Out of all the days for the A/C to die, it had to be on their last gig.
Anthony, the alleged leader of the group, struggled with the cooling unit one last time before he smacked it in defeat. The oak brown 72’ Lincoln Continental Town Car was not a top-of-the-line model anymore, but it got the three gang members of the Royce Club from point A to point B. Much like the older car, Anthony “Ant” Favero felt like he was on his last legs. Despite being at the age of twenty-six, he felt like a dawdling old man. He was Earthborn with medium-width chestnut hair and a small patch of facial hair on his chin.
Despite his nickname, he was at a towering 6’3 build wearing a gray crew cut t-shirt and black dress pants. The reason why their capo assigned him leader of their crew was because of his experience in the Pilgrim War. Having been a frontline medic, Anthony could make the right decision under pressure no matter how dangerous the situation. After the war, he settled becoming a nurse but was financially unable to keep himself stable. To keep himself afloat unlikely the other homeless vets, he joined the mafia on Earth as grunt. Anthony was good at helping people but hurting others came natural to him. His plan was to make enough money to head to Mars away from the mafia life to start anew. However, no matter what planet it was, Anthony’s money troubles led him back to the mafia like an addict.
His role on one of Mars’s starting mafia families was a soldier of The Royce Club. Soldier was a fancy way of saying grunt because he took care of the basics like extortion or making sure deals did not go South. The Royce Club was responsible for most of the organized crime like racketeering, prostitution and illegal organ trafficking to name a few. Even though he was a “leader” for his crew of soldiers, they could not afford to give him an updated car.
“Damn thing quit out on us,” Anthony declared.
“Oh, what a surprise. Who would’ve guessed that a bucket like this had the A/C unit die on us? Again.”
The remark belonged to the younger looking man in the backseat by the name of Sammy Caggiano. The youngest of the trio was on the slim side with a strong chin and a mean look. He wore a white bowling shirt with striped, orange pants and donned short black hair. The other two of the party never passed up a chance to call him a fake old school gangster but Sammy did not seem to mind. Sammy’s job was to be the muscle of the group and looking pretty was not in the job description.
“Aw c’mon, Sammy. Don’t start giving me shit about Marcy now. You’ll hurt her feelings,” Anthony stated before gently rubbing the dashboard.
Sammy reared his head back and said, “Ant I told you a million times that naming things were bad luck. You get too attached and it makes ya sloppy.”
“And I’ve told you a billion times that your out of style pants make you look like a clown.”
Just as the two finished their bit, the passenger door flung open and a heavy-set man with a large brown paper bag plopped down in the seat.
“Jesus, Bell!” Ant said, “That’s the fastest I’ve ever seen you move!”
“You expect me to take a slow, brisk walk or sumethin’? I’m sweating my goddamn ass hairs off out there. Now do you want your damn sandwich or not?”
Bell “Hawk” Lafazia was a heavy-set Italian who use to be muscle back on Earth before a rival gang gave him some new holes. After a two-month long hospital stay, he wrestled with retirement before concluding that he wanted back into the fray. When he did return to gang life, he mostly worked in scouting out the job than handling it like on Earth.
His observational and information gathering skills were top notch for a middle-aged goon. He could spot a fly in a hurricane or when some debt-ridden scum was lying about not having payment. Aside from his nickname, “Hawk” he was also referred in the Royce Club as “The Sitter”. A name he loathed due to his association with the two younger members of their crew. The heavier man wore an orange opened dress shirt with a white t-shirt underneath and a set of tan khakis. He also sported a tilted beige fedora hat to cover his rapidly balding head considering he was the oldest of the group.
“Yo, Bell. Can I get my sub back here?” Sammy said from the back.
“Yeah, sure kid. And a club sandwich fer you, Ant.” Bell reached into the bag and disrupted the sandwich’s before taking out a handkerchief from this left breast pocket to wipe the sweat from his brow. “Fer crying out loud, Ant. Ain’t you gonna turn on the damn A/C?”
“It’s busted.” Ant said between bites of his sandwich. “Gotta take it back to the shop, again.”
“So we’re just supposed to cook in this scrap heap till then?”
Sammy chimed in from the back, “I guess that Hawk nickname is good for something after all.” Both younger men chuckled as Bell simply grumbled and bit into his own sandwich. The three men were parked across a local sandwich spot in a near empty parking lot. It was on the backstreets of the alleyway which was away from the busy strip. During this time in the afternoon, all the outer settlement tourists were busy gawking at the different Mars shops and attractions. This was Red New York after all. The biggest settlement on the planet capable of housing 3.9 Million residents and counting in it is Biodome.
There were other settlements across the red planet, but Red New York was a pivotal landmark considering it was the first. In the year 2056, Earth was in desperate need of a new energy source. Having tapped out on most natural energy resources, Earth’s last shot was to confide in outer space. Thankfully, Earth did not have to look far considering the research conducted on Mars found a way to incorporate geothermal energy into a resource to sustain life on Mars. Top scientists from all over Earth were able to apply a life support system that was capable of housing livable conditions in sustainable Biodomes. With the Earth set on a goal to preserve human life, the Mars Project was set to take five years of development to establish colonies on the planet Mars.
However, during that five-year development, North America was facing violent conflict of their own. In the United States, a civil war had unleashed as it was discovered that the upper class would take priority in space travel before the general population. Outrage from the low to middle classes sparked a conflict that was fought on American soil for the right to access space travel. Large corporations implored the government for assistance yet was met with no aid due to the focus on the Mars Project. Thus, resulting in the high class and corporations to purchase the help of mercenaries and ex-military. This was done to prevent the lower classes from taking their opportunity to flee the dying planet ahead of the one percent. In retaliation, the lower and middle class formed The Low-Class Fighters to sabotage corporation agendas through urban guerrilla warfare.
The resulting war was coined the Space Pilgrim War. Other countries dealt with their own conflicts different yet North America was one of the few nations to engage in civil war. As tempers flared during the Pilgrim War, it all came to an end due to an unfortunate act of terrorism. In the year 2060, a hired mercenary group named The Crimson Sons had acquired a bomb of atomic nature to wipe out the main Low-Class Fighters headquarters in the state of New York. The intent was to eviscerate everything within a one or two-mile radius per instructions of a shadowy corporation that had hired The Crimson Sons. However, unbeknownst to The Crimson Sons, the group had dropped an enhanced hydrogen bomb that had wiped out 75% of New York in a five-mile radius. The resulting tragedy had called a cease fire from both sides. Finally, with the Pilgrim War ending days after the bombing, a new government legislative act was passed. The 2060 Pilgrim Act declared that all citizens were entitled to space travel as long they carried the proper documentation for passage. This act eased the tensions in North America and finally established peace in time for the Mars Project to conclude the following year. 2061 saw the arrival of the first settlement on Mars thanks to its geothermal Biodome system. The settlement was named Red New York in honor of that tragic event the past year.
The parked trio had finished their sandwiches and were beginning to pull off when they had spotted a homeless man searching through the dumpster. He was further down the alley searching in the trash cans of a local fast-food spot.
“Jesus, that’s sad,” Sammy said acknowledging the vagrant.
“Course it’s sad,” Bell started, “poor bastard probably don’t have the luxury to get a meal. Aye, Ant. Pull up to the side of this guy, will ya.”
Ant did as he was told and started the car. The vagrant was on the passenger’s side of the car and was digging away before he had noticed the 72’ Continental.
Bell spoke up and said, “Aye, pal. Why don’t you get you a real meal, my treat.” The older man pulled out his brown leather wallet and took out 15 credits worth of money. The homeless man ambled his way towards the passenger side of the car . Upon closer inspection, the man had a small blue patch on his dress shirt that had The Low-Class Fighters logo on his chest.
“Thank you. I-“
“Whoa there, friend. I didn’t know I was talkin to a vet,” Bell stated.
The homeless man froze up and looked as though he was ready to bolt. Instead, he said, “Is that a problem, mister?”
“Not at all. In fact,” Bell reached into his pocket and pulled out five more credits, “take this fer your hard work. Get you something real nice.”
The other man gave a wide smile and said, “God bless you.”
Bell handed the money over to the drifter and waved before Ant pulled out to the main road.
“That was nice of ya, Bell,” Ant said.
“Yeah, real charity work you’re doing there, Hawk. Makes me think you’re getting soft in your old age,” Sammy inputted.
“Nah. Think of it more as a good charm. We’ll need all the good karma we can get due to our last fuck up,” Bell finished.
“Oh really? Cause if I remember correctly, you’re the one who was doing most of the fucking up.”
“Oh bullshit, Sammy. I ain’t the one who beat the mark to death now am I?”
“C’mon fellas,” Ant said, “let’s not start blaming each other again.”
Sammy ignored Ant’s warning and started again. “And so what? Fucker had it coming for being one of those piece of shit mercs. Besides, I’m talking about how you fucked up giving us the right info.”
“Not the right info?” Bell turned to look at Sammy before continuing, “You’re a dumb fuck you know that? The job was to sneak in and kidnap the mark. Not run through the entire spot like some sorta action hero. You attracted all that attention ya damn self. You even almost got Ant killed because you couldn’t watch that moronic temper of yers!”
Sammy sat up and shouted back, “Why do you think I was so hot that day, huh? You should have told me we were dealing with some Crimson Son dickhead. You really expect me to kidnap a son of a bitch like that? After what they did!?”
“Both of you cut it the fuck out!” Ant yelled as he slammed on the brakes at a red light. “Like I said, we all shouldn’t start blaming each other after that job. We all fucked up. You, me, even Sammy. What we gotta do know is finish this job and make sure we don’t do it again. Or do I need to remind you two of what the boss will do if we come back empty handed.”
The car grew silent as Bell and Sammy could clearly recall the boss’s known cruelty.
“Look here, you two. What happened last time is done and we gotta focus on this gig here. If we don’t, we ain’t gonna have another chance to do as well please.” He waited to make sure he had both Bell and Sammy on the same page. When it looked like neither would protest, Anthony began driving when the light went green. “Bell, rundown what we have to do.”
Bell blew some air threw his mouth and started, “Ain’t much to go over, Ant. The mark is an alley doctor off 35th street who does some damn good medical work. Owns a spot called Cherry Clinic that fixes lucrative people without insurance. A little problem with that is that it’s said he’s also doing heart trafficking jus’ like us.”
“How’d you even get that info, Hawk?” Sammy asked.
“Did some leg work last week and talked to some street walkers. Doc’s got a bad case of doing good cause he fixed one of the working girl’s heart. I could hear her blabbin’ all the way from across the street,” Bell finished with a chuckle.
“Right,” Ant continued, “so we head to the clinic on 35th and convince the bum to quit exploring on discovered land.”
“Or we could just fucking shoot em’.” Sammy tapped the window and said, “Boss said dead or alive and what not.”
Bell shook his head and said, “Christ, where’s your professionalism Sammy? We don’t even know if this guy is some rival schumck or a potential business partner. I say we go over there a strike a deal.” Bell turned his head to eye Ant and said, “The Doc keeps doing his saint work helping the whores and addicts and we got a healthy percentage from his work. I mean, that’s the least we can do from letting him live.”
“I like that idea.” Anthony nodded, “We’ll see if we can talk some sense to him at least. If we can make up for the money lost and maybe even get an extra doctor to the gang, then Boss will have no choice but to overlook our mistake.” Sammy blew a sharp breath through his nose and focused on the window. “Yeah, whatever. We’ll try that diplomat shit. But as soon as I smell something funny, I’m putting the fucker down.”
The rest of the ride was met with silence as the crew reached their destination in half an hour. The trio were parked in front of an old red building that aged into a dull pink shade. The location of the clinic was located between a mechanic shop and liquor store and appropriately named the Cherry Clinic. It stood at three stories high and was the tallest spot on the rundown strip that sported worn out roads and worn-out people. It was hard to tell the difference whether the building was practicing medicine or admitting insane people.
Ant was the first out the car making his way to the door and entering the clinic. Although the timestamps on the door clearly stated that the private clinic closed thirty minutes ago, business was business. The rest of the crew made their way into the lobby with one couch, two small sofas on the opposite side and outdated magazines on the glass table in the middle. There was a sturdy wooden desk in the right-hand corner that should have housed a receptionist along with a door behind the desk leading to another room. There was also a larger door to the left of the desk that likely led to the examination rooms.
“I don’t think our doctor friend is here, Ant,” Bell noted.
Ant nodded and asked, “Maybe he kicked off and went home?”
“Unlikely. The mark lives on the third floor of this dump.”
It would certainly make it cheaper living, Anthony thought to himself. “Alright, get a feel for the place. Bell, I want you to check the examination rooms in the back. I also want you to check if he has a back door so that he can’t slip away from us. Sammy, go to the door behind the receptionist desk to see what’s in there. Maybe we can use some leverage when we meet the guy.”
Sammy made his way to the door and asked, “And what about you?”
“Gonna check the desk to make sure he doesn’t have the cops interrupt us.”
Bell made his way through the examination door with ease while Sammy’s door was locked from the outside. Thankfully, one strong boot to the ancient lock gained the young muscle entry into the dark office. Anthony started his own examination of the oak desk and found the panic button he was looking for. Surprisingly, the button in question was missing the mechanism to push to alert the cops. What was stranger was a black M1911 pistol strapped to the underside of the desk. What kind of clinic carried guns? Anthony wondered. Then again, in a neighborhood like this, it would be dumb not to carry a piece.
Anthony took the strap and placed the gun behind him underneath his pants waistband. He switched gears towards the three drawers on the left of the desk. Each one was unlocked, and the first two drawers carried general medical information like past appointments or completed appointments. The third drawer was locked yet Anthony was able to find the key by digging through the first drawer. After opening the third drawer, he found a clip of ammo for the gun and a peculiar patch that appeared like it was torn from an old jacket.
Anthony brought the patch to his eye level and saw a red hexagon with two fade letters in the center. The first letter made out a C, yet the other letter was damaged with a tear cutting off the second letter entirely. The only part visible was a curve at the top of the arc that could have formed an O, Q or even an R. His best guess was an old badge that the doctor must have gotten rid of on a used doctor’s coat. But it felt deeper than that. Anthony felt that he had seen this patch before. Not on this red rock but back home, back on Earth.
“And what the fuck do you think you’re doing back there?”
Anthony shot up so fast that he forgot the desk above him. After rubbing his head, he looked up and saw their mark standing at the door holding a brown paper bag full of groceries. He wore a gray lab coat that matched his equally gray bread and short gray hair. The man was as tall as Ant and if he was supposed to be a doctor then Ant might as well have been a schoolteacher. He had and old facial scar from under his right eye to the bridge of his nose. His steely gaze held two brown eyes that could look through a person like they were made from plastic.
Anthony silently cursed and stood, “Good to see you, Doc. You don’t know me, but I got business with you.”
The doctor made a dissatisfied noise and said, “That doesn’t answer my question, boy. I asked what the fuck are you doing in my clinic.”
“I hear ya. I’ll get to it then, Bell!” Anthony stood to his full height and waited for Bell to make his way back to the main lobby. When the older man did show, he almost questioned why Ant had called him but saw the Doctor near the doorway. Having grasped the situation, he made his way around the desk next to Anthony’s left.
“We’re with the Royce Club. Heard you were doing charity work at this clinic of yours that our boss ain’t too thrilled about.”
“Your boss got a problem with medical aid to the public? I knew you wanna be mafia punks were sick, but this is sad,” the Doctor said while making a show of shaking his head in disappointment.
“Aye listen here, prick,” Bell started as he raised his finger, “we know what’s goin’ down at this clinic. You ain’t exactly running a legitimate practice here.”
The Doctor raised an indifferent eyebrow at the statement, “Ain’t got a clue what you mean.”
Anthony was beginning to lose patience but kept his cool. “The heart trafficking, numbnuts. We caught wind of your little side hustle and came to give you an ultimatum. Either you quit or you give the profits to the good men at The Royce Club to keep your practice afloat. We’re reasonable men,” Anthony made a show of tapping Bell’s shoulder with the back of his hand, “sixty percent sounds like a good start to our partnership.”
The Doctor took a moment to let the offer hang in the air and gave a deep chuckle. “Here’s a better idea, you get zero percent and fuck off.”
Anthony glanced at Bell with an annoyed look to see if they were on the same page. Bell nodded his head a few times almost to say, get rough with him then.
“Alright,” Anthony raised his voice, “then the three of us are gonna have a talk.”
At first, there was no movement from the back office. Sammy missing his que almost concerned Ant until the younger man slowly exited from the room.
“Motherfucker…” Sammy muttered while holding something in his hand.
“Sammy what the fuck are you doing?” Bell shouted as Sammy just stood there, “You’re making look Ant bad.”
“Piece of shit,” was Sammy’s only response. His full attention was focused on the object in his hand. From the look on his face, Sammy was shaking with rage.
Anthony had seen this behavior before and took his eyes off the doctor to address Sammy. “Sam, what the fuck are you on about? What’s got you heated?”
“This bullshit, Ant!” Sammy threw the object between the other two as it landed at their feet.
Anthony looked down and was completely frozen. It was the same badge with the hexagon symbol that he found earlier. Only this time he could see the second letter as clear as dead. The initals read CS. No doubt that the mark in front of them was a Crimson Son.
Anthony was the first to speak up. “Sammy, listen, we can talk to em’.” However, he was far too late as Sammy had already drawn his red handled .357 magnum.
“Not a fucking chance. After what these fuckers did!?”
Bell had his mouth opened in surprised and finally addressed the doctor in front of them. “How the hell can a Crimson Son be here on Mars.”
The Doctor scoffed ignoring that there was a gun aimed at him. “That’s a dumb question don’t you think? A lot of people from Earth came to Mars looking to get away from that hellhole. Or did you somehow forget?”
“Yeah but you ain’t people, asshole.” Sammy also made his way around the receptionist desk and stood behind Anthony on the right with his gun still aimed on the Doctor. “You sons of bitches don’t even get to be human anymore. You’re goddamn monsters!”
“Sammy, please,” Ant started, “I know what they did to you but don’t start.”
The statement only seemed to make Sammy irater as he grew louder. “And why the fuck not Ant!? Why the fuck shouldn’t I start after how these assholes wiped out New York.”
The Doctor clicked his tongue as if to get finally piece together why the grunt was making so much noise about his past. He did not say anything and continued to listen as he slowly shifted his hands to the bottom of his grocery bag.
Bell spoke again and said, “Sammy you gotta play this one smart, alright? You can’t just go killing off every Crimson Son just cause they exist. Let’s get the info we need and then you can do whatever the fuck you want.”
“No. No, no, no. I this motherfucker is gonna end up dead and I’m gonna make sure of it.” Sammy cocked the hammer on his revolver and took better aim of the Doctor.
Just as Anthony was about to protest, the brown bag of groceries came flying past his head. The Doctor found his mark as the produce and other content contacted Sammy’s face. The impact caused the unsuspecting solider to shoot into the air as he fell backwards. With surprising speed, the Doctor made a dash towards Anthony and Bell before either of them could reach for their guns. He delivered a right inner knee kick to Bell which downed the older man instantly. Using the momentum to his advantage, he spun counterclockwise to take out Anthony with a spinning back fist. Anthony blocked the incoming blow at the last minute and threw a right punch of his own. He was met with air as the Doctor ducked the move and locked his arms around Anthony’s waist. In one swift lifting motion, the taller man hoisted Anthony off his feet and body slammed the leader into the small glass table.
The weight of the heavier man and impact of the glass table sent a sharp shooting pain up Anthony’s back. All he could see was white spots as his vision shook before he was pummeled on the nose with a heavy right. The Doctor hit him a second time before a shot rang out. The bullet collided with the wall behind the sofa which prompted the Doctor to look behind him. Sammy had regained his footing and sent another shot that grazed the man’s upper shoulder. Grunting in pain, the Doctor pushed off Anthony’s body and sprinted through the examination door just as a third shot met the concrete wall.
“Get back here you motherless shit!” Sammy screamed as he pursued the Doctor through the doors.
“Sonofabitch got my bad knee. Fuck!” Anthony’s vision was foggy at best but even he heard Bell groaning beside him. The younger man rolled over to stop his head from pounding while Bell continued. “Bastard’s tougher than we thought, I’ll give him that. But the fucker’s outgunned and he ain’t got no place to go.”
Anthony spat out a wad of blood that pooled in his mouth and said, “There ain’t a back door?”
“Nah. It’s locked up and down with pad locks of all kinds. The only way for him to go is up.”
The third story. The other two buildings next to the clinic were one story at best. Meaning that if the Doctor was a man of faith, he had better start praying that his legs could handle the jump.
“I’m going after him.” Anthony stood and pulled out his own .357 before looking at Bell who was still on the floor. “Any day now, Bell.”
The seasoned goon made a noise and said, “Ain’t springy like you two young bucks. Fucker did a number on my knee. Trust me, you’d be better of making your way to the roof before helping this old man up.”
“Christ almighty, Bell. Fine, I’m going then.”
Just as Anthony turned to head in the same direction as the other two, Bell called out, “Hold on, Ant! You got an extra piece on ya? Forgot got mine in the car.”
Anthony remembered the black M1911 and pulled it from the back of his pants to hand to Bell. “That old age is starting to show, Bell.”
“Will you quit nagging me and go after that idiot? Is this thing even loaded?”
“Third drawer,” Anthony says as he pointed towards the desk and runs through the examination draws and up the stairs.
Sammy and the Crimson Son doctor made a trail of open doors and scattered debris that led to the rooftop above. The rooftop door itself was wide open and invited the fading sun into the doorway as Anthony passed through. On the roof itself, both men were engaged combat with the Doctor losing ground.
Although the Doctor was more experienced, Sammy’s toughness was hard to overcome as he tanked a body blow that would drop a normal guy. Instead of falling, Sammy threw a left hook that nicked his opponent’s chin that made him stumble. The Doctor gave one last uppercut to catch Sammy from below but missed his marked. Sammy took the whiffed punch as an opportunity to circle around the Crimson Son before locking him in a chokehold. The Doctor thrashed to shake the hold but had no luck shaking off the stronger man. He resorted to digging his fingers into Sammy’s forearms but found that the younger man was not relenting.
“That’s it, you motherfucker.” Sammy cracked a sinister smile while tightening his hold. “Once you go down, I’m gonna take my time getting all the information I need. I ain’t gonna stop till I put all you Crimson Son’s underground.”
“Fu.. uu..c,” the Doctor tried to retort while having his throat pressed.
“Nah, forget all that. The you can talk later. More like screaming with the stuff I got planned for you.”
From Anthony’s perspective, the Crimson Son’s grip was weakening on Sammy’s arm along with his eyes fighting to prevent them from rolling upwards.
“…. why?” the Doctor croaked out.
The question itself momentarily stopped Sammy’s hold. A wave of confusion passed over his face before it twisted in fury. “You got some balls, Doc. Last guy didn’t ask why, he only started begging for his life. Crying as I kept flattening his fucking face.”
“He’s buying for time, Sammy,” Ant spoke up.
“I don’t give a shit, Ant! Ain’t like none of his crimson rat buddies gonna come and save his sorry ass. Oh, I’ll tell you alright.” Sammy repositions himself next to the Doctor’s ear. Sammy started speaking so slow that even Anthony had to strain to hear what the enforcer was saying. “Think long and hard about what you fuckers did back on Earth. The kind of shit you pulled with your car bombs or planned shootings like it was your nine to five. Made everyone on my old block worried while I was away in Florida.”
Sammy grimaced before continuing, the chokehold not as intense as before. “Then you guys go and pull that shit with the bomb. Couldn’t believe it while I was driving back to New York. Interrupted my music with a live broadcast of how Brooklyn is wiped out in some atomic blast. Imagine my surprise when I get back to my block, man.” The Doctor felt a damp spot on his shoulder while Anthony was surprised to find Sammy crying. “My entire block… Gone in a fucking crater! I couldn’t even look at my old building cause of that radiation bullshit! But when I did get there,” Sammy stifled a cry before continuing, “they were gone too. My Ma, uncles, and the rest of my family! All 32 members of the Caggiano family gone!”
For a moment, Sammy searched the sky as he was lost in his outburst. He searched the sky as if he could see his extended family resting in the clouds. But he found nothing but the lingering skyline.
“That’s why,” Sammy started as he began strangling the Doctor again, “I’m gonna hunt all you mercenary fucks down on this red rock and make you pay. Gonna make you wish you fuckers never came to my city.”
At this point, Anthony knew it was best to stay out of Sammy’s way. Thinking upon it further, they would succeed in their mission to dropping their mark. Dead or alive was the requirement after all. It would get the three crews’ members back into good graces with the boss and they would not have to worry about watching their asses twenty-four seven. Something that did not sit right with Anthony though was how the Doctor had stalled like that. What would a dead guy gain from asking why he was being taken care of?
A huff of air surprised Anthony as he whirled around to see Bell at the entrance of the doorframe. Bell was hunched over catching his breath from his three-story climb. “Maybe that doc needs to invest in an elevator or some shit. My knee’s killing me.”
Anthony sighed in relief and said, “Maybe the exercise could be good for all of us, Bell. We’ve been eating like this old school gangsters with all the carbs.”
Bell made his way to Anthony’s right side after adjusting his hat. “You a nurse or something? Talking about carbs like I give a rat’s ass.” He made a gesture to Sammy’s asphyxiation display and called out, “What’s this all about?”
Anthony shrugged, “You know how Sammy gets with the Crimson Sons. He’s gonna choke him out then take him back to the hideout to squeeze him of some info. If we’re lucky, we can find out who this asshole’s working with. You got any clue which rivals we got that could be making moves with this chump?”
Bell rubbed his chin for a bit as if to ponder his next words. “Yeah, I think I can save us some time.”
Bell carefully pulled out the black M1911 from his left side and casually fired into Anthony’s midsection. The sound itself betrayed the red setting sun as the other three men had their eyes on Bell. At first, Anthony did not react, but his body became increasingly aware of the sharp pain causing him to collapse. With Ant dropping to the floor, Sammy completely released his hold on the Doctor as the other man fell to the ground. Just as Sammy began fishing for his own gun, Bell aimed the gun at Sammy and sent five shots to the enforcer’s upper body. Sammy stumbled backwards from the shots as he teetered the roof’s edge and looked up in disbelief at his executioner. Bell’s expression was stone as he pulled the trigger that punched a hole in Sammy’s cheek. Sammy went wide eyed at first before his eyes slowly gave into the damage as he fell backwards into the alleyway below.
Anthony’s eyes were stuck in a squint as he tried to concentrate on making the pain going away. He did have time to see Bell’s shoes move forward out of his field of vision. It was a difficult task to push his weight from his left side just to sit up. Judging from the area, Anthony guessed that the bullet landed above his diaphragm and right in the middle of his left lung. He settled for lying on his back and propping himself up on his elbows to see where Bell was.
The old mobster offered a hand to the Doctor while he was busy rubbing his throat. “Sorry about the wait, pal. That kick did a number on my joints. Thought I told you to go easy on me.”
The Doctor looked at Bell and was annoyed by the gesture. He lifted himself off the floor and stretched his neck for a few seconds. “And I told you to make your way up those stairs as soon as that one,” he pointed at Anthony, “gave you the gun.”
“Had to get the ammo from the drawer after Ant gave me your gun. Look, it is no big deal. We’re both healthy and can move on with our business. You got the hearts ready for me?”
The Doctor took a moment to look at Bell and then at the gun. Bell sensed his eyes heading in that direction and chuckled before putting the gun behind his waistband. “Sure, I got your supply. You already talked it our with your superiors on the deal?”
“Course I did. I worked up a deal with our capo to get your trafficking operation under our belt. This makes him look good which makes me look great. Hell, with your supply being this entire building of hearts, the boss just might promote me to capo too.”
“Mm-hm, good for you. That also means you can get me my damn money too.”
Bell chuckled and said, “I ain’t one to break deals now. ”I get you your money and we can stay in business to keep you living comfy for a good, long time.” Bell heard Anthony cough up blood from his downed position. “Excuse me a sec. Mind getting those hearts in the Lincoln out front?”
The Doctor gave a side eye look to Bell before making his way past Anthony and down the stairs. Bell took his time to make his way over to Anthony.
“It really is a shame, kid,” Bell said as he squatted to Anthony’s level, “You should have kept at it with the nurse bit when you got to this red rock. You could have done some good, maybe get a discount cause you were a vet and all. Plus yer wicked smart so you could have gone farther than the rest of these goons. It’s just,” Bell took a moment to look at the now dark skyline before speaking, “I can’t stand being dragged down by you young’uns. 32 years in the game and I ain’t get nowhere. Killing punks from Jersey to Rhode Island, kissing every capo’s ass to make sure they felt respected. And then when I almost bite it, I get nothin’. No recognition, no party, nothing. Just stuck babysitting you young guys to either get farther than me or kick ta’ bucket.”
Bell stood up and began pacing back and forth before pulling the gun out his waistband. “So I had to play it smart, Ant. I knew this job was the last thing I’d do if you two fucked it up for me. And there was no way I was gonna go out like that with nothing to show for it.” He stopped at Bell’s side and looked down at him with a hint of remorse. “I’d wish I could have involved someone else to take the fall on this, Ant. I really do. I just couldn’t let you two get the credit for this one and leave me behind. I didn’t have any choice but to resort to this. And I’m sorry for that, Ant. You understand where I’m coming from, don’tcha?”
Anthony could feel his conscious fading from the internal bleeding. Yet he took the time to look at Bell to see that the man was guilt ridden over this decision. He was like a boy who had to put down his beloved dog in the family’s backyard. The only difference is that he had no trouble putting down his other dog five times over.
It was all tiresome, really. After the war, Anthony should have tried to give the honest life a try. Work two or three jobs to support his education or find a program for vets like himself. With his sound mind and impressive decision making, he could have had a successful nursing career on Mars. Anthony should have lived as a nurse, but he was dying as a mafia grunt. It would have been a heartbreaker if it were not so common in their line of work.
Anthony finished his reflection and looked at Bell one last time. “Hey, Bell. Do me a favor. Put a bullet right between my eyes so I don’t have to listen to you bitchin’ anymore.”
Bell did not move for a moment but took the time to smile when he registered Ant’s final request. Before fading for good, Ant wished that he blacked out sooner before seeing that damn smile.
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