The Shepherd's Crook Pt. 04

They all returned when word reached them of the massacre of everyone of significance in the five families that ran the city's mob syndicate. The organization was destroyed, and the bit players were just scratching at the crumbs left over. There'd been a few plays for power, but the foundation was gone, and the other crime syndicates were dividing the spoils.

Carmine witnessed his future glory's death before it had become a reality. The riches and power that should have been his as he worked beside his uncle had been denied.

What nobody knew but him was the identity of the assassin who killed their families. He'd broken into the Solerno mansion and found a surveillance cam the Feds missed. He'd been the one who hid it on his last visit to the estate to capture video of whoever was fucking that hot bitch Don Solerno called his wife. He'd planted the cam at the request of the man himself.

The camera caught a few frames of a brunette beauty dressed in tight black leather entering the master bedroom to put a slug through the wife's head and heart before slipping away.

One of those frames was sharp enough for him to recognize the woman as one of the pet assassins he'd seen on TV following Ben Shepherd around. Why this guy sent her after the families was still unknown to him, but that didn't matter.

All that mattered was getting revenge.

He contacted a few friends he'd nurtured over the years in key locations. These people were his spy network. He put the word out that he needed information about Ben Shepherd if he showed his face in New York.

Months later, his contact at the airport notified him that the man had arrived with three blondes.

His contact in the entertainment biz said he was rubbing shoulders with actors at a party near the park, but he was surrounded by mercs.

Carmine finally got a break when he learned he was going to dinner at a place once owned by his uncle. He made a call and reserved a table within viewing distance of the target, a half hour earlier than them.

He went over a day early and stashed a bag of handguns in the ceiling of the men's room.

Then he called Dante and Renzo to invite them over to his place to discuss a matter of importance regarding the demise of their families.

When Dante arrived, he sneered at Carmine. "At least you can always fall back on your grocery stock boy skills."

"Hey, fuck you," Carmine said without heat, and Dante snickered.

Renzo arrived and looked at the two men. "What are you two losers whining about now?"

Dante held up his hands. "Not me! It's all sunshine and tits for me these days."

Carmine smiled wickedly. "Have a seat, boys. I have something to tell you."

He served them both a beer and opened one for himself.

Once they were all settled, he placed a large print of the leather-clad assassin on the table between them.

"We're here to discuss your leather fetish?" Dante snorted. Even Renzo smiled at that one.

"No. This is the bitch who killed our families."

Smiles disappeared.

Renzo's expression went dark. "Don't fuck with us about this."

"I'm not. At his request, I hid a camera in Don Solerno's bedroom. He asked me to catch his wife's lover. The Fed's never discovered the camera, but it caught a few frames of this bitch sneaking in to ice the woman. No other pictures exist of her in any of the homes she invaded. She's some kinda elite killer, and she removed all the security footage. But she missed this camera."

Dante's face was getting red. "Who is she?"

"She's one of the Russian assassins Ben Shepherd hired as bodyguards." He turned on his TV, and there was a still of Ben walking through a crowded airport with the brunette following him. A matching blonde assassin was on his other side.

"In the more recent pictures, the brunette isn't with him. I couldn't find out anything on why or where she is now," Carmine said with a scowl.

"Why tell us about the bitch if you don't know where she is?" Renzo snarled.

Carmine locked eyes with the man and saw the madness lurking there. He suppressed a shiver. "She's just the weapon. The real target is the man who ordered the killing. Ben Shepherd. I know where he'll be tonight."

Dante looked at Carmine in confusion. "Why would he have ordered the hit on our families? What connection does he have?"

"He's a recluse. He never speaks to the media and is super secretive about his life. Who knows what shit he's up to! Maybe you'd like to ask him while standing over him with a gun aimed at his ugly face."

Dante's smile returned, but it was cold now.

"He's got military support. How are we supposed to get close?" Renzo asked quietly.

"Because we have a reservation at the same restaurant he'll be dining at tonight. I hope you have a black suit and tie. It's a classy place."

Renzo nodded to himself. "Weapons?"

"Already in place. Stashed them in the ceiling of the washroom. Above the last toilet."

Renzo's smile was back as well, but it didn't make Carmine feel more at ease with him.

"How many will we be facing?" Dante asked.

Carmine nodded. "My contact at the airport said he arrived with three blondes. One is likely the other assassin. One will be the military bitch who follows him around. The third is likely just some bimbo to keep his dick warm—"

"She's mine," Renzo said.

Dante and Carmine looked at their third member with unease. "Whatever, man. Just as long as we ice the dangerous bitches first," Carmine insisted.

He was relieved when Renzo nodded. Then he looked at Dante. "Another of my contacts said he's been traveling with a squad of security goons, but they won't be inside the restaurant. The quicker we take out the two bitches, the greater the chance they won't notify the team outside."

Dante looked a little worried, but Renzo still seemed to be thinking about the woman he called dibs on. "Do we have an escape route?"

Carmine nodded. "There's a basement-to-basement tunnel in the building. We do the deed, get to the lowest level, the southwest corner, through the tunnel, and slip out of the building across the street. I confirmed it's still open."

Dante smiled as he was impressed by Carmine's planning.

Carmine slid a business card to each of them. "We do this, and we make a name for ourselves. Maybe we get back a piece of that future they stole from us."

Dante picked up the card and saw the restaurant's address on the back with the time.

"Reservations are under the name Don. Party of three for Don. Don't be late, dress classy, don't draw attention to yourself, and don't stare at the target!"

"Shit! We know how this works, Carmine!" Dante claimed.

"Just sayin', we get one chance at this to get revenge on the bastard for our families," Carmine insisted.

"Fuck! We got it!" Dante insisted as his temper flared.

Renzo just nodded. Then he stood, tucked the card into his shirt pocket, and held a hand out to Carmine. After a moment's hesitation, he shook it.

"You did good, Carmine. Thanks for this," Renzo said. Then he pulled a silenced gun from inside his jacket and put a bullet between Dante's shocked eyes.

Carmine stared in silence at the dead man slumped on his couch. He'd never seen a dead guy before. Then he looked back to see the silencer barrel aimed at his face. "Why?" he asked.

"My old man didn't say much to me. But he did say to never trust a Vitale," Renzo sighed.

"I-I'm not a Vitale," Carmine said with a trembling voice.

"No. You've proven smarter than them, but there's just one problem," Renzo said with a shrug.

"P-problem?" Carmine forced out as the gun seemed to grow in his eyes.

"You're not family."

A spike of anger pushed back some of the fear. "Uncle—"

Renzo laughed, but the gun never wavered. "He wasn't your family. I heard about it from my Nonno. He told me your mom left the family because her brother raped her. Your Uncle was a sick fuck! No one would believe her, not even her parents, because he was the eldest son. She left, and they shunned her. I don't suppose she ever told you." He smiled at the pain on Carmine's face. "No, I can see she didn't."

Carmine's mind was reeling from this. "Why did he take me in? I worked for him! He sent me to Sicily!"

"He did it to hurt your ma, idiot. He got from you what he wanted, planting the camera, then he sent you to Sicily to be quietly killed and buried in an unmarked grave so he could take you from her. I was the one given the order to do it. But you were such an eager puppy, and you seemed smarter than the others, so I bided my time. Now that waiting has paid off."

"Then I did you a favor! You can do one for me...." As he said the words, he realized it didn't matter. Renzo was going to kill him because that's what psychopaths did. The man's smile confirmed it.

It was strange that the last thoughts running through his mind were of his parents. His father, who put up with his shit and worked so hard to keep a smile on his mother's face through all those years. His mother, who carried the shame and pain of what her brother did. He felt the guilt for the pain he'd caused them and wished he could tell them he was sorr—

-=-

Renzo watched the life fade from Carmine's eyes as he slumped in his chair.

"You're not family. No favors."

He slipped gloves on and wiped down the surfaces he touched, which wasn't much.

He looked at the photo on the table and picked it up. So, this was the cunt who offed his family. He'd probably be pissed or feel something for their deaths if he had normal emotions. As it was, he studied the woman's features until he'd memorized them. If he saw her, he'd kill her for taking something that belonged to him. He folded the picture and stuffed it in his pocket.

He took Carmine's and Dante's wallets. Looking inside, he saw both were filled with cash. Fuck, yeah! He was going to buy a nice suit for his dinner tonight. He'd order a good meal with wine, as well.

He also took Dante's watch as it was better than his. Carmine's was a cheap knock-off, but he had a nice ring.

Now to sow some chaos.

Renzo lit some candles in the living room and then got the gas stove filling the kitchen with gas. He let himself out of the condo, took the elevator to the lobby, and casually walked outside, keeping his face turned from the camera as he had on the way in. Fucking surveillance was a nuisance.

He was halfway to the car he'd parked down the street when the muffled boom echoed off the nearby buildings. Glancing back, he saw a fireball rolling up the side of the building. He smiled to himself.

He loved this part. The anticipation before a kill. It was certainly helpful of Carmine to make all the preparations for him. He supposed the punk had his uses.

Smiling, Renzo drove away before the cops and firetrucks arrived.

He had shopping to do.

-=-

Phil smiled as Ben walked toward his table with Ashley on his arm. His eyes widened in appreciation of the woman's lovely dress, which showed off her shapely legs.

His eyes were distracted by the leer on the face of the man eating by himself at a booth against the wall four tables away. It was pretty clear that the man was undressing Ashley with his eyes and making no effort to disguise it. Phil cleared his disgusted expression before Ashley caught it.

"Good evening, Phil!" Ben said as he shook the man's hand.

"Good evening, Ben! Ashley, you look amazing in that pretty dress!" Phil said with a wide smile.

"Thank you very much. My, aren't you the gentleman!" she said as she smiled at him with rosy cheeks.

Liliya and Evelyn were directly behind Ben and Ashley. The Russian beauty smiled at Phil and nodded as she moved to the right side of the round table Phil had reserved. Evelyn stepped left to take a seat across from Liliya so they could cover the restaurant with their eyes. The Sergeant spared a moment to smile at Phil. Her eyes went to the empty sixth chair with a woman's sweater over the back. She looked to him.

"Ah, yes. We have another dinner companion," Phil said awkwardly, then looked at Ben. "I hope you don't mind, but Lorraine was quite insistent she be given the opportunity to apologize for the little theatrics back at the Community Center with her costume. She's just powdering her nose in the ladies' room."

"Ah! They're here! Phil, you didn't say they'd be early!" a woman's voice called out behind them.

Ben turned to see a sandy blonde-haired woman rushing toward them with a distressed look on her face.

"They're not early. They arrived on time. Some people believe being punctual is courteous," Phil responded in exasperation.

"Oh Phil, you're so old-fashioned!" she teased, and he rolled his eyes.

Lorraine turned to Ben and turned on the charm. "I'm so sorry I confused you earlier with my performance as Gabriella. I never meant to upset you."

Ben shook his head. "You didn't upset me. At first glance, you certainly did look like Gabriella."

"Let's sit so we can continue in comfort," Phil suggested. Ben nodded, and they took their seats. This forced Lorraine to leave Ben's side and move to the opposite side of the table. She flashed an annoyed pout at Phil, and once more, he silently thanked his younger self for having the wisdom to step back from their relationship.

The waiter arrived, and Phil knew Ben and his security people wouldn't be drinking. He looked at Ashley. "Will you be joining us for a glass of wine?"

"Oh! I think I could have one," she said with a grin.

"Don't be rude, Phil. The other ladies and Ben might enjoy some as well," Lorraine insisted.

Phil gritted his teeth and gave her a stern look. "Liliya and Evelyn are working. They don't drink when they work, and Ben doesn't drink. I'm not being rude."

Lorraine blinked in surprise. "Working?" She gasped and leaned closer to Phil. "They're working girls?"

"Geezus! No! They're his security detail!" Phil exclaimed in shock.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Lorraine gasped in embarrassment.

Ben looked uncomfortably at Evelyn, whose face was turning pink. After a brief glance at Lorraine, Liliya continued to scan the restaurant.

Phil quickly read the wine list and then looked at the waiter. "We'll take a bottle of—"

"Merlot!" Lorraine said with a snort.

"Funny, Lorraine." He looked at the waiter again. "A bottle of your house white, please, and a large bottle of still spring water."

When the waiter left, Lorraine made another attempt to win Ben over. "You mentioned Gabriella was the Goddess of Love. Could you elaborate?"

Ben locked eyes with the woman. "No."

Ashley looked at Ben with a smile, then turned to Lorraine, who looked like someone had popped her favorite balloon. "What Ben means is he won't help with the production of your movie in any way."

"Why not?" Lorraine asked.

Ben answered her. "It's not your story. It's not the movie studio's. It's mine. It belongs to the people I love and me. No one asked for permission to portray my loved ones or me, and if they had asked, I would have said no."

Lorraine looked confused and upset.

Ben shook his head and looked at Phil. "This is something that makes no sense to those who crave the attention. It's almost impossible to get them to empathize."

Phil nodded and looked at Lorraine as he thought for a moment. Then he put on a smile for the woman. "Hey, remember that Christmas party at the producer's mansion in ninety-two? Remember how you accepted those pills then went down on—"

"PHIL!" Lorraine shrieked.

He looked at her curiously. "What?"

"You can't tell that story!" she exclaimed angrily.

He tilted his head, gave her a puzzled look, and he held her eyes with his. "Why? It happened in a public place in front of several of my friends. It's not like it was private or personal. What harm is there in sharing it?"

Lorraine's eyes were widening as her mouth moved silently at first. Then her expression clouded with outrage. "It's embarrassing! It's also deeply personal and—"

"And now you know how Ben feels about having the intimate details of his life exposed to strangers," Phil said with a sad smile. "And maybe you know how I felt that night, too."

Lorraine jumped to her feet, and her chair fell over. The eyes of the other patrons turned in their direction. "You're a fucking bastard! I'm so glad I broke it off with you."

She stormed out of the restaurant, and Phil watched the solitary diner enjoying his view of Lorraine's body in full jiggle mode.

He looked back to Ben. "To be truthful, not that it really matters, I broke it off with her."

Ben smiled at him. "Sorry."

"It's fine. I'm sure she won't start a spiteful smear campaign on social media that I'll be defending myself against for the next five years." He sighed. "I didn't want to bring her tonight, but she's just so damn pushy. Maybe she'll stay out of my life permanently now."

-=-

Renzo watched the angry bitch's tits bounce in her tight dress and thought this was as much a sign to get moving as any. He'd enjoyed a glass of excellent wine and some of his delicious steak, but now it was time for the main course.

Dabbing his mouth with his napkin, he slid from the booth and made sure not to look at the target as Carmine insisted. The washrooms were off to the right, and he stepped inside as another patron was leaving. They exchanged polite nods, then he was alone in the room. Three toilet stalls, and the last one had a maintenance access door on the ceiling, as Carmine said it would. He stepped into the corner, climbed on the toilet seat, and opened the cover. Reaching inside, he felt the handles of a bag and dragged it out. He closed the maintenance cover and sat on the toilet seat. He unzipped the small gym bag, and half a dozen handguns were inside.

Renzo smiled again as he spotted two Desert Eagles, his favorite!

"Nicely done, Carmine," he muttered quietly.

He confirmed they were loaded, then opened his jacket and slid the other four guns into the holsters he'd put on before arriving at the restaurant. He added the extra clips to his jacket pockets as well. Standing in the stall, he looked down at himself, and the clean lines of his suit jacket were badly distorted by all the hardware underneath. He shrugged.

It didn't matter. It was time to kill.

He felt his mind slipping into an almost Zen-like state, where all the noises faded, and he was in total control of himself and his environment.

Leaving the bathroom, a quick glance showed no one was looking in his direction. Good.

Stepping around the corner, he came into view of the target's table. He knew the Russian bitch would be watching. She had to die first.

The Desert Eagle in his right hand boomed, and her surprised expression vanished in a red mist, splashing patrons three tables away.

His eyes shifted to the left to see the Army cunt moving, hand reaching for her weapon. The big gun in his left boomed, and she also lost her head. Her body dropped limply to the floor.

The target was known for his speed and was already on his feet, turning to face him with a look of shock and rage. Putting bullets through both knees negated him as a threat. He crashed to the floor.

Because Renzo didn't care for Phil DeMonte's movies, he also made a big hole through his chest.

As the target screamed in pain on the floor, his blonde bitch was on her knees, clinging to him. Renzo roughly pulled her up by her hair to stand next to him. She had nice tits and amazing legs, but this wasn't the time for that.

It was killing time.

Smiling at the big man begging at his feet, he blew a hole through the bitch and let her fall.

The look of horror on the man's face was the dessert Renzo's meal needed.

Now for the digestif.

Aiming both weapons at Ben Shepherd, he smiled.

"For the families," he said aloud as he squeezed the triggers to hear the thunder again.