Mick Sinatra: Now Will You Weep Page 3

  “We figured Teddy had that covered,” Danny said nervously. “Teddy was acting like he was in charge so we let him be in charge.”

  Mick couldn’t believe he had just said that. “You let him be in charge? In charge of what, Padrone? You? Teddy, who never commanded at this level and in this kind of crisis in his fucking life, was in charge of you?”

  Danny was flustered. “That’s not what I meant,” he said.

  “Then you tell me what you meant,” Mick responded harshly. “What was it that you let Ted be in charge of?”

  Danny knew it was a losing battle now. His eyes betrayed his fear. “We let him be in charge of the family. Of your family’s security.”

  A cold expression crossed Mick’s eyes. “And you don’t think that’s a problem?”

  Danny closed his eyes briefly, opened them again, and then nodded. “That’s a problem,” he said.

  “I trusted you!” Mick shouted out so angrily that he had to rise to his feet to contain it. Every one of his men were suddenly on guard. They knew from experience that when shit was going down, Mick rarely orchestrated it. It just happened. They moved their hands toward their concealed weapons, ready to respond just in case. But they were hoping against every hope within their bodies that they didn’t have to respond that way. Going up against Mick Sinatra wasn’t like fighting fire. It was like fighting a hurricane in a fire. It would be highly unlikely that they would get out of it alive.

  Mick began walking around, his expensive shoes clanking against the damp, cement floor, his hands in the pockets of his expensive designer suit. His sons, like his men, were staring at him too.

  When Mick finally stopped walking, when his anger was once again contained, he returned to his chair and sat back down. He crossed his legs before he spoke again. “What good is an organization,” he asked, “if it collapses when it has to stand? What good are you on my payroll,” he added, “when you fail me when I need you the most?”

  “But we didn’t fail you,” Danny insisted. “Men were eventually placed at the hospital. We had helicopters and an army escort when you were transferred to your estate.”

  “Thanks to you?” Mick asked.

  “Thanks to all of us,” Angelo responded.

  “Bullshit,” Teddy responded for his father. “Our uncles set all of that up. The Gabrinis put guards at that hospital, and organized my dad’s trip home. You just did what they told you to do.”

  “We participated is what we’re saying,” Danny said.

  Mick stared at Danny. Of all of his men screwing up, his screw up hurt him the most. Danny used to be one of his most reliable men. Why would he drop the ball at such a crucial time? Why would he risk so much? Then suddenly, like a lightbulb on, Mick knew the answer. “You wanted him to screw up,” he said.

  Danny was staring back at him. And his heart was hammering. “We wanted who to screw up?”

  “Who the fuck do you think?” Mick responded. “You wanted him to screw up. You figured if he dropped the ball, you would pick it up. You figured his fall would lift you up in my organization. You had it all figured out. Didn’t you, Danny?”

  Danny felt exposed. Mick could see the shame creep onto his skin like a caked-on mask, and suddenly his once confident face appeared sallow and tired. And Danny and Angelo both, who felt they knew their boss like the back of their hands, knew it was over. They knew it was kill time. They could tell, by that cold, hard look in Mick’s cold hard green eyes, that he walked into this dingy warehouse determined to make this their final stop. They knew he was not going to let them get out of this place alive. If they were going to survive, they knew instinctively that they had to shoot their way out.

  And they were about to give it all they had. They felt they had the element of surprise, and quickly began to reach beneath the seat of their chairs for the guns they had taped there. But Mick had already wondered if these fools thought he was some fucking novice. He knew word on the street was that those two attempts on his life had weakened him. He knew word on the street was that he wasn’t half the man he used to be. But could his own men believe it too?

  They apparently did, because Danny and Angelo reached beneath their chair seats for their planted gun. They were going to take Mick out. But Mick hadn’t stood up and walked around for the hell of it. He stood up and walked around to prepare himself. And when he had sat back down, he had sat down with his own weapons, two tiny Smith and Wesson J-Frames with .357 magnum loads, in each one of his hands. And as soon as Danny and Angelo reached beneath those seats, he shocked even his two sons when he revealed his weapons. Every man in the room was momentarily frozen in disbelief. Where do those guns come from?

  But then they got busy. Every underboss tried to grab his weapon and take Mick out. But Mick fired both of his guns at the same time, and shot and killed Danny Padrone and Angelo Jovanni in a one-two shot combination that left the rest of his men scrambling.

  All five of the other underbosses in the room, who were also prepared to take Mick out, didn’t expect his preparedness and tried with all they had to retrieve their concealed weapons too. But Mick began rising to his feet and was firing on all cylinders. He fired and he fired. It was unlike anything Teddy and Joey had ever seen. Mick fired and fired before the first man could get off a single shot. He was firing and firing even before Teddy and Joey could draw their weapons and help their old man out. But their old man didn’t need help. He didn’t even need cover. He killed every one of those underbosses, all seven strong. He killed them as if their plan of attack, a plan they had practiced so thoroughly when they found out about that meeting, wasn’t a plan at all. Just target practice for Mick.

  When the last man fell, and the smoke was still clearing from Mick’s weapons, both of his sons looked at the downed men, at the carnage surrounding their bodies, and then looked at their father. Teddy knew how difficult this move had to be for Mick. He was a man who valued loyalty above even love. Teddy could feel Mick’s anguish.

  But Joey was grinning. His father was fast becoming his hero of heroes and moves like this only rose his stock even higher in Joey’s eyes. He appreciated his father’s skills.

  “That was badass, Dad,” Joey said to his father, unable to conceal his admiration. “That was some badass shit right there!”

  But Mick didn’t respond. These men had once been his friends. He once trusted every one of them with his life. It didn’t feel badass at all. It just felt bad.

  But what was a man to do? Let another man take him out? Take his sons out?

  “Clean it up,” he said to those sons. And then, after staring at the carnage himself, after entertaining the anger and regret and sadness these kind of scenes always stirred within him, he left that scene of crime altogether.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  All three crime families sat in the room like guests at a funeral. Their fathers were in charge of the Sinatra hit, and it all went sideways in a hurry. Now the sons, the new heads of the families, were doing all they could to clean up the mess. Scar Parrushi, the one with balls enough to be the new leader, was still grieving his own father’s death, just as all the others were mourning their fathers’ deaths too. But he knew they had to come up with a plan of action.

  “He’ll strike back,” Scar said. “Only a fool will think he won’t.”

  “It’s been a month,” Petty Renault said. “Why hasn’t he struck yet? Maybe what they say about him is true. Maybe he is half the man he used to be.”

  “And maybe I’m the Princess of Wales,” Scar shot back. “Stop being ridiculous. You heard what went down. He took out his entire senior staff today just because they didn’t protect his family the way they should have. Even Danny Padrone got it between the eyes. If he did that to them for that little shit, what you think he’ll do to us for two attempts on his life?”

  “Our fathers fucked up,” Petty Renault said. “You’re right about that. They underestimated Mick the Tick. They assumed bullets were all that was needed. I say brains
are needed. Plans. Strategies. If we are going to take him out, we’ve got to take him out right. But we’ve got to do it piecemeal. All of that big bang shit won’t work. We need to break apart that bastard one piece at a time.”

  Scar smiled, the long, thick scar on the side of his face giving truth to his nickname. He liked the way Petty was thinking. “One piece of him at a time,” he repeated. “I like that. Then he’ll kneel. Then he’ll fall on his knees and beg for death. But only if we do it right. Only if we all stick together and do this shit right this time.”

  Scar looked at Jake the Snake Vietti. He knew it could only work if Jake went along with the plan too.

  “He didn’t just take out his own men,” Jake said.

  They looked at him. “What do you mean?” Petty asked.

  “He took out my bodyguards too.”

  Scar was floored. “He what? When, Jake?”

  “This morning. At Ming’s place. He came with guns blazing. You should have seen that fucker. My men didn’t stand a chance.”

  Scar looked at Petty. Fright was in their eyes. Then they looked at Jake. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “Why do I need to tell you? He came down on me, not you. He embarrassed me! That ain’t no shit I wanna be broadcasting.”

  “But we’re in this together now. Your old man, mine, and Petty’s saw to that.”

  “I told my old man not to do it,” Jake said. “I told him he didn’t want to make an enemy out of a man like The Tick, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He did it anyway. Now I’ve got to clean up the mess he made. I don’t like it.”

  “They had to try and take him out,” Scar said. “He was muscling in on their territory. He was taking money out of their pockets. If they let him get away with that, they would have been through. It would have been over anyway. He was taking money out of their hands.”

  “Just like he’s taking it out of our hands,” Petty said. “That shit didn’t quit just because he iced our fathers. He’s still pulling that shit. Him and his lieutenants. And yeah, it fell on us. But we’ve got to do something about it. And the only idea that makes sense is retaliation.”

  “That makes sense if you want to join your old man in hell,” Jake said. “That some smart shit if that’s your goal. But if you want to live, that’s some stupid shit.”

  “Fuck you!” Petty shot back.

  “I say we join forces with him,” Jake said.

  Scar and Petty looked at him as if he was insane. “And that’s not stupid shit?” Scar asked. “Are you joking? He’ll have us for lunch if we show that kind of weakness!”

  “But he may go along with it,” Jake said. “He won’t give us all of our territories back, but he’ll give us more than what we have right now. He doesn’t want war any more than we do. He nearly died a month ago. He’s ready for peace, I’m sure he is.”

  “How can you say that?” Scar asked, staring at Jake. “He just iced your men. How can you want to join forces with an asshole like that?”

  “I want to survive!” Jake fired back. “I have a family.”

  “So do we!” Petty said. “And that’s why we have to fight back. For their sake.”

  “He’s just spooked,” Scar said dismissively. “He’s just feeling the guilt of survival and want to make it all go away. Well it’s not going away, Jake. Unless we put Mick away. Join forces? Are you kidding me? You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  But Jake knew exactly what he was talking about. He wanted them to think he was a reluctant warrior. He wanted them to devise their elaborate, piecemeal plans all they wanted. They could plan to steal back territory bit by bit. And while they were trying to beat Mick at his own game, Jake was going to the heart of the matter. He was going to attack Mick, not at his strength the way they were planning, but at his weakness. And when he was weak, when he didn’t see it coming, Jake was going to get his revenge.

  Rosalind, Jake thought as they talked. She was the key. She was his weakness. Because Jake, unless these other two fools in the room, understood a man like Mick. He understood that his woman was his weakness. Not money. Not power. Rosalind.

  Jake had been studying Mick. He listened to all reports about that ambush and how Mick was willing to sacrifice his life to save his wife and kids. Not one of them in that room, when it was on the line like that, would do such a crazy thing. They would use their wife and kids as human shields, yes. Die for them? Never.

  But Mick was a breed apart and Jake knew it. Rosalind was his weakness. And she and she alone could bring him down.

  Jake inwardly smiled as his fellow Dons outwardly plotted. That bastard took three of his best men away today. And if Mick was like everybody else in their business, he was going to be expecting Jake to retaliate in kind. That was how it was done in their line of work. Scar and Petty were expecting it too. But Jake knew better. And he was going to do better.

  Then he couldn’t hold back. A smile slipped through and revealed itself. Then his stone face returned.

  They didn’t call him Jake the Snake for nothing.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Three days later and Roz had been in her office for nearly three hours still going through the mail that had stacked up. Teegan Salley, her secretary, walked in.

  “Knock knock,” she said without knocking, and made her way to Roz’s desk. Roz, swamped with too much work already, didn’t bother to look up.

  Teegan knew she didn’t want to hear it either, but she would be derelict in her duty if she didn’t tell her. “We’ve got a situation, Boss,” she said.

  “What kind of situation?” Roz asked.

  “Their waiting in the conference room.”

  Roz looked up at her secretary, her pretty face now puzzled. “Who’s waiting in the conference room?”

  “Your clients. They want to have their say.”

  Roz frowned. “Tee, what are you talking about? They want to have their say about what?”

  “I don’t know. They wouldn’t tell me that. But it was too many to wait in my office. So I had to let them go in the conference room.”

  “Too many? How many are we talking about?”

  “Let me see,” Teegan said. “We currently have one hundred and four clients on the books. So if I had to guess, I would say approximately a hundred of them are in your conference room right now.”

  Roz was floored. “A hundred?” she asked, rising to her feet. What in the world was going on? She hurried from around her desk.

  “Want me to come with you?” Teegan asked.

  Even that suggestion puzzled Roz. “Come with me for what?”

  “I don’t know, Boss. In case they get hostile.”

  But they had no reason to get hostile! Roz admittedly hadn’t been in the office for over a month, but she had been working her butt off at home. What in the world would they be hostile about? “Stay at your desk,” she said as she headed for the exit. “I’ll buzz if I need you.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Teegan said. But Roz could tell she was disappointed.

  Roz could also tell that her clients were disappointed too. Some sat at the conference table inside the Graham Talent Agency, while others crowded around the walls, and Teegan was right on the money. There were at least a hundred of her one hundred and four clients in that room. At least.

  “Good morning,” Roz said as she entered the room. Some grunted good morning back at her, but most remained silent. It was very perplexing to Roz. These people used to love her. They constantly told her how much they appreciated her efforts. What in the world had them so upset that they would leave their work assignments, which most of them had thanks to Roz, and bring it to her office?

  She sat straight back at the head of the table, crossed her legs, and waited for somebody to tell her something. It would be Sue Herbert, one of her oldest clients, who got the ball rolling.

  “Welcome back,” Sue said. But even that sounded like a putdown. As if Roz had been away on vacation somewhere and finally decided to return to
work. But Roz didn’t bother to respond.

  Sue went on. “We’re here,” she said, “because we feel we need to do what we have to do for our careers. For our future in this business.”

  “It wasn’t an easy decision,” Kinna Franks, one of Roz’s newer clients, added. “If there was another way, you know I wouldn’t be here, Ms. G. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

  “I’m sure I don’t,” Roz said. “What is this about?”

  “Come on, Roz,” Janet Snodgrass, another older client, said. “You can at least give us the courtesy of acknowledging our dilemma.”

  “I’ll be happy to acknowledge it,” Roz said firmly, “if I knew what it was. Now will somebody tell me what’s going on?”

  “We want out,” Sue said bluntly. “And we want out now.”

  Roz frowned. “You want out of what?”

  “Our contracts,” Janet said. “We want you to let us out of our contracts with the Graham Agency.”

  Roz couldn’t believe it. “Are you kidding me? Why would I do something like that?”

  “Because you can,” Janet said. “Because you and you alone own this company. Because you know it’s the right thing to do.”

  “Stop telling me what I know,” Roz fired back. “Just tell me why I should do something so extraordinary as letting almost all of my clients out of their fully executed, legal and binding contracts? Why?”

  Everybody seemed hesitant to go into the details of their request. Everybody except Janet Snodgrass.

  “We discussed this at length,” she said, “and we believe our association with the wife of a mob boss will be detrimental to our careers.”

  Roz expected something off the wall, but she never expected that. “What are you talking about?”

  “We aren’t dumb, Roz,” Sue said. “We see the news. We read the newspapers. Your husband is Mick Sinatra. A man they call Mick the Tick because of his bad temper. He’s a ticking time bomb, the papers said.”