Page 36 of DeLucas After Dark

“Ethan, if you can hear me, tell me what happened.”

He feebly removes the mask. An eternity of lives lived and lost pass by the time he gasps, “I’m sorry Valentino. After they shot me, I passed out for a while. When I came to, Sloane and Tácito were gone.”

“I’m going to get them back. You concentrate on healing.” I squeeze his hand then replace the mask.

In seconds, he passes out. At the hospital, I arrange for his care. When the doctors stabilize him, I’ll have him medevaced to Douglas. While I’m between calls with Ethan’s team, my phone rings.

“Ma porca puttana! How the fuck does don’t make noise and don’t fucking call, summon, or interrupt me when I’m with Eve mean a fucking street shoot out on Christmas Eve?”

“It wasn’t me, Don Enzo. Pierangelo set this up before he saw me.”

“You asked me to step aside, now I have to—”

“He has my family, but I don’t know where, and my wife…” I can’t speak the unthinkable words.

“Quel pezzo di merda! What is his endgame?”

“He intends to give Sansone’s territory to Piergiuliano by permanently removing us. He’s already blown up my home and put a hit out on Sansone.”

“Piergiuliano couldn’t find his way out of a paper bag. Give me five minutes.”

Within four minutes a text message alert appears on my phone. Before I can open to see the entire message, the phone rings.

“I sent you an address. If you get there before my men, you might get a piece of Pierangelo for yourself.”

“Are Sloane and Tácito alive? Are they together?”

“They are both. Now do I need to fucking babysit you or are you going to get your woman?”

“Thank you Don Enzo.” I’m running out of the hospital before I complete his name.

Outside, the rest of Ethan’s team that survived the hit wait for me.

“We’re going to get them back, boss,” Ethan’s second-in-command says.

I nod, choking back my fears, and give them the address. We pile into the SUVs. In the back of the car I enter is an arsenal with enough ammo to win a war. The ride over is interminable.

Neither Tácito nor Sloane have sent another message. I try to rationalize that they must be tied up. I pray that’s it because I can’t accept any other outcome.

We pull up to the entrance of a warehouse compound in the zona industriale and everyone files out with their weapons. Although it’s Christmas Eve, the silence disquiets me. I don’t know what building they’re holding my family in, and any wrong move will end my existence.

As my team strategizes our next move, another half dozen cars pull up and unload fully armed men, pointing guns at us.

“Identificatev!” One of the men says.

“Are you the men Don Enzo sent to help me?” I ask instead of telling them my name.

They lower their weapons. “You arrived quickly. Follow us, we know where Pierangelo’s safe room is.”

I nod at my men to follow the team. “Whatever you do, don’t harm my people.”

“Your men will be in charge of getting them out safely. We’re here for Pierangelo.”

I begrudgingly accept their stance. As we approach a nondescript door, an exchange of gunfire blasts the quiet. The violent ricochets of bullets hitting metal and other hard substances cause me to rush forward with no regard for my life.

Everyone runs to keep up. Inside, there’s no trace of Sloane or Tácito, but there are bodies littering the ground.

“It’s about time you showed up Valentino!” Sloane’s anger is the sweetest nectar to my ears.

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