The Crypt (18 page)

Tony looked down at one of the weapons on his desk. “I’m a collector of weapons and ammunition.”

“I can see that. You have enough to arm a small militia on one desk.”

“I love guns, but more importantly I love bullets. Guns don’t kill people, bullets do.”

“If you say so.”

She began going over in her head how possible an escape would be. She now knew how she was going to use the fire. She also knew what she would do next. It was all coming together fast. But getting upstairs and leaving a fortified town made of stone before any of the hundreds of Tony’s followers or supporters stopped her, could prove difficult.

Something crashed above them. In unison they all jumped.

“Vincenzo, go upstairs and see what happened.”

One of the men on the couch got up and ran from the room.

Parkman’s escaping. Everything is right with the world again. My turn now.

“Let me tell you a parable of how I live my life,” Tony said. “Maybe it’ll help you understand how I am always one step ahead of you.”

He paused to set the gun in his hand down and pick up another. She watched as he dropped the magazine out of the handle and began loading bullets into it from an open carton on the corner of the desk. Sarah adjusted herself in her seat to be ready when she felt the moment was upon her.

“Two men are hiking through the African jungle. They can feel they’re being watched but they can’t tell who is stalking them. A few moments later, out of the bushes on their right, a lion emerges and snarls at them. He appears to be ready to charge, fangs bared and his breathing is aggressive. One of the men sits down on a nearby rock and begins to open his backpack. The other guy stands there in shock as he watches his friend pull out a pair of running shoes and start to put them on. The guy watching says to his friend, ’Hey, what are you doing? Are you crazy? You can’t outrun a lion.’ His friend finishes tying the last lace and stands up. ‘I don’t have to outrun the lion. I only have to outrun you.’” He stopped arming the weapon in his hand and looked directly at Sarah. “And that’s how I handle problems like you, Sarah.”

“If I’m following you correctly, I’m the lion but you’re going to be okay because even if someone goes down it’ll be other people. People that are not as elevated as you, or as quick. In other words, you’re wearing running shoes.”

“Precisely. You will die in this crypt and I may or may not have a problem with the authorities. But even if I do, after you and Drake are gone, I’m isolated enough that it won’t hurt me.”

Sarah shook her head. “You really do sound like Tony Soprano, but I will tell you, you’re not above the law. If I can’t take you down I will just have to kill you.”

He lifted his weapon and aimed it at her. “Big words for a captive girl. You’ve got some balls coming in here and threatening me. You still don’t get it, do you?”

Sarah stared at him, watching his eyes for movement, on edge, waiting for him to shoot.

“You are being held here as my captive. You will never leave Montone. You will die here, in this crypt. And yet you talk big, like you’re the one in charge. Can’t say I’ve ever met anyone like you before. But before I shoot you, tell me one more thing.”

“What’s that?” Sarah asked, happy that her voice didn’t crack. It really pissed her off to have a loaded weapon pointed at her.

The sound of gunfire came to them from upstairs.

Tony cocked his head. “What was that?”

“My backup,” Sarah joked.

“Bullshit.”

Sarah saw the gun waver a little. It moved to her left a notch and then the weapon erupted.

Tony fired a small caliber bullet from five feet away. The sound of the bullet cutting the air as it raced past her right ear, combined with her nerves, made Sarah dash sideways and fall from her chair. She hit the hard floor and spun around to see where the bullet hit. The guard dressed in black, the man she had taken the gun from upstairs, gasped for breath, his eyes wide. A neat hole had formed in the center of his neck, blood trickling from it.

His body went into convulsions and slid off the couch he sat on.

Sarah could barely hear, but she got enough from Tony that he was asking her to get up. She looked over at him and slowly got to her feet.

“None of my men ever get disarmed by their captives. The punishment for such ineptness is death. They all know it.” He motioned with his gun for Sarah to take a seat.

She looked back one more time and saw the vacant stare on the man’s face. He was gone. Saddened by being around death so often, she was somewhat relieved that now it was only Tony and herself in the room. Noise overhead would conceal what she was about to do.

“Sit,” Tony said.

The only other chair was too far away from the fire so she turned and righted the chair she had just knocked over when she fell. By righting the chair she could place it in the most opportune location.

Her heart was racing, everything inside was aflame.

She was ready.

“So for this last order of business. Tell me about Vivian.”

She waited for a moment, calming herself, preparing. “My sister comes to me and tells me how to kill people. Ever since Armond murdered her, she has been haunting him through me.” She leaned forward and took a deep breath.
Any second now
, she thought. “Since real ghosts don’t have a strong physical presence here on earth and they can’t hurt or maim someone, Vivian decided to tell me what to do so we can get back at Armond and people like you.”

“Oh really,” Tony said.

She could swear she saw a twitch in his face under his left eye. Was that worry or fear? Did he believe her?

“What did Vivian say about me?”

“She was the one who told me about Drake Bellamy. She also told me how to bring you down and how to kill you.”

Sarah put her hands on her knees and smiled at him.

“You’re kidding right? I’m the one holding the fucking gun. If I pull this trigger, you’re dead. How does that fit into your ghostly plans, you little bitch?”

“It doesn’t,” Sarah said as she lunged forward and with one big swoop of her arm, knocked at least three full boxes of bullets into the crackling fire and then dove behind the desk on her side.

Nothing happened. The fire continued to burn.

She heard Tony’s chair slam back.

“Get up you fucking piece of shit!” he roared.

Fuck. What now? I used the fire. The door is too far away to make a dash for it. He’s armed. I’m not. Fuck!

He stepped around and looked down her. She looked up at him and smiled.

She did what she was told. She used the fire. Now she had to believe. Trust the process. Vivian wouldn’t have her killed so easily.

Tony Soprano raised his gun two handed. He looked like he was auditioning for a police movie.

“Funny how I’m the last one you see before you die,” he said.

Sarah could see his finger leave the trigger guard and rest against the trigger.

“Wait,” she said.

“Too late.”

“No, that line you just said. That’s my line.”

“What?” Tony shook his head.

In that moment the bullets in the fire had heated enough and the minute amount of gunpowder in each individual unit began firing.

He spun around and ducked a little at the sound of bullets randomly discharging in the fire and ricocheting around the room.

Sarah ducked her head and curled into a ball behind the metal desk. Bullets continued to discharge. The desk vibrated a couple times as some lodged into its front or sides.

After a moment she opened her eyes and saw Tony on the floor beside her, blood coming from a wound in his eye. His other eye stared into space. He wasn’t moving.

Vivian, you are a genius. I owe you.

The frequency of the popping sounds slowed. She reached out and took the gun from Tony’s hand.

“Funny how I’m the last one you see before you die,” she said. “Told you that was my line.”

The intervals between popping bullets had gone to over twenty seconds apart. She risked leaning up and looking at the fire. Everything appeared normal. The cardboard boxes the bullets had been in were ash now. There were random spots around the walls where bullets had hit and scuffed. With all the ricochets Sarah was surprised she didn’t get hit.

On the desk sat three other guns and six more boxes of ammunition. She loaded as many bullets she could, stored a couple guns in her waistband and one in each hand with bullets in her pockets and then moved to the door.

It was time to get Parkman.

She kissed her hand and touched the wall beside her as a gesture of respect to Vivian and then left Tony Soprano’s office in the crypt, intent on murder.

Chapter 17

No one was in the hallway as she eased out. A couple of quick steps and she glanced around the corner that led to the stairs and out of the crypt. It was cool below the church, yet Sarah had broken out in a sweat. She couldn’t count how many times she had someone point a gun at her with the intent of shooting and yet each time it was just as frightening as the first. Exposed to something routinely can often desensitize people, but for some reason she couldn’t get used to having guns aimed at her with murderous intent.

More noise came from above. Someone was running. She heard a distant cry from outside somewhere. It sounded like a small war was taking place. She wondered how Parkman was involved and how he could have possibly gotten down from the cross.

Fucking assholes. Crucifying Parkman. Who
does
that?

She made it to the stairs without trouble. No one seemed to care about the noise the bullets had made in the crypt while they shot around the downstairs office.

Paying fierce attention to the square opening at the top of the stairs, Sarah made sure the safety on the gun in her hand was off and then started up the steps. Moving slowly, glaring forward, waiting for someone to stick their head down, she edged up. At the rim she paused and peeked over.

In the immediate surrounding only three people lingered. Two men and one woman were facing out square windows, guns in their hands. Sarah aimed at one of the men and considered firing. The stairwell could act as a trench keeping her hidden from return fire. In seconds she could easily take them all down while in relative safety.

She waited a heartbeat and then lowered her weapon. She couldn’t just shoot someone in the back.

Moral dilemmas sucked. It’s better to have them firing at me first and then I can shoot to kill. Makes me feel better. Yeah right, who am I kidding?

She turned slowly and looked at the front of the church. The tall wooden cross was empty. Parkman was gone.

Whatever he did seemed to have worked.

When she looked back at the three people, the woman was staring at her. Sarah raised her weapon and aimed it directly at her. The woman slowly lowered her weapon to the floor and left it there by her foot as she stood back up to face Sarah, her hands raised.

“I’m unarmed. Don’t shoot.”

Her voice made the men turn. They looked at the woman and then at Sarah and back to the woman. Finally their attention was diverted to the window again. To them, whatever was happening outside was much more important.

What the fuck?

“We are your friend.”

“Bullshit,” Sarah yelled. “Tony Soprano is dead and the one guard he had down there with him is also dead. It’s over.”

“Can I lower my hands?”

Sarah nodded. She rested her forearms on the edge of the stairs and kept her aim on the woman true.

“He was the head of a large organization that goes deeper than one man. Hundreds of criminals are employed by this group. They traffic people everyday throughout the world. We’ve been hunting them for years now. Only in the last six months have we been able to get this close to Mr. Soprano.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Rosalie Wardill. I’m the task force lead handling
Operation Border Control
.”

“Come again?”

“We are a task force set up by multiple police and law enforcement agencies around the world. Our objective is to stop Mr. Soprano and his group of international immigration fraudsters. It has been over three years since our task force was put together and today we have made great progress because of you.”

“Show me some kind of badge.”

Rosalie slowly reached inside her black suit and came out with what looked like a leather wallet. She flipped it for Sarah to see, but she couldn’t read anything from her distance.

“Wait. I will approach you. If anyone turns my way with a weapon or I see anything I don’t like, I begin shooting and I start with you.”

Rosalie nodded. “We’re your friends. Nothing will happen.”

Sarah ascended up the last few steps and after a quick check behind her she walked across the stone floor of the church until she was close enough to read Rosalie’s identification.