in the other direction the town and the Ionian coast.  However, their fascination is focused on the four Etna's and two coves sprawled before them.

Seventy-five yards away, Hunter and Marnee watch.  Gloves on.  Masks on.  No chance of a glint being emitted and seen.  It's hot and the climb was steep.  They take a sip of water.  Their conversation is whispered and infrequent.  It's all business.  However expert and professional, their minds still drift momentarily on occasion to allow individual justifications to wander across the frontal lobe.  Also at times they flicker with glimpses of the past:   OSS, Assisi, CIA, and Mossad.  Old world.  New world.  But in the end it is nothing more complex than what it is and what they are.  Ambush.  Hunters stalking their prey.

Chiarina moves first from the chaise lounge.  She stands, tugs at her bikini bottom, steps out of it, and then drops it on the seat.  She saunters to the edge of the pool, sits, then slips into the aqua blue water and breast strokes to the middle.  Stands, turns and faces the group and shouts, "Roberto, come join me.  Everyone.  Let us have a water fight."

Pisces stands, strips off his trunks and makes a shallow dive from the edge and comes up under his woman.  Stands, lifts Chiarina on his shoulders and then dumps her backwards into the water with a splash and her high-pitched scream of profanity.  As is everything in his life, he sets the tone.  Others follow or they ...

Estella follows, however she takes longer in depositing her bikini bottom and lingers at the edge of the pool so all see the full magnificence of her natural red hair while inhaling deeply, breasts heaving like full moons rising.  Then she jumps, squealing into the cool water.  Rocco waits, taking in Stel's beauty, then follows suit minus his trunks as well.

Immediately, Roberto and Rocco lift the women onto their shoulders, and the water wrestling begins.  After several engagements, they change partners and continue the playful battle.  Finally, Chiarina shoulders Estella and they fight Pisces lifted by Rocco.  Rocco is noticeably uncomfortable with the arrangement.  However, it is difficult to know who is enjoying the match more.  Pisces with his groping of Estella as they wrestle or her with Chiarina's neck twisting and wrenching, tucked hard between her thighs.  Or Chiarina's joy that is abundant as she grips Estella's thighs with her hands adding to the churning.  It is mischievous foreplay which Pisces wins of course, and he ends the play by wrestling a flailing Estella off Chiarina's shoulders, dumping her head first into the pool.  Then he dives off Rocco's shoulders in the water and on top of Estella beneath the surface pretending to dunk her.  Chiarina joins them in the beneath the surface aquatics.  It is what it is.  The game is over.  When the three surface, the women hug one another for longer than a moment in recognition of their loss, or was it a win?  

The final water battle and dunking is followed with healthy laps by all, except for Rocco.  He stands leaning at pool's edge with a bent arm resting on the Cool-Crete decking.  Laps complete, all pull themselves up and out of the pool and return to their respective lounges. Rocco stands at his chaise, watches, wonders about what he's witnessed, as Pisces moves next to him, staring at him.   Then they towel-off, step back into their trunks saying nothing and stretch out.  Chiarina and Estella, finish their glasses of wine, then sit and lay-out, face up, to dry in the warm Sicilian afternoon sun.  No toweling.  No wet bathing suits.  Pisces calls to the old woman in the house to bring more wine.  She appears with two bottles.  Opened.  One of white, one of red.  One in each hand and tries not to notice the younger, better endowed ladies stretched out, drying.

Pisces gets up and pours for the gals.  It's polite.  And of course provides another up-close momentary glance at Estella, and eye contact.   And with Chiarina as well of course.

Rocco's head rises from his chaise lounge and catches this foreplay once again.  His vibes jingle sour notes.  
No MacBeer.  Not a word from the master prick.  Now this.
 

He sits up, reaches for the bottle of red wine and offers it first to Pisces.

Pisces nods in acceptance, offering his glass, as he sits on his chaise glimpsing directly into Rocco's eyes.  
He knows
.

 

 

Above the villa in the now sticky heat, Hunter whispers, "Great bods."

Marnee stares up at Hunter, says, "You keeping a close watch are you?  I'm going to stay down here and rest for a short while longer.  Okay?"

"Do it.  Not much for you to see up here."

"But for you, it is good?"

"Yeah.  The best."

"Be patient.  Better is coming."

He twists around, looks down at Marnee and sees her eyes sparkling beneath the face mask which is straining from a grin as well.  
She's right.  They're not in her class
.

"I can see you agree," and she gives him a gentle shove back into position.

Before turning his head, he whispers, "Marnee, you are dazzling.  You are the reason cavemen chiseled on walls."

 

 

Zachary answers the phone on the first ring.  Responds, "Zachary."

Then hears the voice on the other end say, "I've got him.  Hog-tied.  What next?"

"Where?"

"The Bahamas ... Nassau.   Plush, plush house."

"Good work.  Now, give him a choice.  He writes a note and takes the pills you hand him, or you kill him and make it look like it's self-inflicted."

"That's it?"

"That's it.  Tell him what to write.  As we discussed."

"Done."  

Zachary orders, "I want a confirmation call."  

"Yes, sir."

Joe Zachary puts the receiver down, leans back in his chair, and mutters, "Too good for the son-of-a-bitch."

 

 

Hunter tugs at Marnee as the sun begins to slip behind Etna.  Motions her to raise up. Whispers to her, "The gals have gone into the house."

She scrambles to a sitting position.  "The guys aren't moving."

"Nope, and look at the activity at the garage.  The kid and the old woman are standing around the car.  They're waiting for something.  I got a hunch and possibly we get a break.  Our agenda may be goin' forward a few notches."

They sip some much needed water in this heat.  They are perspiring heavily in these not made for summer outfits.  They continue their ambush watch.  A half-hour passes and then the two women come out onto the veranda.  Talk with Pisces and Rocco, give them pecks on the cheek, and go to the Mercedes.  The back doors are open and waiting.  They ease in, Chiarina first, both chattering excitedly it seems.  Once in, Estella leans over and kisses Chiarina on the cheek as the boy closes the door.

The old woman gets in front, and the young man climbs behind the wheel.  He eases the black sedan out of the parking area and onto the street heading for town.