Don

15

"f**k," Pierto moaned in pain uncharacteristically.

"Tell me about it." DiAngelo replied in the same tone, but it was totally characteristic for him.

"Ma back. Ma leg. Ma arm-"

"I didn't mean literally tell me about it. It's an idiom idiot."

"Oh," Pierto frowned. He then he giggled at the second part of that sentence.

"Haha, idiom i***t," He laughed. "Get it?"

Pierto was definitely concussed; this was complete DiAngelo-like behavior.

"He's coming for them," DiAngelo stated somberly.

That statement slapped Pierto's concussion out if the way.

Nu-ting buddy.

"And we're twenty miles away from the nearest town. " Pierto added.

"s**t!"

"You said that already."

Pierto glared at DiAngelo, not appreciating his smart comment.

"No service. Still."

"I think we miscalculated. We're fifty miles from the nearest town now, and we've been walking for an hour."

"How would you know? "

"That sign right there."

Pierto glanced where DiAngelo pointed.

Sure enough, 50 miles to the next town.

"We're in Sicily." Pierto realized.

"f**k. Do you know any Sicilians that town who don't want to kill one or both us?"

Pierto thought about it, before shaking head. "...I slept with this guy's sorellina, dumped her the next day. Her brother wants my ass a golden spike."

(Little sister)

"I mean anyone important. "

Pierto smiled sheepishly. "It was the Don di Raggazi Famiglia é sorellina."

DiAngelo's eye twitched, his hand shook for his gun.

He was going to pistol-whip his little brother, and enjoy it.

Deciding against pistol-whipping Pierto's already concussed head, he settled for snacking it.

"I deserved that," Pierto nodded.

"Yeah," DiAngelo punched him in the stomach, "You did."

"I deserved that a lot less," He said hoarsely.

"Where are we going?"

"We're on the island of Sicily; the closet city I know of that's safe is Palermo."

"That's a days walk,"

"Add in sleeping and trying to eat, and you've got a three-day walk." Pierto corrected.

"Did you salvage anything useful from the wreckage?"

"A gun or two, a couple full magazines, and extra bullets that's all."

The walked in silence for the next half hour.

DiAngelo finally cracked and asked the trillion dollar question.

"How are we going to warn the girls, or get anyone to get them out of there?"

"I sent a quick text to Giano, told him to get them and bring them to the House. I don't know if it got sent or not, my phone cracked during the landing."

DiAngelo nodded, let the thoughtful ambience reign for a few minutes.

"Have you prayed?"

"No," Pierto frowned, looking at his brother, "Why?"

DiAngelo looked ahead, not meeting his gaze, his eyes trained on the abandoned country road in front of them that seemed to stretch in forever.

"I asked because if we ever want to see our girls again, He'd be the only one strong enough to safe them,"

Pierto's brow creased.

"I just thought you might want wanna start supplicating, because it only gets worse from here."

Giano frowned at the message. He was boarding his plane when his phone chimed.

Pierto Russo:

The girls are in danger. Get them to the Casa di Russo Famigila in Italia quickly. Shot heard around the world.

SOG.

"Lucy!" Giano called.

"Would ya stop with that?" His sister Luciana glared.

Giano ignored that question.

"Lucy, I need you to retrieve the two women we put in the Safehouse quickly and I mean very quickly."

Luciana frowned, picking up her bag if weapons. "What s happening?"

"It would appear the Russo brothers need us to Save Their Girls."