Lieutenant Rybeck sat in his patrol car, scoping out a shady area of town and watching for suspicious activity. He and his unit knew the Andolini family was set to hit their rivals the Collodi family any time now, but they were still waiting for details.
His radio crackled with static. It solidified into a voice.
"Lieutenant Rybeck, come in," a curt voice said.
"Roger, Sergeant," Casey answered.
"Tattaglia talked. It's not a battle after all. They're after Don Collodi. They sent Krade," the voice finished.
Casey muttered a curse after he set down his transmitter. Max Krade was the Andolini's newest hired gun. In the six months he'd been active he'd made quite a name for himself. He was a ruthless butcher, cutting down anyone from rival mobsters to errant witnesses. His body count reached double digits when he took Don Andolini's six year old daughter from her kindergarten and left her in a ditch. The war that incited was just icing on the cake for him.
"Where is he?" Casey asked.
"We think he's headed for the rendezvous point at Gino's. He'll be there any minute- hurry, Rybeck,"
"On it," Casey said. He gunned the engine and wound perilously through the crowded streets, his siren warning people to get out of his way. He screamed around a corner with two wheels off the ground and slammed on the brakes in front of Gino's Italiano Plaza, an unassuming restaurant tucked into Little Italy. Through the front windows he could see Dons Collodi and Andolini sitting at a corner table, conversing secretively.
Casey leapt out of his car, drawing his handgun and searching for any sign of Krade. He strode into the restaurant, bringing sidelong glances from the two Dons. He sat in the opposite corner from them, waiting for anything out of the ordinary.
A door opened between the two corners. Casey turned sharply and watched as a tall, strongly built man exited the men's restroom and walked slowly toward the Dons' table. His short, slightly curly hair was coppery brown, and it framed a harsh, fierce-looking face. Merciless brown eyes stared at the two mobsters as the man's hand smoothly came up.
"Freeze!" Casey shouted as he leapt to his feet. Krade pivoted and opened fire on him, but Casey had already knocked over his table and ducked behind it. Don Andolini darted out a back exit, and Don Collodi ran out the front. Casey sniped at Krade from behind the table, counting his adversary's shots as he did so. When Krade had fired his six, Casey vaulted from the floor and tackled him to the ground.
Krade immediately flipped over and launched his fist into Casey's throat. Casey shrugged it off and tossed Krade off of him and against the upended table. As Casey approached him, Krade grabbed a fallen steak knife off the ground and charged at him. Casey stepped aside as Krade neared him and grabbed his knife arm, twisting it behind him until it broke with a crack. Krade cried out in pain and slammed his forehead into Casey's nose, causing him to lose his grip. He took advantage of Krade's satisfaction to slam his leg into Krade's knee. Krade dropped to his knees with a shriek and Casey brought the flat of his palm crashing into his nose, knocking him backward onto the ground. He flipped the groaning Krade onto his back and snapped a pair of handcuffs on him.
"End of the line, Krade," Casey said as he hauled him to his feet. By that time the commotion had brought additional officers, and they hustled Krade into the nearest squad car.
"That's the last we'll see of him for a long time," one of the officers said to Casey as Krade was shoved into the car.
Krade stared at Casey with a cold intensity that said more than words ever could. Casey returned the gaze until long after Krade was lost to the distance. And somehow he knew his colleague was wrong. This wasn't the last he'd see of Krade. Not by a long shot.