Page 34 of Dominance

But I head toward the airport anyway. At least to start with.

JFK is still pretty busy, even in the wee hours.

A change of car and clothes has me looking a lot less like myself. I sit and watch for a bit, taking notes.

Sure enough, I spot one of our guys after a few minutes.

He’s almost as obvious to me as an undercover cop looks to most experienced criminals. Outfit is too new. Too much fidgeting with a hat they’re not used to wearing. Little things.

And they always play ittoocasual.

It’s an art acting like you belong somewhere without arousing suspicion. People aren’t super perceptive by and large, but they feel it.

When something’s out of place.

Funny, not a single one of our guys notices me. Three of them, one on watch, one covering the exit.

And one checks the lockers, going through my brothers’ stashes. They keep these ready at all times for drop-of-a-hat missions. They probably do it every time they leave, every time they come back and reset the bags.

Too bad Ero and Ciro have backups that these clowns clearly know nothing about. The real stashes where they keep anything sensitive.

I mean, come on.

We’ve been doing this our entire lives.

A lot of Dom’s new crew are green by comparison. Small-time.

Wannabe gangsters who came from peddling weed on the street corner. Problem is, he’s got an army of them.

Ciro and Ero arrive separately, one by private car, the other in a yellow cab.

I know they see the watchers too, but they don’t let on. If they notice me, they also don’t show a hint of reaction, either.

I’m not here for them, though.

I’m here because of the idea that has been forming in the back of my head for the past few weeks. It started as a loose documenting of activities, notes on troop movement and money changing hands.

The more time I spent on the ground level, though, it grew.

A web of connecting pieces, scales tipped carefully and debts held ransom over key players. Gang leaders indebted to Dom. It’s not just promises. It’s leverage.

A picture of what he’s really up to has started to form, but I need more information to complete the mosaic. I’ve gathered the key players and movers.

I know who to follow.

I spend the rest of the night doing exactly that, zipping around this side of town and staking out a bar, a parking garage, an old tenement block under a bridge. They’re all added to the list.

The sun’s just peaking over the horizon when I realize I’ve been out all night. None of the pieces of the puzzle I found add any clarity to the branching, rootlike picture I’m drawing of the world around me, Dom’s world and my old family.

But it’s a step in the right direction.

Another step in the right direction is for me not to burn myself out.

“Get home and sleep, you jackass,” I mutter, imagining my older brother resting his hand on my shoulder and giving me that look he always gave when he was giving me an absolute order but being really nice about it.

Fortunately, I’m already a lot closer to my side of town by the time I head home.

Not that I expect to sleep much.

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