Vito
February 9th 1940
The smell of cheap alcohol was heavy in the air. I suppose it was never too early to drink. Heads snapped toward us, not surprisingly.
We were three big men, in suits. And that meant business. The kind you didn't want to get in the way of. "What's the plan?" His tone was as blank as his expression "split up, look for him." Joe and I locked eyes, and we were both thinking the same thing 'we couldn't afford to mess this up again.'
The young woman looked up as I sat down. She regarded me with a cold expression, years of experience was the only reason I could see the fear in her eyes. She was used to this, her poker face was good, but not good enough.
"Scotch, neat." She nodded. My head tilted as she placed the glass in front of me "I'm going to ask you a question, and you're going to tell me the truth, otherwise things are going to get very ugly." Her features twisted.
"Do you know a man by the name of Alonzo Clemente?" Her eyes widened "yes" barely a whisper, but loud enough to be heard.
"And where can I find him?" She swallowed "he comes every afternoon at the same time." Intriguing. "When?" Her eyes flicker to the clock "ten minutes." I nod, standing from my seat.
"This will stay between us." I don't miss the look of relief on her face as I walk away. The unmistakable sound of gunshots erupt from outside.
Joe and Luca surge forward, I follow behind. And suddenly it's a game of cat and mouse as a car speeds away, tyres burning. There's a different kind of fire in Joe's eyes as he holds the dead, bloody body of Marty, our getaway driver. Barely sixteen.
It's something different now, too. It's revenge. "Luca, take Marty's body back home." The instruction is curt, leaving no room for argument.
And then we're in the car, driving way over the speed limit, gaining on the man we'd been chasing for weeks. Joe drove like a maniac, eyes bloodshot, lips curled into a sneer, every turn was rough and he paid no attention to the people walking.
Joe took a sharp left, I didn't question the fact that we were going a completely different direction from Clemente. Joe knew what he was doing. After series of sharp twists and turns Joe took a sharp left, onto a public service road and slammed the breaks.
Alonzo's car breaked hard. I grinned as he got out. I saw the look on his face. He knew it was over. "Please, please don't" I leaned against the car, Joe inching closer.
"Begging is pathetic." Joe sneered, swiftly putting a bullet through Alonzo's head. "That's more than you deserve."
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