Page 197 of Vita Mia

“Mirabella?” Catalina said softly. She stroked her head. “We have to go back. We have too...”

“Do you know what I am really afraid of?”

“Tell me?”

“The end.”

“the what?” Catalina asked.

“The end. How it all ends. Death or prison. Isn’t that the way?” she asked.

Catalina shook her head as if she didn’t understand. Mirabella wept. “The end for him Catalina. He will never be free to just be my Gio again. Will he? They hunt him, they will punish him. The law, the Russians, everyone. He will not be mine again, not even after all of this. Will he?”

“It’s not always a horror story. Our life. This life.”

“It was for your father, and his father. It was for Gio and Lorenzo. It was for Domi, and will be. There is no freedom for any of them. Is there?”

Catalina let a tear slip. She looked away. “Don’t think of the end. Just live in the moment. I do.”

Before Mirabella could say another word six black SUVs swarmed the narrow bend of the road. Mirabella lifted her blurred gaze to the window. Men that worked for her husband or Dominic had their guns drawn. Her door was yanked opened.

“Donna, please come with us.”

Mirabella glanced to Catalina. Her sister-in-law gave her a sad smile. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to save him this time. All of this was not for nothing.”

Today was the day she testified for her husband, and perjured herself. It was also the day she’d hand over Lorenza to her sister and possibly never see her again. Today was the beginning of the end.

“Donna, per favore,” the man said. His teeth clenched and his eyes threatening. He had orders to take her by force if necessary. Of course,, it would not be necessary. The woman she once was that would run or turn away from this world was gone. What was the point in tears?

She left the vehicle. With guns drawn the men escorted her and Catalina into another car and left her stolen sports car from the villa where she parked it. The traffic was blocked on both sides during the transfer. And it lasted only a few seconds. Soon they were taken back to where they belonged.

***

IN THE U.S. A MAN WAStried by a jury of his peers. That was not the case in Italy. Don Giovanni Battaglia would face theGiudici Popolari,a panel of judgeswho were to represent the people. This panel would hear the evidence and rule on whether he would move forward to trial. The sparring between his attorney and the prosecutors dragged on before theguidici. Motion after motion was put forth to have the case dismissed. And one by one each was denied. Giovanni watched his attorneys fail without expression. It was to be expected. The arrogant glances from the prosecutors to Giovanni were evidence that the fools believed him to be beaten.

“We’d like to add to the hearing new evidence that implicates Giovanni Battaglia in the disappearance of Warden Antoni Fassini, the Governor of Poggioreale.”

“We object, my client has been in custody and suffered extreme trauma at the Poggioreale prison. The investigation and witness testimony implicates others. What is this new evidence and why haven’t we seen it?”

One of the judges gestured for the attorneys to approach. Giovanni watched as the men stood before the judges discussing and debating this supposed evidence. He glanced over to the Générale who was now present. The look of fury and hatred he received in return made him smile. After a few minutes, his attorney returned to him.

“Decision?” Giovanni whispered while the prosecutor ran off the list of people scheduled to testify.

“They will review and let us know.”

“Evidence?” Giovanni asked.

“A witness that claims the Butcher was back from the dead. He

was seen at the warden’s house the night of the kidnapping.”

“Find that witness,” Giovanni said through clenched teeth.

The attorney nodded. The new attorney that his wife had hired seemed to have taken lessons from Sun Tzu’s ‘Art of War’. One of the tenants that Giovanni always lived by was ‘All warfare was based on deception’. He ruled his empire like that of a CEO. He washed the blood off of his money through legitimate business affairs. It built an impenetrable wall around his true business. And though the republic believed they knew who he was they had only scratched the surface.

However, Sun Tzu’s teachings for this moment were very clear. Sun Tzu said: “When able to attack, we must seem vulnerable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.” Its teachings are the mastering of disguise. Yes, they were in court, and yes, his life and the very livelihood of his family was at stake, but underneath all the truths the prosecutor had submitted into evidence Giovanni had planted thorough lies. He was a ruthless Don, yet he was also head of the Neapolitan sanitation efforts and personal friend to the Prime Minster. He was evil yet good, guilty yet innocent, and back and forth went the sparring between his attorneys and prosecutor.

First to take the stand was a Cardinal and close friend of Father Nicosia. An excommunicated Sicilian Catholic priest, Father Nicosia was the only man who Giovanni knew held the respect of the Camorra, Ndrangheta, and the Mafiosi. His gym was neutral territory in the heart of the triangle. Though the papacy had stripped the priest of his position in the church Cardinal Figgorele took the stand to paint the fallen priest as a man about redemption and reform. It was utter bullshit. And Giovanni would piss on his grave again if the priest rose from the dead. He felt no guilt over the bullets he had put into the scum-dog.

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