The Scorpion's Tale (32 page)

“Nick Manzione, I am Renaldo. Welcome to my
country. These are my men,” he said, pointing to the various shapes
and sizes of tattooed thugs standing around him.

Nick firmly shook Renaldo’s hand. “It’s nice
to finally meet my partner.”

“Yes, it is,” Renaldo replied. “I’m sorry
that it had to be under such circumstances.”

“No matter,” Nick said. “We’ve enjoyed Rio,
but it’s time to go home.”

“You have something for me?” Renaldo
asked.

Nick motioned for Louie and Braulio to bring
Giorgio. “I give you the elusive Giorgio,” Nick said.

“It’s been awhile, Giorgio.” Renaldo smiled
menacingly.

Giorgio looked frantically back and forth
between Nick and Renaldo. “What’s going on?”

Nick shrugged. “Renaldo and I are just trying
to straighten out a little misunderstanding, that’s all.”

“What misunderstanding?” Giorgio was sweating
profusely.

“The one where you killed Nick’s man so we
would go to war,” Renaldo said.

Nick noted that he never mentioned Eddie’s
death to Renaldo and thought what a stupid Baiano his soon-to-be
ex-partner was.

“I didn’t double-cross anyone!” Giorgio
squealed. “Nick was the one who wanted to set up this meeting, not
me. He wanted to kill all of your men; otherwise, he was going to
kill me. I swear Renaldo. I didn’t have anything to do with….”

Before Giorgio could finish his sentence,
Renaldo stepped forward and dealt Giorgio a crushing blow to the
jaw with his massive forearm, quieting any possible mention of
Eddie. Renaldo and Nick stood over Giorgio grinning at each
other.

“Very impressive, Renaldo.”

“Now, can we get back to business?” Renaldo
asked.

“You’ve got new people ready to go in San
Remo?”

“Definitely,” Renaldo answered with great
enthusiasm. My men are going there tomorrow.”

“Good. I’ll call you from New York.” Nick
looked down at the unconscious Giorgio. “Take care of yourself,
Giorgio. I know you’ll be in good hands. Send me a souvenir,
Renaldo.”

Renaldo responded all too quickly. “His ring
will be attached.”

“Ciao,” Nick said, as he and his men slowly
backed up to the limousine, never once taking their eyes off of
Renaldo and his gang. If necessary they would have their guns at
the ready in an instant. They reached their car without incident
and drove away, leaving Giorgio to the Brazilians. Nick knew he had
gained control again. He was in a hurry to get back to
Giovanna.

-------------------

Tired from the altitude and lack of oxygen,
Steven found a bench under a tree in a park. He watched as a father
played with his two daughters. The older girl was perched on her
father’s shoulders and the younger one was cradled in his arms.
Their mother sat nearby reading a book. Steven watched the girls
giggling as their father spun them around. Steven chuckled as all
three gently fell to the ground in fits of laughter. It was the
first time since his family had been slaughtered that he could
appreciate the sight of children playing. He was surprised that he
was not mired in self-pity and consumed with hatred as he watched
people enjoying the life that should have been his. He thought
about his family; this time it made him smile.

Steven thought about Charlie, Billy, Pablo,
and Joaquin. There was certainly enough pain in the world. These
strangers had bared their souls and confessed their darkest secrets
to him. For a moment, Steven remembered the nameless girl on the
gondola in Cervinia and how she had shared her deepest secrets with
him. She did so because she knew she never would see him again.
Thinking about her suddenly brought a moment of happiness into his
life. Billy, Joaquin and Pablo probably believed that Steven
wouldn’t live long enough to tell anyone else their personal
confessions. Or perhaps they merely felt connected to another
pathetic soul who had lost everything. Either way, Steven wasn’t
alone in his pain.

He looked around at the impoverished
merchants and their families. There was poverty and despair
everywhere, but the people were making the best of their
situations. Some of the poorest people he met along his journey
were also the friendliest and most optimistic.

A church steeple on the perimeter of the park
caught Steven’s attention, making him think about his loss of
faith. He had attended church his whole life, but the tragedies
which had befallen Steven made him question the value of believing
in anything. Despite his mixed emotions, Steven found himself being
drawn inside.

The church was unimpressive; an old wooden
building with a simple statue of Christ located at the single
entrance. The altar was plain, lit by a single lamp suspended from
a low ceiling. Several candles burned throughout the room,
flickering flames to a God he doubted existed. Steven knelt. He
could tell this was a poor congregation, yet Steven began feeling a
profound sense of peace as he began praying for Amanda, his
daughters, and the rest of his family. He then prayed for Billy,
Charlie, Pablo, and Joaquin. They were remorseful and broken men
and Steven felt sorry for all of them.

Steven thought about the man he was pursuing.
It troubled him that he began thinking about the Scorpion as a man
rather than a monster. He didn’t feel compassion for him, but he
couldn’t stop thinking about the lonely childhood the Scorpion had
experienced. Steven’s own pain of losing his father had never
disappeared and his father’s death had haunted him his whole life.
Steven also knew what it felt like to be an outcast. If it hadn’t
been for Nick, Steven couldn’t imagine what the rest of his teenage
years would have been like. Steven could relate to this man’s pain,
but Steven’s pain was only compelling him to seek one life for
retribution, not to murder for money. Steven closed his eyes and
tears began to stream down his face. There was nowhere on earth
Steven wanted to be more than here, in this little church. He
clasped his hands together, closed his eyes and whispered:

“God, show me the way.”

His tears continued as he thought of his
beautiful wife, her funeral, and the cemetery. His thoughts drifted
to Nick Manzione. Something had been bothering him about Nick. It
wasn’t so much that Nick was a pathological liar who couldn’t be
trusted, because deep down Steven had always known that about Nick.
It was something else, something more complicated. Whenever he
thought about Nick, he also thought about Amanda. He sensed a
connection between them that he had really never acknowledged.
Today, it was eating at him. He opened his backpack and withdrew
the letter Nick had written to Amanda on his wedding day. He had
sworn that he would never read it, but Amanda was dead. Steven
unfolded the letter and began reading. It took him only a few
minutes to finish the two-page letter. He re-read it several times
and then neatly folded it back into the envelope and replaced it in
his backpack.

Steven sat back in the pew and cradled his
head in his hands. His thoughts returned to murder. As he left the
church, Steven deposited $25,000 into the poor box. The donation
was not in devotion to God, for he was again Godless. He left it
for the poor. He knew he wasn’t going to have any need for it.

Detective Johnston sat at his desk,
completing his report. As expected, the meeting with his police
chief had been unproductive. The telephone rang.

“Detective Johnston.”

“This is Marco Bollini.”

The detective was surprised to hear from
Steven’s brother-in-law. He knew Marco disliked him.

“This is certainly a surprise. What can I do
for you?”

“It’s about Steven. I need your help.”

“You need
my
help? Up until now, you
couldn’t do enough to keep me off Steven’s ass!”

Marco stayed composed. “Detective, we can
either break each other’s balls or we can pool our resources and
save Steven. I have someone who wants to meet you. You make the
next move!”

“I’m at the station. Come over now.”

“No,” Marco said emphatically. “That’s not
going to work. There’s an Italian restaurant in our neighborhood
called Angela’s. Meet me there at six o’clock.”

“I know the restaurant. May I at least know
who I’m meeting?”

“Charlie. Charlie P. from Chicago. You’ll
want to talk to him. Don’t be late.”

“Okay, I’ll see you at six.”

Johnston didn’t need to review his notes to
remember the name. Charlie was Steven’s Chicago dinner companion.
Marco was right; he did want to speak to Charlie.

-------------------

Nick was tense on the ride to the hotel, and
Pete thought they could use some levity. “Hey, Nick, I’m a little
disappointed we didn’t get a chance to use this great fire power,
but at least we got rid of Giorgio.”

“Giorgio was a piece of shit,” Nick growled.
“He was bait, that’s all. You’ll get a chance to use those weapons.
Just wait.” Nick looked at Braulio, who nodded at him. Louie caught
the exchange.

“What’s going on, Boss?” Louie asked.

“Braulio planted a tracking device on our
good friend Giorgio. He’s finally going to be useful to us. You
guys are to wait an hour, then catch up with Renaldo for some
payback. Those cocksuckers killed Jerry, then Eddie. Squish the
life out of each of them. Capiche?”

Louie smiled. “Now you’re talking!”

-------------------

The Scorpion made a stop at a local merchant
in Rio’s business district. He emerged moments later, his carry-on
bag considerably heavier due to the addition of two newly acquired
Glocks, silencers, and extra clips. He walked a half-mile to a
small apartment building, climbed a flight of stairs, and unlocked
the door to a tiny, unfurnished apartment. In his carry-on was a
DHL Express uniform. He undressed, went into the bathroom, removed
his neatly trimmed goatee, and scrubbed his face with soap. Then,
he wet his hair and applied hair color from a tube, combing it
through several times. A few minutes later his hair had a platinum
sheen. To complete the disguise, he put on green contact lenses and
inspected his appearance in the mirror. Satisfied, he dressed in
the uniform and glanced at his watch to confirm he was on schedule.
He loaded the Glocks, attached the silencers, and test-fired both
weapons into a stack of pillows. As he was almost done packing his
bag, his cell phone rang. The Scorpion screened the number on the
caller identification before answering.

“What information do you have?” he
commanded.

“Everything is in an envelope in the locked
glove box.”

“And the keys to the truck?”

“Arranged as you desired.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“It’s a two-story, private house with nine
occupants.”

“No women or children?”

“No.”

“Call me if anything changes.”

“We have one little problem.”

“What?” The Scorpion was annoyed.

“The second job must be done right after the
first. We’ll need to make arrangements for the hotel as soon as
possible.”

“Fine. Get on with it.”

The Scorpion collected his bag, left the
apartment, and locked the door. Two blocks away, he stopped at a
small house, inserted a key into the mailbox, and withdrew an
envelope. As he walked down an alley, he ripped open the envelope
and removed a set of keys. A few blocks further, a DHL Express
truck awaited him. He opened the glove compartment and withdrew an
envelope, scanning the contents before heading to the site of the
soon-to-be massacre.

-------------------

Two of Renaldo’s men were sitting on the
front stoop of a two-story house, smoking cigarettes as they saw a
DHL truck pull up. The driver got out with a package and started
walking toward the front door. The men stood and eyed him
suspiciously. The driver addressed them in fluent Portuguese. One
man opened the front door as the other man followed them in. Upon
entering the house, a third man grabbed the package and a fourth
put a gun to the deliveryman’s head and frisked him.

“He’s clean, Boss.”

Renaldo extended his hand and apologized. “No
hard feelings, my friend. We are very careful around here. We don’t
often receive surprise packages.”

Renaldo pointed to his man holding the
package. “Open it.” Meanwhile, numerous guns were trained on the
Scorpion. Renaldo’s associate slowly opened the box. Everyone in
the room expressed relief and amusement to discover several
expensive shirts. The enclosed card thanked Renaldo for his
business and asked him to accept the shirts as a gift. Renaldo
laughed hysterically.

“We are becoming a bunch of superstitious old
women!” He pulled out a U.S. hundred dollar bill and handed it to
the deliveryman. “For your inconvenience.”

The Scorpion pretended to be terrified and
simply nodded his head. He scanned the room and noted eight other
smiling faces.

“No problem. Have a nice day,” he said as he
walked out, followed by one of the men, who paused long enough to
watch him enter his truck before re-entering the house. The
Scorpion was pleased to see that the front door remained slightly
ajar. He opened another box in the rear of the truck, removed both
loaded Glocks with silencers, and picked up another package. He
stuck one Glock down the front of his shorts and kept the other in
his right hand underneath the package as he walked slowly up to the
front door. He saw through the front window that all nine men were
still in the same positions where he left them.

The Scorpion gently pushed the door open with
his left foot while continuing to balance the package. The men were
drinking, talking loudly, and holding up the shirts, displaying
them to one another. Renaldo’s smile instantly faded as he noticed
the deliveryman standing in the doorway.