No Room for Mercy (66 page)

Naomi,
Phillip and Grover had cold, dead stares planted on their faces as
the limousine rocked down Interstate-90 headed towards the Indiana
state line. Naomi was crushed that her childhood friend had flipped
and she was glad Finland didn’t know of her whereabouts in
Oklahoma.

“
There
was reason you weren’t invited to my husband’s funeral,
Finland,” Naomi said calmly. “Doss always had his
reservations about you, but I didn’t believe him. Oh, but how
right he was.”

“
That’s
what you think, Naomi? You think I would’ve given up you and
Doss? Well, I didn’t! But Asa Spade? Asa Spade is a nobody!
He’s nobody! We can get past this!”

“
I
promised the Asians that I would take care of you for giving up Asa
Spade. My job is nearly done. You and I will forever be friends,
Finland—we just can’t do business because you have a big
mouth.” Naomi said as she racked her .9mm and waved it in
Finland’s direction.

Finland
turned to Phillip and Grover and pleaded for mercy. “I’m
sorry,” he said. “Give me, give me a chance to make it
right. Please.”

The
limousine slowed for traffic on the interstate and Finland tried to
escape. The doors were locked from the outside, however, and Naomi
wasted no time in pulling the trigger and shooting Finland in his
upper leg. He leaned back and clutched his thigh and screamed aloud,
banging on the window with his free hand, trying to get motorists
attention, but it was in vain. The mirror tint shielded him and his
plight from the rest of the outside world.

Seeing
her friend in pain touched Naomi. She and Finland had over forty
years of history, but she’d never imagined he would turn into
the man he was on this day. “Please, Naomi,” Finland
cried. “Please, don’t do this to me!”

“
My
family means the world to me, Finland. You’ve weakened us and
the business we’re involved in. There’s no room left for
you, il mio amico,” Naomi said as she aimed the gun at
Finland’s head and let loose with three muzzled shots. Finland
slumped back, gasped several times, coughed up blood and began
trembling. A bullet to the heart seized his movements and Naomi,
Phillip and Grover sat quietly as Martha guided the car through the
dense traffic and made her way over to a car crusher in Gary,
Indiana.

Ironically,
it was the same car crusher where Finland’s step-father,
Lester, had been disposed of by Mendoza and Lucky back in the late
sixties. The old man who ran the business was mob-affiliated and had
ties to Twenty-Third Street Mafia once upon a time. He received a
$25,000 dollar disposal fee and the limousine was crushed before
Naomi’s eyes as she stood under the falling snow flurries,
eyeing what would become her childhood friend’s final resting
place.

Eastside
Bar
had
been sold already, Kevin and Serena’s homes, along with Lucky
and Mildred’s home and Mendoza and Francine’s home back
in Cicero were destined to be put on the market for sale in the near
future through the upstart real estate company Naomi was planning to
open down in Oklahoma City.

The
old ways of the Italian Mafia based out of Cicero that’d once
run the rackets for over eighty years had reached the end of the line
in October of 2006. The Holland-Dawkins family was now in a position
to run the business alongside the Asians, who by all accounts, were
in a weakened state. The feds knew not of the Holland-Dawkins
family’s existence and their crew was still intact and going
strong.

A
new family was on the verge of seizing power in the Midwest, and they
were more than capable of running the rackets as their skills were
more adept to the fast-paced, cutthroat society that was becoming
more and more prevalent on the streets of America’s heartland.
With that being said, the family still had unfinished business to
clean up inside their own house before they could move forward with
the rest of their plans.

*******

“
It
done snowed already. It’s only October and the ground here is
covered with snow,” Mendoza said as he walked out onto the
porch with DeeDee, Junior and Flacco following close behind. It was
all but a few hours after Naomi, Phillip and Grover had left the car
crusher, and Mendoza and company were preparing to tour the land in
full.

The
Cernigliaros had bought a trek of land in Cut Bank, Montana. A town
of around 3,000 citizens located 120 miles North West of the city of
Great Falls, twenty-three miles west of Interstate-15 and only thirty
miles south of the Canadian border. This part of the country was high
and dry, but fertile.

During
the day, when there were no snow or rain clouds, the sky was a
pristine and clear light blue. Set against the flat span of land,
Mendoza often joked that he could see Canada from his front porch.
Big sky country was what the people here called it; but it was the
night sky that ruled supreme in this most picturesque and serene part
of the country that many knew only as a dot on a map if they ever
knew of its existence at all.

From
here, in the little town of Cut Bank, Montana, the aurora borealis,
or ‘northern lights’, which were charged particles of
atoms that lit up the night sky in all colors on the prism with hues
of green, red, yellow and blue could be seen clearly with the naked
eye along with countless stars that twinkled in the night sky.
Mendoza and Francine had literally bought a front row seat to the
rest of the universe as the night sky here was one of the most
fascinating pieces of celestial artwork the human eye could ever
witness on the planet.

Many
of the people in this part of the state grew wheat fields. The
Cernigliaros weren’t agriculturists by a long shot, though.
They were planning on breeding horses on the fertile land, which
totaled fifty acres. Their home, a ranch-style four bedroom,
two-story wooden structure, was nearly complete, save for an island
kitchen counter, the bricking of the fireplace, and sinks and tubs
inside three of the four bathrooms.

The
Cut Bank Cottage, as the Cernigliaro’s home would become known,
was a smaller version of the guest house on the Holland Ranch, and
would become another destination for the family as the town of Cut
Bank was only forty miles or so from Glacier National Park, which lay
to the west. It was the perfect getaway for friends, lovers and
others to enjoy beautiful scenery in an atmosphere of piece.

Mendoza
eyed the snow-covered land as the men left the front porch of the
home, which faced north, and walked to their left where Mendoza had a
kennel set up beside the home. “I went into town and was
looking for a breed of dog to help out, to help out in the keeping of
the horses Francine and I are going to purchase from Naomi, right?”
Mendoza said as he led the men towards the kennel.

“
What
kind of dogs you bought, granddad?” Junior asked as he eyed the
wide span of land, land that was barren in his eyes and flat beyond
compare.

“
I
was thinking of bloodhounds like Naomi has, but they were five
hundred dollars apiece.” Mendoza said as the men walked under
the darkening grey-clouded skies. “So I went another route.”

“
Five
hundred each ain’t bad, Senor Mendoza,” Flacco chimed in.
“That is about the price Naomi paid for her animals years ago.
You can breed your own from there like the family has been doing.”

“
You
didn’t know he was a cheapskate, Flacco?” Junior joked.

“
I
ain’t a cheapskate, son. I’m just not paying five hundred
dollars for some stupid animals that I have to feed everyday just to
have them crap all over the place. I got a better deal anyway with
the ones I got from this breeder I found in the papers. They’re
perfect for the land.”

The
men all walked over to the kennels Mendoza had set up where they eyed
five Dachshunds—wiener dogs. DeeDee, Junior and Flacco were all
silent as they stared at the miniature animals, trying to figure out
what on God’s green earth was Mendoza going to use these
proton-sized creatures for on the ranch. What possible purpose could
they serve in the aiding of the breeding of horses? They were useless
in their eyes.

Flacco
removed his ten gallon hat and scratched his head. “Is this
going to be your alarm system, Senor Mendoza,” he asked.
“Because these low-bellied creatures can’t do anything
but alert you of an intruder.”

DeeDee chuckled. “
Can’t
even bite an ankle they so low to the ground. Reminds me of a
sixty-four Chevy with them, umm, them—”

“
Hydraulics,”
Junior said.

“
Yeah,”
DeeDee said pathetically as he stared down at the hapless mammals.
“Can’t do shit with these…maybe they can tackle a
chipmunk if they gang up and go hard.”

“
I’d
put my money on the chipmunk, Senor Doss,” Flacco said as he
held onto his hat and looked down upon the dogs sadly. “Why do
I feel like eating a hot dog all of a sudden?” he then asked.
“Keep seeing foot-long buns running through my mind.”

Mendoza
chuckled and said, “I brought an ass, for this place, too. He’s
out by the woodshed to the north. Let’s ride over there and
take care of ‘em, you guys.”

“
What
are you going to do with a donkey?” Junior asked through
laughter.

“
I’m
gonna take care of his ass, son. What you think? Come on. Let’s
ride over there, and I guarantee that this ass I got will be the most
beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.”

The
men piled into Mendoza’s Durango and rode up a dirt road that
traversed the western edge of the property, Flacco driving and Junior
sitting in the front passenger seat. DeeDee sat behind Junior and
Mendoza sat behind Flacco.

Mendoza
brushed the lint off his black silk sacks, pulled down on his fedora
and placed a pair of sunshades over his eyes as he crossed his legs
and stared out the window, scanning his glorious land and imaging in
his mind the events that were about to unfold.

DeeDee
coughed, choking back tears in a state of disbelief. He couldn’t
believe all the events that had led up to Doss’s death. It was
the ultimate act of betrayal in his eyes.

Flacco
had been given a new position within the family. He was to be a
bodygaurd when needed and this day was to be his test. His
introduction into the life. Doss had shared a few things with Flacco
from time to time, but never revealed his true self. All he told
Flacco was that if he were to ever get killed, to look after his
family. Flacco agreed and he was now holding true to his word. He
understood the nature of the family business fully and had made up
his mind that he would remain loyal to the people that had taken care
of him and his family from day one. He drove across the land in
silence as the intro to Pink Floyd’s song
Shine on You Crazy
Diamond Part One
played over the sound system with its bluesy
drums and pounding bass line.

Francine
and Tiva, meanwhile, were inside the home sitting at the kitchen
table as Malaysia and Malara slept soundly on the C-sectional velvet
sofas. Tears were running down Francine’s cheeks. She’d
co-signed to this day after learning of the tragedy surrounding
Doss’s death and the truth behind her illnesses after her
mastectomy and plastic surgery, a time in which she was purportedly
to be cancer-free. Francine’s mafia loyalty was never in
question. She would go along with Mendoza no matter the depth of the
decisions her husband had to make. Still, the weight of the day held
no consolation.

Tiva
sat with her legs crossed, her bottom lip trembling as she looked
over to her daughters while staring at the printed out message she
held in her hands.
They’re leaving now. I’m in the
CLK. They’ll be pulling out first in the Suburban.

Tiva
had grabbed Junior’s phone to call her sister just seconds
before Bay was shot and her father was killed. She’d held onto
Junior’s phone when she hopped out of the car to try and help
Dawk protect her father and sister.

Junior
was certain he’d deleted the text, but yet it remained. Tiva
had stumbled upon the text while she was calling Martha and it was
nothing for her to report back to Mendoza what she’d uncovered.
By the time Naomi had met up with Phillip and Grover in Saint Louis,
there was no doubt left as to the fact that Junior was in on Doss’s
hit. Purposely mentioning where Phillip and Grover would be staying
in Cicero during the meeting in Saint Louis, and the appearance of
Q-man, Dead Eye and Big Bounce at that address in Cicero, had only
cemented the fact that Junior was indeed the mole inside the
Holland-Dawkins family.