Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
“Hearts of the operation,” I said. “The Russians grew fast, but to do so, they had to be sloppy. Most of these are only half-owned by them.”
“Or less,” Tallon offered. “Intel suggests a lot of the ones near our territory, ” he said as he pointed to a few push pins unsettlingly close to the compound, “are more aesthetic presences than anything official.”
I nodded at him.
Gabriele pointed to a red push pin, then a yellow one. “Do these colors have meanings? Should we plan around that?”
I waved my hand at Tallon. I knew, but it had been his idea. He smiled.
“Green is drugs. The only ones that made it to this level are big-time cookers, so anybody who goes there is going to have to be prepared for explosives,” he said. “Red is warehouses, and yellow is major safehouses.”
Gabriele hummed. “We could hit the hearts, then run cleanup when they scatter?”
“One more thing.” I pointed to a black-painted pin in the heart of the city, barely a block from the Questura, the Florentine police headquarters. “That’s Lorenz’s primary safe house.”
Tallon and I were surprised when Sal had that particular piece of information. It turned out that his being a rat who was totally willing to sell out to the highest bidder with no provocation made him desperate to learn a lot of valuable things about the Russians.
Alessandro smiled viciously. “Maybe we hit there tonight, scare ’em for whatever comes next.”
Gabriele glared at him. “And give them a chance to flee? We need to finish them this time.”
“Sorry.” Alessandro put his hands up. “I just don’t want him running around any longer than necessary.”
I breathed out slowly through my nose, trying to stay the Don rather than the furious, vengeful father. I nearly left as soon as Sal gave that up, but I knew it would be stupid. If we didn’t do this right, we might as well not do it at all.
“Nobody does,” I said through gritted teeth. “But early strikes are exactly the sort of fuck-up I won’t be having this time around. Last time, he slipped through our fingers.” I met Alessandro’s eyes, then Tallon’s. “Not again.”
They nodded in unison.
“I think Gabriele has the right idea,” I said more calmly. “We’re not going to get enough impact from a single hit, so we’re going to have to spread thin and be ready to scatter. The placement of his safehouse is obviously a taunt, but we can’t know whether he actually has enough polizia to pose a significant threat in that sector.”
“So we need eight team leaders,” Alessandro said. “At least.”
“I’ve considered that.” I’d considered everything. “For a while, I thought it would be smartest to assign each of us a team and give four to other men I trust, but I’ve changed my mind.”
I paused. All three men paused with me, waiting for my pronouncement. I’d gotten into the habit of little tricks like this when I first became Don, just testing how much other people were really willing to listen to me, but I’d given them up over the years. I didn’t need them when I knew this would happen every time.
This time, I did it as a different sort of test. I wanted to see if it gave me the same rush it used to, knowing I was the only thing holding three extremely dangerous criminals in check, and they would wait as long as it pleased me.
Instead of the sharp rush of power, I just kind of felt like an asshole. These men were my family and old friends. I didn’t need to hold my silence over their head to feel important.
“Gabriele and I will go together, and lead the team on Lorenz’s safe house.”
Tallon blanched and Alessandro made a small, disgruntled noise, but I put up a hand.
“Part of making sure there are no fuck-ups is putting the best people in the best positions to do the best work.” I looked at both brothers. “He knows your weak spots already, at least well enough to escape you once. I know you’re both very different people now, but I can’t take that risk.”
Tallon dropped his head. “That makes sense.”
Alessandro scowled at the map but didn’t say anything.
I looked at Gabriele, who shrugged. I shook my head. I could deal with Alessandro’s sulk later.
“Gabriele, can you draw up a list of the five best, immediately available people?” I asked.
“It’s basically already done. I guessed something like this was coming.”
I nodded. “Alright. Now let’s get into the weeds. How do we get in–” I began, pointing to a random colored pin, “there?”
Hours passed in a blur. Ins and outs, police patrols and street names raced through my mind like tape in a tape player. I argued back and forth with my men, hammering out every detail of the perfect assault on the Russians.
When I looked up, it was late again. Olivia rocked a pajamaed Elio in her arms, clearly preparing him for bed. And the plan was done.
I stared at the map, now scribbled all over with little black and red arrows.
“We’ll be spread thin,” Tallon said.
“Not thin enough to screw us,” Gabriele replied. “And that’s all that matters for an attack this massive.”
I nodded. “Can we have everyone ready by tomorrow night? We’ve already waited long enough to set all this up.”
“They took your son.” Gabriele’s gaze grew hard. “You say jump, and half our men’ll take flight.”
Alessandro crossed his arms. “I’m ready now, and I doubt I’m the only one.”
Tallon nodded. “I’ll make sure they’re ready.”
I looked from them, to the map, to my wife on the tiny receiver.
“Tomorrow night,” I said. “Go tell everyone.”
The three of them trooped out, and quiet reigned over my office. I sighed heavily. Our plan was good, good enough that I shouldn’t be worried. But somehow my mind kept straying back to Sal on the floor of that warehouse, bleeding and staring at us as we fled. Nothing should’ve gone wrong then, either.
I ran a hand through my swiftly graying hair and realized with a shock that it was trembling slightly. I was scared, scared of going out tomorrow night, triumphant already with this stupid plan, and getting hurt.
I slumped against the table. Did I ever think of retiring? Yes, all the goddamn time these days. How could I not, when I knew every step out my front fucking door could leave Olivia widowed and Elio fatherless?
The portraits of all the Dons before me stared down at me. Most of them had wives, and several had families. They endured the life despite the danger. I always thought I’d be able to when my time came.
I took a deep breath. I needed to go see Olivia.
*Olivia*
I rocked Elio to sleep, singing to him quietly. Since his return, he’d had trouble going to bed at night. I glanced at the window, moonlight streaming through the new bars across it, and wished I could explain to him all the security measures that we’d put in.
My singing faltered, and I swallowed. Elio clutched at my shirt. No, I didn’t want that. I wished my son didn’t have to fear going to sleep in case he woke up, drugged, in a strange location again.
I stroked his hand and picked up the song again before his eyes could open, an old folk-rock song my mother used to sing to me when I couldn’t fall asleep at night.
As his tiny fist started to soften, the door creaked open. My head shot up, but it was only Gio, backlit by the light in the room. I put a finger to my lips and kept up the song.
Gio crept into the room and stroked Elio’s small cheek. As though he was waiting for proof of his father as well, Elio’s hand dropped off my shirt, and his head fell back.
I smiled and kept singing as I stood and walked to his crib. Gio trailed after us like he couldn’t quite bear to be more than a few feet away. I eased Elio into his crib, and he only stirred enough to grab the blanket I placed over him and tuck it under his chin.
