Omerta snitch

Don Alonso Marcovic ate his meal thoughtfully. He was thinking about a former associate who got pinched.

An associate is a member of the mafia family and what was meant by being pinched was to be caught by the cops. He was thinking of jailbreaking the man before he was tortured to death or, worse, broke the omerta code, the sacred oath of silence. There was a knock on his door, and he shifted his gaze towards it.

"Enter," he commanded.

Bianco, his right-hand man and button man, came into the room. He had a painful expression on his face because he had some bad news to deliver.

"Don, I've received word that the cops have nailed warehouse thirteen."

"Who is the rat?" Alonso said, dropping his spoon. Warehouse thirteen was used in storing weapons that cost several millions of dollars. The news of it being nailed was enough to cause one's appetite permanent damage.

"Vincenzo," Bianco muttered. "I heard he struck a bargain plea after severe torturing for a lighter sentence," Vincenzo had been his friend and true soldier until the last minute. He knew for sure that Vincenzo's days were numbered, and he had just a few mornings left to wake up to.

"Alright, thanks for the intel. Anything else?"

"Don Palumbo requested for you to join him in the pool," Bianco said.

"He knows how much I hate water," Alonso replied tersely. "Anyways, I'll be with him shortly." Bianco gave a slight nod and exited the room.

The Don stood up and stared at the painting of the big black wolf. At the bottom right of the picture was written: Dedicated to Don Karlow De Sina Marcovic. Vincenzo had done the image and given it as a gift to his grandfather and him, but fuck that because Alonso was pissed that Vincenzo broke Omerta in just two weeks. Alonso had been planning in those weeks how he could free the man, and now hastily, he had sold them out. He left the room to meet with his grandfather for a second time that day.

"Come and join me, grandson; the water is so refreshing," Mazza said, diving deeper into the pool and coming out a few distances. Alonso, following the edge of the pool, walked to the new spot his grandfather was in.

"Yeah, you seem to have the habit of asking me to do what I hate," Alonso said.

"Yes, that's why I called you." Mazza hit the water with his hands purposefully to have some of it splash on his grandson's feet.

"Stop it, granddad," Alonso said, stepping a few feet away from the reach of the splashing water.

"Taleela? Is that the best name you could come up with?" Mazza said, scowling.

"Anything better will have you are thinking I'm falling for her," Alonso replied, feeling irritable.

"She said you asked her to strip," Mazza said, grinning. "Did you like what you saw?"

"No comment, Granddad. I want her out of the house. Did you notice she has a Russian accent?"

"I didn't," Mazza replied. Alonso heard the lie in his grandfather's tone but ignored it. His grandfather would know a Russian accent even in his sleep.

"Okay, nevertheless, I want her out of here."

"Alonso, she has nowhere else to go, and I promised her sanctuary."

"Okay, then she's your mistress then."

Alonso remembered something else about Taleela.

"I'm too old for that; take her as your slave or something. Give her some time, and I'm sure you'll fall for her."

Alonso spat. "That will never happen," he said vehemently.

"Sometimes, I wonder who you got this cold-heartedness from? Your father and I both loved to love."

"Well, neither of you lost your parents at a tender age or got bullied by the likes of Callisto. Face it, granddad, life toughened me, and I'm not a mushy man like either of you."

He saw the pain in his grandfather's face and felt good; that should make him drop the subject.

"Our former friend is walking across the bridge; when are you going to clip him?"

"I am not, I'll give him a chance, but I won't let him know that I'm giving him one," Alonso replied. They were referring to killing Vincenzo.

"Two passes in a row, are you were growing soft?" his grandfather asked.

"Not necessarily," he replied haughtily.

His granddad swam to the edge of the pool and rested his arms on the tiled floor.

"Do you think Bianco would've been able to do it if you didn't give Vincenzo a second chance? Those two are like brothers."

"He would have done it regardless of how he felt!" Alonso said coldly.

"And how do you feel?"

"I'm keeping my feelings in check; you know he shouldn't be granted mercy, but yet here I am being merciful."

"Yes... and who will be his replacement if he fucks up again?"

"I'll worry about that later."

"So, what are you worried about now?" Mazza pulled himself out of the pool. He was still very agile for his age.

"Money, we need another means to make it."

"I thought we sold some guns recently?" Mazza asked, wrapping himself with a towel.

"The Russian pricks are asking for a refund, and I asked Vladimir to authorize the refund."

Mazza sat on a reclining chair, and Alonso joined him in the chair next to his

"Fuck that. Since we have made a loss, we should double-cross the Russians, send another crew to take everything back."

"Instead of using another crew, wouldn't it be better to use an insider? I have a hold on a guy that's part of the Russian operation for this deal, and he could get the job done."

"What kind of hold?" Mazza grunted.

"He's underpaid, and so we could cut him a deal-"

His grandfather held a palm to his face.

"That's still a loss of money."

"Yeah, but it's safer."

"I agree, but that's assuming you had a stronger hold. Information is power, and thus what if the insider sells out to his boss your intention to double-cross him? If you had a hold of, say, a disloyal worker, now that could work, but a man desperately in need of money is an unstable man to get a hold on."

Alonso smiled at his grandfather. He could have as well been a consigliere assuming he was not the underboss. Alonso saw Taleela coming towards them, and he rose to leave. The mere sight of her made him uncomfortable.

"Fine, I'll send another of our crew," Alonso said. "Something about her gives me the creep."

"What's that?"

"I can't seem to read her thoughts," Alonso replied.

"That's because of the mate bond. She might be blocking you out unintentionally."

Alonso left without ever commenting on what his grandfather had revealed to him. When he and Taleela passed each other, he made sure to send her a scary glare.

The following day he went down to his grandfather to inform him that he would be traveling to Moscow later after they had gotten Vincenzo out of the Italian prison he was being held in.

Vincenzo was holed up in his tiny cell sleeping when he heard the buzzing sound of the gate opening. Two officers came into the cell and dragged him out. He had been chained from his hands to his feet.

"Move," said one of the officers.

"Where are you taking me to?" Vincenzo asked, feeling frightened.

"Hell," the officer snorted.

"This wasn't part of the deal," Vincenzo said, trying to wriggle himself free from their hold. "I signed a plea bargain to serve my sentence here, and it was shortened to three months."

"Ha! Like hell you did," the second officer spat.

The officers led him to a van and threw him into the back of it before climbing inside themselves. Vincenzo noticed two other men, but something was strange because they were masked. One of the men pulled his mask, and Vincenzo recoiled in shock. One of the officers that had led him here took off his chains.

"Vincenzo," Alonso said, slowly pulling down his mask. The other man took off his mask, and his identity was revealed too, Bianco.

"How come? Boss!" Vincenzo said, sounding astonished.

"You thought they were going to grant you a shorter sentence or keep to their word about transferring you to that hell hole?" Bianco asked, sounding incredulous. He heard about the transfer in time and dealt with these officers to buy Vincenzo freedom. A freedom that would end in death, Bianco thought.

"I'm so sorry I broke my oath, boss, the torture-"

Don Alonso sent a warning glare to Vincenzo, and he kept mute.

"I don't want to hear it."

They drove silently to the airport, and the officers were paid off instantly. Alonso, Bianco, and Vincenzo got out of the van and boarded a jet. Vincenzo tried to get his bearing. He wondered if his boss intended to throw him off the plane when they were at the highest altitude. Instead, he was offered a seat next to him and Bianco. Bianco was like a brother to him, and he hoped he would beg Don Alonso to give him a pass.

"I would like you to oversee an operation in Moscow," Don Alonso announced to the shock of everyone. "Vladimir wouldn't be able to do so personally."

Bianco's gaze shifted to his boss. "You said what?"

"Surely you heard me," Alonso said.

"What operations?" Vincenzo asked, his heartbeat slowing down.

Alonso crossed his leg, laced his fingers on his abdomen, and answered, "I need you to lead a crew to rob the Makarov, take back everything we sold to them, and whatever cash that was returned."

"Thank you, boss, for giving me another opportunity to serve you," Vincenzo said happily but silently wondered why he was pardoned. The easiness with which the pardon had come troubled him. Something told him this was his last service to Don Alonso. The Don believed in punishment.

When they arrived in Moscow, the atmosphere had significantly changed from Italy's, and it was cold outside as they deplaned. Alonso wore a jacket. He checked his watch to see whether they had arrived promptly. Vladimir was there to welcome them with a car.

Vladimir was older than them all, and his position in the mob was consigliere. Bianco and Alonso sat in the back seat while Vladimir stayed in the front passenger seat. Vincenzo rode in a separate car with the crew he was meant to lead.

"Vladimir, do you think the plan will work?" Alonso said, breaking the silence.

"Yes, and the crew is more than ready, but I'm just wondering why you had to add Vincenzo to it," answered Vladimir.

"You know he's a competent man, and since it's his fault we lost money in the first place, I want him to be responsible for his action. Also, the former leader you chose for this operation has been eating alone, so I can't trust him. Isn't that right, Bianco? Has Luca not been cheating me?" Alonso said.

"Yes, Don, he is a very greedy man," Alonso replied.

"Which is why after the operation, I intend to have Vincenzo clip him," Alonso further explained to him with a twisted smile.

"Bianco," Alonso called after a while. "What do you think about the new lady?"

"Taleela? Oh well, she's a beautiful boss. The grandmaster has a keen eye," Bianco said, smiling softly.

"Who's that?" Vladimir asked, not used to the feeling of not knowing the latest. As a consigliere, he was usually aware of all that was happening.

"A new girl my granddad thinks should be my mate, she has no memory of who she is, and so I named her Taleela," Alonso offered a quick response.

"Sounds sketchy; I'd like to meet her. Do you think she's telling the truth about not knowing who she's?" Vladimir inquired with a hint of accusation in his tone.

"Wait till you meet her," Alonso said and then added, "I'm troubled about her Russian accent, and also, I can't read her thoughts."

"Although, since I've known your grandfather, he hasn't ever made a mistake, so you can give her the benefit of the doubt," Vladimir said. Alonso went quiet and decided to think for the rest of the journey to Vladimir's house.

Vincenzo thanked his star once more as he rode with Lucas and the others. Lucas had explained everything to him concerning the robbery. They gave Vincenzo a change of clothing once they got to a deserted warehouse.

Vincenzo was to act as a wealthy arms dealer interested in buying weapons from the Mafia boss in Moscow. Once the Mafia boss was convinced, he would approve his men to take them to where the guns were stored. On that note, they set out once more, this time to meet with Ivan Makarov, the Russian Mafia boss.