Psychological Damage (Gray Spear Society) Page 14

  Somewhere inside that huge building was her target, James Licavoli, the head of the Licavoli crime family. He would be well guarded.

  She smiled. This is going to be fun.

  Her first and most important decision was the style of entry. She could go in like a ninja, avoiding detection as she silently searched the house for Licavoli. That method was risky because if a guard spotted her inside, she would be surrounded and trapped within seconds. However, if she could pull it off, a covert entry would minimize bloodshed.

  The alternative was preemptively killing every target in sight. That approach was a lot quicker and safer from her perspective, plus it suited her personality. Aaron told me to be safe, she thought. She took the sniper rifle off her back and turned on the scope.

  Like her goggles, the scope was equipped with a light amplifier. She could see her targets as if the sun were shining. She picked off the guards at the gate first. While one was looking the wrong way, she put a bullet into the skull of the other. Then she killed his partner. The targets were only a hundred yards away, so despite the awkward shooting position, she had no difficulty making the shots. The suppressor on the barrel reduced the noise to a loud hiss.

  The guards patrolling the fence went down as easily. She had a little more trouble with the guards near the house. One managed to cry out before she silenced him.

  She waited and watched for a few minutes to make sure the area was clear. Then she climbed down.

  Her car was parked behind some trees near the road. She put the sniper rifle on the back seat since it was too bulky for sneaking around inside a house. She switched to a pair of HK USP Compacts with suppressors, one for each hand.

  She jogged up to the house. The gates were closed, but she was agile enough to climb over. She paused to admire the nice placement of her shots on the gate guards. Aaron was the expert marksman on the team, but she wasn't a slouch.

  She walked around the house while she considered the best way to get inside. She noticed lights in a room in the back, and she peeked through a window. Two men were sipping coffee in a kitchen with their guns lying on the table in front of them. She shot both of them through the window, two bullets for each man.

  A door nearby was locked. Fortunately, she was a master at lock picking, and even though this lock was of the highest quality, she opened it easily enough.

  She flipped down her night vision goggles, and the world turned bright green. She made sure to move absolutely silently, just as Ethel had taught her.

  Marina's heart was beating fast. She loved invading hostile territory, where dangerous enemies lurked around every blind corner. This kind of excitement was her reward for enduring a life otherwise filled with tedium and drudgery. Without these moments she had no reason to exist.

  The house was huge, and it took a while to sweep the entire first floor, but she made sure to look everywhere. She discovered two more guards near the front door. Killing them was too easy.

  Satisfied that she wouldn't get ambushed from behind, she proceeded to the second floor, where the bedrooms were located. Again, she checked everywhere. In the rooms where people were sleeping, she made sure they stayed asleep by given them a small dose of venom.

  The lights were on in one of the hallways. Marina used a mirror to peek around the corner and saw two guards sitting on either side of a closed door. The target must be in there, she thought. She rolled into the light, and from a prone position she shot both men in the head. Their brains splattered against the wall.

  She waited a moment to be sure it was safe. Then she reloaded her guns.

  She turned off the lights in the hallway and went back to the night vision goggles. Darkness and silence were the greatest allies of a Spear.

  She worked her way up the hallway until she finally reached the door at the end. Very carefully, she opened it. A man and a woman were sleeping in a huge, ornately decorated bedroom.

  Marina padded across the room and gave the woman a good dose of venom. She made a little noise before she passed out.

  The man said, "Huh? What?" He turned on a light on his bed stand.

  Marina aimed a gun at his face, giving him a nice view directly down the barrel. He froze. She pulled back his sheet to make sure he wasn't hiding a weapon underneath. He wore only boxer shorts.

  "Get out of bed," she said. "Move very slowly. If you twitch, you'll be dead before you hit the floor."

  He slowly got to his feet. "Do you know who I am?"

  "James Licavoli." She gestured towards an overstuffed chair in the corner of the room. "Sit there."

  Licavoli appeared to be about sixty years old. He had a full head of black hair, obviously the result of hair dye. He was big, and even though most of his muscle had wasted away, she could tell he had been a very strong man at one time.

  "You understand what will happen to you. I'll kill you, your family, your friends, and their families."

  "I've heard better threats from people who could actually back them up with action," she said. "Sit!"

  He sat on the chair and looked at the woman on the bed. "My wife..."

  "Unconscious, and so are your children. Only the men are dead."

  "You killed all of them?"

  She nodded. "You're the only person left in the house who is still awake. It's just you and me."

  He became pale. "Why?"

  "I have a question, and you have the answer." She took a street map out of her pocket and tossed it to him.

  He unfolded the map.

  "Do you see where I marked an X?" she said.

  He nodded. "Near the mall."

  "That's right. Who controls that territory?"

  "Me."

  "Then I'm talking to the right guy." She smiled. "Here is the important question. Who controlled it seventeen years ago?"

  "Huh?" He gave her a funny look. "Why?"

  "Just answer."

  "I forget."

  "A man who calls himself Mr. C was also reluctant to talk," Marina said, "but by the time I was done, he gave me your name and home address."

  Licavoli raised his eyebrows. "He ratted on me?"

  "Don't blame him. I messed him up pretty bad."

  He crossed his arms defiantly. "You can't make me talk. I'll never snitch."

  She shot both his knees. Then she raised her guns and shot his shoulders, shattering the joints. He gasped in agony.

  "Good," she said. "Now you can't go anywhere." She holstered her guns.

  "I'll rip out your fucking..."

  "Shut up." She selected a set of pincers from the collection of tools on her belt. "I do the ripping out of things here. Hold still. This will hurt a lot." She brought the pincers close to his face.

  Licavoli was a tough guy. She had to tear out both of his eyes, his ears, and plenty of teeth before he finally broke. He blubbered out a name and an address.

  "You're sure?" she said, "If you're lying, I'll come back here. I won't be so nice to you then."

  He nodded. His mangled face was dripping with blood.

  She gave him a dose of venom to make him sleep for a few hours. She didn't want him warning her next target. She also wrote the word "snitch" on his forehead in permanent marker. His own people would take care of him in their own way.

  * * *

  Marina drove through the parking lot of the Garden Heights Retirement Community. It was a large campus consisting of two story apartment buildings arranged in a fan pattern. An octagonal structure with walls made of glass stood in the center. The immaculate landscaping included brick paths between lush trees and flower gardens. There were ponds with lily pads. An old fashioned, white gazebo stood in the middle of a large lawn.

  Nice place to retire, Marina thought.

  She checked her watch. It was still dark but dawn was approaching. The sunlight was her enemy.

  She parked her car and contemplated the best way to proceed. She was looking for Salvatore Licavoli, the uncle of the man she had tortured earlier. However, she didn't know h
is room number. She doubted he was staying under his real name, so checking a directory wouldn't help. Searching the entire place room by room was impractical.

  A young, black woman in a nurse's uniform came out of a side door. She walked across the parking lot, apparently going to her car. Marina had an idea.

  She quickly took off her utility belt and all her visible weapons. She grabbed a cash roll from her backpack. Then she sprinted across the parking lot to catch the nurse.

  "Miss!" Marina said. "May I speak with you?"

  The nurse turned. "What?"

  Marina was still wearing her black and gray, camouflage tights. The nurse looked at her with a curious expression.

  "I have a question about one of the residents."

  "I'm not allowed to talk about the residents," the nurse replied. "We have strict confidentiality rules at Garden Heights."

  Marina counted out five hundred dollars and handed the money over. "What did you say?"

  "Umm."

  Marina gave the nurse another five hundred dollars. "I can't hear you."

  "What's your question?" The nurse pocketed the money.

  "There is a gentleman living here. In his eighties. Italian. Very secretive. I expect he has large, unfriendly bodyguards and lives in the nicest room available. Rumors of mob connections?"

  The nurse narrowed her eyes. "I know him. A real asshole. He likes to smack girls on the ass."

  Marina smiled. "Where is he?"

  The nurse frowned and tapped her toe.

  "You don't owe this man any loyalty."

  "If he finds out I talked..."

  "He won't, ever." Marina handed over the rest of the cash. She didn't know how much there was, but it was a lot.

  The nurse ran her thumb along the edge of the thick stack. "Are you going to hurt him?"

  "Just give me the information or give me back my money."

  The nurse thought about it for a few seconds, and then pointed at one of the buildings. "Room 1265, second floor, north end. We call it the presidential suite."

  "Thank you. Now go away and forget you saw me. We never talked. OK?"

  The nurse nodded and hurried off.

  Marina moved her car to a parking spot that was as close to the target as possible. She buckled on all her equipment and stepped outside.

  She examined the building. Brown, wooden shingles covered the exterior. There were balconies on the second floor, and with a running jump she could probably pull herself up, but she didn't know which one was Licavoli's. To find the right room she had to go inside.

  She went to a side door. It was locked, but her lock picks fixed that problem. Moving silently, she climbed a staircase and peeked around the corner.

  A man in a suit was sitting on a chair near door number 1265. He seemed to be half asleep. She shot him in the forehead with her silenced pistol.

  She ran to the door and found that it was also locked. She searched the man for the key and unlocked the door that way. She slipped into the dark apartment, dragged the dead body inside, and closed the door.

  The lights suddenly came on.

  Another bodyguard was standing in the room, holding a revolver. "What the...?"

  Marina didn't let him finish the sentence. She threw herself flat on the floor and pumped five bullets into his face and chest. He shot back at her before he died, but he missed completely. However, the revolver made a bang loud enough to wake the neighbors.

  She drew her second gun and held one in each hand. She ran through the large apartment, turning on lights and searching for more threats. She came to a bedroom where a very old man was lying in bed. An IV was attached to his arm, and a heart monitor beeped softly.

  "Who are you?" he croaked.

  "That doesn't matter," she said. "Are you Salvatore Licavoli?"

  He shook his head. "I don't know him."

  "Liar. I can see the family resemblance. You even use the same hair dye as your nephew."

  "You know James?"

  She heard a footstep. She spun and killed another bodyguard.

  "We'll talk later," she said. "It's time to go."

  "I can't move," Licavoli said. "I'm too sick."

  Marina yanked the IV out of his arm, ripped off the heart sensor, and dragged him out of bed. The old man felt like a sack of bones in her hands.

  Using the stairs to escape would take too much time. She expected that some kind of security was already on its way. The bedroom had an outdoor balcony, which gave her a better idea. She took a sheet off the bed and tied the end tightly around Licavoli's chest. Then she opened the balcony door.

  "What are you doing?" he said nervously.

  She pulled him to the balcony and shoved him over the railing. He tumbled helplessly. She grasped the sheet with both hands and used all her strength to slow his fall and keep him from breaking a leg.

  She climbed over the railing and landed beside him.

  "Move," she commanded.

  She dragged him by the arm to her car. He stumbled, and she had to carry him part of the way. She threw him onto the back seat and injected venom into his neck to keep him quiet.

  Police sirens were approaching.

  Her heart beating fast, she drove away.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The eastern sky was painted with spectacular reds and oranges as the sun rose behind thin cloud cover. It was hard not to admire God's handiwork on mornings like this one. Marina felt lucky to see it.

  She stretched her arms and yawned. After a long night filled with mayhem, she was physically depleted. She would have to rest soon. At least the cool morning air helped keep her awake.

  She sat on the trunk of her car while Salvatore Licavoli still slept on the back seat. He had stayed unconscious longer than she had expected, given that he had received just a modest dose of venom. Maybe he was too old and weak to shake it off. His bluish skin color made him look more dead than alive.

  His poor medical condition worried her. He was an old school mafia man, so he wouldn't give up any information without a fight. However, if she tried to torture him, she might accidently kill him instead. He would go to the grave with the answers to her questions.

  There was only one solution. She took out her phone and called Aaron.

  "Hello?" he answered in a sleepy voice.

  "This is Marina."

  "You're still alive."

  "Of course," she said, "and I need help. Bring Wesley here, please. He needs to get the truth out of a man."

  "Huh? It's six in the morning, and we're tired. Somebody woke us up in the middle of the night."

  "At least you got some sleep. Please. It's important."

  He sighed. "Is it safe? I won't take Wesley into a dangerous situation. I don't care how important it is."

  "I'm alone with one prisoner, who is sick and very old. We're parked behind a department store where nobody will bother us. I'd say it's safe." She gave him the address.

  "We'll get there as soon as we can."

  "Thanks. I love you."

  "Yeah, sure." He ended the call.

  She sat down beside Licavoli on the back seat so she could keep an eye on him. She fought to stay awake while she waited for Aaron. The interior of the car was pleasantly warm and quiet.

  Licavoli began to stir.

  Finally, Marina thought.

  He opened his eyes, blinked, and looked around. "You're that woman."

  "Yes."

  "Why am I here?"

  "I have a few questions for you," she said.

  "I won't talk. The Licavolis aren't snitches."

  "That's not quite true. Your nephew James gave me your name and address. Of course I had to torture him for the information."

  He curled his lip back. "He gets his weakness from his mother. When I ran the family business..."

  "Shut up, asshole. If you saw what I did to him, you'd be more sympathetic."

  "A tough broad, huh?" He raised his chin. "I'm not afraid of a puttana like you."

 
"That's because you're a fool."

  "You're wasting your time with me."

  She sighed and leaned back. "We'll see."

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed his hand slowly sliding towards her. She still wore her utility belt, which had knives and guns strapped to it.

  "Keep that hand in your lap," she said, "or I'll break it off at the wrist and make you lick the stump."

  He pulled his hand back. "A woman of your age should be married with children, not pretending to be a soldier."

  "A man of your age should mind his own damn business."

  "No respect." He sniffed. "That's the problem with your generation."

  She stared at him. "A dirt bag like you wants respect from me?" She rolled her eyes.

  After a pause, he said, "How did you get to James?"

  "I went to his house."

  "He has good security."

  "Not anymore." She patted her gun.

  He pressed his lips together anxiously.

  A white van came around a corner. Marina smiled when she recognized Aaron in the driver's seat. The van parked nearby.

  She eagerly got out and walked over. Aaron, Yvonne, and Wesley climbed out of the van to meet her. Aaron wore a gray sweat suit, Yvonne had jeans and a plain, white T-shirt, and Wesley wore the same clothes as yesterday. Clearly, they had dressed in a hurry.

  Marina gave Aaron a kiss. "Thanks for coming."

  "Let's do this quickly," he said. "I need coffee."

  "Wesley, that guy in the car is a retired mobster. He was the boss when my parents were killed. Can you help me get the truth out of him?"

  "OK." Wesley frowned.

  Marina extracted Licavoli from the car. His bare legs shook as he stood on the parking lot, and he leaned on the car for support.

  Wesley came over and studied the man who was ten times his age.

  "What's this?" Licavoli said. "Bring your brat to work day?"