?What was that all about?? Vincent asked.
?Jesus. Can you believe this guy?? Billy asked his goons.
The goons laughed on cue, shook their heads.
Billy put a giant hand on Vincent?s shoulder. ?Look. Your dad?s trusting me to keep you in one piece. You want somebody to sneak in here with a poison pizza? Or maybe there ain?t no pizza in the box at all. Maybe it?s Smith & Wesson, then you come to the door to see about this pizza and this motherfucker blows your goddamn head off.?
Vincent was pretty sure he?d smelled sausage and mushrooms, not Smith & Wesson, but he wisely said nothing.
?Look,? Billy told him, ?you go back to your pasta and leave it all to me, okay? I got ten of my best boys in here, so nobody?s going to get at you as long as we stay smart and keep both eyes open. We got our people out there right now getting to the bottom of this shit. We?re going to find that cocksucker that killed Juice Luciano and remind everybody that there are some people in this world you just do not fuck with.?
Vincent nodded. ?Okay, Billy. Thanks.?
Billy slapped him lightly on the cheek. ?Hey, you?re a good kid. You?ll be fine.?
And Vincent actually did feel better. Big Billy was right. It was this other guy who should be worried. Who the fuck did he think he was, messing with people like Juice Luciano and Big Billy Romano? Vincent almost felt sorry for him, whoever he was. The guy was fucking toast.
Vincent went back to his meal, surrendered himself to the soothing qualities of Chianti, garlic, and marinara.
9
Nikki Enders had seen enough. And she?d heard enough too. She sat in the rented Town Car across the street from Billy Romano?s building, watching the front door through a small but powerful set of binoculars and listening with the handheld ?Big Ear? dish she had pointed at the front door. She?d seen most and heard all of Billy?s encounter with the pizza boy.
The rough treatment and frisking the pizza boy got all but announced that Vincent Minelli was holed up at Billy?s place, as Nikki had suspected. Then Romano had stupidly called Vincent to the front door to take a look at the pizza boy. Why not just push Vincent out into the street with a bull?s-eye on his chest?
If Romano really expected to protect the kid, he should have him on the second floor. It was a three-story building. She?d have put men on the first floor, then more men on the third floor and on the roof, keeping Vincent Minelli in a locked room in the middle.
But Nikki wasn?t there to give Romano pointers. She was there to kill Vincent Minelli and anyone else who got in the way. She checked her weapons.
She?d moved the Beretta to a clip-on holster at the small of her back. The Glocks hung from shoulder holsters beneath a light suit jacket, the spare clips fitting snugly into interior jacket pockets she?d sewn herself. She also had a British Commando knife in a sheath on her right calf.
The math bothered her a little. Two men on the door, another eight spread around the building, plus Billy Romano and Vincent Minelli. But she couldn?t wait. After five, the place would fill up with wiseguys stopping in for a quick drink or to play cards or dominos or to do business with Romano. So it had to be now.
She formed and rejected several elaborate schemes to enter the building and find Vincent. She considered rappelling from a taller, adjacent building and dropping onto the roof of Romano?s club. She?d need access to the building next door, rope, grappling equipment, special boots, and?
She got out of the car and walked straight to the front door and knocked. One of the bruisers opened it halfway, looked down at her. ?What do you??
He never finished the sentence. Nikki?s hand lashed out, her fist flattening the guy?s nose. She felt it pop, blood and snot flowing down over his lips. He screamed, both hands going to his face. She kicked him in the gut, and he fell back. She followed him in, moving like a leopard.
The other goon was already coming out of his chair, a big automatic flashing in his hand. She dropped into a crouch, swept his legs from under him. He upended, landed on his back, the air
She sprang back to her feet, knocked the guy cold with a bootheel to the head.
