Page 50 of Pregnant By the Mafia Boss

“What? Who has her?” one of the soldiers asks, everyone strapping up.

“A reckless criminal fresh out of the pen. He’s erratic, and the underboss to Luca Marino. We need to be careful, because Fiona’s his niece.”

“What’s the location?” another asks as I turn on the freeway, heading out of town to the Fort Elion airbase. It was abandoned in the late eighties, and nobody’s used it since.

“It’s the old airbase, about forty minutes out. Let’s talk this one through before we get out of there. Our main objective is getting Fiona out—alive.”

All I can think about is Fiona and if she’s okay and not too distressed. I don’t want her losing the baby so close to full term, or because of this fool’s bullshit, making her miscarry. I realize all I care about is her health and safety.

Hang on, Fiona. I’m coming for you.I study the map and angles, orchestrating which entry points we can implement a sneak attack from.

“Sergey, I’m going to drop you off in the field to cover the back. Roberto’s not operating alone. He’s going to have a crew. I know his type. And he’s probably had this crew in place since when he was on the inside.”

I keep checking the map, thinking it might re-route and there would be a snag in the plan, but it runs smooth, as I hit the accelerator wanting to cut as much time as I can.

“Arnie, I want you up front with me. Shoot to fucking kill. No hesitation. Just like I taught you,” I remind him as I slip down the skinny asphalt road, leading into the middle of nowhere, right outside Chicago, heading in Aurora’sdirection.

“Got it,” he replies, not one of the team members showing any fear. Perfect. It’s not a trait I like in my Bratva recruits anyway. Successfully locating the old airbase, I abandon our two vehicles, splitting our Bratva soldiers up into teams of two between Mark and I. Silently, I signal them into place, watching as they scatter to strategic points around the hangar, building what I call a human spiderweb. I check in with Mark, my gun cocked, using my binoculars to find the best point to enter.

Mark points to the far left of the building, a small red door standing out. “That’s your safest bet. It might be a little obvious, but try that first. If not, shoot out the back or side windows, and we can climb in there and unlock from the inside,” he directs.

“Good idea. We’ve got two minutes before things will start to shake. Let’s hope our Bratva soldiers are trained enough to be able to handle Roberto’s crew. I don’t know who’s inside.”

“Me neither, but they’re going to be fine,” Mark reassures as I stay low, my gun cocked and ready to shoot whoever I need to in order to get to Fiona and the baby. I hit the entry point I saw, perspiring a little, having to do no legwork. The dummies left the side door open.

Stupid move. Inside, I let my eyes adjust to the dim lighting, moving lightly through to a kitchen, finding a man slurping his soup. Without hesitation, I shoot. I’ve already got a visual on Roberto so I know it’s not him. Two of my men find me, and I point forward to an open door, which opens out to the aircraft hangar. The place is silent as I meet up with Mark.

“I think the party’s going to be in the back offices. You ready?”

“I am.” I have on my bulletproof vest, but it’s not enough if I get shot in the face, but I’ll take my chances. Mark and I jog side by side, busting through doors into a back office where we find Roberto, pointing to a TV screen and talking to his crew.

“See here. This is where I knew he last buried it. He told me years ago—”

Raising my gun, I bare my teeth. Mark covers my back as gunshots ring out in the middle of the aircraft hangar. “Sucks to be this stupid fresh out of prison, Roberto.”

Roberto puts his hands up in surrender, but just as he quickly draws his gun, pulling the trigger, the bullet whips past my ear as I lunge inwards at him, and gunshots ping around the room. Roberto’s steady enough to fist fight, even though I’ve already knocked the gun from his hand. He lands a sharp right hook, and it hits me in center of my shoulder, causing me to stumble backwards, the sharp, acute pain cutting into it.

I gasp, sweat lining my brow as I recover. I hear Mark shooting behind me as Roberto runs out the back door behind him.

“You fucking bastard!” he calls out, on the run through the open area, giving Mark and me more room to play with.

Mark fires off a round as Roberto’s crew are hot on our heels, shooting at us. Mark finds a large oil barrel, kneeling behind it, and picking them off one by one. Avoiding the crossfire of bullets, I wait for the right moment, finding it as Roberto stumbles, heading towards the front of the hangar. Tackling him, I bring him to the ground, knowing he doesn’t have a gun.

He squirms as I sit on him, pointing the gun dead in the middle of his chest. “Where’s Fiona?” I breathe heavily. Delirium sets in as Roberto croaks with laughter.

“I’m not telling you where she is until you give me the Omerta files.”

“I’m about to kill you, and you’re asking me for the Omerta files?”

“Yes, that’s precisely what I’m doing, and if you were in my position, you would do the same.”

“No. See that’s where you’re wrong. I wouldn’t. She’s your blood.”

“And you’re not. She’s the one who betrayed the Marinos, not me,” he manages to squeeze out, my weight on his stomach making it difficult.

“If you didn’t have your prison sentence extended, your plan might have come to fruition, so technically it’s your fault.” I crack Roberto in the nose for good measure, blood gushing from it as he yelps

“Fuck! What was that for?”

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