Page 117 of Savage Enemy

“You gonna tell me what happened? Because I gotta say, boss, my trigger finger’s very fucking itchy right now.”

I leaned back against the cool leather seat, realizing my jacket had soaked through with sweat.

“We’re officially part of the Commission.”

He turned and stared in horror at my butchered hand.

“Since when is a finger the price of admission?”

“Asshole could only handle the tip,” I said.

We grinned at each other like childish idiots.

“As much practice as that fat fuck’s had, you’d think he could take more than that.”

I nodded. “Food and water, Tony… find me a burger. Do you know where the Jamaica Bay airfield is located?”

He accelerated and peeled away from the curb.

“Yeah, Brooklyn, just off the lower belt.”

“That’s where we’re headed. Call and get eight of our best men to meet us there, fully armed, with as much tactical gear as they can carry. A weapon for me as well.”

“We’re flying into Chicago tonight?”

“Not we, Tony. I’m taking the men with me, and I need you to stay behind in New York.”

“What? Boss, I should be with you.”

Of course, I knew Tony would be unhappy about staying behind. But I needed him to protect the estate in case Lordi thought about doing something stupid while I was gone. Or if something happened to me, I couldn’t trust anyone else with my son. I didn’t want the Commission raising my boy.

“You’re my second-in-command. I need you here to protect my interests while I’m gone.”

“But boss?—”

“That’s an order, Tony. I need you to take care of Enzo. You’re the only person I can trust with my son.”

His jaw flexed as he bit back his urge to argue with me.

“I don’t like it, not covering your back, goddamn it, but yes, I got it. I know how much you love the boy.”

Christ, it had become so obvious.

I swallowed back a swell of emotion.

“I need you to work on something else while I’m gone.”

“Whatever you need,” Tony said, his eyes on the street.

“Dig up everything on Angelo Medico. When I get back, he and I will have a sit-down at the house. I want to know who I’m bringing into my home.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Absolutely everything. Look into his father as well. I don’t know if Victor retired or if he’s dead. Maybe the kid killed him. Talk to the maids and anyone Angelo fucks.”

“Got it. Consider it done.”

No sooner had the words had come out of his mouth, he crossed the Brooklyn Bridge. Heading south, he made his way around Prospect Park, hit the first burger joint in our path, then continued south to the airfield.

---