Anarchy (25 page)

When she got off the phone, Alfonzo leaned forward, and glanced at his watch, “I hate to leave you alone, is there a friend or somebody who can stay with you?”

She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand, “I don’t know anybody that well
,
and most
of my friends are in L.A
.”

“It’s okay,” he said
. In a friendly gesture his
arms
wrapped
around her in consolation. “
You
’ll
get through this
…”

She turned her face to him and he stiffened as her lips pressed to his
in a more than friendly kiss
.
She was tonguing him down.

Holy shit!

Boldly, Kiki’s hands caressed his crotch, “Please stay.” She whimpered as she kissed and groped his body, trying to spark a nonexistent flame.

Kiki was an attractive, talented and se
xy
woman.
On the temptation meter, she was a seven. Many men might seize the opportunity, after-all, she was willing, vulnerable and horny –but he wasn’t one of them.
She was hurting
, he
understood
that
and
wanted someone to hold
, he understood that too –
yet even guilt
could
not persuade
him
to
betray Selange.
There wasn’t an iota of internal conflict on the issue.

As respectfully as possible he detached her hand, deflecting further exploration down there. She retracted her lips, looking in his eyes with understanding and moved away, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

The awkward situation lingered as he straightened his shirt and rose to his feet. “Get some rest Kiki. Call me when you have details about the funeral, okay?”

She
nodded
her eyes downcast in shame.
“You know the night you
left;
he confided how good it was chilling with you again. He said it was like seeing a brother after a prolonged absence.” She frowned, “He told me, growing-up you always had his back and
was
the best friend he ever had
. H
e hadn’t come across another dude like you since.”

He
stooped
low to plant a kiss on
her cheek,
and then
walked
swiftly
out
the door, not looking back or wanting to.
The mental and physical exhaustion
of the day
exact
ed
an
exorbitant
emotional
toll.
Alfonzo sighed; portions
of his heart
untouched by hate slowly began to corrode.
Somebody had to pay!

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

Alberti preferred the cool ocean breeze of the Mediterranean over the hot tropical climate of
the Lesser Antilles.
Vacationing in
such
places
was
nice for a short
period
but then he craved
his
homeland.

The troubles plaguing Alfonzo weighed heavily on
Alberti’s
mind. In America, the strength of
Giuseppe’s
control lessened,
why
else
w
ould anyone dare
attack
Alfonzo
so publicly?
Hoodlums,
pitiful gang
member
s
whose doctrine spread
senseless violence
. They had no finesse, or subtlety.
Which is the main reason they were mowed down in the gutter or tossed in warehouses they called prisons in the United States. They had not experienced
the
real hell of incarceration until they visited Le
Sante
Prison in France or Diyarbakir Prison in Turkey.

Shooting through
public streets in broad daylight, endangering innocent people was a
testament to their novice depravity.
Today’s
youth
were
impulsive
,
beyond arrogant
and
unable to grasp the sagacity of the art of strategy.

He
‘
tsked
’
, Giuseppe was of their kind
and required continuous nurturing
;
Alfonzo
much
different. The young man possessed
characteristics of a true leader.
He was
charismatic,
studious
and
calculative.
He understood with power comes responsibility and accountability.
The wisest
of men
instinctively
recognize
d
the futility of
negotiation
, weighed
the situation
and
took appropriate action, be it force or fear. There is strength in silence,
yes,
death can come with a
whisper
.

His concern was these hoodlums did not act alone. No, they were paid and he wanted to know by whom?
             

“Aye!”
Alberti said aloud, climbing from the heat of the old taxi
and
stretched his legs
.
His
chauffeur-
guard
settled the fare and looked around.

Nico moved to his version of paradise.
Westmoreland, St. James,
Barbados
in an eight thousand square foot home, atop the Ridge overlooking the Royal Westmoreland and the Caribbean Sea
.
A breathtaking view, Alberti grudgingly admitted.

Alberti climbed the winding rock stairs, pausing occasionally from the exertion. He was certain Nico watched from high above as he drew closer, undoubtedly having a hearty laugh with his brother. Finally, he reached the top and looked down upon the magnificent landscape. He could see the taxi curving along the rolling hills of greenery heading toward town then it faded beneath the trees
,
hidden from view.

Nico had chosen this home well.

At the door of the
modern house
, Alberti noticed the tiny camera
camouflaged above the cornice of the door and waved. He did not wait long for the door to open.
Nico, looking intimidating as ever stood there clad
in khaki shorts and a polo shirt,
his mouth pursed tightly in aggravation. “Damn, how’d you find me?”

“Easy. May we come in?” Alberti replied, stepping around the large figure to get out of the oppressive heat.

Nico eyed the pair as they entered without invit
ation
, pissed about the intrusion. He’d actually believed he retired up until this minute.
He should’ve known better.
His wife’s voice called from the rear of the house where moments
earlier he lounged
in his comfortable wicker seat
watching the
boys swimming
in the pool.

“Who’s at the door?”

“Friends of mine honey,
be
there in a minute!”

Alberti could see the woman and children through the tinted patio doors. A lovely bunch from what he saw. He walked to the functional sofa and sat. He looked about at the minimalist décor and the wide open space giving it a comfortable, inviting quality. He liked it. “Lovely home, very modern
, d
id you have it specifically built?”

Nico joined the men and sat opposite them. His pupils were trained on Alberti, “You haven’t come to discuss architecture, get to it?”

Alberti’s guard shift uncomfortably at
Nico’s
rudeness
,
but the older man smiled, “Ah, Nico,
always very direct, but you are right, I’ve come on business.”

There
were shrieks
of laughter from the young boys
as they engaged in
horse-play.
Nico’s
eyes did not break contact, “Figured that much.”

“Where’s your brother?”

Impatiently,
Nico leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands interlocked, “I don’t keep tabs on Vincent. My brother comes and goes. Why?”

“I hoped to find you both here. I need you
r services.”
Alberti reclined and reached for the cigar peeking from his linen pocket then changed his mind. His wife harangued him about the hazards of smoking around children.
He clicked his tongue in agitation.

“
I’ll pass.
”

“There
was
an attempt on Giuseppe’s life and we believe
the
order
came from
someone connected in the states.”

“So,” he looked at
Alberti’s
guard
. He knew the man. He hailed from
Sicily.
A former soldier for Terry ‘
Snowzer
’
Polini
who participated
in the demise of the powerful International Board of Directors.
He was known for following orders to the letter, a loyal soldier but a dangerous one.
Nico’s
eyes were on the man
to ensure
his hands re
mained in view. Although, he sat quietly, he was not an invited guest, neither was Alberti.
“
Y
ou
’ve
got Wax here and many like him. You don’t need me.”