It felt like the entire place was on fire and the men who came one after the other to deliver to my table bad news, were demons from hell. Rodrigo Sampha had been shot, Caputo was nowhere to be found and the grumpy leprechauns hide in my bunker just in case.
At times like this, a full-on invasion can be expected at any time, from anyone, by anyone.
In my office, I. made a few calls to call on a few foreign favors to cover my now open ass. I picked up my gun from my drawer, a pistole which slept on top of my table, and a tommy gun, like Tony Montana's on my lap, covered with a tablecloth, just in case any of these bastards wanted to have a go at me. It was a big office, about fifty yards in length and nearly the same breadthwise. Now that I think of it, I wonder what I needed all that space for. A man of mine walked in, he took a good moment to get to me and it clicked. That was why the office was so big, it was the feeling of intimidation that it gave them as they walked towards me. It was a powerful feeling to stare anyone down the way that I did, and I needed that power now. "Don Vicente, the Irishmen are complaining, they would like to come out and fight for themselves." He said, "Tell them, Titi, that they are welcome to fight if that is what they want." Titi had served me a great deal in my gardens, he knew this villa more than even I did. He knew what to do.
Minutes later, and the Irish were in there with me, they were a people of very little style, with their hair always combed backwards. The smell of gel filled the room as soon as they entered but I was too concerned other things to bother. "Please sit," I said pointing at the seats. All six of them, holding on to their guns and acting like they owned the place. I needed the hand and their gun and their bodies, so I let them stay while we waited for the possible worst to happen. We all lit up cigars and made smoked the room wild in anticipation. Calm nerves would help us, because I might be the bringer of death but even, I don't know what awaits at the other side so I must be prepared lest I go too soon. "Who are they, the men that want to invade your home?" asked Connelly. He was the spokesperson of the group, the only one who could speak Italian. His fluent grace in the tongue was a thing of surprise to me and I wondered if he ever lived in Italy. I had the maids pour them all a drink to keep their spirits high. Some men had a way of making things easier, a subtlety to the way they behaved that drew you closer to them, some might even call it a natural fixing, others might call it a charm and whatever it was called did not change the fact that there was a softness about it and boy did I need that bit of softness in the apparent hardness of my present. "Have you ever been in a police chase mister Connelly?" I said, walking towards him, I liked to communicate up close, it was the best way to know what sort of person I was dealing with. People did not get it, but I did, it was easier to tell the truth from a person's face, through their eyes than just listening to them. "No." he responded, "I suppose you have made fair good choices and carried yourself well enough." I neared him, he stood firm, not wanting to be shaken. "I suppose so." He said looking up to me. "In my time, I had made a few swift getaways that nearly took me and the police down. I remember this one like it was yesterday. It was perhaps the very first heist, my very first getaway gig as a driver. You can imagine now the tension involved can you not?" "Barely, your experience is yours alone to tell." He said as he followed me out of the office, the rest of his men followed slowly, matching our pace, step for step. "The then chief of police was a friend of my soon to be adopted father, I could have gotten away with it you know, if I got caught, but there was something about running away that felt just right. I wanted the men behind me to trust me, you understand what I mean?" Connelly was a little man, but he took care of himself, he smelt better than the others, he spoke better than the other, even when he spoke English, I was impressed by him. "I suppose I do."
"Good. So, you know what it means to be trusted." I said, searching his eyes for the slightest of details not to believe him. But he did not budge, it was either he was skilled at this, or he was genuine, and that was something I was going to find out."
Outside, the tension died down, my residence seemed to be a lot more relaxed than I expected. At this point, it seemed to me that I had failed yet again in making the right choice amongst my one million choices. But I held on to the tommy gun proudly. Titi came running back to me and my panic came rushing back to me, there was a young woman behind him, she, and a couple of older women, she was sweaty like she had just come from a long walk, they were all sweating. "Don Vicente, Caputo has made contact." Said Titi. I was overjoyed at the news, I really was, but I was distracted by this woman whom I had never seen here before "who is that the one in the blue sundress?" I asked moving toward her. I wanted to see her up close, she was stunning, and I wanted to know more about her. She walked with so much grace and care about the way she walked. It was brilliant. "She is Gabriella Santiago, Caputo's younger sister, he sent her here to bring news about his well-being."
"To the point Titi, always go straight to the point with me."