Scorpio's Eight

Chapter Twenty Eight

The End is Always the Tricky Part

Zander was dressed as the pool boy, Teddy, in his surfer shirt and blonde wig. He had The Ever Faithful in his hand and was coming down the stairs at Greystone when he stopped dead in his tracks.

In the foyer, next to the passed out bodies of two drugged gaurds of Sonny's, was Frank Gianni, the Chicago mob boss who Zander had sent away ten minutes before, and two of his goons. Both goons had guns pointed at Zander, the door behind them had been kicked in.

Frank said "Something smelled fishy. No gaurds outside. The gate open. Not even Corinthos is that lax. That bad smell, Mr. Pool Man, its you. Get down here."

Zander's eyes darted back and forth. If he reached for his gun, he could be shot before he even pulled it out. In his mind, he pictured Gia, standing in the living room of their brownstone earlier tonight. Her eyes had begged him not to go, just as her lips had been begging for years for him to leave this con artist life behind.

This is the last job, he told her. Right after this last job, I'm out.

How many times had he promised that? Every time it was nothing more than a lie- one he had to tell to keep her, one he told easily because he was a liar at heart. The only true thing in his world was his love for her, and for their baby that grew inside of her. He thought that might save him, from his own destructive ways, he thought that might be enough.

Maybe nothing could save him now. Because he damn sure was not about to hand over this painting to some out of town mafioso who would probably put a bullet in the back of his head as a thank you. Hell with that.

Zander turned and dived upstairs, just as the goons opened fire. Jason and Lucky, wearing black masks, came running through the patio door, after having seen Gianni and his men enter the mansion on the surveillance Spinelli had set up.

They never liked having to kill anyone they didn't have to while on a job. Though Jason didn't care all that much if he had to send a whole slew of men to their Maker, Boss frowned on any of them committing murder in the first. What they did with their long con , he always said, was a form of art, a craft, a beautiful illegal dance that only the very cunning could learn the steps to. Blowing wholes in guys, well that was cheating. Unless it was absolutely necessary. Tonight it was.

Jason aimed for the knees, cutting both men down. Then yelled at Frank Gianni "On the floor! Now."

Frank Gianni stared them down. He was The Man in Chicago. The number one. He got on his knees for no one.

Lucky grabbed the back of his neck and forced him to the ground. "Move your ass, old man."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Anna walked into Faith's hotel room. She saw the blonde, squeezed into a short red dress, sitting on the glass topped table. Her feet rested on a chair in front of her. The gun dangled loosely in her hand, as if it was toy, but Anna knew it wasn't any prop.

This chick is cracked, Anna thought.

She regretted ever taking a job for Faith but at the time all Anna could see was a way to best Robert.

"Your painting."

Faith slowly got to her feet. "Hand it over."

"First, my payment."

"No, first my painting. I want to see the code for the account," Faith countered. "The last person who double crossed me was my lying whore of a first husband, and he learned his lesson the very hard and painful way. But I learned mine too. You might say I have trust issues now."

"Fine." Anna slammed the painting against the desk, breaking the frame and then pulled out the paper that was wedged inside. She passed it to Faith."We good?"

Faith studied the paper. She slowly raised the gun.

Anna got ready to go for her weapon, while silently cursing herself for ever doing a gig in her own backyard. That was a mistake an amateur would make. Or someone like Robert and Luke, so cocky they think they can get away with stealing the Declaration of Independence in broad daylight in a room full of tourists. With the right con, she could hear Luke saying, it could be done.

Faith had her gun pointing at Anna, but she was holding it loosely like it was a cute accessory.

"Unhappy?" Anna asked "You got your numbers. Pay me or shoot me. I don't have all night."

"You...did good. Lucky for you. Because if you didn't, you would be dead right now."

"Yes," Anna said dryly, as she eased her hand off the back of her pants, where her gun was shoved. "Lucky me."

Faith set down her gun and then picked up a briefcase full of cash to pay Anna. Anna took it and headed for the door.

Faith called out, her tone low and deadly, with nothing idle about her threats "Mrs. Scorpio, don't talk. Not to the cops. Not to my ex. You so much as whisper my name to anyone, ever....ever....and you will be one dead thief."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Zander had decided to take his second choice for exiting the mansion. He jumped from the balcony into the pool.

Jason kept a gun on the mobsters while Lucky went upstairs to hunt down Zander. He couldn't find him but noticed an open door off the master bedroom that lead to the balcony. He walked out there and looked down in time to see Zander jogging across the lawn, and throwing himself over the stone wall.

Lucky ran back downstairs. He pulled out his cell phone and pretended to make a call. "Yeah, I got Frank Gianni and two of his boys eating granite here. You want I should handle this?...As you wish." He hung up. He bent down and placed his gun at the back of Frank's neck. Jason had his weapon covering the goons, who he had already stripped of their guns. Both goons were whimpering and bleeding.

Frank Gianni said "Who do you work for? Get your fucking boss on the phone right now. This isn't how things are done. You as good as dead. Sonny better hope he's six feet under cause I will shove his head up his intestines, I ever catch up to that punk ass. Coming into his house and getting shook down like this. Bullshit. You better stand down. Now." He tried to stand up. Lucky held him down.

"How you gonna plot to take out Corinthos when you might not be walking out of here tonight?" Lucky asked, his tone cold and devoid of feeling. He cocked his weapon and placed it against of the back of Frank's head.

The mob boss pissed his pants.

Lucky said "Consider this a gift from Lorenzo Alcazar. You are free to go. Get on that road out front and keep going till you pass the city limits. Mr. Alcazar wants to speak to you, he'll find you. As you can see, he is now running things both his territory and Corinthos'. Do not show up uninvited in his town again."

Inside he congratulated himself on his awesome acting abilities. He really could have been, he figured, the next Brando if he had stuck with living the straight life. But this was much more fun.

Lucky and Jason ran back out of the mansion and soon were back inside the van. As soon as they jumped in, Spinelli floored it and they went flying down the access road next to the lake.

"Turn on the damn headlights, Jackal!" the Hitter yelled. "Damn, who taught you to drive? Carly?"

Zander was in the back seat, with his shirt off cause it was soaking wet. "Well, that was close."

Lucky pushed his shoulder. "You couldn't take the window as your first choice out of there? Huh? Idiot." Lucky smiled.

"Oh, poor Romeo, had to get blood on his new black outfit. You couldn't make your share by flirting with old women this time- pity," Zander teased. "Ask me if I give a damn."

Lucky glared at him.

Zander said, holding up The Ever Faithful, "Look at me. I gots 220 million dollars, baby. How you like me now?"

Now that the job was over the adrenaline was flowing hard and fast in him, making him act maniac.

"220 million dollar dollar bills, you all. Dollar dollar bills, you all." Zander did a little dance in his seat.

"Gag him," Jason said to Lucky.

Zander joked, in his pool boy voice, "Like, dude, that is just so harsh. Be cool." He said the next word very slow "Chill..."

"I hate The Kid after jobs," Lucky said to Jason.

"Yeah, me too," Jason agreed.

Spinelli turned a corner, squealing all the tires. Jason cried "Drive like a normal human, not a sixteen year old who stole their parents keys. No more wheel man for you, ever."

"But Hitter-" Spinelli protested.

"Don't but Hitter me."