The Mafia Trilogy (42 page)

Then a thought occurred to him. Would it respond like a boat?

He looked down into the darkened area around his feet but couldn’t see the brake pedals. Feeling around, he detected numerous pedals at once. He chose the pedal on the left, pushed down softly and saw through the rectangular slot that the tank turned to the left a little.

“Got it!” he shouted.

He quickly learned to hit the brakes on one side to turn easy and fast. By using the brakes on the treads on one side, the tank turned as if he were in a canoe and had placed an oar in the water on that side. He kept the tank moving at ten miles an hour so he wouldn’t have to anticipate a turn too early.

Through the slot, the house came into view. A line of men carrying assault weapons stood between him and the house. The last thing he needed was one of the guards getting a lucky shot that slipped through the view hole and into his eye. He set the tank on a course to barrel into the patio furniture at the back and enter the house through the back windows, where it would drive through the living room and out the front. Once in the main driveway, he planned on turning it around and driving back through the house. He would do this over and over until the house fell down around him or they released Rosina.

Once the tank was positioned, he calculated two minutes to impact. Then he shut and locked the rectangular view slot.

Bullets continued to smack into the body of the tank like rain hitting the roof of a car. He checked the gears, the gas and the steering wheel to make sure nothing had moved and he wasn’t destined for the pool.

Something bumped the tank and it lifted.

The edge of the patio.

Someone shouted with a bullhorn for him to stop the tank and get out.

Yeah, right.

He felt the table and chairs falling victim to the treads and weight of the tank.

Someone pounded on the top of the turret, no doubt attempting to gain entry.

Darwin dropped the clutch, shifted into third gear, and released the clutch. The tank shot forward enough that he felt the thrust.

Glass shattered as he entered the house. The man with the bullhorn sounded like Gambino. He was asking who the fuck was in the tank and what they thought they were doing.

Darwin felt the tank tilt to the right and then drop. He braced himself.

Maybe it’s too heavy for the floor.

He wondered if the house had a basement. If it did, he was done.

But the tank leveled out and continued forward. More gunfire smacked the body of the monster machine. Glass shattered as he drove out through the front of the house. The tank dropped to a forty-five degree angle as it descended through the front flower bed and hit the driveway.

He waited to the count of three and hit the left brake while dropping the clutch and pulling the tank out of gear. It performed what he assumed to be an almost perfect 180 degree turn. He wanted to risk a peek to see where he was aimed, but knew that was certain death. They had to have men holding a bead on the view slot.

He put it into first gear and started forward. Within five feet, the tank hit something hard that slowed it almost to a stop.

What the fuck?

If there was something in his way, then it may be more difficult to shoot at the view slot. He risked a quick glance.

The tank had hit someone’s four-door sedan and driven it into a line of thick trees.

“Shit.”

The tank hadn’t turned enough to aim back at the house after all.

“Where’s reverse?” he whispered to himself.

He slammed the view slot closed and held down the brake on one side. He pulled the clutch and got the engine revving. The screech of metal being torn and shredded accompanied the maneuver. There was resistance at the start of the turn, but after a ten-second fight, the strong tank ripped through the sedan and pulled in line with the house.

He grabbed the view slot and held the edge. He needed one look to make sure he didn’t make another mistake. He breathed in and out fast and waited. No bullets hit the tank. He couldn’t hear anyone on the bullhorn. The only sound was the engine of the tank.

Ready to slam the view slot shut if he saw something he didn’t like, he flipped it open, looked outside and gasped.

Gambino stood by the huge hole in his house holding Rosina with a gun to her temple. He smiled at Darwin.

Darwin shut the view slot and locked it.

He waited. They would have demands.

How’s this going to work out? I didn’t think this part out.

“Shit.”

“Darwin?” Gambino shouted with a bullhorn. “I know you’re in there. Come on out so we can talk.”

Darwin kept the brake on but revved the engine in response.

Does he think I’m stupid? Like I’m just gonna destroy his house and then jump out of the tank for a little chat.

“I’d like to know how you did it. How the hell did you get out of the coffin? I saw the backhoe drop the dirt onto its lid. Tell me, which one of my men helped you? Come on, talk to me or I will have to kill your lovely wife here. Do you want me to kill your wife?”

Darwin slammed the steering wheel. “I sure wish I had a plan here,” he said to himself.

“Darwin, Greg is here too. You remember him, don’t you? Greg Stinsen.”

Darwin sat up straight in the seat.
Greg? How?

“There are three federal officers here who are pretty pissed that you destroyed their car. You literally wrapped it around the trees. Now Darwin, what’s it going to take for you to come out of the tank?”

He was beat. There was nothing left. He could ram the tank back and forth through the house and then drive down the street until the gas ran out, but he wouldn’t have Rosina. They would kill her and Gambino would use the insurance money to rebuild the house. Darwin’s meddling would only be a setback.

For guys like Gambino, setbacks were all he ever had to deal with. For guys like Darwin, setbacks were deadly.

“Okay,” he shouted. “I’ll come out. What assurances do I have?”

“Not many,” he heard. “But with three feds here, you can be assured that the odds are in your favor now.”

How the hell did Greg get here so fast?

Darwin turned the tank’s engine off and got out of the driver’s seat. He crouched low and hobbled to the door at the top of the turret. A quick twist and the door unlocked.

Could he be lying about the feds and Greg really isn’t here?

As soon as he asked himself the question, he realized it still didn’t matter. There was nowhere else to go. Escaping without Rosina was no way to live. If a chance came up, he would take it. Otherwise he would rather die with Rosina than leave her behind.

He pushed open the top and lifted himself up, waiting for the bullets to rain down.

No one moved. No guns were fired.

He estimated over two dozen men stood around the front of the house staring at him. He knew he looked bad. His forehead still had a large bump from the rubber bullet. His T-shirt and shorts were covered in dirt and his hair was tussled up into a mess of filth.

Then he realized that they thought he’d been dead and buried and now he’s attacking the house in an armored tank. He must be a ghost to them.

“This is some pretty sick shit, eh?” Darwin pointed at the house. “That’s fucked.”

Gambino looked over his shoulder at the house. “It’s going to be a month or two to get that repaired.” He turned back to Darwin. “Say hello to our guests.”

Darwin turned and saw three men on their knees. Greg Stinsen kneeled in the middle.

“Hey, Greg. How’s it going?”

“Not good. You think you could kill everyone so we can go have a drink? I’ll buy.”

“Enough,” Gambino shouted. “Darwin, come down off that tank. You have caused me a lot of pain. I can fix a house, but the people coming to buy my German Panther are going to be pissed with what you’ve done to it.”

“I didn’t shoot it up. Your goons did.”

“I said, get down.”

Darwin slid off the turret and climbed down the side. Standing five feet to his left was the man who had shot him in the forehead with the rubber bullets. “I got a score to settle with you, asshole.” Darwin pointed at his head. “This is one fuck of a headache.”

“Gambino,” Greg shouted. “You can’t kill anyone.”

“Oh yeah, and why’s that?”

“Because we’re federal officers. We would be witnesses to murder. I don’t see you getting off on that charge.”

Gambino laughed. A few of his men laughed along with him. Goosebumps formed on Darwin’s arms in the cool breeze. He looked at Rosina. She’d been crying, her eyes red, makeup running. She offered him a smile and mouthed,
I love you.

Darwin shook his head.
Don’t say goodbye yet. It’s not over.

“I can kill who I want. You’re on my property. Darwin here has broken, get it,
broken
, into my house. He’s an intruder. I can shoot him and his wife and have twenty-five witnesses say that’s how it went down. Then I can decide whether or not to kill all three of you. Doesn’t matter to me. Don’t you see?” Gambino let go of Rosina and walked onto the driveway, stepping closer to the three officers. “I’m above the law. I won’t hire a lawyer. I’ll hire a
team
of lawyers and they will parade every one of these men standing around you before the jury. Each man will tell the same story. Then I will give them all a hundred-thousand-dollar bonus, just because I can. That’s what your life means to me.” He stood over the three men on their knees. “Except, of course, I wouldn’t hurt Rudy here, now would I?”

The man on Greg’s right stood up. “No, you wouldn’t dare.”

“Rudy, what the fuck is this?” the man on Greg’s left asked.

“Carson, you asshole, the Russians recruited me before I entered the Bureau.”

While the men talked, Darwin moved closer to the man who shot him before he was put in the pine box. He had a score to settle and he was three feet away now.

“Gambino will be working with the Russians,” Rudy said. “He has successfully passed his initiation rite.”

“Which was?” Carson asked.

“He needed to take out the three rival families in central Ontario and then retire to his home here to meet my people. We thought he’d done that, but then
he
showed up.” Rudy turned and pointed at Darwin. “He fucked everything over. No one knew who he was or where he came from. Gambino’s final task was to grab Darwin, find out who he was and then execute him. But that hasn’t worked out so well, either.”

Darwin took his cue.
We’re all going to die tonight anyway. I have to take as many of them as I can with me.

He lunged at the guy who shot earlier, swift and quiet. His dirty hand came up under the shooter’s chin and drove hard into his Adam’s apple. The guy fell back, collapsed, and grabbed at his throat. As he fell, Darwin ripped his weapon up and over his head, leveling it at Gambino.

Before he could find the safety switch on the weapon, the cold steel of seven guns pressed into his temples and cheeks.

“Move an inch and your face becomes blood pudding,” someone whispered beside him.

Gambino clapped his hands. “Bravo, bravo. What a performance.” He stopped clapping and crossed his arms over his sizable chest. “You really have a will to live, don’t you?”

“Can I speak?” Darwin whispered through clenched teeth. He didn’t want to move lest a bullet ventilate his mouth.

“Step back a foot,” Gambino motioned to his men. “All guns remain aimed at Darwin. Be ready to fire if he flips off the safety.” He addressed Darwin. “Now, you were saying?”

“It’s not a will to live.”

All the men stood rapt, listening to every word. The only sound was the choking and hacking behind him on the ground. Rudy stepped away from his old colleagues who remained on their knees and grabbed a handgun from one of Gambino’s men.

“It’s a will to die with dignity,” Darwin finished.

“Enlighten us. What are you talking about?” Gambino asked.

“My wife and I are going to die tonight. There can be no doubt about that.”

“I agree, but you’re like a fucking cat that keeps coming back. How many lives do you have?”

A few men snickered. A man on his right eased the tip of his weapon onto Darwin’s cheek again. Darwin had to tilt his head a little to avoid the poking.

“My offer to you is this,” Darwin said.

“You have an offer? Interesting.” Gambino looked over at Rudy. “Should we hear him out or just have him turned into fish food?”

“Hear him out,” Rudy said and stepped farther into the shadows behind more of Gambino’s men.