Deep (Pagano Family #4)(40)

For this offensive, size mattered, so all three capos and their main crews were here. They would be joining with similar groups from the other Council families. Ben, too old and important for work like this, had stayed behind. There had been argument that Nick himself was too important for this work, but an authoritative presence was key—and anything related to Church was his. The argument had been halfhearted and easily dismissed. He was in Kevlar, his one concession. He hated the vest—it weighed him down and got in his way—but he would likely be their enemies’ primary target, and so, never reckless, he’d conceded.

He was glad to have Brian at his side, worried as he was about his fitness. But his friend had insisted that he was solid and even demonstrated as much at the gym the previous afternoon. His back was still mottled with burn damage and likely to scar, but his shoulder had healed sufficiently well for motion and strength. And he had insisted he not be left behind, especially with a rat in their midst.

Nick had a file in his head of images he called up when he needed a certain mindset—the mindset that allowed him to do the darkest things he needed to do and still keep hold of his soul. Since Church had started barking, that file had filled out considerably. A row of bodies, dead or grievously injured, including his cousins, Luca and John, and Luca’s girl, trussed up and laid out in front of the warehouse. The crisped remains of an innocent man, bound to a steel beam in a burned-out construction site. Jimmy’s shod foot, alone on a Providence street. His pregnant cousin, Carmen, lying bleeding against a gravestone.

What remained of his father’s head, lying on a white satin pillow in his casket—that image he was saving for a particular occasion. His mother, curled on the floor of her bedroom the night after the funeral, weeping inconsolably.

His friend and trusted associate, Luciano “Chi-Chi” Rinaldi, in the parking garage at Neon, relieving Jimmy for a piss, looking around anxiously, and then opening the front passenger door. Right there on the security footage. The Feds were on him, too, though Ben and Nick had paid heavily to slow them down. This was Nick’s to handle.

Chi-Chi checked the last load and then turned to Nick. “We look good, boss. I think we’re good to go.”

Nick holstered his Beretta. He had another, smaller Sig under his right arm. He’d go in with his holstered handguns and his father’s stiletto in his pocket, and with an AR15 on his shoulder. If he needed more, he’d trust Brian to get it to him. The fight would be loud and bloody. Neither the Zapata cartel nor Jackie Stone was known for levelheadedness. They liked things big and messy. Winning this big and messy fight would, Nick and Ben both believed, give the Paganos and all the families their best opportunity to change the battleground and the whole war and frame it on their terms.

If they were wrong, they could well have trouble with the Council, but Nick thought his uncle had been right. Turning back the Zapatas and their drugs would cripple Alvin Church.

Having a rat had turned out to be the pivot of the plan. Once Nick had confirmation that Chi-Chi had flipped for Church, he had exploited that link. Jackie Stone was expecting a different kind of trouble.

And now it was time to catch the rat. But Nick needed to know if Matty was in on Chi-Chi’s side gig at all.

“Change of plan.” Besides Ben and the capos, only Brian knew that the plan had been a decoy. Nick scanned the other men’s reactions. Interest, concern, some disquiet—all reasonable for a last-minute game change. Matty’s reaction was similar. But Chi-Chi flinched hard. And he was the first to speak.

“What? That wise, boss? So late?” Reading body language was important in Nick’s line of work, and Chi-Chi’s body was an encyclopedia of anxiety. Nick knew then that Chi-Chi’s betrayal extended beyond the bomb. He’d informed Church, or Stone, about today’s events, too.

Even Matty noticed, scowling at his friend’s challenge. A soldier questioning the boss, crew or not, friend or not, in front of most of the organization—that was a dangerous move in itself.

“Take him.”

At Nick’s short sentence, Brian went immediately and clocked Chi-Chi with the butt of a Mossberg. Chi-Chi went down, dazed but conscious. Matty had been momentarily stunned by the turn of events, but now he helped Brian bind and gag Chi-Chi. Once the daze wore off, Chi-Chi struggled mightily, but then other soldiers came in on the assist, without question.

When he was subdued and thoroughly restrained, Nick squatted at his side. “Security cameras in the parking garage.” Chi-Chi stopped struggling completely at Nick’s words. “You’re not a smart guy, Chi. What you had going for you was loyalty. Now you better hope you know something helpful.”

Nick stood and looked at Matty, who was obviously stunned but still in. Good—at least the betrayal had not spread beyond one stupid guido. “Hood him and box him. I’ll deal with him after.”

Matty nodded, and Danny, one of Dom’s crew, helped him drag Chi-Chi away. No one spoke until they were back. When they were, Nick said to the men assembled, “There is no reward in treason. But there is retribution. Remember that. If you need a clearer lesson, then come to the docks tonight and see the retribution in its full flower.” He gave that a beat to sink in, and then said, “Now. The real plan.” And he explained it.



oOo



The real plan was half as complicated as the decoy plan and twice as dangerous. But the families had the edge, since their enemies were expecting a different target approached at a different time. Instead of going for Stone after the exchange, they were going for the cartel and Stone in the middle. Twice the enemies, twice the risk, twice the result.