Vitale kept sleeping late... It was already 1:30 in the afternoon. He was exhausted from yesterday's busy day, falling into a deep sleep.
A total silence enveloped his room, illuminated by the warm rays of the sun that filtered through the curtains. But suddenly, the insistent ringing of his phone broke the calm. It was difficult for him to open his eyes, feeling the heaviness on his eyelids, but the call did not stop, forcing him to get up and answer.
With a sigh, he stretched like a lazy cat before reaching for his cell phone.
-Who is speaking? —said Vitale, still yawning and trying to clear his head.
—Vitale! Until you finally pick up," Mark exclaimed, his voice sounding tense on the other end of the line. Sorry to bother you, but I need your help to solve an urgent problem.
Vitale frowned, feeling the drowsiness fading quickly. He sat on the bed, scratching his head as he tried to clear his head.
"Yes, Mark, tell me what's happening this time," he responded, now more alert.
"Listen," Mark sighed, his voice thick with tension. I need you to take care of a criminal gang. I know it sounds very heavy, but if you think about it, you can solve it.
Vitale remained silent, surprise surfacing in his mind as he let Mark continue.
"Those bastards are ruining my plans," Mark continued, his frustration palpable. They're taking all the substances, you know what I mean. We have to get them out of the competition.
Vitale frowned, feeling a mixture of uneasiness and defiance.
—Yes, Mark, I understood you. "Tell me how I can get rid of them," he replied, trying to stay calm as he processed what he was about to get involved with.
"Those good-for-nothings take over the city's fish trucks to go unnoticed," Mark explained, his voice strained. But that truck is not full of fish, but of illegal substances. They bribe or extort the person who takes care of the trucks. Get one of those trucks and then you can put a bomb inside.
Vitale frowned, processing the gravity of what was being asked of him.
—Where do I find the trucks? -asked
—You can wait on Bloody Street; Those trucks pass there supposedly transporting "fish". Nearby is the base of the criminal gang. You know what to do.
"Yes, I'll take care of the rest," Vitale replied, trying to keep his voice steady despite the chaos that was coming.
—Okay, Vitale. I hope you can solve it. If you succeed, I will pay you more than I usually give you.
Vitale heard the last words before hanging up the phone. He had a hard day ahead of him and he had to prepare for what was to come.
Vitale stared into nothingness, his mind working in a whirlwind of plans and possibilities. He imagined every scenario, every step he had to take, as if he were projecting a movie in his head.
Once he finished analyzing the situation, he slowly stood up, feeling the weight of the decision on his shoulders. He grabbed a leftover bite, briefly savoring the taste before swallowing it hastily. He grabbed his jacket from the chair, feeling the fabric rub against his skin as a reminder of reality.
With one last look around the room, Vitale knew he was ready to begin this difficult mission. Adrenaline began to flow through his veins as he headed towards the door, prepared to face what awaited him.
Vitale determinedly got into his car, muttering to himself, "I have to go see Dimitri." The words came out as a whisper, but they were charged with purpose.
He started the engine, feeling the vibration of the vehicle give him a small boost of confidence as he headed toward the Dimitri house. With every kilometer I traveled, anxiety mixed with adrenaline.
Finally, he reached his destination. The unmistakable worn-out mobile home appeared before him.
Dimitri was outside his RV, sitting in a sun-worn plastic chair. His gaze locked on Vitale as he approached, recognizing the determination in his walk.
"Hello," Vitale greeted, bluntly. You know what I'm coming for.
"No, I don't know," Dimitri answered in a nonchalant tone, but his eyes betrayed a spark of curiosity. Maybe you're here to buy something illegal, but I'm not sure what exactly.
Dimitri smiled knowingly. I think we are already good partners.
"Aha, yes," Vitale said with a slight smile. "I heard, I come to negotiate for a bomb and a grenade, a bomb that can destroy a medium-sized base."
"Wow, you're about to cause a fuss," Dimitri said jokingly. "Yes, I have what you're looking for." Wait for me out here.
Vitale watched as he got up and entered his house, sounds could be heard, as if he were searching through many things.
"Uh-huh, yes," Vitale said with a slight smile, trying to hide the seriousness of his request. I come to negotiate for a bomb, one that is capable of taking out a medium base.
"Wow, it looks like you're about to cause a real ruckus," Dimitri replied jokingly, although his eyes reflected a hint of seriousness. Yes, I have what you are looking for. Wait for me out here.
Vitale watched as Dimitri stood up with a nonchalant air, but deep down he knew that this negotiation was anything but trivial. As Dimitri entered the house, Vitale felt the weight of silence around him. From inside, noises of objects moving could be heard, as if Dimitri was searching through a maze of things.
Finally, Don Dimitri left his house with a medium bomb in his hand and a grenade hanging from his belt.
—Is this what you're looking for? he asked, carefully lifting the bomb. A medium bomb capable of causing absolute chaos. Be careful when using it; Stay far enough away or cover yourself with something.
"Perfect, it's just what I needed," Vitale responded, feeling momentary relief.
"It's 1,050 for these beauties," Dimitri said, his deep voice ringing with authority.
Vitale took out the money and handed it to him quickly, feeling the weight of the objects in his hands. As he walked away, he muttered to himself, "If everything goes well, I will earn much more than expected." Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and a smile spread across his face as he imagined the possibilities that lay before him.
Vitale drove to Sanguinaria Street. He stopped on the side of the road, watching as several vehicles passed at high speed, creating a constant hum that filled the air.
"Well, I have to wait for one of those trucks to pass by," he muttered to himself. I need to get hold of one. Damn, I'll have to leave my car here.
He remembered Mark's words about the nearby base; It wasn't that far away. "I can come back for my car later," he thought, trying to convince himself that everything would be okay. Adrenaline was running through his veins.
"Luckily I brought my M9 pistol," Vitale said, stroking the handle of the weapon hanging from his hip. This will make it easier to take the truck from one of them.
However, a worry assailed him. "But how will I transport all this?" he thought, frowning. "When I get the truck, I'll think about it more calmly," he told himself, trying to calm his mind.
He got out of the car and stood, carefully observing the street. Sunlight shone on the asphalt and the sound of roaring engines filled the air. He looked both ways, making sure no trucks were approaching. Every second seemed like an eternity.
"How much longer will I have to wait here?" —he asked himself, frustrated, as he looked at his watch again and again, feeling how impatience was eating him up inside.
Suddenly, in the distance, he saw a blue truck approaching, one of those that transported fish.
"It's probably one of those," Vitale murmured, feeling a surge of adrenaline course through his body. I'm ready.
With every step he took toward the edge of the road, he mentally reviewed his plan. He was making sure his gun was well positioned and that he could act quickly, as the truck slowly approached.
Before the truck crossed completely, Vitale stood in front of it, feeling a strange calm. I was not afraid; He had been in worse situations, facing dangers that would make anyone tremble.
The truck slammed to a stop, the sound of the horn echoing loudly in the air. Vitale looked at the driver with a defiant and serious expression.
—Park there! Vitale shouted, his voice firm.
—And who are you to force me? —replied the driver, with a mixture of disbelief and challenge in his eyes.
Vitale took a decisive step toward the truck and stood next to the driver's window. The man stared at him, his eyes filled with surprise and disdain, as the tension between them grew palpable.
"You're not a police officer to give me that order," the driver said, his voice shaking slightly.
"And this truck doesn't carry fish," Vitale replied seriously, his gaze fixed on the man's eyes. Come on, obey.
With a swift movement, Vitale opened his jacket, revealing the handle of his pistol. The driver was shocked at that moment; a bead of sweat slid down his forehead, betraying his nervousness.
—Okay, calm down, friend. "I'm parking now," he responded, trying to stay calm while his heart was pounding.
The driver seemed torn between fear of the gun and the disturbing revelation that Vitale knew the truck was not carrying fish.