Page 89 of Her Guardian
Eddie Bellamy is small-time. I’d hardly call him a crime boss. He has a small operation he runs out of a bar in Las Vegas. Mostly gambling, but he does high interest loans, too. The kind that will get you a pair of broken legs if you don’t make your payments on time.
I call my crew and confirm they’re on the way, then relay the ping for our meeting location when Massimo sends it. Once I get close to the Bellamy residence, I kill my headlights and coast until I see a line of cars, SUVs, and members of the Morandi family, ready to move. I park, hop out, grab my dart gun, and motion for my crew to follow me.
“Dante already took a group ahead to scout,” one of my guys says. “Rowan and his team are going around back. We’ve got this motherfucker. He won’t get away this time.”
“Damn right he won’t,” I growl, checking my dart gun. “But remember. We have to take him alive. Don’t use anything but darts. Let’s catch up so they don’t get to have all the fun. Put on your masks.”
I slide my gas mask over my head and lead my team through the patch of trees that separates the Bellamy residence from the road. It’s dark, but there’s enough moonlight for us to see without much difficulty.
Eddie Bellamy’s house isn’t a mansion, like most of the others that have been hit. We almost skipped him with the sensorsbecause we expected the Mafia Prince Killer to go after one of the bigger families, but we prioritized the families that fit the profile. Eddie has three sons living with him, so he fits it perfectly, despite not being a major player in Las Vegas.
“Two of Bellamy’s men!” someone calls out, and I see Dante’s crew ahead of us, so we hurry to them. The guy who called out is already pointing at something lodged in the neck of one of the guys on the ground. “Tranquilizer darts. Looks like the same ones from other hits.”
“We need to get inside,” Dante says, looking at me. “Quick.”
“Agreed,” I say, then gesture to my guys. “Let’s go.”
Bellamy’s house is dark. No surprise. The power has likely been cut. Cell phones don’t work. But if the Mafia Prince Killer is inside, we’ve got him. He won’t get away this time. Hopefully, he won’t add any victims to his list before we can handle business.
I stomp across Eddie Bellamy’s front yard, but stop when a dart slams into the dirt in front of me.
“There’s a sniper!” I call out.
“Fuck, does he have backup?” Dante questions, then one of his guys gets hit with a dart and collapses. Several other guys get hit behind us. “Inside! Now!”
I run ahead, darts flying around me, guys falling as they get hit. The Mafia Prince Killer normally doesn’t kill anyone except for his intended victims. Everyone else gets left lying, courtesy of the tranquilizer darts. But I don’t want to find out if he’ll make an exception, with half the Morandi family on the fucking ground.
Which means we have to get this fucker.
I don’t bother to check if the front door is unlocked. I put my boot through it and barrel into the house with guys behind me. The door creates a bottleneck, and we lose a few more guys to the darts, but I pull Dante to the side.
“We need to send someone after that fucking sniper,” I growl. “You got your walkie-talkie?”
“Yeah,” Dante answers, pulling it out and giving the order.
“No doubt this fucker has heard us, so no need to be quiet,” I grunt, looking around with my dart gun ready. More of Bellamy’s men are on the floor, including Eddie himself. A few of his guys got their masks on in time, but not many. “Let’s check upstairs. That’s probably where the kids sleep.”
We move toward the stairs, but as soon as we get there, we’re met by a guy dressed in all black. I aim and take a shot, but he moves out of the way before it hits him.
“There he is!” I yell, pointing him out. “Open fire!”
The Mafia Prince Killer. He’s wearing a gas mask that is tinted, so I can’t see his features. He’s dressed in some sort of black tactical body armor, similar to what the military uses. He moves fast, and his aim is impeccable. He creates a blockade of bodies as our guys storm up the stairs. Even the darts that we manage to hit him with lodge in his armor and don’t slow him down.
Then I see another man dressed the exact same way. And another. Then three more rush out and take aim at us.
“Fuck!” Dante yells. “It’s not just one guy!”
“Shit!” I fire off a couple of shots, but a dart drills into my chest. I yank it free before I get the full effects, but my legs wobble. “I’m hit. Fuck.”
I stagger back down the stairs and fire off a couple of shots as I duck around the corner.
There’s more than one Mafia Prince Killer. A lot more than one. I peek around the corner, let off a few shots, and see that they’re getting the upper hand. I spot a walkie-talkie on the floor and grab it.
“Boss? You out there?” I mutter, rubbing the spot where the dart hit.
“Yeah,” Massimo growls. “Status?”
“Bad, boss. Really fucking bad! Darts aren’t working. We need to shoot to kill.” I throw the dart gun down and grab my Glock.
