Owning the Mafia Don

Lucien

They were on the hills keeping watch. The knowledge that Khan was arriving shortly had galvanized them into action. Even the biting cold and the wind that tore into them through their warm layers of clothing, did not seem to matter anymore.

Schwartz came towards him, moving in the shadows of the towering trees around them.

He had his binoculars and his gun in position.

They had brought along their posse of men too.

“Boss?” he asked, and Lucien turned to look at him.

“Aiyana sent a message.”

The woman in question was in the apartment, in contact with her FBI friends and a man in the CIA who had passed on the vital information about the proposed meeting.

How she had managed to tap into her former resources and get them on board was a mystery to the Mafia Don. He guessed that the US government agencies were also eager to flush out Khan, who was beginning to be a huge nuisance.

Lucien raised a heavy eyebrow enquiringly.

“Something about a shift in the venue,” said Schwartz, His breath came out in cold mists as he spoke. Lucien stiffened.

“How reliable is that?” he growled.

“It’s the information from her pals at Langley,” replied Schwartz, shivering and huddling into his heavy parka.

“Reliable alright.”

Lucien scowled as he stared into the distance.

“Where ?” he snapped.

Schwartz looked up at the high mountains around them.

“Higher up,” he announced gloomily, His face showed his dismay at having to climb the treacherous mountains in this weather with a light snow and the deep gorge on the other side.

“Somewhere up there, in a tiny chata overlooking the river. Steep climb, that.”

“Let’s go,’ barked Lucien and Schwartz nodded, sighing inwardly.

If he never saw a snow-capped mountain in his life, he thought tiredly, and then he would be the happiest person on the planet. He was sick of the unending whiteness around him, the snow, and the high peaks, which were bleak and sinister. Lucien Delano was a city man; he had lived all his life surrounded by streets thronging with people, and the bustle, the noise of the city, called out to him. The silence of this eerie landscape annoyed him.

He reflected that climbing uphill would not be easy at all and they were lucky to have brought all the equipment needed. But the heavy ammunition would have to be spread out amongst themselves.

He followed the Boss downhill as the older man moved, swiftly, purposefully downhill, flanked by his watchful, alert guards…

***

Aiyana looked up as they entered the room. She had been chewing her nails, the only sign of her agitation and she glanced at Lucien Delano. Wrapped in her woollen coat, she seemed pale and uncomfortable. The cold was making her feel low.

Not a sensation she appreciated.

“Here,” she announced, indicating an area on her open laptop.

“Over here.”

She pointed at her screen.

“This is where Rudenko is planning to meet Salam Khan. There is a small makeshift helipad there which was built a couple of nights ago. He will be flying in from the west, not visible from this side of the mountain.’

The Mafia Don was beside her in a flash, looming over her shoulder, eyes latched on the screen. Schwartz came in and stood behind him, squinting over his shoulder.

“Hell, that’s like way above!” he cried in dismay.

“Got a problem?” snapped Lucien, straightening and fixing his second in command with a cold glare.

Hastily, Schwartz shook his head, winking at Aiyana as he met her eyes when the Mafia Don moved away authoritatively.

“Come on, boys, let’s move,” he began to pull on his coat again, heading for the door as Schwartz tailed him like a sad puppy.

The men who were with them stood, hands behind them, silent and waiting to follow orders. They would have followed him into the fires of Hell, thought Aiyana drily.

“I am coming too…” began Aiyana getting to her feet mutinously, but Lucien stopped her with an imperative gesture.

Raising his hand, he snapped, “Someone needs to be here to monitor everything.”

And as he strode out, he called out,

“I am leaving two of the men here for you.”

She glowered at him but did not say anything more. She had already discovered how inflexible the Boss was. Proserpina was a living saint to put up with his insufferable beast, she fumed. The man was a chauvinist, plain and simple.

Schwartz smiled at her apologetically, and then they were out of the room, and she heard their heavy footsteps retreating, followed by the slamming of the door as they left. Aiyana touched her gun and frowned.

“Damn the man.” she thought angrily and turned to her open laptop again.

But deep in her heart, she was glad. She did not envy them. There was a blizzard coming on and it was going to be hazardous to be on the mountains, climbing uphill in this weather.

***

The mountains were sheer, a steep climb upwards. The intense cold made it difficult to climb. On the one side, at the bottom of the gorge, they could hear the sound of the water as it gushed along from the higher altitudes. Schwartz was not passionate about heights and he felt a stray thought shot across his mind; what would it be like to fall onto those dangerous-looking rocks that stood, protruding from the water?

Lucien climbed gamely, and for a man of his age, he kept up with the younger Simmons and Ngoc easily.

“The Boss is indefatigable!” thought Schwartz in awe as he stopped to get back his breath. Some of the men had also slowed down, unable to keep up with the punishing pace Lucien had set.

Suddenly, they emerged onto a small plateau, if the tiny flat space could be called that.

And then, they spotted the house, a tiny chalet, almost indistinguishable from the surrounding trees as they reached a small plateau. Hugging the mountainside, it seemed to have been carved out of the cliff.Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

An area had been cleared to create a mini helipad of sorts, but that was all. Tall trees surrounded the house, shielding it from view and it was only sharp-eyed Simmons who had noticed it. There was no sign of activity around the house, and no smoke rising from the chimney. Only the tyre marks on the snow, fresh ones, indicated that the place was inhabited.

So this was Dmitri Rudenko’s final hideout, thought Lucien grimly.

And he had come here, accompanied by a handful of men, all armed to the teeth according to the reports Aiyana had received.

The evil rogue was preparing to put up one last desperate fight.

Lucien stood, the cold swirling around him, glowering into the distance.

This was going to be the final round, he thought coldly.

And HE, Lucien was going to fight to win.