My Mafia Madness 4

Chapter 17 - Tracking the Tracker

As Petros looked around, he noted that the entire room he was now sitting in was extremely dark and held a musky scent.

One that he could not quite identify.

As he slowly began to open his eyes from his most recent state of unconsciousness, the freelance henchman began to notice more detail of his newest surroundings.

None of which were giving him a good feeling.

Struggling to recall, all that he remembered was having arrived at the agreed upon location to meet with Vincenzo, making his way up the path towards the entrance and then… nothing.

Nothing but black.

He did however start to feel the ache in the back of his head which was definitely not there before he had arrived!

Attempting to lift his hand up and assess the aching area, he paused upon realising that he was physically unable to.

Scoffing in frustration, he looked down to identify the reason.

“What the f**k?”

Both his hands were restrained!

He could clearly see that they both had rope tied tightly around them, binding him to the two armrests of the chair he was currently seated on.

Not only that, but both his feet were tied to the chair’s legs as well, rendering him completely helpless.

“What’s going on?” he called out in a sudden fit of anger, bouncing up and down in the chair.

“Vincenzo? What the hell’s going on here? Somebody better speak to me!”

Silence was the only response he received as Petros started tugging his arms and legs in a pointless effort to free himself from his restraints.

Grunting and groaning, he didn’t manage to loosen his bindings and only caused his anxiety to heighten.

Why was he here?

Who was responsible for doing this to him?

Had the Reaper’s men found him?

Did they perhaps learn about the tracker he had planted on Dante’s jet, and grab him right out of plain sight?

As countless questions rolled over and over within his head, Petros hadn’t yet noticed the red blinking light up in the corner of the room.

A security camera was watching and listening to everything that he did and said.

Just as he was about to yell out for someone to come and start spilling some answers, the sound of the door unlocking drew his attention towards it.

His head turned in its direction and his eyes locked onto the door as it swung open.

“Hello?”

He called out, squinting his eyes to try and block out some of the outside light cascading in from the outside hallway.

“Where am I?”

A lone figure stepped in through the open doorway, followed by two others before the door was suddenly closed behind them and locked from the other side.

Whoever these three men were, he was all alone with them.

Allowing his eyesight to adjust to the once again darkened conditions of the room around him, Petros continued to blink over and over until he started to make out some of the all too familiar features of the men who had just joined him.

In particular, the man standing right in the middle.

His heart dropped into his stomach as he locked eyes on those of none other than the man he had been working for, Don Vincenzo Moroni himself.

“Don Moroni?”

“Petros…”

The Don spoke with a small smirk as he lit up a cigarette now balanced in his mouth and took a long puff of its soothing smoke deep into his lungs.

Still baffled and unable to come to any sort of a conclusion regarding why he had been brought here, Petros looked at the other two men standing just off behind him.

He didn’t recoignise either of them and in this line of business, that was not a good sign.

“What’s going on?”

Petros finally found his voice, as his eyes flicked from one man to the next in question, desperate to be given some answers.

Any answers!

Exhaling a big breath of smoke, Vincenzo smiled at his bound prisoner before he went on to speak.

“Where’s the tracker, Petros?” he enquired calmly, tapping the end of his cigarette before he lifted it back up and prepared to take another puff.

“If I’m not mistaken, you were told to bring it with you when you came here.”

And just like that, Petros knew why he was tied up like this, still alive but yet to be harmed.

He had something that Don Moroni wanted.

“It’s in a safe place.”

Petros spoke confidently, purposely keeping his answer vague as he continued to try and pull his arms free of their restraints.

“You of all people know how this sort of thing works, sir.”

Now holding the cigarette between his fingers, Vincenzo’s expression had immediately hardened as he stood staring down at Petros.

“I don’t want to have to ask you again, and as you might have already guessed, time is of the essence here, so…”

The Don paused, tapping on the end of his cigarette again and allowing the ash to fall to the floor beside his expensive leather shoes.

“Tell me what I want to know, or I may have to make you talk.”

Upon hearing the undoubtable threat coming from the Don’s lips, Petros went straight into his defensive mode.

He needed to make it clear that harming him would only make things more difficult for them.

“If you do anything to me, and I do mean anything, the tracker’s going straight to my sources. If that happens, you’ll never find out where the Reaper took your wife.”

Petros shot his comment at the Don snidely, as if he somehow had the upper hand in this matter.

Unfortunately for him, that was far from the case.

Once again holding the cigarette between his fingers, Vincenzo’s expression had immediately hardened as he stood staring down at Petros, free of any sense of guilt or remorse for what he was about to do.

Little did Petros know, Don Moroni had an ace up his sleeve.

“You mean your two sources Billy Klein and Jacob Williams? Those sources?” the Don mused knowingly as he turned to the side and one of the men standing behind him moved up to hand him something he had been holding up until now.

Focusing on what it was, Petros quickly identified the object to be a silver briefcase.

But there appeared to be some smeared stains on the sides and on the handle.

Stains of something that was red.

“What the f**k is that?” Petros demanded as his adrenalin spiked.

“And how the hell do you know the names of my sources? I never gave you their names, Moroni!”

Vincenzo began to chuckle deeply at the daft questions.

“You forget who I am and what I do for a living, Petros.” he spoke with a sinister grin as he stepped forwards and closed the gap between him and his prisoner within a second, with the briefcase in hand.

Stopping within reaching distance of Petros, Vincenzo turned the briefcase around and then proceeded to open the two clasps, one at either side.

“What is that? What’s in there?” Petros demanded frantically as he sat watching, with his eyes glued to the case and his mind racing.

But he couldn’t have prepared himself for what he was about to see…

Opening the briefcase, Vincenzo kept his eyes locked on the seated man’s eyes, to view his exact expression at the time he learned of the fates of his apparent sources, Billy and Jacob.

Petros’ two close friends of many years.

And in that moment, a part of Petros died as he locked his eyes with the disturbing contents of the briefcase.

“No…”

He whimpered the sole word with his bottom lip trembling uncontrollably as he sat staring down at the two severed limbs sitting inside of the briefcase, surrounded by a congealing pool of blood.

He knew those tattoos better than anyone else! He had known both men since they were in school together. The three of them were inseparable.

The severed foot bearing a black-inked eagle tattoo, with the bird flying along the outer edge of its heel belonged to his buddy Jacob.

The severed hand with the letters forming ‘love’ across his recently decomposing knuckles was Billy’s… there was no doubt about it.

Vincenzo had both his best friends killed!

Both limbs were easily identifiable from their tattoo’s alone, and both looked recently taken.

The sudden need to vomit arose from within the bound prisoner as realisation hit him hard.

Both of his friends had been hunted down and senselessly murdered as recently as in the past few hours!

They were both dead.

And it was all because of him…

Because of what he knew and had hidden out of greed.

Drool began to run down from his still open mouth as he tried to form words of anger, to vent his current feelings of betrayal and hatred for such a malicious and unnecessary act.

But nothing would come out.

Nothing but senseless groans and moans as he closed his eyes and lowered his head.

“Now you know how serious I am about this, Petros… though it is unfortunate you had to learn about this the hard way.”

Vincenzo spoke again, breaking the saddened silence between them as he closed the briefcase and handed it back to the henchman that he had received it from.

“Tell me where the tracker is. Unless you want to end up like your friends here?”

“Go to hell.”

Petros barely whispered his snarky remark as his eyes narrowed in fury.

“You killed my friends… I ain’t telling you s**t!”

But it was loud enough for the Don to have heard.

And he was by all means unimpressed.

Pursing his lips together into a fine line and lowering his head, Vincenzo realised that this would in fact take a little convincing after all.

Luckily, he had prepared for such a situation in advance.

“Very well then… it’s your call.” the Don announced, lifting both his brows as he turned his head to the side and met eyes with the two men waiting off in the shadows.

“Get to work, both of you.”

With their Don’s permission, both massive men stepped out of the darkness and into the dim lighting of the room, revealing just how menacing and muscular they truly were to poor Petros as he lifted his head up to see them.

And what’s worse, the larger one Jimmy was wearing a pair of golden knuckle busters on his right hand!

The shorter of the two was Declan. He was the one who had handed the Don the briefcase earlier on.

Declan wore several harnesses covering his waist and shoulders and attached to each harness were an assortment of different sized and shaped knives and daggers.

His collection as Declan liked to call it.

The knife-wielding henchman’s dark almost black eyes were hungrily fixated on Petros as he stepped in closer towards him, reaching up and unsheathing one of the larger hunting knives he had on his possession.

It was at least twelve inches in length and incredibly sharp!

“Does it matter if he’s missing a few pieces of him when this is all over with?” a clearly psychotic Declan asked the Don aloud.

“Do whatever you need to do. Just get me the location of that tracker.”

Vincenzo commanded as he walked towards the door, intending on leaving them to their dirty work.

The bigger henchman Jimmy rolled his shoulders back a couple of times, as if preparing himself for the physical work he was about to do.

Basically, both henchmen intended on beating the s**t out of Petros until he gave up the location of the tracker or, worst case scenario, he died first.

But just as the door was unlocked and opened for Vincenzo to exit the room, Petros’ level of fear had suddenly risen to an uncontrollable level, completely consuming him as he desperately called out after the Don.

“Wait! Don Moroni, I’ll tell you!” he announced fearfully.

“The tracker… I’ll tell you where it is! Please!”

Like music to his ears, Vincenzo grinned with a sinister expression as he turned to face Petros.

“Well?” he mused, lifting both his brows in impatience.

“If I were you, I’d start talking.”

-

Now having located the tracker which had been hidden in the ceiling of Petros’ apartment of all places, Vincenzo was about to be informed of where Dante’s jet had landed.

Domenico handed the recovered tracker to his capo and made the announcement proudly.

“They’re in Canada, boss. Toronto to be more precise.”

Frowning as he was handed the tracker, Vincenzo couldn’t quite understand why Dante had chosen to run with Alexa to Toronto, of all places.

“Why Canada? Does he have any contacts there that we know of?” the Don questioned his underling, having a good look at the tracking device and the screen with the beeping red dot on it as he spoke.

Domenico shook his head as he clasped both hands together behind his back.

“Not to my knowledge, but I’ll look into it.”

Nodding his head, Vincenzo handed Domenico back the tracker as he spoke.

“And have my jet prepared for an immediate departure...” he commanded.

“I want to be up in the air within the hour.”

“So, we are going after them?” Domenico queried, lifting his left brow in excitement.

Vincenzo’s expression remained serious as he spoke while gazing out through the nearby window.

“Ignoring the fact that Dante Romano has kidnapped my beautiful wife, if that bastard has fled with her to Toronto there has to be a good reason behind it.”

The Don explained whilst narrowing his eyes.

“And I fully intend on finding out just what that reason is.”