Page 37 of Princess's Revenge

“Have you ever readThe Art of War?”

“No.”

“It’s a famous text written by a Chinese general around 5thCentury BC. I’ve been studying it. We need to find a mid-level Cassaduchi and take him out. Any suggestions?”

Is she crazy?“Why the hell would we want to do that?”

“This is a game of chess, Francis. We want to irritate Don Cassaduchi. We want him to think he has enemies on all sides. We want him to be suspicious of everything and everyone.”

“Why, exactly?” I don’t mean to sound condescending but it comes out that way.

“Because we want to make him more paranoid than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs…and when the time is right, we’ll reveal ourselves and he’ll make a mistake. His anger will get the better of him and we’ll have our opportunity to strike.”

I shoot my brow at her, “Sounds like an interesting book…thisArt of War. Makes you wonder whyeverybodydoesn’t read it.”

“Yeah, you’d think it would be essential reading for someone in your line of work. It’s even free to download,” she gives me an evil smile, “the problem is all your low-level thugs probably can’t read and the rest of you are too busy lifting weights and killing people.”

“Oh, come on! You know that’s not true!”Surely, she must be joking!

She pops another grape and winks at me. “So, are we going to do this or not?”

“Hold on a second,” I’m pretty sure she’s using me! “Are you saying that if I help you, you’ll have sex with me? Like a reward or something?”

She bursts into raucous laughter, “Of course not! What a thing to say!” Andrea shrugs and gives me a crooked smile, “But, if you want to look at it that way, I suppose you could.”

Jeez.“I don’t know, Andrea. My dad wouldn’t approve.”

“That’s why I’m asking you and not him,” she points her finger at me. “I’m taking back my father’s territory and destroying the Cassaduchis. You can help or you can live in your brothers’ shadow for the rest of your life.”

My anger gets the better of me and I bolt upright, “What the hell is that supposed to mean? Did they say something about me?”

“Relax, Francis,” Andrea motions for me to sit back down, “they didn’t say anything. It’s all in your head, but I can see the dynamic. You’ve got something to prove. Maybe doing something when you haven’t been told to by your brothers or your father can fix your perception of yourself.”

“What are you? A fuckin’ therapist?”

“Nope,” she sips her coffee, “just a poor girl who reads whatever she can find. Now, are you in or out?”

I stand, “I’m in.” Maybe she is talking shit, but I’m not going to back down from a challenge.

“Good,” Andrea stands as well. “I need a gun with a silencer—”

“It’s called a suppressor,” I give her a squinty look.

“I stand corrected,” she smiles politely, “I need a gun with asuppressor, for you to sneak me out of here and for you to help me choose the right target.”

“What’s the right target?”

“Someone mid-level, and somewhere we won’t be seen. It’s got to be guerilla style—in and out—quick and clean. It’ll have them wondering who the fuck is behind it.”

I sigh, “Alright, let’s do it.”

No one else was at home, so sneaking Andrea out wasn’t a big deal.

After I help her pick out a weapon from the armory—a suppressed Glock 17—and test it in the barn, we get into the old Hyundai the staff uses for short grocery runs.

It’s a nondescript vehicle and won’t stand out as especially conspicuous. No one does a professional hit and then drives away in a rickety piece of shit.

Generally, you want to be in and out in a vehicle with speed, maneuverability and tinted windows, but since this mission is more undercover than most, I’ve opted for some reverse psychology.

---