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It wasn’t very often that everyone from the Family was in
Palmero’s office all at once. Even the lower soldiers were here, and that
wasn’t a good sign. There was trouble, and when there was trouble in a
business like this, it didn’t mean layoffs or pay cuts. It meant your life.
Everyone in the room was nervous to some degree. The sweat from their hands and
the heat from their faces intermingled with the smell of dead meat emanating
from the butcher shop downstairs to create an almost surreal atmosphere. As if
death was in the air.
The older ones knew how to handle their nerves, so that their
flippant exterior belied the trepidation in their hearts. Many of them accepted
that death would come for them at some time—it was an occupational hazard of
sorts—but that didn’t mean they couldn’t fear it.
Sophia’s thoughts were not for herself at this junction.
They were split between her father, who was going to be in the front line today,
and for her baby son at home whom she may not live to go back to. Benny chanced
a glance at her to see if he could see that worry in her face, but she stared
blankly back at him. She couldn’t let her weaknesses show today, not even to
those men on her side.
Palmero quieted the low buzz in the room simply by clearing
his throat. At once, everyone was attentive and looking towards him, waiting for
their instructions.
“Okay,” Palmero began, his eyes down at first, but as he
continued to speak he lifted his gaze slowly and looked all of them in turn,
“Growing problems between the Belucci Family and ours has resulted in this
meeting being called today. Petty arguments over percentages and rights have
escalated over the past couple of years and are getting in the way more than
ever. Paul Belucci and I both realize that something needs to be done to ease
the tension between our two Families, particularly now since the Salvatore
Family has been taken out of the equation.” Here he looked at Sophia, but she
stared straight ahead as other eyes turned for a fleeting look at her. Palmero
gestured to Benny and Vincenzo, and they, knowing from experience what this
meant, both walked over and stood either side of him. “We haven’t had an
official meeting like this for a while. For those of you who don’t know the
drill, here’s how it works. The capos will be coming in with me, and they will
choose one soldier each to come with us.”
Vincenzo pointed at Ricardo and Benny nodded at Sophia. Still
her eyes remained steady, though her heart immediately skipped a beat.
“The rest of you will be posted around the outside of the
building. Obviously you know to keep a lookout for cops. Also keep a lookout
for any members of the Belucci Family. I have no idea if they’re going to try
and take us out. This is meant to be a peaceful meeting, but as we all know,
peace is only a word in the world we live in. So assume that they are there to
kill us. We know how easily superiority can change if sides are uneven. The
Tremarchi Family has always been very fortunate to have numbers on our side and
always be on top. Let’s not have that change now.”
And with that, Palmero Tremarchi led the silent mob out of
the office. The only noises the pack of modern day gangsters in jeans and
tracksuit pants added to the symphony of the surrounding neighborhood were the
sounds of doors opening and closing and cars moving away to another, less
visited, part of town.
The meeting place was a disused printers', small and dusty and
cluttered with archaic metal presses that hadn’t been used for twenty years
and never would be again. Palmero led his four aides in, and they were met by
six of the Belucci Family, who all sat solemnly on one side of a six foot trestle
table that had been set up for the occasion.
As soon as she entered the room, Sophia felt a strange dark
sensation in her gut. She tried to tell herself that the dust or the smell of
discarded ink somewhere within the old building was making her feel odd, but she
knew that it wasn’t it. Her intuition was trying to tell her something. That
they shouldn’t be here.
As her father and the other men spoke, Sophia’s eyes traced
the lines of the room over and over again. She couldn’t concentrate on their
words and didn’t try. She focused her energies instead on pinpointing the
reason for her unease, and kept herself ready.
Almost an hour past, yet she continued scanning her eyes back
and forth, over each man on the opposite side of the table, each corner, each
door, each shadow. She saw a glint of color in a window, looked again, but it
was gone. Her eyes narrowed and she lightly touched Benny’s arm.
“Something’s not right,” she whispered to him.
“What are you talking about,” he replied under his
breath, “haven’t you been listening? It’s going good.”
“No, I’ve been looking. There’s someone else in
here.”
“That’s not unusual.”
“No, but …”
A thin, hollow sound that may not have been detected
otherwise rang in Sophia’s ear. It came from far away, she knew that, but no
one else noticed it. Except, after a brief moment, Benny. His eyes widened as he
looked at Sophia, and then an expression of puzzlement crossed his face. She
grabbed his arm, and tried to shout out to her father, but her throat wouldn’t
work and all she could do was try to catch Benny as he slumped to the floor. As
she fell with him, Palmero at last turned his head to see what was happening,
and in an instant realized.
Sophia lay on the ground with Benny, pulling off her
jacket to stem the flow of blood from the wound in his sternum, and the sounds
of bullets ringing through silencers were muted as she wondered why, yet again,
she had cheated death and tried to help Benny do the same.
© Cynthia M. Piromalli
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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