Vitale left the building after the chat with Mark, feeling the fresh air of the city. He breathed a deep sigh, as if trying to release the accumulated tension before getting into the car.
He took the map out of his jacket, he felt the wrinkled texture of the paper between his fingers. He carefully unfolded it on the steering wheel, searching for the location of Dimitri's workshop. The streets were drawn before him like a labyrinth, but he soon identified the path he should take.
Once he was clear about how to get there, he started the Renault engine. The sound of the engine echoed in his ears... Finally he set off towards his destination.
The gentle wind caressed the well-kept garden, where vibrantly colored flowers bloomed in the sunlight, Don Geovanny Bellini sat at the table, enjoying a creamy risotto that evoked his Italian roots. The aroma of the dish filled the air, a reminder of his family traditions, as his daughter Lucia watched him with a mixture of resignation and discontent.
Lucía, with her hair tied up in a bun, couldn't help but feel that that lunch was a reflection of their differences. He did not agree with the decisions his father had made throughout his life; Their dirty jobs were a taboo subject among them. She was a peaceful girl, with clear goals, who longed for a future far from criminal.
An awkward silence settled on the table, heavy as air before a storm. Suddenly, one of Don Bellini's men approached and whispered something in his ear. Bellini nodded, his expression changing instantly, and stood up determinedly. Heading outside with his companion.
With the sight of their enviable garden, they began to chat about the problems, as they progressed the calm of the surroundings faded.
—Is what you told me true? —Bellini asked, his deep voice echoing with a mixture of disbelief and anger.
His man stared at him, without hesitation.
—Yes, that's right.
Bellini remained dry, his eyes twinkling intensely. He stood firmly, heaving a sigh that seemed to carry the full weight of his frustration.
—I see... Dante Rossi wants to play dirty. Then we will play; I will show you who the boss of the city is —Bellini said.
While the two bosses had conflicts with each other, Luca Vitale arrived at his destination, a somewhat desolate place. With piles of rusty metal and rickety pieces scattered on the floor, in the center, an old and worn mobile home.
—There must be found Dimitri —said Vitale, his voice echoing with determination.
He moved towards the motorhome, each step echoing in the dusty dirt of the ground, as if the place itself was watching him. The screech of metal as it moved and the crunch of dry branches under its feet created a symphony that accompanied its advance.
He stood in front of the mobile home and knocked on the door. There was a brief silence, interrupted only by the flapping of wings of birds flying above him
Finally, Mr. Dimitri opened the door. He was a burly man, with a thick mustache and his hair with messy waves that fell to his shoulders. His clothes, somewhat dirty and wrinkled.
—What is offered to you? —Dimitri asked, with a deep, raspy voice.
Vitale looked him up and down, taking note of the man's disheveled appearance.
—I'm just coming to buy you something —responded, keeping his tone neutral.
Dimitri analyzed it with an inquisitive look, hoping that Vitale would clarify what he was looking for.
—I need a bomb with control, you know, the ones you decide when to explode —said Vitale, with a tense calm in his voice.
—Yes, I know what you're talking about... Come in —Dimitri replied, opening the door a little more and letting Vitale in.
Crossing the threshold, Vitale found absolute chaos. The mobile home was full of clutter; Spilled coffee stained the table, and yellowish papers accumulated everywhere, mixed with wrinkled and forgotten clothes.
Vitale frowned as he looked at the place, it was a reflection of the man in front of him.
—Do you always keep your space like this? —Vitale asked, trying to break the ice—. I don't think someone like you doesn't have the money to live like this.
Dimitri looked at him with a raised eyebrow, without saying a word, he moved towards a messy corner and took out a small, dust-covered bomb. I walk towards him and let her fall with a dull thud on the table.
—Sure I have money, but if you sell illegal things to gangs or mafias, you're not looking to get attention —Dimitri responded, with solid confidence.
Vitale smiled at her response.
—Here's what you're looking for —Continued— is $750.
Vitale took out the money Mark had given him from his jacket, feeling the crumpled paper between his fingers. With a determined gesture, he placed the bills on the table in front of Dimitri, watching as the man quickly counted the amount.
—It was a pleasure doing this business —said Vitale, as his eyes fell on the small but powerful bomb he was now holding in his hands—. I must go now. Maybe we'll meet again.
He headed towards the exit. The bomb was more than just an object; It represented an opportunity and a risk that could change everything.
Dimitri looked at him with an indecipherable expression, as if he was assessing whether Vitale was trustworthy or just another customer on his list.
Vitale got into the Renault. Without thinking much, he headed towards the essence cafeteria. A place I knew perfectly well.
Finally he arrived at the cafeteria. He parked right in front, feeling the engine shut down. He looked at his watch; It was 4:45 pm there was still a little more to go until the meeting.
He waited as long as necessary, watching through the windshield as people passed by, absorbed in their own lives. He imagined different scenarios in which he would find himself.
Finally, Vitale saw a classic black Chevrolet arrive, with its shiny body reflecting the afternoon sun. The two red stripes painted on the back left no doubt; It was Carter's car.
Vitale settled better into the seat of the Renault, making sure to better observe the situation from a safe distance, Carter got out of the car, wearing a light blue shirt with a palm tree design that contrasted with his long dark blue pants, a carefree style.
After a while two other men arrived and approached Carter with serious expressions. Words were exchanged quietly; Although she couldn't hear what they were saying, Vitale noticed the tension in their gestures, as if they were discussing something important. After a few moments, the three headed towards the entrance of the cafeteria.
Once Carter walked in, Vitale felt it was time to act. He got out of the car and, without completely losing sight of Carter, began to approach the classic Chevrolet. Each step was a calculation; I knew I had to be cautious but determined.
He managed to get completely close to Carter's car. He looked around, scanned every corner to make sure no one was watching him. The cafeteria seemed quiet, but he was sure that any curious look could ruin his plan.
Once convinced that everything was going well, he bent down and got under the classic Chevrolet, feeling the cold of the ground pass through his clothes. He took the bomb out of his jacket; small but effective. He placed her in a safe place under the car, making sure she didn't fall while moving.
With every second I spent under the car, the tension increased and the noises outside seemed to amplify; distant laughter, the sound of a door closing, footsteps echoing on the sidewalk. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he emerged from under the vehicle and stood up cautiously.
Once upright, he once again inspected the surroundings; His eyes scanned every shadow and every human figure for any hint of suspicion. Returning to his Renault carefully, he heaved a deep sigh; It had been quite a challenge to overcome that situation without being seen. But now he had gone through the most difficult part; We had to wait and see how things developed.
With control of the bomb in her hands, Vitale waited patiently for Carter to leave the cafeteria. The minutes seemed eternal as he watched through the fogged-up glass of his Renault. Finally, Carter pushed the door and walked out, a carefree expression on his face.
Vitale stared at him, every fiber of his being concentrated in that crucial moment. Carter approached his Chevrolet with a firm step; everything was in its place. When the man opened the door and prepared to enter, Vitale let out a crooked smile. It was now or never.
Without thinking twice, he pressed the bomb button. In an instant, a deafening roar echoed throughout the place as the Chevrolet burst into flames. The rear wheel shot out like a projectile engulfed in fire.
The air was filled with the smell of burning gunpowder and melted metal; The people around shouted and rushed to the ground, terrified by what had just happened, Vitale felt a mixture of adrenaline and satisfaction as he saw how his plan was executed perfectly.
As the echoes of chaos echoed in his ears. Staring at the flames devouring the Chevrolet, he knew this was just the beginning.
"He closed his last business without knowing it".
Vitale muttered with a cold smile before leaving, not feeling the slightest bit of pity. He was a guy who knew what he wanted, and at that moment, he had achieved it. Leaving behind only ashes.