Page 103 of Deal with the Devil
I want Portia for myself because I want to keep her. Because I’ve fallen in love with the girl.
More sirens wail into the dark night as we make our turn onto Hamilton and the limo driver shouts at me about the construction site coming up.
“Keep going!” I yell back. “At the last second, you pull into the garage. I’ve got the code from Warner to bypass the security gates.”
I pop open the slide on my pistol and check the rounds I’ve got in the chamber. Enough to probably get us from the limo inside the building if I need to open fire on anybody.
I don’t plan on using it, but better safe than sorry. I hadn’t planned on pulling my gun at the park and holding Portia hostage either, but it’d been a necessary distraction at the moment.
We finally arrive at the construction site.
My limo driver pulls off a miracle, all the more impressive considering the long vehicle he’s driving isn’t exactly a Formula One racecar.
The tires shriek as we lurch down the ramp into Warner’s underground lot. The reinforced frame of the limo rattles like a coffin on wheels as we take the turn too fast.
Overhead, the skeletal steel bones of the unfinished business tower look more ominous than usual.
This might be the place I die. The place where the police take me out in a hail of bullets, because I’d rather go down fighting than ever be put in handcuffs in the back of a squad car.
I’ll die like Clyde Barrow in a fucking standoff against the cops before I ever let them lock me behind bars.
But Portia’s no Bonnie Parker—she’s going to make it out of this alive. I’ll make sure of it.
The gate closes behind us, sealing us into the parking garage.
“Let’s go!”
I drag Portia out of the limo, her arm gripped in one hand while the other clutches my pistol. The limo driver lumbers after us.
The sound of police sirens have gone nowhere. They wail louder than ever as we pile into the elevator and I jam a finger on the up button.
It’s the only working elevator in the entire building. It takes us up to one of the top floors, my men already on the scene like I’ve instructed.
The moment the doors open, I pull Portia with me. The floor space is empty, nothing but unfinished corridors thick with dust from the drywall.
Maurizio steps toward me as soon as he sees me. He’s ready to execute the plan I discussed over the phone, personal animosity aside. His loyalty is to la cosa nostra and our family first and foremost.
“They’ve blocked off the tunnel,” he says. “We can’t do the diversion without it.”
“Already?” I snap. “How the fuck did they make it to the other end before us? You motherfuckers weren’t quick enough!”
I grit my teeth as it sinks in there’s probably only one option left. One way for this situation to end…
Outside, floodlights flash to life, bright enough to blind. The voice that follows is sharp and amplified, ringing out from the megaphone like it’s God’s voice speaking to the entire city.
“This is the Newport Police Department. You are surrounded. Release the hostage and exit with your hands above your head!”
Unfortunately, the downside of using an unfinished building like this is that there’re lots of weak points where a helicopter or drone can see right inside. Even the floor we’re standing on is half unfinished with a gaping hole where a window should be placed.
I turn my body, angling Portia in front of me to block out any view of her from the outside.
NPPD has already closed off the street, snipers perching on the rooftops across from the building, and SWAT trucks boxing us in on all sides.
“Listen to me,” I tell Portia. “You’re going to get out of this, dolcezza. My men are going to escort you out of the building and away from the confrontation.”
She blinks out of the dazed state she’s been in, having fallen into shock once we took off from the park. It’s like it hits her what could be coming next as we’re surrounded from all directions. A choked sob leaves her, tears slowly trickling down her cheeks.
“You have to surrender, Diavolo. You have to do it right now. Then we have to get you help.”
