Page 89 of Code Name: Michelangelo

“My experience is vastly different.” I turned and looked out the passenger window, fearing I was in way over my head.

“Listen, without you, this whole thing is a no-go. Sure, Typhon has his ins with the crime families, but you’re the rainmaker. They pay him money while you make it for them.”

I supposed he was right; however, I knew as well as anyone that my head was not as in the game as it should be.

As Blackjack said, Typhon was the commander of the mission, which Nemesis reinforced. It aggravated her annoyance that the man was thirty minutes late to the briefing she’d scheduled.

Whether Tank had received a call similar to the ones Blackjack and I had, I couldn’t say. However, none of the three of us confessed knowing when he planned to arrive.

When Typhon did show up, the first thing he did was ask Nem if she was finished. When she said she was, he requested Tank, Blackjack, and me to join him in the solarium.

The coalition commander’s mouth gaped. “Typhon, you cannot be serious.”

“I was unaware you wished to be included.”

Her face turned red, and she clenched her fists at her sides. “A moment, please.”

Rather than go into the solarium, she led him into the library and closed the door. When they came out a few minutes later, Typhon walked toward us while Nemesis went in the opposite direction.

“Let’s go,” he said, motioning us in the direction of the front door. I’d dropped my bag in the foyer when I came in, anticipating we’d fly out today. It appeared Tank and Blackjack had too.

“Hey, Typhon,” we heard Ares shout just as we were getting in the SUV.

Typhon, who got behind the wheel, ignored him.

“We’ll have plenty of time to chat on the plane. My brief was short, anyway. Brand, have you prepared anything?”

“Not formally.”

Typhon laughed. “My favorite kind. Informal, without all the bullshit.”

“Tank and Blackjack, as you read in my preliminary report, the two of you will act as my bodyguards and speak only when spoken to by me. Only Brand and I will interact directly with either family. If anyone interacts with you directly, look to me, and I’ll handle it. Otherwise, use regular secure communication channels. From this moment on, I am Benito Carpinelli, and he is Brando Ripa. Understood?”

Both men voiced their agreement.

“As far as your boss is concerned?—”

“You’re the boss for this mission,” Tank—the only man close in size to Typhon—interjected. “Ares is as clear on that as everyone else.”

Typhon glanced over at me and smirked. “Nem might not agree, but as you can tell, I don’t give a shit.”

I had no intention of getting mixed up in whatever disagreements the two had. I wasn’t a member of the coalition nor MI6. Once my job was complete, I was out. I’d made my wishes clear to Doc and Merrigan, adding that I would take on all assignments they gave me.

During the three-hour flight, I talked about my previous interactions with the Sicilian Syndicate as well as everything that had gone down with the Calabrians.

“My expectation when you have the goods on their rivals is Prince will do everything he can to get you to make rain for them,” said Typhon.

If my life depended on choosing one syndicate or another to become an official member of, I’d most likely choose death. If that wasn’t an option, I’d go with the Calabrians. Valerio Scaglione aka Prince seemed the lesser of two evils. He should’ve killed me for the scam I’d pulled on him, but he didn’t.

Gerlando Battaglia aka Macellaio would’ve chopped my body into pieces to be boxed up and sent to my family. Which is exactly what would happen to me if the Sicilian figured out I wasn’t an independent art forger anymore or that I was working with law enforcement.

“Gentlemen, please excuse us,” Typhon said to Tank and Blackjack. “Second thoughts?” he asked once they were near the rear of the private plane SIS had made available to us.

“I wouldn’t put it that way.”

He studied me but didn’t speak.

“The stakes are higher. Five years ago, I didn’t give a shit what happened to myself or anyone else. At least not until Tara got involved. Back then, it was all about destroying my father. If the same happened to me while I was at it, I told myself I didn’t care.”

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