Honor Thy Mother & Thy Father Ch. 02

One of the men said, "The car by the curved has had an accident, is it yours?"

The elderly man knew it could not possibly be his, because it was in the garage. However, he stepped outside and looked anyway. He said, "No, that is not my car, should I call the police for you, and tell them the car has been in an accident?"

As a gun was pointed at his head, the gunmen said, "I do not think that will be necessary. Give me the keys to your car, and we will call it even."

The elderly man was very smart. He offered no resistance at all, he told the gunmen where the keys were, and where the money he had was also.

The gunmen put the pistol to his man's ear and said, "We know where you live. If you call the police before 8 o'clock in the morning, we will come back here, and take your part piece by piece, before we kill you."

"Sir, I will do better than that. I will not be the one that calls the police. If someone sees the accident and calls it in, they will probably give their name. It will not be mine."

"Have a good evening, sir. Sleep well."

They took his car keys, and left his money. They did not need it. They were well funded, for this operation. They also had men backing them up in different positions around the area. They had to call them and tell them what happened. They had to get out of this area, because there was no cell phone coverage, due to the mountains. Zabo had a head start, but he could not out run a radio.

The elderly man was as good as his word. He lived alone, so he called his daughter, Bernadette, and asked her to come over to his house, because some men had stolen his car.

She asked if they had hurt him.

He said, "No, they said they knew where I lived, and if I called the police, they would come back, and take me apart, before they killed me. So I called you instead."

"Papa, you are too funny. I will be right there. Make some coffee please. I will bring some pastries."

"Okay, I will put the coffee on."

Bernadette yelled, "Franco, wake up, someone just threatened my father, and stole his car."

Her husband walked down the stairs, putting his robe on, and said, "What idiots would threaten the father-in-law of a judge and steal his car."

Bernadette said, "The idiots that warned him if he called the police, they would take him apart, before they killed him."

"Oh, those idiots; I will call the chief and let him know. I will tell him to come in an unmarked car."

William knew there would be more people after him, than just the four he had seen near his house. He got on the motorway that led to the Gotthard tunnel, and accelerated to a comfortable 120 km/h. He was neither the fastest nor the slowest car on the roadway, so he felt comfortable that the police would not interfere with his travels. His car was equipped with a police scanner, but doubted that the Valentino's would be able to co-opt any of the local or highway police to join in this family matter. This was a matter of honor, and no outside the family was involved in those. He had to slow down when the light rain started to fall. It made the mountain roads treacherous. He was not worried about his vehicle, but you could not worry enough about the vehicles surrounding you. One out-of-control driver could cause a thirty-car accident in a matter of seconds; and this was not uncommon in this area. He had a 2 ½-hour drive to the tunnel, and Switzerland beyond it, but even with all his precautions, he was worried. He was approaching fifty-five years old, and his reaction time was not the same as it was twenty years ago. However, his brain was sharper than it ever was. Given time and access to the right type of equipment, he could cause havoc to the people that were trying to kill him. All he needed to do was live; and protect his little girl from harm. He was right, telling her not to come here. Should he go back to the U.S. and help her. Would that be a good idea; or would that put her in greater danger? They had killed his Laura. He had left her alone, and they had killed her. She was an innocent; she hurt no one, and they killed her. They are not going to do that to my baby girl. I am going to send Bruno a very detailed message that he will remember with no difficulty. I am going home; I am going to New York. I am going to protect my baby girl.

He had been staring straight ahead, while thinking, and not paying attention to the roadway behind him. A black SUV slammed into the rear of his Range Rover, causing it to slide close to the guardrail on the right side of the road. Before he could recover, it hit him again pressing his vehicle hard against it, trying to get it to roll over the rail and down the embankment.

William downshifted and pounced on the gas and the Rover leapt straight ahead, leaving the SUV behind him. He needed distance between him and that car; at least 200 meters before he could release what was in the rear of the car. Now, they were right on his tail, and it would have no effect. The two-lane road was blocked up ahead by two tractor-trailers and traffic coming in the opposite direction was heavy. He had to make a choice, and he had to make it soon. If he slowed down, they could pull up alongside him and shoot him. He made his decision. He darted across both lanes of oncoming traffic, and onto and up a small median and 20° wall of the mountain, still at relatively high speed. Oncoming traffic swerved to keep out of this maniac's way. The black SUV was stuck behind the two trucks, and had to slow down to a crawl.

William saw a chance to cross back over, and did it, but he bumped into the side rail before he regained complete control of his car. He increased his speed and distance from his pursuers. The next time he saw them, he was ready. He pushed the button on the armrest that caused the hatchback to open just enough to allow the 4 gallons of thin oil to flow onto the highway, behind his car. He would know if it worked, shortly, as they entered an S turn in the road. He picked up speed going into it and so did the SUV following him. It was a deadly mistake. As William started the hard left of the S turn, the driver of the black SUV realized he had no traction and hit his brakes, which added insult to injury. The car spun around like a top, hit the guardrail, flipped over it, and went down the 1000-meter embankment and landed on its roof. Unlike the Hollywood movies, there was no explosion. Fortunately for the cars following William, the two slow moving trucks kept everyone moving at a safe speed. Although some lost traction, none lost control of their vehicles. The rainwater washed the light motor oil away quickly.

Surprisingly, when Bruno Valentino received word that Michael Zabo had survived the first attempt to kill him, he was not upset. He became very upset when he received a letter from Iceland, with Michael Zabo's return address on it. He opened it, and a picture of Stephano fell onto his lap. He read the letter first: Dear Bruno, Congratulations on the graduation of your son. I have done extensive research on his background, and have found that he has graduated summa cum laude from every educational facility, he has ever attended.

I have one more facility he is going to attend and I hope he graduates with high honors again. I have hired a group of men that have served in the military. They promised me after they have finished with him; he would have learned things that many people, from many cultures, have died trying to learning.

You killed my darling Laura, for no other reason than I loved her. Then you killed my child; because she was mine. Now it is my turn to return the favor. I am not going to kill you; that would be far too easy. I want to see you in pain. I want you to suffer the way I have been suffering, since I learned that you killed two innocent people. You cannot hide him anywhere I cannot find him. One of your most trusted people is watching him for me.

If you had left me alone, in my solitude, this might not be happening. However, you could not let it end. Your father was a thief. He stole from his partners. It was business; it was not personal. You have made this personal. Now you must suffer a personal loss. Tuck your son into bed tonight. It may be the last night you see him. You will never sleep peacefully again. William

Bruno Valentino's chest felt like it was going to explode as he looked at the picture of Stephano. His arms hurt, his chest hurt, his head hurt and his back hurt. He called for his wife and told her to call 911. He thought he was having a heart attack.

Stephano came running into the room and laid his father on the floor. He placed a pillow under his feet and another under his head. He saw the crumpled piece of paper on the floor, picked it up and read it. He saw the smaller piece of paper on the floor, and picked that up. It was a full-length picture of him, with no arms and no legs. He said, "Holy Shit!" He could not let anyone else see these. He folded them up, and put them both in his pocket.

Stephano looked at his father, and asked him, "Did you do this?"

"It was a matter of honor."

"His daughter was not even alive, when your father was killed."

"It did not matter, we could not kill him, and we had to kill what he loved."

"It was business, dad. You have always told me you keep business and personal apart. You made this personal. Look what you have made him do to you now. He has not started, and you are on the floor, thinking you are having a heart attack. You are having a panic attack worrying about me. William Zabo does not want you to die, trust me. He wants you to live forever. He wants you to suffer forever, because of what you did to him. Personally, I think he's right. You killed two innocent people, because you lost your temper. Now you are going to lose me. Congratulations dad."

After they took his father to the hospital, Stephano did not know what to do. He went up to his room and lay down on the bed. He had a death sentence hanging over his head, and there was no way for him to control what happened. He did not even know who William Zabo was. Someone else controlled his life. He picked up his cell phone, and then threw it back down. She would not talk to him. He had nothing to lose, he thought, I should call her and say goodbye.

The voice mail said, "Oh, it's you again. The answer still starts with an N. However, I love that my checkbook is in the black. I went to see my Foster Parents and gave them a big check and a bigger hug. They were flabbergasted. I have you to thank for that. Leave your message at the beep. Beep."

"Hi, it's me. I am calling to say goodbye. My father got a letter in the mail today from some person that he wronged a long time ago. He killed two innocent people recently, and now this person wants revenge. I am it. So this will be my last phone call. I am sorry we did not have a chance to get to know one another. Goodbye."

"Stephano where the fuck are you going?"

"I was hanging up."

"Do you always hang up when you have something interesting to say?"

"Dying is something interesting?"

"Can you think of anything more important than dying?"

"Falling in love, getting married, having children, living a long and happy life together; should I keep going?"

"That all depends if you are serious or not?"

"I will never have an opportunity to find out. When my father read that letter, he thought he was having a heart attack. If he thought that, he knows this person is as serious as a heart attack. In other words, Patricia, I am a dead man."

"Bring the letter to the FBI, and asked them to put you in witness protection."

"Who am I going to be a witness against?"

"Good question, how about your father; would he go to jail to save your life?"

"I would not send him to jail to save my life."

"That is not what I asked you, dummy. I asked you, "Would your father go to jail to save your life?"

"I cannot answer that question, because I do not honestly know."

"You are full of shit. Your father thought you were going to get killed, and he nearly had a heart attack. If he thought for a second he could save your life, he would dance naked on the top of the World Trade Center to do it."

"I will not ask him to do that for me."

"What is your address; I will come over and ask him for you?"

"He is not here, he is at the hospital."

"What is your address I will come over anyhow?"

"You do not know where I live?"

"No, I do not. That would have been an invasion of your privacy. I do not do that to people. Only people, with no conscience, do that to other people. Do I make myself clear Stephano?"

"Yes dear."

"I am not your dear. I am Patricia, or I am Miss Gallina, I am not your dear."

He gave her his address and said, "I will see you soon, my love."

"I am not your (click)" That son of a bitch hung up on me.

"People are you listening?"

"Click, Click."

"This may work out better than I had originally thought. I know who is after Valentino's son. I can make that work to our advantage. I have to meet my 'Foster Parents' face-to-face tomorrow. I think the print shop should call me, and tell me their computer went down."

"Click, Click."

When she walked in his front door, Stephano smiled at her.

"Don't you dare smile at me, you obnoxious sonofabitch. You hung up on me. You call me, my dear, and you have no right to say that to me. You are the most spoiled child I have ever met. You rich kids think you own everyone, but mister, you do not own me."

"You look so pretty when you are angry."

"Do not give me that shit, Stephano, it will be the last time you see me."

"You mean I will get to see you more than I have seen you already."

"Do not press your luck; I will hit you with my computer. It is more lethal than my third degree black belt."

"I am bigger than you are Patricia. I could hold you down and have my way with you."

"Go ahead, big man; I would love to put you away for twenty years. You know how they treat rapists in prison. A pretty boy like you might last two or three years as someone's pet. It will also keep you away from this man, who was the death sentence hanging over your head."

"You sure do have a way to make a man feel better, Patricia."

"Who said I came here to make you feel better? Let me see the letter and the picture."

She read the letter and looked at the picture, and handed them back to him.

"Why did you come here, Patricia?"

"Stephano, you have the attention span of a goldfish. I asked you if your father would go to jail to save your life. You said you did not know. Do you recall that conversation?"

"Now that you mention it, yes, I do. I will not ask my father to go to jail to save me."

"I swear, Stephano for a college educated man, the English language escapes you. Listen closely, because I asked you, 'Would your father go to jail to save your life.' You said you did not know. I said bullshit. Does any of this ring a bell now?"

"You are so cute when you get angry. Yes, I remember it all; I just wanted to see if you did."

"Stephano, I have photographic memory. I can tell you the amount of peas that were on my plate six months ago. Do not play games with me. You are going to have to ask your father that question, before this man gets to you. Otherwise, he will send you back to him in little pieces, to torment him for the rest of his life."

"I know, however, the thought of my father, spending the rest of his life in prison does not sit well with me."

"Your father has acknowledged the murder of at least two people, and more than likely many more. He is involved in drugs; prostitution, and who knows what else. He is not the nicest man on this planet. He may be one of the worst. If you had a choice, you would not be involved with him, and his businesses. You know that as well, as I do. You would rather be any place else than where you are now. You have to give him this option; or you are as good as dead."

"Have you always been this smart; or did it come to you as you became a pain in the ass?"

"No, I became a pain in the ass first, and then I became smart. I am going home now. I have said what I needed to say, the rest is up to you."

Stephano asked, "Can a dead man get a kiss goodbye?"

"So, you are playing the sympathy card."

"I will play any card I can get to get a kiss from you."

"Okay, a quick one; and no tongue."

Stephano moved in, took her into his arms, and kissed her. Wide eyed, he said, "You kissed me back."

"I most certainly did not."

"Oh yes, you did. You could not fake that, and I bet your pussy is wet."

"I did not kiss you back, and my vagina, most certainly, is not wet."

"Can I touch it, to be sure of that?"

"It will be a snowing in hell, before you get to touch that area of my body."

"You still kissed me back, and there is no denying it. You felt it, and it meant something to you. Did I break the ice with you, 'Ice Queen'?"

"You just started another Ice Age, with your mouth, Stephano."

"You admitted it! You did feel something."

"So what, that is the last kiss you are getting from me, until the continents return to Pangaea."

"So there is hope for me yet, Patricia. All I need is a little time."

"If you consider eons a little time, you go for it."

"So all it will take is a little time; and a lot of patience."

"Stephano, would you please call a taxi for me; before I am the one that kills you."

"It will cost you one more kiss, for me to call a taxi for you."

"Go fuck yourself; I will use my cell phone."

"You are a spoiled sport. I will call a taxi for you."

Twenty minutes later a taxi pulled up in front of the house and beeped its horn.

Patricia said, "Remember what I said, goldfish, otherwise you can kiss your ass goodbye."

"I will speak to my father, when he gets home from the hospital. I will walk you to the taxi, and get you safely on your way."

"I have 2 feet; I think I can walk there by myself."

"What kind of gentlemen would I be if I allowed a lady to go out in the dark of night, unescorted?"

"Stephano, you would be a desperate man, trying valiantly, but in vain, to get another kiss, from an unwilling maiden."

"She is a mind reader, and a pain in the ass, with a photographic memory. What a combination."

He opened the door to the back of the taxi, and allowed her to get in. He was in the process of saying goodbye, when three men grabbed him, and covered his head, with a bag. As he struggled to free himself, the last thing he heard, before a needle was stuck into his neck, was an anguished cry from Patricia yelling, "Stephano, no, please, no."

The following morning, in the business section of the New York Times, there was a personal advertisement that read, "Papa, please contact me at laura_P@buffalo_turnaround.com. Instructions are included on the site. Love your estranged daughter."

Patricia knew her father always read the financial news. When her mother talked about him, she always spoke in glowing terms about his love for numbers and studying what was going on in the financial sections of every newspaper. The Times was the first newspaper she could get an advertisement in, and she hoped to get a response from her father, quickly. She knew her message was cryptic, but she also knew that it would peak his interest. She was right.

William was not staying in a suite of rooms as he normally did. He was staying at a moderately priced hotel near the Newark airport. He was reading the Sunday Times, when he saw the message, and the thing that got to him was the term, "buffalo turnaround." Why would anyone use that term with Laura P in front of it. He opened his computer, and put in the web address and was shocked to see that the home page was a picture of the Glenn Falls house. He continued to read. "Now you know who I am; now you must prove who you are. Your user ID is what you always told my mother you were when she asked you this question, 'What do you do for a living?' If you do not know that answer, you can leave the page now, because you are not who you say you are. My mother also told me something very funny, about a recipe that she came up with. I never laughed louder, or longer than that in my entire life. She said, 'It is tangy, a little salty, but with a little oregano, olive oil, butter, and garlic, you could...' You should know the last word to this sentence. That is your password. Your instructions are inside."