Carlo #10

Auhtor's note: Ahem... the title and the cover for the story has been changed for the last time, and it took me so long to settle on one cause the bing art generator was creating all sorts of monstrosities for me.

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...

The warehouse loomed large in the secluded part of town, its exterior a grim testament to years of neglect. I followed Vito's directions, making my way inside. The air was thick with the scent of oil and dust, and the dim light filtered through broken windows, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

As I stepped further in, I saw a man standing in the middle of the open space, his hands tucked into the pockets of a well-worn leather jacket. He was older, with a salt-and-pepper beard and a face that spoke of a lifetime of stories. He turned as I approached, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Vito Morreti, you son of a bitch! How's the old man?!" he exclaimed, his voice warm and familiar. He stepped forward and gave me the usual Italian greeting, kissing me on both cheeks. I stiffened, feeling incredibly awkward.

Vito appeared beside me, whispering in my ear. "Relax, John. It's just a greeting. Follow the script..."

I forced a smile, trying to hide the discomfort. "Very much dead, and before you ask the same goes for my uncle."

The man's expression, his smile disappearing. "Right... that did happen, didn't it? A shame, that. They were good people, but let's not get caught up in that... you're not here for my condolences, after all." He gestured around the warehouse. "So, you're interested in this place, eh? Let me show you around.

Carlo led me through the warehouse, his voice enthusiastic as he pointed out various features and potential uses for the space. "This here," he said, gesturing to a large open area, "could be perfect for setting up a workshop. Lots of room, high ceilings, good ventilation."

We walked further in, and he showed me a series of smaller rooms off to the side. "Storage, offices, maybe even a little living space if you're so inclined," he suggested with a knowing wink.

His friendliness was almost disarming, his words weaving a vision of endless possibilities for the warehouse. For a moment, I allowed myself to relax, caught up in his easy charm and the practicality of his suggestions.

But there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind, a sense of unease I couldn't quite shake. As Carlo continued talking, showing me the sturdy steel doors and the hidden nooks perfect for hiding goods, I kept noticing the small things that didn't add up.

The way his eyes flicked to the exit every so often, the slight stiffness in his posture despite his relaxed demeanor, the overly practiced ease in his sales pitch.

We paused near a stack of crates, and Carlo turned to face me, his expression suddenly serious. "You know, Vito, I've always liked you. Always thought you were a stand-up guy. But there's something we need to talk about."

Before I could react, Carlo pulled out a gun, aiming it squarely at my chest. My heart skipped a beat, and I cursed under my breath. "Vito, you bastard! What the hell have you gotten me into?"

Vito's voice was calm, almost amused. "Just talk to him, John."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. "Think about what you're doing. If you turn me over to Manfredi, it'll ruin your reputation."

Carlo's smile turned cold. "That would only be true if I sold you the warehouse first. But if I hand you over to Manfredi before the deal, then you just disappear. No one will ever know."

I clenched my fists, feeling a surge of anger. "You really think you can get away with this? People will start asking questions."

Carlo smirked, his eyes narrowing. "Maybe so, but at least I'll be alive to answer them. Silvermane would have my head if he got wind of me helping you."

Vito raised an eyebrow, his tone tinged with thinly veiled amusement. "Talking to him doesn't seem to be working..."

I shot Vito a furious glance, muttering under my breath. "Why are you acting like this has nothing to do with you?! You got me into this fucking mess!"

Vito shrugged. "Relax. If reason doesn't work, you always have violence." He turned to me with a smirk. "You just took down a bull-sized predatory bird. An old man with a gun should be a piece of cake."

Carlos couldn't help but frown in confusion. "The hell are you muttering about, boy? Did you finally lose your mind?!"

Ignoring Vito's cavalier attitude, I clenched my fists, thinking quickly. With one hand behind my back, I retrieved a small wooden club from my inventory. "Carlo, this isn't the way to do business. Let's talk this through."

Carlo's eyes narrowed, his grip tightening over the gun. "Talk? You think I'm stupid? You've brought nothing but trouble to my doorstep. It's either you or me now!"

Vito's voice interjected in my mind. "Keep him talking. Get him to lower his guard."

Carlo seemed to hesitate. "It can't get any worse than this. Manfredi will come for me if I don't hand you over... I'm sorry, kid..." he added with a sigh, his gaze shifting to the ground.

Instinctively, I knew it was my chance to strike.

threw the small wooden club with all my strength, aiming for Carlo's arm. It flew through the air in a swift arc, hitting him squarely just as he started to squeeze the trigger of his gun. Carlo cried out in pain, his shot going wide and hitting a stack of crates behind me. I didn't waste a moment, immediately diving behind some nearby shelves for cover.

Gripping my gun tightly, I cautiously peered around the corner of the shelves, keeping low to avoid Carlo's line of sight.

The warehouse echoed with the sharp reports of gunfire, each shot making me flinch as they whizzed past my cover. Adrenaline surged through me as I prepared to take a shot, but Vito's voice rang clear in my mind, a stark reminder of our objective. "Careful not to kill him, John. We still need the warehouse."

I clenched my teeth, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "There's little that I wouldn't give if I could just punch you in that smug mouth of yours..." I grumbled to myself, but I knew Vito was right. Killing Carlo meant kissing the warehouse goodbye.

Putting away my gun, I moved swiftly to another piece of cover, darting behind some old crates nearby as Carlo continued firing wildly. "Carlo, listen to me!" I called out, trying to keep him engaged. "We can work this out. Just put the gun down."

Carlo's face contorted with anger, his voice strained. "Work this out? After what you've brought to my doorstep? No. There is no working this out!"

Moving from cover to cover, I kept Carlo talking, trying to distract him. "Carlo, listen to me," I called out as I cautiously advanced. "We don't have to do this. There's another way out of this mess."

Carlo scoffed, his voice strained. "There's no way out for you, Vito. You're finished."

I took a deep breath, knowing I had to act before Carlo did. He continued firing sporadically, the shots echoing through the warehouse. Finally, I saw my opening. Carlo's gun clicked empty, a moment of vulnerability I couldn't afford to miss.

Wasting no time, I quickly retrieved my bow.

With steady hands, I drew back the bowstring, aiming carefully at Carlo's shoulder. Time seemed to slow as I released the arrow. It flew true, striking Carlo with a sharp thud. He cried out, dropping his gun as pain seared through his shoulder.

Gasping for breath, Carlo stumbled backward, clutching the arrow lodged in his flesh. "God damn it all! Vito, you bastard!" he spat, glaring at me with fury and disbelief.

I emerged cautiously from my cover, keeping my bow trained on Carlo. "I didn't want it to come to this," I said, letting out a tired sigh. "But you left me no choice."

Carlo's eyes burned with rage, but also a hint of resignation. "This doesn't change anything, Vito. Manfredi will come for you. You're a dead man, you hear me?!"

Vito's voice was cool in my mind. "We'll deal with Manfredi when the time comes. Right now, let's tie up Carlo and secure the warehouse."

I nodded, keeping a wary eye on Carlo as I cautiously approached. This wasn't how I'd imagined securing a base in this world, but sometimes survival meant making hard choices. And as I stood over Carlo, I knew this was just the beginning of the challenges ahead.

...

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