Songbird
"Are you certain?" Fresina asked Mordecai who gave him a deadpan stare in return.
"Yes, quite certain. The lieutenant I neutralized said he was giving Santino information directly, which can only mean…"
"He's been giving it to Vito or someone else in the ranks of the Green Ones." Frank concluded. "It makes sense how most of our plans have been intercepted, I just find it hard to believe that Santino, of all people, would be selling us out."
"I wish I knew why." Mordecai said, pouring over his notes. "But everything adds up. Aiello will not be happy to hear this. I guess the question is how would you two like to proceed?"
Frank and Carmelo looked at each other. "He's your boss." Frank said, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess you can either side with him or keep our alliance intact. But I'm not going to feed no rat information."
"Agreed." Fresina noted. "I wouldn't expect you to stay with us over something this egregious. But I've been working with him for years, why would he become a turncoat now?"
"I may have a solution." Mordecai said, standing upright and adjusting his glasses. "Listening into phone conversations and opening up correspondence is a specialty I learned under Atlas May which may be of some use here. If you give me a week or two, I might have enough proof to show beyond doubt that Santino has been backstabbing us."
"Make it so." Fresina said. "As far as I'm concerned, I'm calling the shots in the Santino outfit unless or until Santino is found to be set up or framed."
"Then I shall do so. Now if you excuse me, I need to see if Serafine will be ready for action soon. Ethan and I have another target to hit next week."
Two weeks later Mordecai was busy listening in. Every time Santino answered the phone, Mordecai would record the conversation in notes. Every time Santino would write down a message to his subordinates, Mordecai would intercept it and record the orders. Everything was to be copied, even seemingly secret channels of communication. Most people couldn't figure out how Mordecai got his information, but the best magicians never reveal their secrets. On this particular day, Santino was busy writing a letter which was meant to go across enemy lines, addressed to Vito himself.
"Intercept by Russos and special team on truck convoy, November 28th, 1927, at Old West Missouri Road. Cannot confirm if intercept will occur or not. Caution, Ghost is among the team of agents sent to position." -Songbird
Sealing up the letter in an envelope, Santino placed a wax stamp with the Missouri State Seal embossed on it. He handed it off to a secretary, who handed it to a runner. The runner made his way through the warehouse and out the door, where it was diverted to a cleaner working in the back of a suit repair shop. The cleaner passed the letter onto a street rat who ran it up to the third floor of the office building, depositing it in a drop box. As the letter landed in the brass box with a "plunk" Mordecai wasted no time in opening the message and recording it for his own notes. This was a perfect match to the pattern which had been established. Any activity the Russos did would be telegraphed by Santino. However, something peculiar was happening. Each of the letters was addressed to Chicago, not St. Louis. For the first time, Mordecai found the name he was looking for. It was addressed to Antonio Lombardo, also known as "Tony", also known as "The Scourge". He was Capone's right-hand man and the chief agent working with contacts in St. Louis. Between the two Chicago factions and the Kansas City mafia, St. Louis had become a warzone. The police were barely keeping up with all the death and destruction. Of course, the biggest killer of them all was Ethan Kelly, or The Ghost. A Mystery killer with a personal vendetta against the Green Ones. By now the whole city was scared of this assassin. Veteran mafiosos were shaking in their shoes at the thought he might be lurking in the shadows.
Mordecai was impressed by this reputation. In all his years working under Atlas May, only the most informed gangsters knew who he was and what he was capable of. Yet the papers had taken a liking to this killer. He was almost a folk hero to some, killing people the police wouldn't even touch. Of course, the truth was Ethan had the support of a whole team and that he was much more particular about who he killed. He had a list which never seemed to end, but also never included anyone who didn't deserve death. Part time associates, kids, women, they were all safe from his wrath. Ethan operated with a ruthless efficiency, a product of the Great War brought onto the streets of St. Louis with one goal, to win the turf war in the favor of this alliance.
And yet the myth worked against him. Too many thought they might make a name for themselves by killing this ghost when he appeared. He was operating on pure luck, and that was never a good thing. Today, Mordecai was going to make sure that they would have more than luck on their side. The phone rang in Santino's office and Mordecai was quick to pick up on the phone at his desk which had been spliced in. Santino was quick to answer.
"Hello?"
"Santino! How goes the business?"
"Oh, I'm sure you know enough that I don't need to say anything. You are wanting a report for the day?"
"You know it. What's happening in the next couple of days?"
"Well, you know how plans are. They aren't always that accurate, but Heller and the others plan to hit a Green Ones installation tonight."
"Would Kelly be there by chance?"
"I believe he will be."
"Excellent, it will be one more piece of leverage I can use to get him on our side."
"I've been meaning to ask. Are you sure Ethan is the guy you want? He was reluctant to get involved at all."
"That's what makes him a perfect candidate for a witness in upcoming trials. We're in negotiations now, in fact. I'll be sure to mention that he can't implicate you due to immunity and all that."
"Good, good. Anyway, they'll be attacking the Green Ones on the 28th. Next one after that will be the Green Ones headquarters at a date that's yet to be determined."
"Excellent, that's all I need for today. Agent Maher out."
"Copy, take care." Santino said while hanging up the phone. Unknown to him, Mordecai had been recording every word over the last two weeks. This was the first time Ethan had come up though. Was he a turncoat too? I suppose it wouldn't be surprising considering how much effort it took to get him on board to begin with. He was still disappointed though. Ethan was a good soldier and a competent killer, a rare skillset these days in St. Louis. Even more disappointing was how much he had helped Mordecai to narrow down his search for Atlas' killer. It all made sense now, Lombardo was giving out the orders to people all over the country on Capone's behalf. He'd pay for murdering Atlas… one day. Today he had smaller fish to fry, specifically Santino.
"Here, this is all the information you will require to paint Santino as a squealer." Mordecai declared.
Fresina and Weatherbird too the documents in hand and could hardly believe how much was being passed on. "How could he do this to us?" Fresina said in disbelief. "I've known him since we were kids."
"I wish it wasn't the case but these are the facts as they stand. Santino is giving information to Vito Giannola through Tony Lombardo as well as a federal agent who appears to be after all of us."
"Damn…" Frank said. "This can't stan, we need to hit back somehow."
Fresina leaned back in his chair, putting his feet up on the desk. "He'll be going grocery shopping later today, Heller. Look for the Sciales-Costa Grocery Company office at the corner of Seventh and Carr streets. He'll be alone then."
"Consider it done. And what of you?"
"I'll take command of the gang from here. The Santinos will be the Fresinas."
"I'm sure Aiello will approve of the change in management, given the circumstances." Mordecai added.
"Here, I want you to use this." Frank said, giving Mordecai a 38 special revolver. "Let him know it was us."
"I can accommodate this." Mordecai said.
"Good, and I want to know why he betrayed us." Fresina added. "I won't sleep well at night until I know why he needs to die."
Angel of Death
Letters sent, phone calls made, schedule cleared. Now was the perfect time to take care of some personal errands before the close of the day. Opting to walk down to the grocery store, Santino took in the air of the city. Its was busy, continuously moving, and filled with scents ranging from the fresh produce in baskets along the sidewalk to the acidic stink of coal and gas works down by the river. If he played his cards right, this whole damn town would be his soon! Lead the Russos and the Green Ones into a bloody street war that would leave him the new top dog of the city. The feds would be a harder problem to figure out, what with being given a court summons to one of the many cases going on down at the courthouse. But he could play the long game and find a way to get rid of Ulysses, perhaps even buying him off with a larger fish he could fry. Heller would be a good prize, or perhaps even Aiello?
All that didn't matter at this moment, however. He had a family to feed and food to purchase before the store closed up for the day. Something felt… off, though. Like he was being watched. It wasn't a new feeling, mob bosses always had to be looking over their shoulders. Seeing nothing and no one that could be considered a threat, he entered the store. The usual clerk greeted him with a smile and handed Santino a basket. Out on the street he tried not to talk much to people. A wise policy his own mentors taught him years ago.
"Grazie." Is all he said before continuing into the back.
Picking out the perfect tomatoes took time. His wife disliked discolorations and bruises, saying that it affected the taste of the sauce she made from scratch. He didn't think it mattered so much, but he could only afford to fight one war at a time, so peace in the home was necessary for his own sanity. This reminded him to pick up clothing for the kids from the cleaners as well. The nuns at the school would be very displeased if the children of one of their biggest benefactors showed up dirty next week.
As he picked out fruit which would meet his wife's standards, Santino became aware that the busy store was eerily quiet. Quiet enough that he heard the bell jingle from the door up front, and yet the clerk didn't say anything. Placing the last tomato in his basket, Santino started to make for the front. His instincts told him that he was in peril… somehow. A shadowy figure loomed in front of him, emerging from the next isle over. Glasses reflecting his startled face.
"Jesus, Heller. You scared the hell out of me. Is there something you needed?"
"Yes." Mordecai replied. "Why did you sell out your allies?"
"What? You're talking crazy, Heller. I haven—"
"I have enough evidence. Phone calls, letters, contacts, witnesses, all of it. You've been feeding information to the Green Ones through Tony Lombardo, and just today we found out you've been talking to the feds."
"Ha… Even if I am, its not like I'm the only one. What about Kelly?"
"I shall deal with him in short order, but you are a higher priority. Why did you do it?"
Seeing no choice, he gave up the ruse. "When you want to control a city like Saint Louis, you need to make some sacrifices. It's only a matter of time until the Russos are done, and the Green Ones made a mortal enemy in Ethan Kelly. All I had to do was nudge a few pawns around, give out the right information, and we would be on top of the world. You can still join me, Heller. Hell, you're supposed to be loyal to me."
"You are mistaken, I am loyal to Aiello. This transgression cannot go unpunished."
"Wait, what do you—"
Heller drew the revolver and emptied it into Santino's chest. Blood and tomato pulp splashed all over the isle. Santino stumbled back, clutching at his wounds, but six slugs had either lodged themselves inside him or passed through, breaking ribs and tearing through flesh on the way out. He could not find the strength to stand, and so he fell back into the growing pool of his own blood. Heller stood over him with the revolver. After wiping off his prints, he tossed the gun onto the dying cat's chest.
"Fresina and Russo wanted you to know that they gave the order."
"My family…" Santino said with his dying breath.
"Won't be harmed. Waste of my time and talents. Goodbye, Pasquale." Heller then moved on as Santino's ghost flew. Police were already on their way and a crowd of people were peaking in through the windows of the now empty store.
"This will have consequences." Heller thought to himself. Fresina was now calling the shots. They had Vito's men on the run, but now there was a new, more troubling problem. If Ethan was talking to the feds too, God knows what information he could have passed onto them? He didn't seem like the type to betray his allies but given the circumstances of how Ethan got involved in this war it would make sense that he would try to find an exit. Even Santino had a family to look out for. This was going to be a long, hard day, but Ethan needed to be dealt with quickly before he could find a way to defend himself. The Savoys could not be relied on to do the job and everyone else remaining from the Russos or Fresina's gang would be inadequate.
Heller picked up a pay phone and directed the call to Fresina's office. He heard coughing on the other end of the line from smoking cigarettes. "Hello?"
"This is Heller. I have taken care of one problem."
"Did you tell him it was us?"
"Yes. And I will tell you why he did it in person when we can talk in secret."
"Excellent, and how about our other problem?"
"I'm borrowing a car to take care of him now."
"Be careful." Fresina advised Mordecai before hanging up.
"Careful indeed." Heller said to himself before walking to the car.
Two Ghosts and a Shadow
This would be a difficult task to accomplish, but Luke's Mauser rifle was freshly cleaned and ready for action. He pulled off the road near the farmstead where he had nearly succeeded in killing his targets weeks ago. Back then he had people to help him out, and in his boldness he got careless. Now he was cautious, as the person he was hunting had proved to be every bit his equal. Perhaps not as good of a shot as himself, but younger, nimbler, and willing to take risks.
The embarrassment of being fired from the mafia would no longer haunt him after this was over, one was or another. He was bound to either glory or death, a fate he had tried to avoid many times before. But moving on from the life of a gangster was difficult. There was money, women, and excitement in spades. In comparison, the mundane domestic life was unfulfilling. He was born on the streets, raised in the streets, and taught to use a gun in 1917. Now he was a ghost, and this city wasn't big enough for two apparitions. Checking his watch, Luke climbed out of the car and loaded his rifle. Success would make him a legend and would make Vito look like a fool. Failure would mean death, but by this point in his life that no longer scared him.
"You fancy having a turkey for Thanksgiving?" I asked Freckle while cleaning a shotgun. "I hear them every morning down by the river."
"We could just buy one." Freckle said as he laid on his bed in the living room with a magazine in hand.
"Yeah, I guess that would be less work. I take it you've never been hunting, have you?"
"No. Mom hates guns."
"I'll keep that in mind next time she shows up here. I'm glad to see that you and Nina are talking again. It was never my intention to—"
"I know it wasn't, Ethan. You needed my help, and of course I was going to help. I just wish we could have left this whole bootlegging business behind before I got a bullet in my side."
"That will haunt me forever, and I suspect it's haunting Rocky more than he lets on. But at least we can live here, safe in the knowledge that all is quiet and safe—"
A rifle shot busted out the front window, glass cutting my arm as the bullet narrowly missed my head.
"Ah Hell!" Freckle yelled, jumping up.
"Stay down, hide yourself!" I ordered, crawling toward the nearest loaded gun available to me."
"How many are there?"
"I don't know, but at least they decided to show up when the kids and Rocky aren't here."
A cat from the trees shouted out. "Ethan Kelly! We started a duel we have not yet finished!"
"Is that you, Kennedy?!"
"The one and only. Now, are we going to keep talking or start fighting?"
"Freckle, stay in the house for the moment. I'm going to lure this guy away. Give it a few minutes and then make for the trees behind the barn."
"But—"
"No, you aren't healed up yet and I promised your mother I wouldn't let anything happen to you."
"Fine, just be careful." Freckle whispered to me.
"Always. Good luck, kid."
I crawled toward the back door. Opening it slowly, another rifle shot shattered the frame and sent splinters flying down the hall. These were heavy, destructive bullets. No way out that way, but Luke was in the trees, likely in cover where I couldn't pick him out as easily. There was one direction I could go, but it required busting another window. Hurdling myself through the glass, I rolled out onto my side across from the barn. Now I had a chance. Picking myself up, I sprinted for the nearest patch of woods, a bullet narrowly missing my waist and digging up the ground several feet to my side. Diving for the trees, I found a solid stump to use as a shield. This proved useful as another bullet lodged itself deep into the bark on the other side.
"I gotta admit, Kennedy. This feels like déjà vu to me. It didn't end so well for the last guy who tried this."
"That guy wasn't me!" Luke shouted from the trees. As Kennedy carefully maneuvered himself to get a better angle, he felt his shoe step on something metal. Too late to react, a spring tree limb with a knife tied to it buried the blade deep into thigh. I could hear him howl from pain as one of my traps did its job.
"Oh yeah, I've got a few nasty surprises up that way!" I yelled back, laughing. With only a pistol to back me up, a cat needed a sense of humor in times like this.
Checking his wound and concluding it wasn't going to be fatal, Luke lined up and let another bullet fly, this time it bounced off the top of the stump, a splinter nicking my ear. Deciding it was time to find new cover, I moved again. Up on the hill, in the trees, I could just barely see Luke. I took a moment to carefully aim and returned fire with a single bullet. Knowing I missed by several feet, Luke laughed.
"Is that really all you got? I damn pistol?"
"That and my wits!" I yelled back from behind another tree. "I'll bet we have about the same number of bullets though."
"Twenty or thirty?"
Shit… I only had enough spare ammunition for one reload.
"Something like that, ya! Why are you here, Luke? Besides, you know, trying to kill me? Seems kinda odd that you don't have a whole army with you."
"That fool Vito gave me the pink slip. I'm here to prove to him why that was a mistake."
"You know, if you're on the market for another job, nothing says you couldn't work for our side?"
"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that, kid. Now, if you're ready for round two, let's go!"
Freckle came out from behind the couch, grabbing his cane and looking around. Besides broken glass and some wood splinters, there wasn't much damage to the home. He made his way across the room but stopped short when he saw a shadow on the other side of the curtains moving. Holding his breath, he silently retreated as the door handle twisted. Gun drawn; Mordecai entered the home. There was shooting out back, and it appeared Ethan was engaged with someone who happened to get here first. Still, diligence required that he clear the house before getting involved in whatever battle was going on out in the woods.
Freckle peaked out from behind a chair and realized that it was Heller. Was he involved in this attack somehow? On one hand, he wanted to plead for help, but on the other he knew better than to gamble with mercy from Mordecai Heller. He didn't have a gun though, the one time he wished he did. The shotgun on the floor didn't have any shells, they were packed away in the barn. As he gripped the cane, he realized that he wasn't armed after all. The round, polished brass bulb mounted on top the blackthorn stick was deadly in close quarters.
A creak of the floorboards alerted Mordecai, who turned around just in time to meet the brass handle of a shillelagh as it came down on him like a hammer. Mordecai crumpled to the floor, knocked out wit ha concussion. The small Irish lad couldn't quite get the leverage necessary to kill him, but this was good enough for the moment. Freckle turned to leave, but looked down and noticed the shiny Colt 1911 on the floor.
I was starting to run out of places to use for cover, and by now Luke was conserving his ammunition. Unfortunately, so was I. Three shots to save my skin! Still, I had done more with less, but he was matching me shot for shot. If only I had my rifle with, but it was back in the truck packed safely away in the modified guitar case. Freckle knew it was there, so at least there was the possibility that he could defend himself. Rustling of leaves and snapping twigs alerted me to Kennedy's movements. Cocking the hammer back, I took a breath and broke cover.
He was on me like a hunter startling a deer. My pistol and his rifle exchanged fire and both bullets found their mark. A searing hot Mauser bullet clipped a rib and sent me tumbling down the hill. Meanwhile, I heard a cry of pain from Kennedy. My bullet went wide, hitting him in his arm. I couldn't stop myself from rolling down the hill until coming to rest next to a tree. Everything hurt, but I could still move. Pain was good, it meant there wasn't anything seriously wrong. Luke's head became visible up the hill and I raised the pistol with my off hand, taking careful aim. The shot missed and revealed my location. Kennedy struggled to lift the heavy rifle with a British slug embedded in his forearm. As he shot, I rolled to the side to get out of the way of the bullet. It impacted the tree right where I had been sitting. My luck and timing weren't going to last much longer.
Some loose rocks up above gave out and I lost sight of Kennedy for a brief moment. He came crashing down the slope as well, his bad leg getting mangled in knotted up brush. The rifle fell from his hand and landed several feet away. Now I had him if I wanted him.
"That looks pretty bad, Kennedy."
He grunted out through the pain, "yeah, hurts like a bitch."
I leaned back against a tree, in too much pain to stand up. Nothing was broken but the wind had been knocked out of me and I was going to be really bruised up from hitting every rock and tree branch on the way down.
"You know what's funny, Luke? I wouldn't have come after you. Had you left town or even just left me alone, we both would have been better off just walking away."
"That's not how this life works, Ethan. You fight until you lose, and then you die."
"Yeah, well I've been getting tired of fighting lately. Unfortunately for you, I've got one bullet left." I sat up, before struggling to my feet. A nasty gash along my ribs revealed muscle and bone. Based on the intensity of the pain, that rib was likely shattered. Still, it did its job. Had the bullet been an inch high or an inch low it would have passed right into the side of my lung and I would be in much worse shape.
"You got me pretty good there, Luke. But only one of us is making out of here alive."
"Just take your shot."
I raised the pistol up and took aim. The hammer fell… but instead of a bang I only got a fizzle. "Ah fuck…" I said.
Luke, with a laugh, shook himself free and tumbled the rest of the way to his rifle. I dove for the gun as well, but the pain was too intense and I ended up letting go. On my back, the muzzle of the Mauser rifle stared me down.
Bang
Luke slumped forward, with a nasty exit wound through the chest. I quickly moved the muzzle out of my face so that I didn't get shot with Luke's dying breath.
"Ethan, are you alive?!" Freckle called down to me.
"Yeah!" I yelled up the slope. "Just barely."
"I don't think I can carry you."
"You won't have too; I can walk but it's painful to stand."
Hand over hand, I crawled up the steep embankment, using trees and brush as footholds and hand holds. After several minutes and some effort… along with a lot of pain, I made it up to the top. Freckle helped me in the final couple of feet until I could sit down at the edge of the field.
"Let me see the wound. You look like you went through a meat grinder."
"More like I just did nine rounds with Jack Dempsey." I replied, letting Freckle look.
"Nothing too important was hit."
"Yeah, just my rib. That's going to be a pain to heal."
"Heller is here too."
"Mordecai?!" I asked, shocked. "Why the hell wasn't he here helping me kill this guy?"
"I didn't know if he was here to help you or Kennedy, so I knocked him out and cuffed him to a railing."
"Smart lad…" I said, smiling. "Perhaps these two showing up at the same time isn't a coincidence."
Act of Faith
Mordecai's head throbbed with pain as he came too. He tried to rub his head but found that he couldn't move his hands. Opening his eyes, Mordecai found that his vision was blurry. At first, he thought that the blow to his head must have impaired his vision, but someone was quick to put his spectacles on. He was now face to face with Ethan and Calvin.
"So," I asked, "Mind explaining why you broke in with Luke Kennedy of all people?"
"Kennedy was here? What is going on?"
"Freckle must have hit you pretty hard. Luke attacked us and I lured him out of the house. Freckle said you came in a few minutes after."
"I could hear the exchange of gun fire but didn't know who was shooting or why."
"I don't believe you, Heller. Why were you here? If you needed me for something, you would have called. Did you switch sides again or something?"
"Of course not. If Luke Kennedy had found me or any of Vito's men, then he would have killed me where I stood."
It was odd. Heller would have known that Luke was fired by Vito if they were working together. The two cars in the driveway were another piece of evidence which ran contrary to what Freckle and I feared. Still, he had to have a reason to come here.
"That still doesn't explain why you're here, Heller. Why did you drive all the way out here? Why were you moving through my house with a gun drawn?"
"Fine, I came here for you, Ethan. You've been working with a fed."
"Oh for the love of… I have not been working with a fed."
"Then how come Ulysses was recruiting you?"
"How did you come by that information, exactly? I haven't had a phone conversation with him, and I haven't written any letters to him."
"Yet you do know who he is."
"I think there's been a big misunderstanding here, Mordecai. It's true, Ulysses approached me and threatened to have Freckle and Rocky locked up unless I cooperated with him. He was after you and his goal is to bring down the whole St. Louis mafia, or at least the factions still standing after we're done wiping the floor with Vito's outfit. But I didn't rat anyone out. But Ulysses is a rat, that much I know."
"Of course a fed is a rat, he owes us no loyalty…"
"That's right, but apparently, he made a deal with Ransom. That's how Ulysses got to me and gathered enough evidence to put my whole family away for life." I explained as Freckle wrapped my ribcage with gauze and cloth to stop the bleeding and stabilize the rib. "Ulysses told me about Ransom with the expectation that I was going to kill him. Instead I kicked Rocky's father off the property and out of our alliance."
"Where is he now?"
"If he's smart, on a train bound for somewhere else. Either way, the damage is done. I can shoot us out of a lot of situations, but there's no way I can kill every fed in the Treasury Department. If we just kill Ulysses like you did with Drago then in a few months a new fed will take his place. Now then, clearly, I've missed something big if you came here with an aim to kill me. What happened?" I asked, sitting back as Freckle struggled to his feet and limped over to the medicine cabinet.
"Santino is dead, for one thing."
"When, by whom?!" I asked. This was news to me.
"I killed him."
"So you are a turncoat yet again! Well, that figures…"
"No, it was under orders from Fresina. We found out that it was Pasquale who was giving the Green Ones information about our movements. I was writing bogus orders to him and every time I did Green Ones would appear in the noted location at the noted date and time. When I tapped into Santinos phones, I found out he was in talks with Ulysses Maher, that federal agent who approached you. He was trying to recruit you for his own ends."
"Now things are starting to make sense. Don't you see, Mordecai? We're both being played. We have another situation like the Marigolds on our hands. Getting pinched by both your allies and a fed with a mind to kill or imprison us."
"I concur with that assessment. But it will be difficult to persuade Fresina that you weren't going to stab us in the back. What can you do to prove what you've just told me?"
"I can bring Luke's body to Fresina and put it right on his desk, and we can put together a plan to take care of this fed discreetly. That's about the best I can do, because otherwise they'll just have to trust me."
"We will pin this on Ransom." Mordecai reasoned. "The fact that you took care of him immediately is likely going to be proof enough of your loyalty, but we should also do what you've suggested."
"Most important at this moment is one question in particular. If I have Freckle take those handcuffs off of you, are you going to try and kill me?"
"No, I no longer have a reason to. Are you going to kill me?"
"If I wanted to kill you, Heller, I could have a long time ago. No, I'm not going to kill you. I guess we're both going to have to take a leap of faith then. Freckle, let him loose and give him his gun back."
"Are you sure?" He asked.
"Yes. I guess it's time I start learning who to trust and who can't be trusted. Ransom was a mistake, but Heller has been helping us in ways you and Rocky aren't even aware of."
Freckle did as he was told and Mordecai massaged the fur on his wrists back in place. I pulled out his 1911 and looked over. "It's a damn fine gun, Heller. I wish I had one in Europe but only officers were issued a Colt."
"Atlas gave it to me." He said. I could see the faintest of smiles forming across his face.
"He must have meant a lot to you if you're still hunting his killer after all this time."
"When I get back to Chicago, I will do whatever I must to get close enough to Tony Lombardo." Mordecai explained as he put his pistol away.
"Then let's finish the job here and get you back to Chicago." I said, reaching my hand out.
Mordecai looked down and hesitated but took my hand in his and we shook on it. "Apologies for the mess."
"Eh, don't worry about it. Replacing the glass is easy enough, and you didn't cause most of it anyway. I'll come by with Luke's body tomorrow. In the meantime, you nee to spin this misunderstanding in a way that doesn't get us both on Fresina's hit list."
"Agreed. Until tomorrow then."
As Heller drove away, Calvin took a break from sweeping to ask me a question that had been on his mind since Heller came to. "Are you really going to walk into Fresina's office tomorrow? Don't you want any backup or an escape in case Heller is setting a trap?"
"No, Freckle. I don't want you or Rocky involved in this. Besides, I have a feeling that Mordecai is still an ally. He's in just as dangerous of a position as us if Ulysses is after him."
"Still, walking into that place knowing you might get killed is a scary thought."
"Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil." I said. "Or at least that's probably what Nina would say, right? And if God isn't on my side, Ogun must be because I can't explain how else I'm still alive."