Family Feud - Part 13

Family Feud - Part 13

Two Mob style families seek revenge on each other as the bodies stack up. Told from the point of view of one of the hired gun "soldiers" involved in the carnage.

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The long wait is over.

A new bloodbath!
Enjoy! 
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Onslaught 2

I stood looking at the inferno still  billowing high above the Lower Westside Neighborhood. Embers shot high into the night sky twisting and spinning in the super heated air, each ember glowing for a time and going dark, never to be seen again.

"Sort of like the lives that were snuffed out in and around that place tonight." I thought, a little sardonically. Knowing that this was no where near the end, I began to prepare myself for the battles ahead. 

"Where you been?" I asked my self-appointed bodyguard. I know the irritation and suspicion was evident in my tone.

"Doing some spying. some lying and a little killing." Jerry smiled at the pause. "I am working on a plan to take out Vito to put an end to this war forever."

"What's the plan?" I asked. "Vito has an army of thugs, paid killers and psychopaths all paid to protect his ass and kill every man in Tony's family and business. - Especially me and anybody attached to me."

"And there's our doorway." Jerry smiled. "Vito is offering 2 million dollars to the man that brings you to him alive so he can kill you himself."

"And I suppose that you are the one that is going to do that for him?" I said. "What's to keep you from double crossing me and letting him kill me and getting the bounty for yourself.?"

"You saved my life for whatever reason when all you had to do was slit my throat or put a bullet in my brain.  I have saved your ass several times over  and you still don't trust me?" he looked at the floor. "I don't know what to tell you except that you can end this if you trust me."

"Everybody tells me that Vito has a plan that will make me willingly walk into his hands.  This sounds like what they are talking about." I pulled my gun out of the holster and made it clear that I was ready for a challenge.

"Put that away.  You know you can trust me.  I know I can trust you."  "I need to make Vito believe that I am betraying you and I need you to play your part convincingly enough to convince him that that is exactly what has happened."

---

Jerry has been there for me many times over but how many men would he be willing to kill to collect a couple of million dollars?

If his past was not wiped clean by someone I might be less worried.  This guy never existed before I first spared his life.  Now he wants me to trust my life to him.

Once again my phone interrupted.

"Carver, where are you?" the voice demanded. It was Hancock.

"We were going over to Grove Street." I answered. "What's up?"

"I'm in the alley one block over from the gym.  I had a man here keeping watch of the people going in and out.  We lost contact with him about an hour ago.  I drove over here and found his body.  Knife in the chest. Split his heart wide open, then just left him there for anybody to find."

"I have his camera.  Maybe he has some stuff we can use on it." Hancock said. "I think we need to clean out this place like we did Vinny's."

"Sounds fine to me." I answered. Hold on, we'll be right over.

We arrived just in time to see our guys load Hancock's man into the van - the knife still embedded in his chest.

"Let me have that knife." I ordered. "I plan on giving it back to it's owner."

Hancock pulled the weapon from the guy's chest, wiped it off a bit and handed it to me.

"We will have a team here in just a few minutes." he said, "Should be enough firepower to clean out the scum in there."

"Hope so." I said as I pulled my bow from the trunk.  "I need this to end." 

I could hear the distinct sound of a motorcycle coming toward us so I signaled everyone back out of sight.  The Yamaha slowed as it pulled up the street, passed us and rounded the turn into the alley behind the gym.

I moved around the buildings between us until I spotted the rider moving toward the loading dock.

I raised my bow and fired.

The arrow struck him in the throat, tearing through his larynx and erupting from his neck just under his helmet.  He jerked and made a short, raspy choking sound as the reflex from severing his spinal chord shot through his body. He wilted into a sitting position against the wall. Probably had no idea what killed him.

Another noise from the back caught my attention. Someone else was back by the motorcycles and heard the noises the other motorcycle rider made as he died.

Again, I raised my bow and fired.

He reached for his chest where the arrow had struck, grabbed the shaft of the arrow and pulled. Grunting with pain, the leather clad victim shuddered and stiffened as he toppled over backwards and lay unmoving on the ground.

I felt a strong hand on the back of my head, pushing me down toward the ground.

"Look out." Jerry yelped fairly loudly. 

I dropped to the ground, trying to see what Jerry was talking about.  He was pointing his gun toward my left. *Peyupp* "Ungh!"

Turning just in time to see a misty red cloud spray from the gunman's temple, I watched as he spun around and landed with a solid thud on the concrete.  The adrenaline rush ripped through my body as I looked for any more targets nearby. I didn't have to look very far as a loud crack from a 9mm echoed off the buildings and sailed past my ear.

*Peuypp* "Ungh!" Thump.

The shooter fell on his back and immediately his partner dove to the concrete using his fallen comrade as a shield.

Jerry fired twice more.  First shot clipped the shooter's left shoulder.  He flattened himself behind his dead partner as Jerry took deadly aim and fired...  The left lens of his sunglasses shattered and his head jerked back. The attacker weakened and fell face down in his partner's armpit with a large hole where his left eye had been.

"Shit, Jerry!" Hancock whispered, "You're damn good."

No time for a victory party - at least not yet.

I listened at the back door.  Nothing. Jerry tapped me on the shoulder and nodded followed by a quick move through the door.

"Yeahh!" the loud yell was followed by a grunt and Jerry bounced back against me as I got in the doorway.

I barely dodged a fist that was aimed at my face but my hand was not empty as I fought back with a strong upward thrust. My blade hit something hard as the expression on the man's face turned from fierce rage to pained horror. He fell backwards to the floor and grasped at the handle of the knife in his chest.

Looking up at my face and back at the knife in his chest, he shuddered with pain with each attempt at breath. Stepping over his heaving body, I reached down and grasped the handle of the knife, sending a shock wave of pain through his body.  A look of horror washed over his face as he began to shake his head pleading for me to leave the knife alone.

He was a good looking hunk, nice full package really hot looking face and as I twisted the blade and yanked it free of his chest, a quick gush of blood erupted from the gash in his chest and he fell limp on the wooden floor, mouth open, lifeless eyes staring at the ceiling.

I looked toward the door to the back hallway as some of Hancock's men pushed the door open and hurried through.  I hears a couple of muffled grunts and the sounds of a scuffle breaking through the half open door as I picked my way toward the inside.

I stepped into the narrow hallway and started toward the locker room.  History has taught me that there is usually someone in there...

Sure enough, on the floor near the showers lay a nude body with a knife driven deep between his shoulders. No sign of his killer but since he was showering here, I had to assume that he was from out of town and met his end at the hand of one of Tony's men.

A slowly spreading pool of blood decorated the floor under his chest with a deep stain of warm, fresh blood that will likely remain long after the body has been removed.

I started toward the locker room but another two-man battle burst in through the door and played itself out in front of me. Dale Clark, one of our "clean up" men was being pushed backward as a dark haired opponent pressed in for the kill.  Dale backed into the wall, which abruptly stopped his backward movement even though his attacker kept pressing in.

Suddenly a flash of steel glinted from his back as the pointy end of Clark's weapon emerged from the about-to-be-dead attacker's back.  They stood together motionless at first as the wound gushed and spilled down the unlucky henchman's back. Soon, however, the impaled victim began to sink to the floor and slid off the sharp blade.

Jerry gently pushed me aside as I stood mesmerized by the death scene before me, the shiny steel, the sticky red blood and the periodic twitches of a freshly killed body adjusting to death. 

Not waiting for me - or anybody else, Jerry hurried upstairs, grabbed the first door and pushed it into the room.

Lying on the bed was a nearly naked body.  He immediately jumped to his feet and fired, barely missing Jerry and me both.

 *Peyupp* "Ungh!" Jerry fired, hitting the guy in his tattooed torso, sending him stumbling backward to land sitting on his bed. 

Quickly raising his weapon again he prepared to shoot back.

*Peyupp* "Ah!"

The shooter went limp and toppled back across the bed, bouced briefly and lay still.  He now had a bloody hole where his right eye had been, a shocked, wide eyed expression from his other eye and a sticky, bloody mess of hair, brains and blood leaking from the back of his skull.

"In here, quick!" I heard Clark call as he entered the next room.

 

Tied in a chair with his throat slit almost to his backbone was what was left of David Greer, One of Hancock's  newer men.

"He was gagged when they killed him," I said. "This was an execution.  Either they got what they wanted or just got sick of trying."

"The blood is drying." Jerry observed."  "He's been dead for quite a while."

"Was it Hoyle?" Jerry asked.

"I doubt it." I answered. "Hoyle likes to stab in through the side of the neck, severing the jugular and usually leaves the knife behind as his little gift.  This looks like the work of Mason Polk.

Moving past the blood covered corpse, I readied myself at the next door. Before I could open it, I heard the latch on the door directly across the hall click and an unsuspecting victim moved into striking distance. 

Just as the barefoot wanderer started up the hallway I met him with a sharp blade thrust in under the ribs tearing through his stomach and spleen.

A nice twist of the knife and the stricken man fell against the radiator and slid awkwardly to the floor, blood streaming from his side.  Maybe it was a bit of vengeful anger or maybe just my sadistic lust for blood but I did not finish him off, choosing rather to let him bleed out on the floor.  I'll check back in a while to see how he is doing.

Turning my attention back to the door next to me, I turned the handle and carefully peered inside...
Inside I found a solitary figure sprawled across his bed, apparently sleeping.  I started pulling my knife out of the sheath and the snap around the handle opened with a soft >pop<... Just loud enough to rouse the sleeping beauty on the bed.
He started to sit up from the bed and go for his gun on the nightstand.  The full force of my knife slamming into his chest forced him back down hard on the bed into a death seizure, tightening every muscle, locking him in place until one by one the muscles relaxed in the peace of death.

I stood over him watching the light in his eyes fade until the death mask froze in that bewildered look of one killed before he had time to react.
Checking through his belongings, I determined that he too was from Chicago. "I'll bill the state of Illinois for services rendered when this is all over."  I quipped.
"I might send them a bill of my own." Jerry added. "Seems that t hey sent their sewer rats here to infest our garbage heaps."
"That's Ok." I replied. "I needed the practice."

Another commotion caught our attention in the next room.
"Aaaaahhh!"
Hurrying to the open door I looked inside just in time to see Jamie holding onto a skin-

headed tattooed guy in a black tee with a long, bloody blade poking out through his back as he slid down, clutching at Jamie as if it was the last thing he would ever do.

A grunt in the adjacent room and the sound of a scuffle again dragged me to the door to see if my to see if my help was needed.

It wasn't.

There was what looked like a guy dressed for business that must have arrived late last night, or early this morning lay on top of the bed, still fully dressed.

Stabbed just below the right collar bone, he might have lived had it not been for Sammy's  swift removal of the knife followed by a careful aim over the heart and the swift jam thrusting the blade through the center of his heart.

Air hissed through Sammy fingers along with a throaty groan as the gasped and tried to scream when the knife plunged through his heart. A gurgling last breath bubbled deep in his throat and quickly went silent.

Running up the steps to the third floor, Jerry on my heels, I opened the door on the left and found a freshly made bed and clean towels.  Nobody here yet.

"I got you, you son of a bitch!" Somebody shouted from the dark. Drew ran into the dark room firing into the blackness.  I found the light switch and flipped it on.

The two gunmen suddenly found themselves face to face in the blinding light. Raising their weapons they took quick aim and fired.

Ba-Bang!!

The florescent light flashed to life just as the two recoiled from the double bullets to the heads and toppled over backwards to sprawl out across the floor, dead. Vito's man lay flat, shirtless on the floor, eyes staring at the ceiling, blood seeping from the hole in his forehead and a massive boner in his pants.  Unfortunately our man lay just as flat and just as dead, without the hard-on.
"Look here!"  Hancock called out.

The body in the next room, gagged, seated on a hassock, two bullets in his abdomen, one in his chest and one last one at the hairline. Another killed while gagged.  Were they just getting rid of guys when they are done with or are they doing something else? I wondered about the actual size of that organ in  his pants.  He was obviously well endowed.

Looking in the next room revealed another body.

This one looked like he was killed while his killer was getting him ready for sex. Clothing tossed on the floor, shoes in the corner, nothing left but his briefs and socks. The body was still warm.

Another noise caught my attention.

Jerry and I got to the door just as Mason Polk came out and started to run for his life.  We were both faster than he was.

Soon we had him tied to a bed and started trying to find out what they already knew.

"You murderous little bastard!" I snarled.

"Yes, I suppose I am." Mason snarled.  "You, of all people should know, Carver!"

"What the hell is going on here?" I asked, grabbing him by the shirt. "How many of our men have you killed?"

His face reddened as the shirt collar tightened around his throat.  Breath wheezed in his throat as I held the grip as tight as I could.

Finally I slammed him back down, letting the little asshole have a little more air. I took my knife and held it against his throat.

"What do you know?" I demanded." What did they tell you before you killed them?"

"Go to hell you asshole!" he snarled. "Kill me!  I'm not going to tell you anything. Kill me now and get it over with."

"Not a bad idea." I admitted, softening my tone with him. I pushed the cold steel of the blade up against the throbbing artery near the back of his jaw. "I'll bet this will open things up quite well..." 

Taking my blade, I turned it over and drew it down from his throat, across his chest to his belt.  Mason cringed as the blade tore it's way down his unprotected body but the pain did not come.  I carefully cut the cloth from the chest out the sleeves and he soon found himself shirtless on the bed. Hancock started to pull the cloth out from under his torso while I made a menacing gesture with the blade toward his gut but turned the blade and slipped it under his belt and gave it a quick yank.

The severed belt made it easy to zip the blade down both legs until there was nothing left on him but his black briefs.

I could see that getting stripped like this was really getting him excited.  The underwear was brief alright -  too brief as the head of his dick poked out the bottom and across his thigh.

Hancock climbed up on the bed and knelt at his side.

"Peace offering?" he asked, pulling Mason's dick out and folding the underwear out of the way. The veins were sticking out all around his cock, his balls were dangling and now flopped lazily as Hancock started playing with our captive's dick.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He snarled, trying to squirm out of Hancock's grip.

"I'm thinking of cutting this thing off, cooking it and making you eat it.

Mason did not respond.

"Or we could shove it up your ass."

"Or down your throat." I chimed in.

Our taunting did nothing to soften his hard-on and Hancock had already started to stroke him.  I signaled for Michael to speed up his strokes.

"You faggots like that?" he snarled. "Figures. So, you don't like it Carver?"

He laughed at his own joke. I couldn't get the pictures of his victims out of my mind.

"You'll never get any answers from me!" He taunted.

"No," I answered, raising my knife. "I won't!"

"Aieeaah!!" he yelped as I drove the knife deep through his belly button.

407879

Family Feud - Part 12

Family Feud - Part 12

Two Mob style families seek revenge on each other as the bodies stack up. Told from the point of view of one of the hired gun "soldiers" involved in the carnage.

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Massacre at Vinnie's Place

A quick phone call to Tony to let him know what had happened with our raid on Vito's Gym and to be sure that he had moved somewhere safe followed by another call to Henry to warn him about the bloodbath at the gym. 

 "I was trying to call you," Henry interrupted, "There are a ton of characters headed for Vinnie's old place and Grove Street.  I alerted a couple of your guys but your phone has been off. Hancock is trying to get backup to both places."

I've got Augie Carson and Carl Porter watching the place to kind of keep track of what's going on but I haven't heard anything new from either of them for a while.  Hope that's good news."

"Thanks Henry, I'll take care of it." 

"Oh, one more thing.  That new friend of yours, Jerry Wilson?"

"Yeah?  What about him?"

"He doesn't exist.  No wants, no warrants, no military record, college, high school, no record at all. Nobody  has anything. Tony calls him a squirrel, I call him a spook.  Nobody has a blank record.  None of it adds up.  I don't know who he is or where he comes from but Jerry Wilson is not his real name."

I stood listening to my friend's impassioned warning about the man that I have grown to trust partially because of the fact that he has saved my life at least twice that I can be sure of and probably more than that because of his insider knowledge of the goings-on in Vito's organization. Jerry has been missing for a while "working an angle" with Vito and his men...

I have to admit that had me more than a little curious, and yes... worried.

"Some or your best friends might just try to capitalize on your trust, they might even cry at your funeral, but you will still be dead." - Henry's warning replayed over and over in my head every time I looked at the guys I trust and work every day.  

"I could use a couple of million myself." I said under my breath.  I could leave this bloodbath and find a nice quiet home somewhere and retire, or maybe find a job as a mechanic to clean up good people's problems for them for a nice per-job fee... I'm good at what I do but it would be nice to do it where I was sure who the enemy really is.

A few phone calls later I had alerted several of my sleeping friends that owed me some pretty big favors and had, in effect, a small army on the move. 

First stop -  while it's still dark is to go back to Vinnie's place and clean up the trash that has collected there.  I knew that Vito's brother Giorgio was going to be in from Chicago with a bunch of his thugs and very likely his three sons and the best of their muscle from the Chicago branch of their mob.  A little fancy for this town but they wouldn't be here for the fun of it - at least not the old man, the sons however, probably still in party mode. This would be a great adventure for them.

"No guns without silencers, knives and arrows as much as possible.  We don't want to wake up the whole bunch at once." I ordered as we huddled behind the neighbor's house for last minute plans.  I spotted one of Henry's pals, Augie, parked down the street where he could watch the place fairly safely.  I wanted to talk to him before going in so I ordered everyone to wait while I made my way to the car. 

I moved up to where I knew he would see me in the mirrors and gently tapped on the trunk lid. I couldn't see much inside but I knew that if he hadn't dozed off that at least he knew I was there.  Moving up the driver's side I looked in the driver's window. 

"Hey, anything happen that we should know abou... Shit!"

He wasn't going to answer.

I felt his cold skin. In the cool night air he might have been dead an hour or all night, I couldn't tell but Henry said he had a "couple" of guys here watching. Where was the other one?

Back behind the neighbor's house I let my guys know what I had found out and tried to contact Henry. No answer but I soon spotted a single figure coming up the street. We held back watching as he approached.  

"Kyle?" the low voice was almost inaudible from where we were hiding.

"Jerry?" 

"I got your message, figured you could use some help." He said in a low voice. Before I could answer the lights of a dark SUV started aiming down the street causing everyone to duck for cover.  The big ass hauler turned into Vinny's driveway and four guys got out, laughing and talking loudly, obviously at least a little drunk.  They pulled a fifth guy out of the back and dragged him inside.  I recognized him as Denny Dorner, a good man.  I had worked with him quite a few times and he was one of Tony's personal bodyguards. No doubt they want to torture Tony's whereabouts out of him. After they had gone inside, we used the distraction to get closer to the house and get ready to go inside.  

The relative commotion inside subsided amidst mumbled grunts, sounds of shushing and muffled laughter as they hauled  Denny off to some place in the house to be tortured and probably killed, hopefully they were tired enough to put that part off until they slept it off.

Slipping up the steps, I peeked inside and spotted the guard sitting on an old ottoman.  He looked quite tired too.  Probably had been on guard duty all night and now, at four-thirty in the morning was getting to the point of dozing off.

"I've got this one." Jerry whispered, holding up his gun with the silencer already screwed on.

"Go for it." I whispered back.

Carefully turning the knob, I opened the door a crack and Jerry took aim through the gap.

*Peyuup*

The guy's eyes opened in a sudden shocked expression and his head slammed backwards against the wall. The small round hole leaked a small trickle of blood that ran down both sides of his nose.  He started to tilt to his left until he had wilted over and his head almost touched the floor. The new posture allowed the blood to drain from his split open head onto the carpeting.

"That's going to stain." I whispered as I opened the door and we filed in as quietly as we could.

Stepping around the body and the growing puddle of dark red blood, I started for the next room but was startled by the sight on the floor in the doorway.

It was Daniel Porter, one of Henry's friends on the force and the second person watching the house tonight.

I had no idea why he was inside the house and he still had his weapon but someone had stabbed him in the neck.  The second person tonight with the same death dealing wound. I began to suspect a particular killer that I knew had been working for Vito's mob in the past and had moved to Chicago a few years back. I can't call Henry yet but he needs to know about his friends as soon as possible.  I want to be the one to tell him.  He at least deserves that.

In the room behind Porter's body I could hear music, turned down low but likely had a wide-awake listener so I headed that way.  Setting my bow aside I pulled my gun and secured the silencer.  Jerry moved up to my side and grabbed the doorknob. I silently counted "Three, Two, One." Jerry turned the knob and threw the door open wide.  The startled occupant of the room looked up just in time to see my first shot struck struck him in the gut just to the right of his navel. 

Jerry's shot hit him top right in his abdomen at almost the same instant as my first shot.  My next shot plowed through his heart and sent a gusher of blood spurting from the hole.  He fell to the floor with a rather loud thud.  That was probably going to bring someone to investigate...

"Spread out! Watch the stairs. We are likely to have some company after that noise." I ordered.

"I hear somebody!" Jerry whispered. "Over here."

Leaning against the wall out of sight from the stairs, I held my place until I heard the footsteps near the bottom of the stairs.

"Hope they aren't expecting me here." I thought.

"Now or never!"

I stepped around the corner into full view of the stair steps. Pointed my gun and fired.

Fortunately the guy was careless.  He was looking at his feet when the first two slugs hit him. By the time he looked up the third bored it's way through his midsection and he fell backward on the steps.  I pumped one last shell through his heart and he jerked upward, stiffened in place for a long, painful moment and then wilted back on the steps.

Climbing the stairs I could hear water running in the bathroom. 

"Cover me."   I ordered.  

I turned the knob but it was locked.  Pulling out a credit card, I slipped it in between the latch and striker plate.   I weighed my options again and opted for the pistol with silencer, mostly because of the ability to fire several shots in rapid succession if need be.

Stepping in I watched as the guy toweled himself dry, finishing with his hair, tossed the towel on the edge of the tub, smoothed his hair and turned toward me.  He looked with a bit of surprise that I was inside the bathroom with him and then with shock as he realized who I was and that I had my gun aimed at his chest. I recognized him too. His name was Eric, and although I had never worked with him, I knew he was a fast and efficient killer and deadly loyal to Vito and his mob.

Before he could speak at all, I squeezed the trigger, my gun recoiled and his chest erupted in a bloody explosion. 

Frozen in a silent scream, he stood there for as long as it took for him to topple over backward, hitting his head on the edge of the tub with a rather loud bang that probably would have killed him without the bullet that blew his heart apart.

"Hey Eric, you ok in there?"...

The voice came from the bedroom next door.  I knew i couldn't sound like Eric so I kept quiet and headed out the door.  The guys in the hall heard the call too. As I stepped out, I got to see David in action with a knife for the first time.  The door opened and a bearded guy stepped out onto the hallway. As soon as he spotted us, David threw his knife, striking him in the gut.

The first reaction was to gasp with the pain and grab for the knife.  I knew the next would be either a scream for help or a loud howl of pain. I couldn't let that happen. Pointing my gun at him I let one shot go.  His throat was now pierced through, his spine shattered at the base of his neck and no chance of any kind of outcry.  He wilted to the floor in a bloody heap.

"We need to sweep these rooms before they all come out to get us.  Let's start at this end." I suggested. "Clean out this place once and for all."

 Moving to the first room at the top of the stairs, Dave was just reaching for the doorknob when it opened and the occupant stepped out into the hall. Instinctively I raised my gun and fired. 

One shot to the temple did the trick and the armed killer twisted around and tumbled face first down the stair steps, laying in a silent sprawl, head on the landing and his bare feet still near the top step. The carpeting had muffled the sound of his death tumble enough that hopefully, no one would investigate.

David went down the steps and pulled the guy's wallet and checked to see and sure enough, another Chicago thug.

"Looks like we're cleaning up two cities at once," he quipped. "I think I'll keep these." he said as he picked up the guy's pistol and pulled a nice knife from his waistband.

"Help yourself." I said. No sense letting them go to waste, or worse yet be used on us later." 

I softly knocked on the next door.  A stirring inside told me that whoever was inside was awake so I readied myself for him.  The door opened and he looked at my face, looked down at my body and smiled.

"Well hello there!" he grinned. What's on your mind handsome?"

"You are." I answered.  His smile broadened.  

"Well don't just stand there, come on in." he invited as he turned around.

"Don't mind if I do." I said as I stepped in behind him.

I didn't hesitate. One quick upward thrust and my blade found his heart. He gasped hoarsely as his pierced heart spilled blood out into his chest and he lost consciousness. He stumbled forward and landed with a solid thud on the floor and lay still.

I turned back toward the door as Jerry entered the room.

"Enjoyed that a bit, huh?" he smiled, pointing to the exaggerated bulge in my jeans.

"He wasn't bad looking. Too bad he was here working for Vito.  We might have hit it off."

"He obviously didn't know who you were.  He should have paid more attention." Jerry said pointing to a piece of paper on the table, partially folded in thirds.  Picking it up I saw my smiling face grinning back at me and the words "Two Million Dollar Bounty" across the top.

Wiping the blade clean across the guy's snug jeans butt, I headed for the door.

"Next one's mine." Jerry announced. "Can't let you have all the fun."

My mind raced through the warnings and suspicions about this unknown element in this whole war. A guy with no history, no traceable origin that claims to be an ex Marine, with all kinds of skills and a knack for killing some of the best killers on the streets... He has repeatedly demonstrated his skills and his determination to join himself to me, repeatedly coming to my rescue as he finds a threat, he warns me or takes care of it on his own.

He tried the next door.  It was unlocked. Opening the door wide, he reached inside and snapped on the light.  The guy laying on the bed in his underwear woke up with a start and quickly swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up.  Still dazed by the bright light, he probably couldn't see who was in his doorway when Jerry threw his knife. 

"Unhhh!" The solid thump and the quick grunt were followed by him stumbling backwards until he fell over the bed and almost off the back side onto the floor.

"Nice throw." I commented as we entered the room. Jerry checked for a pulse while I admired the full package now prominently displayed in his sprawl over the bed.

Giving the firm bulge an exploratory squeeze, I was impressed at the size and firmness.

"Quite the stud." Dave commented, giving the bulge his own test squeeze.

"Who was he?" Chet asked.

Finding his wallet on the dresser, I opened it up and pulled out his license.

"Zack Wallace... Baltimore." I read.  "That's a new one."

"Just two more rooms on this floor." Chet observed.  Must be Giorgio and his boys are up on the third floor."

"Makes sense," Jerry answered. Safest place to be.  The most people to go through to get to them." 

"These guys were supposed to be bodyguards but I don't think that they expected anyone would be able to get in as easy as we did." I suggested. "We really managed to take them off guard."

"Let's finish these last two rooms."

I readied my gun.  Trying the doorknob I found it unlocked.  Quickly throwing the door back I snapped on the light and raised my gun.

"Whoa there!" I stopped with the trigger about half way pulled. Carefully releasing the trigger I hurried into the room and to the figure tied and gagged on the bed.

"Dorner!" I said as I hurriedly drew my knife and started cutting away at the ropes. Carefully peeling the tape  from his mouth and reaching  in to help pull the large ball of tape that they had shoved in his mouth, I helped him sit up on the side of the bed.

He was covered with cuts and bruises. His right knee was badly swollen from being bashed with a baton and his back had deep cuts and welts.

"Those bastards were knocking the shit out of me trying to find out anything they could about you." he coughed and spit up several gobs of coagulated blood. "I didn't tell them anything Kyle. They want your head.  Vito wants you alive so he can kill you himself."

"Yeah, I heard." I answered.

"Listen Kyle, they were talking between themselves while they thought I was unconscious... Vito has a trap set up for you.  He says that if it works that you will willingly walk right onto his hands."

"Thanks, I'll be careful.  I promise." I answered.

"Hey man. Hang in there and we'll get you to the hospital." I said. "We have to finish sweeping through this place. Can you hold on for a few more minutes?"

"If you're going to kill that son-of-a-bitch and his fucking bastard sons, I want to help!"

He was emphatic about it but I convinced him to wait for us in the car. He was too weak to move fast and pretty shaky on his feet.

"Let Chet help you downstairs while we finish up in here. He can get you to the car and then to the hospital." I helped him to his feet. "Chet, get him downstairs and in the car. We'll finish up here and be down as soon as we can."

"Sure thing boss...  Be careful up here."

"Count on it." I answered.

"No, seriously," he nodded toward Jerry as Jerry was leaving the room, "Be careful."

I patted him on the shoulder and he started the trip down the stairs with his unsteady charge in tow.

"Last room on this floor." I said. Lets go.

Heading for the last door at the end of the hall, I again readied my gun.

*Knock* *Knock*

"Just a second." the voice inside said.

A click and the door started to open.

"What?" he said as he looked into the bright light of the hallway.

I delivered a hard punch to the guy's solar plexus and he folded up and dropped to the floor.

I took aim and delivered one shot to his back.  I saw blood splatter out from his chest, painting the carpeting with pieces of heart and bone mixed with an abundance of blood.

He slowly wilted down as his stiff muscles gave way to the limpness of fresh death. His naked body lay in a pathetic heap on the floor, never to move again.

Not quite sure what made it happen, maybe a trip to the bathroom, but I heard footsteps coming down the stairs from the third floor. It was Andre, Giorgio's long time personal bodyguard.

I fired.  The first shot hit low in his gut - left of his bellybutton. He crouched with the pain and lost his balance, falling down the remaining steps.grabbing at the handrail he turned over onto his back and slid toward the bottom step.  He arrived at the bottom at the same time I did.  I pointed my gun at his chest as he cringed, waiting for the kill shot.

*Peyuup*

His body jerked with the impact. A slight bloody spray puffed from his nose and mouth and his eyes clenched tightly shut as the final burst of pain jarred his nervous system at the moment of death. The shot brought the smell of gunpowder and burnt hair to the room.  A small curl of smoke still wafted up from the hole in his chest as his tight muscles relaxed for the last time.

No weapon. Checking the body for any clues showed no weapon, no ID. He must have wandered downstairs for a drink of water or a trip to the bathroom. Other than his bathrobe, his underwear, a watch and a small gold bracelet, there was nothing. Andre must have been confident of his safety. His fatal mistake.

I gathered up my bow and ordered everyone "No guns, silenced or otherwise... Arrows or knives only.  The party boys had only gotten home a short time ago and were likely to still be wide awake.  Other than the sound of the air conditioning, there will be very little to mask any noise we might make. There were five rooms upstairs. One of the rooms would have been the now-dead bodyguard's room, unless, of course, the "bodyguard" wasn't really that at all but somebody's sex partner for the night... That would explain the total lack of weapons on his body. I knew that the room at the end of the hall was the master bedroom and Giorgio would be in there. Hopefully none of them will have any company in their rooms.  "If they do, don't hesitate to kill  their company on sight.  Male or female, assume the worst and don't give them the chance to kill you."

At the top of the steps Dave readied his mini crossbow as we prepared to open the first door.  I carefully turned the knob, turned to Dave and nodded as I pushed the door wide.

The guy in the room was laying back on his bed, fully dressed and sat bolt upright at the sound of the door being opened.

*Click*  *Thunk* "Uhhhh!"

It was the real bodyguard, Scott Garner.  He grabbed at his chest as the searing pain shot through his being.  He moaned softly as his life fled away and he promptly fell back on the bed in the same position that he had been in when we disturbed his nap and replaced it with a more permanent rest.

I couldn't help thinking how sexy he looked laying on that bed with that bolt standing proudly out of his chest.  What a hot way to go...

I listened at the next door and heard something I was hoping for... snoring.  Whoever was in there was sound asleep and not likely to cause any problems. 

"I know these people and they know me. Maybe it's best if I'm the one to kill them." I said. "Besides, this is personal."

"Be my guest" Jerry said, "Just be careful."

I quietly opened the door and slipped inside.  There sprawled out on the bed was Giorgio's youngest son Steven.  Twenty four years old and a handsome specimen of manhood but unfortunately smelled strongly of whiskey and absolutely helpless. If he was awake he would be at my throat but this way would be quick and merciful compared to anything else.

The thrust was quick and solid. The knife slammed down through his chest and slammed into his backbone with a gritty crunch.  Steven's last breath became a loud snort but he did not react, did not wake up, he did not move. He simply stopped breathing. Such a shame to end his young life like this but thanks to his father and uncle, he was condemned to death either by me or someone trying to stop the family's murderous practices.

Drugs and guns bring their own rewards and they seldom end well.

The next room had the sounds of a television playing softly coming through the closed door. The smell of cigar smoke seeped through the cracks and let me know that whoever was inside was probably wide awake and likely to be quick to respond to anyone coming into the room.  

No time to waste.  I nodded to Jerry who grabbed the doorknob and pushed it wide open.

I spotted my target standing by the bed and fired. 

The shaft fond it's mark, although it was a little low.  The growling groan that escaped from his throat demanded quick action.  I rushed into the room and knocked him back onto his bed, cupping my hand over his mouth to silence any possible cries for help.  He struggled against my hand and tried to grab at my throat but the arrow had done it's work and he was rapidly bleeding to death internally as each beat of his heart pumped most of his blood flow out into his abdominal cavity. He started shivering as a chill started to wash over him and his struggle grew rapidly weaker. Soon he was panting, gasping for air before a strong convulsive reflex arched his back in a death spasm and he collapsed across the bed, his muscles still rigid but no longer guided by any sign of life in the ruined body.

"That was Benjamin, Giorgio's oldest." I announced.

"The last room before the master bedroom must have Anthony - 'Tony.'"  I said. "He's just a year younger than Ben was."  I listened at the door and couldn't hear anything. There was a light on inside so he might be awake, he might be passed out like his younger brother. I couldn't tell.

"Go ahead, open it." I nodded to Jerry as I readied another arrow.

He pushed the door open and I stepped inside. Young Tony was lying on the bed fully clothed 

*Fwip* Thud* "Unhhh!!"

The arrow went completely through and embedded itself in the mattress, nailing him to the bed. He looked up at me and tried to speak but couldn't quite get the strength. He shuddered with agonizing pain as his life ebbed away and I honestly felt a little sorry for him.
There's a joke! A hit man with a conscience. Cold blooded killer for hire feeling sorry for his victims.  "That shit will get you killed." The words Frank and I used on each other many times echoed in my mind.  Still I felt bad that they had to die for the sins of their father. It was finally time that I fixed their problem, even if it is to late to save them.


"Let's finish this shit with this bastard." I said, covering Tony's face with a pillowcase.

I dropped my bow, peeled off the quiver and dropped it to the floor. Pulling out the knife that I removed from officer Porter's neck, I readied myself for Giorgio.  He was going to be very upset with me in a very short time.

Trying the door at the end of the hall I found it locked.  There was no place to slip a credit card in by the striker plate.

"I can get that." Jerry said, pulling a lockpick set out of his pocket.

I stepped back while Jerry knelt down and in a few seconds he stood up and quietly turned the knob, which silently opened the heavy oak door revealing the leader of the Chicago branch of Vito's growing empire, sleeping soundly in what was about to become his deathbed.

I hurried across the floor and jumped up on the bed, landing with my knees on either side of his abdomen.  He jerked awake but found himself weighted down and when he spotted the knife, he stopped his futile struggle.

"Carver, you fucking bastard! Who the fuck do you think you are coming here like this.  My boys will cut your faggoty ass to ribbons. You'll never leave this house alive."

"I don't think I have very much to worry about here Giorgio, they are all dead." I said.

The shocked look on his face was something I had hoped for.  This bastard was responsible for so much death, both here and in Chicago. He was at least partly responsible for turning Vito against Tony and convincing him that going legit was a fool's errand and the real money was in the drugs and guns.

"My boys?" Giorgio asked with a shaky voice.

"They are all three safely tucked away in their beds down the hall." I said with the best smile I could manage. "Sleeping like three rotting corpses."

"Nooooo!" he yelled, a lot louder than I was quite ready for. "Noooo! Not my boys...Nooo!" "You fucker! I'll kill you myself"

"I hardly think so.  Don't blame anybody else for their deaths.  You killed them just as surely as if you had cut their hearts out with your own hands.  Just how long did you expect them to live with the cutthroats you surrounded them with? Illegal gun runners, drugs, hit squads... You killed your boys by your heartless treatment of innocent people that had the misfortune of falling into your damage area. How many have died because of a bad load of drugs? How many died because of guns you put in the hands  of street gangs?"

"You going to kill me with that knife or preach me to death?" He snarled, struggling to get his hands free from under my knees. I heard the sound of guns being cocked as Jerry and Dave made it clear that any bad move would result in a hail of bullets.

"Recognize  this knife?"  I asked him.

"It's a fucking knife.  What about it?" he snarled.

"You broke the code. I pulled this out of Officer Dan Porter - a cop!  You know the rules, NO COPS, NO INNOCENTS! If they ain't in the game, they ain't targets. You start killing cops and you bring the full weight of law enforcement down on our heads. Dan porter is dead downstairs and Augie Blake is dead in his car out on the street."

"I had nothing to do with that."

"Bullshit!" I barked back.  They were both stabbed the same way, one well placed stab to the neck."

"The neck?" he repeated. "Then it was Hoyle. That's his specialty. You should know that ."

I not only should have, I did remember.  I remembered Hoyle from a few years back when he was still in town.  He tried to get me to use his technique to kill.  He said "The nerves in the neck are particularly susceptible to pain and when you stab through the side and sever the artery, there is a sudden searing pain that causes the system to go into immediate shock, the victim is unable to speak and frozen in place as his heart pumps the body dry, causing a silent and excruciating death."  Sick bastard.

"I'll remember that." I said. "I think we are done here."

"Done?" he asked, looking up at my face.

"You don't think I'm here to admire your fit looking old body do you?  I intend to end this for you right here and right now." 

"Go ahead, fucker.  You're still a dead man.  Vito will have his way with you. You'll never see it coming."

"Then you will have a small advantage over me, won't you?  Watch this and you'll not only see it coming but you will feel every inch of this blade as it becomes the key to the gate of hell.  Allow me!"

I slowly and deliberately pressed the knife blade into his chest as he squirmed and struggled.  I watched his eyes flash wide as the blade grated trough his ribcage and continued on to his heart. A sudden gasp let me know that it had arrived and was pressing hard against the tough membrane around the tireless muscle. I could feel the throbbing resistance as I continued to press until suddenly the blade broke through and ripped out through the backside of his heart and he suddenly relaxed from his struggle.

Giorgio looked quite peaceful now - if you ignore the trickle of blood running down his chin and the large knife in his chest... He was now with his sons - forever.

I became aware of something else... A firm bulge had grown up under my ass and his stiff cock was pressing against the ass of my pants, which gave the guys quite a laugh - at my expense.

"Let's get the hell out of here." I said, heading for the door. "Let's get Porter's body outside. I've had it with this place."

I got on my phone and called Henry.

"Porter's dead. So is Augie Blake. Hoyle is back in town and he killed them both. I aim to get that bastard and give him a taste of his own medicine."

Henry was real quiet. "You know what this means." He finally said.

"Yeah, I know. The whole thing is going to blow up in all our faces." I paused, thinking.

"What if we try to make this look like an unrelated killing?" 

"That will be hard to do." he said.

"Not if the evidence in Vinnie's place doesn't point anywhere.  I got Porter's body out of the house and I'm going to burn this place to the ground."

"Go for it." He said.  I'll try to take care of our guy's bodies from here.

I gave the guys orders to go inside, turn on the gas burners in the sauna and kitchen, soak the rooms with gasoline and get ready.

Henry arrived with a couple of his men to take care of his fallen comrades and watched as I struck the match that initially blew out all of the windows in the place. Within moments the whole house was an inferno. There would be little left to identify inside and one of the nests of crap in the city would be gone for good.

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