Page 85 of Chubs

Emilio chuckles carelessly, but his drivers take a step forward, hands hovering under their suit coats, stopping Ruzzo’s advance.

“We think alike, young Zanettis. Maybe you would have made good capos. You certainly had us chasing our tails for a while there. Unfortunately, by doing that, we’ve made even bigger enemies of the Bianchis, and our numbers are now reduced. You’ve made a mess of things for us, and that can’t be forgiven,” Emilio says in a chilling voice.

“You ordered Dario Bianchi’s death, so I’m thinking that’s why they’re your enemy and not something you think I may have done,” I respond.

“Then you understand how I deal with people who cross me. They aren’t left alive to do it twice,” Emilio says.

“We took out several of their men lately, and now I’m pissed that it was you we should have eliminated. We need to cut our losses and get busy rebuilding. You won’t be the only ones to pay for your crimes, though. You’ve made a deadly mistake in thinking you could take us on and win. Everyone you love will pay,” Rocky states while staring at me with dead eyes.

With a slight flick of his hand, Emilio signals his men. The first shot rings out, and Ruzzo hits the ground, round hole in the middle of his forehead. Second shot takes down Vetter, but he’s alive long enough to scream before the third shot stops the noise.

When I see the handguns being raised, I shove Les toward the side of the van. He scrambles behind it as I follow on his heels. At this point, all hell breaks loose. Bullets are tinging off the van and ground around my brother and me. Forcing Les behind the engine block the best I can, I lean out enough to see all six Vero men advancing.

A barrage of bullets comes from all directions around us, and yet none hit the men. It stops their approach, though, and has them spinning in every direction, looking for where the shots came from. Several more shots ring out, striking the ground near their feet, and the men start to retreat toward their cars.

I’m stunned because several of my club brothers are great shots, especially Pooh, but my surprise ends quickly enough. Blue and red flashing lights descend on the vacant lot from three directions. My brother and I, along with the Veros, are quickly surrounded by SWAT vehicles. I instantly drop my handgun and order Les to do so too, then we raise our hands high, still keeping the van between us and the Vero men.

Emilio and Rocky race toward their car, firing at the police vehicles as they go. They make it inside, start the car, and spin in a half-circle before speeding toward the exit. The other four men try to make the same move but get cut off by a SWAT vehicle. Police, rifles lifted, bail out of the vehicle, and quickly have the four men subdued.

A rifle barks, making each of the cops dive for cover, but it’s Emilio’s car tire that’s the intended target. A second round is immediately fired, and the car swerves then crashes into an electric pole, bringing it to a harsh halt. When no more gunshots ring out, several cops converge on the wrecked car. Within moments, Emilio and Rocky are cuffed and being led away. The other cops scan the area while fanning out, searching for the shooter.

During this, Horse climbed from the van and is standing in the same position as I am, hands raised. Two SWAT members approach cautiously, bright lights in our eyes, rendering it hard to see. None of us resist when they push us up against the van and cuff us.

While the numerous cops secure the scene, I hear Harleys fired up and riding away in the distance. I stay leaning against the van, silent, until an officer pulls me around to face him.

“I’m Lt. Peters. I’m in charge of the Chicago Police Department SWAT Team. Your name?”

“Adriano Zanetti.”

“What happened here tonight?” he asks.

“I can show you everything. It’s all on the dash camera,” Horse informs the SWAT leader.

The Lieutenant nods at another officer who listens to Horse for a moment, enters the van, and returns with the small camera.

“You’ll be transported to the station until we can view this and sort through the crime scene,” Lieutenant Peters informs us before calling over another officer to help.

Hours later, Horse, Les, and myself are released after answering some questions and handing over our phone numbers. The van has been released back to us, so we load up and head back to our hotel. Exhausted, I enter my room and find Cash and Rex sitting at the small table.

“Where’s everyone else?” I ask as Les brushes past on his way to the bathroom.

“Next room over, catching up on sleep,” Rex answers, looking up from his laptop for a moment.

“You look like shit, Chubs,” Cash states without looking up from his meal.

“Yeah, I feel it too. Not sure I understand what happened earlier. Lots of flying bullets, and yet none hit their targets.”

“Our shots were to keep them guessing about a larger attack and to keep them looking for us, not killing you and your brother. Keeps us out of the police investigation and off everyone’s radar. Cops ask you about that?” Cash asks.

“Yeah. They’re fucking confused as hell about that. They’re assuming the Bianchis caught wind of the meeting and decided to join the party,” I answer.

“You need to dye that fucking ginger out of your hair. It’s kind of freaking me the fuck out,” Rex mutters.

“What happens now?” I ask, tired of making small talk.

“We return to Denver with you, and the club votes on your punishment,” Cash says with a touch of anger.

“What about my family?” I ask curiously.