Pete Harrison arrived at the precinct and jumped from his truck. He strutted purposefully into the police station.
The desk officer was a man with a goatee that stood out in his compact birdlike face, and eyes that stank of boredom. His lips curved in a patronizing, practiced smile as Pete walked up to him. "How may I help you, sir" he asked mechanically.
"I want to report a kidnapping incident. My girlfriend has been kidnapped by a guy who claims he is a mafia boss, and he has her locked up in his estate." Pete rambled nervously. Quite on edge as he spoke. The police officer didn't seem to catch his words. He leaned both palms in the air, pressing them downwards slowly. A gesture for Pete to calm down.
Pete paused, then he inhaled and exhaled. The little action brought a bit of calm to his mind.
"Now you can tell me what happened" the officer said. Raising his gaze to him expectantly.
Then Pete began to narrate everything that had happened to the police officer, watching quietly as whatever enthusiasm the police officer showed before miraculously faded away at his mention of Raphael Mancini.
When he was done with his narration, the police officer looked up at him with bored eyes. "I'll have some men on it in a bit. You can drop your contact, so I can put a call through to you when we find her", the police officer said.
"Why do I feel you aren't going to do anything about this case, officer", Pete said, his voice on a rise. The police officer looked up to Pete from the file he was reading, his face crumbled in a grimace. "I told you I would have men on it as soon as I could. There are no free officers in the office at the moment. The first two detectives that walk through that door, I will dispatch them on the case. Your girlfriend was kidnapped by a man named Raphael Mancini, right?"
"Yeah", Pete answered reluctantly.
"Then rest assured sir, we will get her for you" the officer forced a smile, trying to look kind.
At the same moment, two men in nearly identical shirts and slacks entered the hall, striding gingerly in their direction. They wore their badges in their chest pockets. Pete was elated at their arrival. Finally, Elena would be rescued.
"Since they are now here. Can we go rescue my girlfriend now", Pete directed at the desk officer.
"What is he talking about?", one of the detectives asked.
"He claims Raphael Mancini kidnapped his girlfriend and is planning to murder her father"
"Raphael Mancini is a respectable senor in this city, sir. You must be mistaken," the first detective said. The other detective said nothing, but his expression very much agreed with his colleague.
Pete was confused. One moment he was happy that they were going to do something to rescue Elena and her father, and the next, they were supporting the very criminal that had them locked up. "Raphael Mancini is no respectable man. He is a despicable Mafia boss who thinks he can get away with whatever he wants. I know he is bribing you and your bosses. Stop trying to whitewash him", Pete snarled at the officers.
"I think you are delusional, sir, and I suggest you leave the station instantly. You can't go about accusing anyone of committing a crime", the first detective returned.
"You all are the ones who are delusional, whitewashing a known Mafia boss as a saint and respectable citizen. You can't ask me to leave the station, I pay my damn taxes", Pete yelled.
"And so do I, sir, and so does senor Raphael Mancini" the officer said, then he pushed Pete away from the front desk, shoving him forcefully towards the door. "Get the hell out of here mister, you are taking up a lot of space."
Pete tried to hold his ground, but against the detective's strength, he was no better than a broom stick. The detective threw him from the hall, planting his massive body in the doorway, so that Pete couldn't come in. "You were right, I probably was whitewashing senor Raphael Mancini earlier. He is a Mafia boss. But the city is happy when senor Raphael is happy, and if your girl makes him happy, then he could as well keep her."
Since the police wouldn't help him, Pete turned grudgingly towards his truck. He had to find another way to rescue Elena and her father.
There was only one way to rescue Elena and her father now, Pete thought. He watched the estate closely, in the evening of that same day, searching for a way in. Since the police wouldn't help, his only option was to break in and rescue them himself. He searched hard around the stone fences and the iron-studded gates, but he couldn't find a suitable way in. The stone fences were high and sturdy, he would definitely hurt himself climbing them. The area of the gate was also too open. He would be spotted the instant he attempted to climb.
The idea of breaking in was ridiculous in the first place and impossible, but Pete felt he had to do something to rescue Elena and her father, else they might probably spend the rest of their lives on this estate. He wouldn't give up on Elena, she was his woman. He checked out the walls again, and the gate. The walls still remained his best and safest way in. He beat his fist into different areas of the walls, checking for weak spots.
He beamed with triumph when a portion of the wall churned out specks of rubble after he jammed his fist against it. He was an experienced mountain-climber, and with that knowledge, he ascended the walls. He grabbed onto a strong stone with his hands and hauled himself up, planting a foot on another protruding stone, and then his other feet, keeping himself steady on the wall. Moving that way, he made his way to the top of the fence, and descended slowly onto the other side. He couldn't risk jumping, he was afraid someone might pick up on the noise.
He dropped carefully onto the ground, sheltering in the little darkness of the cypress trees and the field of undergrowth that surrounded them.
Illumination came from the massive mansion at the center of the property as well as the maze of chalets, and a number of smaller buildings around. The moonlight and the little lights from the chalets, cabins and the buildings did much to reveal the burly-bodied men, wearing handguns on their belts around their waist as they roamed the estate grounds purposefully, sniffing for any intruder. The sight of the guns dropped a warning on Pete's mind, reminding him of how risky the mission was. He was tempted to give up on the mission, but he thought about Elena spending the night on this estate. He thought of the mental and emotional torture she would go through in the hands of Raphael Mancini, and he shook away the thought of retreating, or aborting the mission. He continued into the property, hiding behind the trees, and keeping clear of the guards as best as he could. With the advantage of his lanky figure and smaller physique, he managed to completely evade the guards. Crouching low, he raced fast across the cobbled stones of the driveway, without being seen, and continued towards the mansion. Still crouched low, he followed the trail of lights spilling from the rooms onto the sidewalks and extending to the lawn of manicured grass around the massive building, then he found a likely empty room. There were no shadows spilling from the room. Pete leaned higher, checking out the room from the window. He had guessed right, the room was empty. The large bed had no one on it, and it was tidied and undisturbed. The leather armchair in the room was also empty. Slowly, and gradually, he pushed the glass windows open noiselessly until it was enough to accommodate him. Heaving himself up, he slipped into the room. He dropped carefully onto the rug on the floor. He shut the window, moving immediately to the door. He pulled the door knob gently, and leaned his neck out to assess the corridor. A thick arm shot out from somewhere, pulling him fast out of the room, throwing him roughly into the corridor. Pete tethered on his unsteady feet at first, before falling on the tiled floor. He looked up. He was surrounded by big muscular men. They had known of his presence on the property for a long time. He found nothing on their faces to hint at the surprise of seeing him.
Then two of the men picked him up from the floor like he weighted next to nothing. They dragged him along a wide stretch into the expansive living room, and there Raphael Mancini was waiting for him, seated proudly on a sectional as he had done that afternoon, his lips stretched in a cynical grin.