The Heart of an Assassin

The Heart

Of An

Assassin

A Novel

Tony Bertot

The Heart of an Assassin

Tony Bertot

Copyright © 2009 by Tony Bertot.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may
be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by
any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in
writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any
actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of
America.

Published by Tony Bertot at Smashwords

Library of Congress Control Number:
2009903220

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Table of Contents

Chapter1
-The Call

Chapter2
-An Assassin’s Attorney and
Accountant

Chapter3
-The Giordano Family

Chapter4-
The Costellino Family

Chapter5
-The Arrival

Chapter6
-Help From A Stranger

Chapter7
-The Cleanup

Chapter8
-A New neighbor

Chapter9
-The Black Aces

Chapter10
-An Assassin’s Plan

Chapter11
-The Dinner Invite

Chapter12
-The Good News

Chapter13
-La Celebrazione

Chapter14
-Giordano Family Acts

Chapter15
-Las Ristorante

Chapter16
-In Harm’s Way

Chapter17
-A Family’s Sorrow

Chapter18
-Uncle George

Chapter19
-The Take Out

Chapter20
-A Survivor

Chapter21
-Good-bye, Bolnaldo Costellino

Chapter22
-The Bitter Taste of Revenge

Chapter23
-Twenty Years Later

Chapter24
-The Task Force

Chapter25
-An Unexpected Break

Chapter26
-Tyler’s Return

Chapter27
-The Assignment

Chapter28
-Missing in Action

Chapter29
-When Two Is Better Than One

Chapter30
-A Blast From the Past

Chapter31
-A Gruesome Discovery

Chapter32
-Felicia Gets a Call

Chapter33
-In Protective Custody

Chapter34
-First Stop

Chapter35
-Second Stop

Chapter36
-Here One Day, Gone the Other

Chapter37
-In Early News

Chapter38
-The Giordano Family Meeting

Chapter39
-OCTF Headquarters

Chapter40
-A New Gunsmith in Town

Chapter41
-A Change of Heart

Chapter42
-A New Identity

Chapter43
-Ravena New York

Chapter44
-Giordano Family Mobilizes

Chapter45
-Closing In

Chapter46
-Up and Away

Chapter47
-The Giordanos Meet

Chapter48
-Adriana Romano

Chapter49
-Nowhere to Hide

Chapter50
-Final Preparation

Chapter51
-A Shot Is Taken

Chapter52
-The End of Life Commences with
the Beginning of Another

Chapter53
-A Day of Reckoning

Chapter54
-A New Beginning

Chapter55
-A Blast from the Past

This book is dedicated to;

John Frenning

(“I’ll believe it when I see it”)

John Kirwan

(Who I could bounce my ideas off of)

Sandy Smart

(Who encouraged me to publish)

Sylvia Bertot

(Whose support and love made this
possible)

In memory of;

Luke Diebold

Helen (Bertot) Rother

Tom O’Donnel

July 2,
1964 (San Francisco)

It was a warm July morning as Shannon Murphy
spread out the blanket on the beach running alongside San Francisco
Bay. The soft, gray sand stretched north to the Golden Gate Bridge
and to the south for several miles. Being a weekday, there were few
people on the beach. Only the soft sounds of birds in the sky and
the water hitting the beach filled the air.

Shannon had just put her
two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Jamie, down so that she could
spread out the blanket and set up her lounge chair. Unbeknownst to
her, Jamie had wandered off and was now next to the bay water. As
Shannon laid the blanket down, she looked up. Not seeing Jamie, she
turned around. As panic started to set in, she screamed, “Jamie,
where are you?” She scanned the beach and then looked toward the
water. There was Jamie, alongside the crest of the water some
eighty-five feet away.

“No!” Shannon screamed and began to run
toward Jamie as she saw her fall forward into the water.

A second after Jamie fell in, a stranger, who
happened to be jogging by, grabbed the little one and carried her
toward Shannon. It all happened so fast that her mind had not
caught up with her beating heart until he placed Jamie in her arms.
The stranger simply smiled and continued on his way. Jamie was
crying, but was all right.

Shannon looked after the stranger, wanting to
say something, but it was too late; he was gone.

Shannon thought, How strange, that smile on
his face. No warmth, and disquieting in a way. Warmth or no warmth,
God bless him.

The six-foot, lean jogger continued on his
trek. His five mile run took him from the west side of San
Francisco Bay, under the Golden Gate Bridge, to Lincoln Boulevard
where he parked his car. He then drove back to his house on
Oceanside Drive in Daly City, where he had a spectacular view of
the Pacific Ocean. Here he was known to his neighbors and in the
San Francisco area as Jack Ferrari, a successful real estate
broker. However, to everyone else he was known as Nick
Costello.

Upon entering the two-story house, one could
see a clear view of the ocean through two windows that spanned
almost the entire back wall. The room was furnished with a
comfortable-looking sofa and a leather recliner, and against the
wall was a brick fire place. To the right was an open kitchen with
a polished marble island and to the left was the master bedroom.
Behind the kitchen was a stairway leading up to other bedrooms, one
of which was used as an office. The entire house was kept in a very
neat and orderly manner. Some might call it the ideal bachelor pad.
However, the stranger had never had a visitor, and it was the
solitude and openness he enjoyed the most.

After showering, Nick made his daily
scheduled calls to three of six different numbers in the United
States. The first one was a Chicago number, the second was local,
and the last was in New York City. There was no response from the
first two numbers. However, the New York City number had been
disconnected. This served as a message for him to call his contact
in New York City for a job.

Within fifteen minutes Jack was out the door
on his way to Cupertino, some forty miles away. He checked into the
Cypress Hotel under the name of Nick Costello from Chicago. When he
got to the front door of his room, he looked around to ensure no
one was watching, put on some gloves, and entered the room. He
walked over to the phone and made his phone call, which lasted only
two and half minutes, and then left without touching or disturbing
anything else in the room.

Ten minutes later, he was on his way back to
Daly City where he packed his bags and made a cursory check of the
entire house, ensuring he left nothing to chance just in case he
never returned. As was his custom, he called his lawyer and
accountant, David Spencer, to advise him he would be leaving town
for a couple of weeks, and asked him to take care of things while
he was away. Before leaving for the airport, Jack went into his
bedroom closet and closed the door behind him. Switching on the
light, he moved the clothes hanging on the right to the left,
exposing a safe. Opening the safe, he extracted three of the
sixty-five thousand dollar sum. Next, he reached into his back
pocket and took out his wallet, removing his driver’s license,
social security card, and two credit cards. Then, he reached down
and picked up a shoe lying on the floor of the closet and extracted
a key hidden in its heel. Removing the shelf from the safe, he
revealed a lock in the back panel of the safe. Using the key, he
opened it and exposed six small stacks. Each stack contained a
driver’s license, a social security card, two credit cards, and a
couple of passports. He placed the items he removed from his wallet
on the third stack and extracted an identical number of items from
the fourth stack.

The stranger had entered the closet as Jack
Ferrari and exited it as Tim Goldman.

David
Spencer had known Jack Ferrari for over four years. Jack hired
David to take care of his finances and to be his advisor on legal
matters. Unknown to David, Jack had performed an extensive
background check on him for almost two months before approaching
him. Jack simply asked him to be both his attorney and accountant,
feeling that the attorney-client confidentiality automatically
extended to his accounting practices with him. Though not
necessarily true, Jack felt it would be an issue that would be
clearly challenged in the courts should the need arise. Not to
mention the fact that he was not Jack Ferrari, another issue for
deliberation. A simple ploy to cause confusion in order to buy
time, with the hope that an opportunity to make an escape would
present itself in the event of his capture.

Though David felt his client wasn’t being
truthful to him about his real name, it was not for him to
question. The money proved to be very good, and he had no
indication that Jack was into anything illegal. At least that is
how he felt until one day last year when they met to have a couple
of drinks at a local bar.

They were sitting at a table when a couple of
rough-looking drunks walked into the bar and started giving
everyone a hard time. Jack decided he didn’t want any more to
drink, and so they finished up and started for the door. As David
passed one of the drunks, he accidentally bumped into him. The
drunk turned and swung at David but missed him and, instead, almost
hit Jack. Jack managed to step aside and let the man trip over his
own feet, causing him to end up face down on the floor. He then
pushed David along toward the door.

The second man, seeing what had happened,
grabbed a bottle and swung it at Jack. Jack ducked and hit him with
an upper cut that sent the man reeling upward, landing him on his
back. The first drunk was on his feet again and charged at Jack.
Jack turned and, using the weight of the charge, redirected the man
toward a nearby wall. You could hear the thump outside as the
drunks head put a dent in the hardwood. Jack bent down next to the
other fallen drunk, looked him in the eye, and said something that
until this day chilled David to the bone. Something about cutting
his fingers off one by one and stuffing them down his throat. It
wasn’t what he said, but rather, how he said it.

Without skipping a beat, Jack got up and
continued to push David toward the door. Within a few seconds they
were outside, leaving a cheering crowd of onlookers behind
them.