I pull it closed but don’t step away immediately. Instead, I’m pressing my ear to it. I hear nothing through the door, but I suspect she’ll peek through the spy hole at any moment. My men and brother have the same thought I do, as they press themselves against the wall, so she won’t see any of us. I continue to listen for any sounds inside the room, but it’s as though no one’s there. I look over at Joaquin, and he tilts his head toward the elevator.
We need to find out if the receptionist gave us the wrong room number on purpose. We head to the opening elevator doors as I pull my phone out and find the contact for the guy we were supposed to meet.
Me
What room number?
I shoot off the text as we head downstairs, and a second later, a reply comes through.
Sender
We’re at 552.
I turn the phone toward Joaquin as I follow him into the elevator. His hand shoots out to hold the door open. The room is in the opposite direction from where we just were, which was five-twenty-five. This is my mission, but I ask for Joaquin’s opinion.
“Do we leave, or go to him, or go back to the vehicles to regroup?”
“I say we check it out but be prepared to run.”
I don’t want anyone to see us because that would bring attention to us. There’d be seven Latino men in tailored suits running through a Holiday Inn. It sounds like the shittiest spy movie ever, but we’re all in excellent shape because these things happen. We have to be prepared in case we need to bolt.
We step away from the elevator. Joaquin looks at Paco, and he knows to stay here. We all have earpieces in, so we can communicate without making calls. If anyone questionable approaches, he’ll let us know. He’ll also notice if the woman tries to leave.
The rest of us hurry down the hallway. I draw my gun for a second time before knocking on the door. I hate not having the element of surprise, since the key card is to the wrong room.
I don’t like people boxing me in, which is basically what waiting in a hallway is. It also means I’m not in charge of the meeting from the get-go. That’s not a problem so much as an inconvenience. It doesn’t set the tone the way I want it to.
The door opens a couple inches, and I raise my gun just like I did the last time. Except since I’m not opening the door, I put my shoulder against it and shove the man on the other side. He didn’t expect that, so the door swings open. Joaquin, my men, and I flood the room. No sounds of shattering glass meet us, but my men do the same thing as before, sweeping the area.
This time around, they find two armed men waiting in the bedroom. These Chicago Mafiosos are no more thrilled to have guns pointed at them than the woman was. My men strip them of their weapons and force them onto their knees.
“This isn’t a good start to the meeting, Luigi. Having men hiding, ready to jump us.”
“They were watching the soccer game and staying out of the way.”
Fat fucking chance, but I let that excuse go. I gesture with my gun to the sofa and coffee table. Luigi nods and leads the way. I already saw the suitcase just inside the bedroom door. Joaquin fetches it and brings it over.
“What took you so long to get up here?”
Presumptuous fuck. I don’t answer to Luigi, so I ignore the question. I definitely don’t want to admit we went to the wrong room.
“Let’s see what you have.” I control this situation, not him.
Luigi glances around before hoisting the small suitcase onto the coffee table and sitting on the sofa. He leans forward to do the combination lock. He looks at Joaquin, then me, before unzipping the luggage.
“It’s all here, just like my boss promised.”
His boss. That fucker. I’m certain Salvatore Mancinelli doesn’t know Edoardo Rizzo is doing a deal with us. He’d shit a brick. Not only are we doing a deal with aCosa Nostrafamily, we’re doing it here in NYC. Right under his fucking nose.
But little does Edoardo know what’s coming next. If we fuck him over, then we fuck over his in-laws, the Vizzinis in Boston. Why leapfrog to them? They fucked over mytía.TíoEnrique isn’t done with Tommaso Vizzini for the shit position he put my soon-to-beTíaElodie in just after my uncle and new aunt met. It’ll be a long time before my family is good with his.
“Then let’s see. The longer you take, the less I trust you.” If negative trust is possible, that’s where we’re already at.
“Here you go.”
They don’t look like much, but the small Persian prayer rugs have micro-nano-chips woven into them and cumulatively are worth just shy of one-point-two billion. I pick up a rug and unroll it, running my fingers over the fabric, knowing what I’mlooking for. It doesn’t take long before Joaquin and I verify the shipment is as it should be.
“Good.” I’m not known to be effusive.
