The Circle of Wounded Souls, The Circle of Survivors: The Circle of Wounded Souls, #3

By Jim Ricca

In this book, Richards loses all hope of ever seeing his beloved family again, but inadvertently rescues them through an incredible twist of fate and an extremely violent attack on his sworn enemy. As an act of devotion to his late wife he then goes on to build an empire. His future foretold by the Blessed Virgin Mary, Richards concentrates on raising his motherless daughter, in spite of bloody battles with the Mafia, terrorists and street thugs.

Like the previous books in the series, this one will surprise you with completely unexpected events, and take you where you would least expect it to.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jim Ricca
• Release date: Jun 6, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476244129

Jim Ricca

Jim was born and raised in Philadelphia, and lived there until drafted into the Army in 1971. He served a total of 18 years between the active Army and reserves as a Military Policeman, Artillery forward observer and in the Mechanized Infantry. He attended college on the GI bill and earned a B.A. in Political Science, International Relations from LaSalle University. He held middle and senior level management positions in the transportation, printing/publishing industries and plastics manufacturing field. Jim also served several years as a Special Agent/Special Investigator for a Federal agency. Jim is the author of the four book, Circle of Wounded Souls series, in addition to, Legacies; an American Journey, Hunting and Hunted in Alaska, The four book Alien's Reward series with Journey to Another Earth. In addition to, Der Schatten Teufel, The Shadow Devil, and Running Down Terror has been released along with: The Replacement Priest, and Escape from the Asylum. Jim resides in Maryland's Eastern Shore where he divides his time between writing and fishing the Chesapeake Bay and surf fishing along the shore..

Book preview

The Circle of Wounded Souls

The Circle of Survivors

Book Three

This is the continuing story of how four people joined together to overcome the deep emotional wounds of abuse, war, rape, and personal loss by sharing their unconditional love and trusting their fate to the Divine powers.

By

Jim Ricca

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Jim Ricca

Smashword Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

This book is available in print at most online retailers

Discover other titles by Jim Ricca on Smashwords.com

The Circle of Wounded Souls, Book One

The Circle of Wounded Souls, Book Two

The Circle of Wounded Souls, The Broken Circle, Book Four

Legacies: an American Journey

Kathryn’s Summer

The Alien's Reward

The Alien's Reward II, The Alliance

PREFACE

Book three The Circle of Survivors, continues the adventures of The Circle of Wounded Souls series. Jim has surrendered himself to the fact that he has lost his entire family in a horrific traffic accident. His brother Bob, who lost his wife in the same wreck, is dealing with his loss somewhat better than his brother.

Life goes on, however much Jim wishes his didn’t, and after an incredible turn of events, he devotes his full attention to growing his late wife’s legacy into a powerful business empire. But unlike many who amass a fortune, he never forgets his poverty stricken youth.

This book’s story spans the 80s, a time when the government turned to helping the rich at the expense of the working class and poor. A typical example of this inverted policy is exemplified by the republican-led congress forcing the FDA to declare Ketchup a vegetable. Another example is when they decided to grant huge tax breaks to the rich and powerful, with their incredibly corrupt and brutal theory of Trickle-Down Economics. This action left a shortfall in tax revenues, which they recovered by implementing a new tax on unemployment benefits. Their theory held that if they take care of the rich and screw the working poor, their campaign coffers will always remain full. It worked for the politicians and the rich, but the working class and poor suffered like never before. Things became so appalling for the poor of our nation, that Mother Teresa and her Sisters of Charity opened missions to serve the poor people of the most powerful nation this earth has ever seen.

If you’ve read the first two books in the series; I most humbly thank you and wish you only the very best. If you haven’t; you’d better read them first or you’ll be lost in the woods. I’m sure you’ll find book three to be just as wild, crazy and emotional as its predecessors. So loosen your collar, break out the drinks and snacks and get ready for another extraordinary ride.

Jim Ricca

CHAPTER 1

My brother and I initially decided to wait until our bruises faded before we drove to the beach house, but after we realized that there was no one to hold us accountable for them, we sadly changed our minds and planned to leave the next day. Bob also decided to take a long leave of absence from his practice to allow his emotional wounds to heal, although Ed advised him that working was the best way to get his mind off his loss. But as far as we were concerned, there is nothing like fighting a huge striped bass in chest deep surf to take your mind off of your problems, but it would take more than a fish to erase or ease or losses.

My day’s long dream was still fresh in my mind, and I remembered where the girls hid in one of the houses that Mary’s family owned. She had told me that her parents owned houses and property all over the world, and most were in some very exclusive locations, so I contacted my attorney and had him subpoena the trustee of their estate to secure the locations and deeds to their properties, and ensure he secured all of them. Mary was the sole heir of the entire family estate and therefore, I was now the rightful owner of the family legacy. All I needed was to have the attorney locate them and transfer the deeds to my real estate company.

To give him a head start, I advised him that the PA State Police had confiscated all of the records the Fisher’s had at their mansion in Bucks County, and they should still have them in storage. He could begin the search for their records with Terry’s father, who would know where they’ve been stored for the past 10 years.

My cousin Pat called that afternoon to let me know the renovations to my new restaurant on the Upper Peninsula of Michigan were almost complete, and the cooks had completed their training. He claimed he had a difficult time with them at first, but after he fired a few and brought in a couple new people who were more willing to accept his method of preparing meals, things fell into place. He swore that their food was as good as his, except for the lack of fresh seafood, which had to be expected since they were over a thousand miles from the nearest ocean. Now all he needed was to train Shelly in the proper way to run the restaurant and I’d be turning a nice profit within the year.

I asked if he had someone to spare to train her in Michigan, since her son would have nothing to do in Philly while she was being tutored. Pat told me that Sylvio had already agreed to spend a few weeks with her so it would not be a problem. All he needed was two weeks notice before he had to fly up there. I advised Pat to have Sylvio ready by the second weekend in July, about a month away, and I would arrange to have a jet fly him, Shelly and Tommy up to Michigan.

Pat asked how I was holding up after the loss of my family. He was told there was a huge emptiness in my life I would never be able to fill again.

The following day, we figured our wounds had healed to the point where they were weren’t quite as painful or as visible as before. It was time to get in some fishing to see if it helped take our minds off our sadness. Bob suggested we take Liz’s Mercedes or the Rommel Wagon as he called it, to test his emotional strength. He even volunteered to drive just to be sure he could take the strain.

We’d left most of our summer clothes at the beach house so we had very little to pack and bring along with us. The guards pre-tripped the car for us, and at the last minute, we decided to have Carmine ride with us rather than have him drive another vehicle alone. Nino was remaining behind to run security and supervise the orientation and training of our new dogs, which should arrive within the next week or so. I didn’t feel the need for two guards anymore as was my usual rule; so the three of us left for the shore bright and early with a huge supply of sandwiches, coffee and soda to keep us from starving to death on the way down.

The drive was uneventful and traffic was reasonably light since we left very early on a Wednesday. We discovered that Carmine was not only a good soldier but also a hell of a character as we swapped war stories on the drive down.

He recalled some of the missions he’d been on while operating against Tito’s Communists in the Trieste region along the Italian border with Yugoslavia. On one particularly memorable mission, he’d captured a communist spy that looked exactly like him. Carmine stated that everyone accused him of capturing his twin brother, and after standing side by side with him in front of a mirror; he decided to put on his prisoner’s uniform, which bore the rank of major, to see what he could learn after taking a stroll across the border.

Carmine received an education that was enlightening, frightening and hilarious. It seems his twin had a reputation as a cold blooded killer, and was the ruthless commander of the local counter-intelligence unit. He was so feared by his men that they did their best to avoid him, and if they were forced to address him, they dared not look him in the eye as he regarded direct eye contact as a challenge to his authority. And anyone who challenged his authority was immediately dispatched with a bullet to their head.

In addition, the major had a long list of girlfriends and at least two wives, along with a stash of gold and diamonds his father liberated from the Nazis after the war. Three weeks after he walked across the border at a secluded location, Carmine returned to the Italian side of the border. He was driving a mint condition, German army staff car with its trunk loaded down with his twin’s valuables, along with every map, roster and code book he could find. And sitting next to him was one of his alleged twin’s girlfriends; a striking, raven-haired beauty Carmine had convinced to escape with him. She was also a frustrated ex-mistress of Marshal Tito, and proved to be a valuable source of information.

Carmine was permitted to keep the car after he turned in the code books and intelligence information. And since no one had thought to open the trunk, he retained his stash of Nazi gold and jewelry.

It is amazing how much fun you can have with other people’s money, my friends, he remarked, and how fast you can spend it without having anything to show for it later, except for this fancy gold cigarette lighter and a tattoo of some strange woman.

It was a nice lighter, but I think I would have done more than buy dozens of hangovers, crowds of fast women and a tattoo that bore the name of a woman I couldn’t remember.

I related the story concerning my paybacks with Cpl. Peary, which Bob and Carmine thought was hilarious.

Bob told us about the time his squad killed a VC carrying a duffle bag full of counterfeit US money. After dividing it up amongst the squad members, each man walked back to the firebase with a little over one hundred grand each. Some of the men pissed it away in town on whores, drugs, booze and electronics before word got out that the money was no good.

Bob had taken his cash to a black-market money changer in town, which was illegal as hell. He exchanged it for Vietnamese money a little at a time, then took the Piasters to the bank and exchanged it at the official exchange rate for US dollars which was a little lower than the black market exchange rate. He then bought American Express travelers checks in five hundred dollar increments, which he mailed home for his parents to deposit in his bank account over the next several weeks. He kept about ten grand for his R&R to Australia. Unfortunately, he’d had such a good time; he couldn’t remember any of it. The only thing he had to show for his money and time was a tremendous hangover and a case of the clap, which became symptomatic on the flight back to Vietnam.

All told, he more than quadrupled his money during his financial dealings and still had most of it left.

You cheap bastard, I exclaimed, You’ve been holding out on me all this time!

Kiss my ass, Bob replied, I bought you that Maserati and chipped in with the girls to pay for your GTO and college fund.

Carmine asked us what it was really like growing up in the US during the sixties. He claimed that his only ideas of what it was like came from the Hollywood movies, and he knew the movies were nowhere near reality.

To provide an example; my brother and I recalled our short period of employment at the gas station, along with some of the characters who used to hang around the station. In particular, we told him the saga of Wild Bill Wooster; the guy who was so bad off that he couldn’t get laid in a women’s prison. But when he eventually did get his first piece of ass, he ended up with an infestation of crabs heavy enough to stock a dozen Seafood Shanty restaurants.

The trip was relatively uneventful, with only one request to make a donation to the Governor of Maryland on the way down; fortunately for me and Bob, Carmine was driving at the time.

We pulled into the beach house’s driveway just in time for dinner with the twins and their two female guards. They prepared a very tasty seafood salad with big lumps of fresh crab, clam and calamari. Conversation was kept light and they did not mention our recent losses, although their sympathy for my brother and I was clearly evident.

Little Tommy ate with us and seemed to have one hell of a crush on the twins, along with their female guards who were also very attractive. You wouldn’t know the guards were Italians, with their light brown and blonde hair, blue eyes and fair complexions.

When I asked Tommy why his mother wasn’t eating with us, he said she was working at the restaurant down the street. Bob and I dropped our forks and stared at him, aghast that she felt she needed to work while she was our guest. I gave the twins a dirty look, but they merely shrugged; said Shelly claimed she couldn’t sit around all day sponging off of me, so she found a job as a waitress at the seafood restaurant about a half mile down the road.

Why didn’t you tell her that she was my guest, and as such, she is supposed to just lie around all day and enjoy herself? I asked Marcella.

I did tell her, and so did Lena, along with the other women, but she insisted on paying her way because you’ve been so generous to her and our little sweetheart, Tomas, she replied, tousling Tommy’s blonde hair, causing him to blush beet red in the process.

As soon as we finished dinner, Bob and I decided to take a walk down to the restaurant and have a talk with Shelly. Before we left, I asked Gregorio to pull out our surf fishing gear, find a rod and reel for Tommy and show him the basics of preparing his bait, etc, so by the time we got back, he’ll be ready to go.

Gregorio grinned from ear to ear, grabbed Tommy by the hand and remarked to the kid, Tomas, have you ever seen the movie, The Old Man and the Sea? It’s based on a great fishing story by Ernest Hemmingway."

Carmine and Lucio accompanied us on our walk to Shelly’s place of employment. Along the way, Lucio filled us in on the events that had occurred from the time he’d arrived up until today. Except for one of the six year old kids catching a twenty-two pound blue fish, and almost drowning in the process, things were pretty quiet.

According to Lucio, the kid picked up one of the rods he’d seen wracking about from a bite. He set the hook and was then slowly dragged into the surf by the powerful fish. But the kid wouldn’t let go of that rod, even after the surf was slamming against his chest and knocking him down. The kid was lucky his father had glanced over to check on his rod and saw his son being taken out to sea. The boy was rescued by the men, and his first fish was the main course at his family’s dinner table that night.

When his father asked why he didn’t yell for help, the boy responded, I didn’t need any help, Poppa. I was getting the upper hand on him and just needed a few more minutes to tire him out.

Bob and I laughed long and hard at the kid’s response. Bob suggested that we may need to make him a fighting chair and anchor it to the beach in case he catches another big one.

I’d eaten at the restaurant where Shelly worked and it was nothing special. The place was only another tourist trap serving mediocre food and watered down, overpriced drinks, with cheap decorations hanging from the ceilings and walls.

We asked the greeter to sit us at one of Shelly’s tables and waited as she rushed about delivering orders to her other tables. When she stopped at our table, my partner’s widow greeted us with big smile, gave me and Bob sympathetic hugs before asking what we would like.

I’d like you to take off that apron, put down your pad and pencil and come home with us, I replied. You’re my guest, and I invited you to join us down here so you and Tommy could enjoy yourselves. You do not need to work, and besides that, the twins are very expensive babysitters. Those two are charging me their office rates to keep an eye on my nephew and I can’t afford it.

Shelly laughed, told us that she felt antsy just lying on the beach and not having any spending money to give Tommy.

I’m averaging almost $200.00 a night in tips, which will come in real handy when I get home.

Shelly, you have a good job waiting for you when you get home. In addition, you’ll be training with my cousin Sylvio for at least two weeks after you get back so you’ll know how to manage the place, I responded. Enjoy the next two weeks, because you’ll be busier than a one armed paper-hanger once you get home and start managing the restaurant. And as far as spending money is concerned, all you have to do is have one of the senior guards go with you to the store and he’ll pay for everything.

Jimmy, I don’t feel comfortable spending your money; especially after everything you’ve done for me, she stated, as her embarrassment turned her face red. "And don’t tell me that Joe would have done the same for you; because there is no way in hell he would have been able to even afford to help you with a car payment let alone paying off a mortgage, and especially pay for open heart surgery. I know you were born with a lot of money, but I …

Wait a minute Shelly, Bob interjected, Jim and his family didn’t have any money either. He was so poor that he had to wear his older brother’s hand-me-down clothes and shoes, even though they were worn out and the shoes had holes in the soles. He didn’t get his first new winter coat that fit properly and kept him warm until I bought it for him. He didn’t start making serious money until after he came home from the army and figured out how to knock off liquor and convenience stores without getting caught. He learned how to invest his loot, and now he’s amassed a fortune after first cornering the market for polyester leisure suits and disco-globes. After that, he leveraged himself into dominant positions in computer chips and meat grinders for the fast food market.

Shelly stood there, gape mouthed at my brother’s statement, not sure if he was full of shit or just crazy. Before she could reply, a man walked up behind her and rudely told her to quit wasting so much time with the customers, and get back to work or he’d find someone to take her place.

I was about to tell the asshole to go pound sand, when Carmine and Lucio stood and gently pushed the man away from Shelly; advising him that customer service was an integral part of waitressing, and if he didn’t understand that concept, then they’d be more than happy to take him out back and teach it to him.

The guy was flabbergasted over being confronted like that. He did a quick cost-benefit analysis as he sized up the two very dangerous looking men confronting him before he hurried back to the kitchen.

While we’re waiting for you to hand in your resignation, I’ll have a cup of decaf and a big slice of key lime pie, I told her. Bob, Lucio and Carmine ordered the same then we laughed like hell while Shelly walked back to turn in our order.

I understood her feelings concerning charity because I’d had a belly full of it as a kid.

Shelly sat with us while we finished our snack then said goodbye to her friends at the register while we stuck Bob with the tab.

We were walking across the parking lot when a Caddy barreled in off the road. It had New York tags and the driver obviously thought that he owned the road, parking lot and sidewalk, which was typical of most New York City drivers. Two burly men climbed out and hurried into the restaurant without giving us a glance, even though we had to jump out of their way to avoid being hit.

Rude bastards, ain’t they? Bob remarked as we continued on our way back to the beach house.

New York assholes, I responded. Those scumbags polluted the ocean around their city, in addition to the entire Jersey shore; now they’re coming down here to ruin the Outer Banks.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lucio grab Carmine by the arm, point to the Caddy then whisper something to his boss with a very concerned look on his face. Carmine suddenly frowned, nodded to Lucio and told us that we should get off the road and out of sight until the people in the caddy drove off.

I asked why, and he replied that Lucio thought he recognized one of the men as a Mafioso that he’d once tried to arrest in Italia. But the man disappeared before he could seize him.

We ducked between two houses and crouched behind the dumpster. Lucio knelt down, wrote down the Caddy’s license plate number then hid behind a pick-up truck. A few minutes later, the two men and one of the waiters exited the building; their arms laden with take-out bags which they placed in the back seat. The men started the car, backed out onto the roadway and headed north.

They must have a lot of people to feed with that much take-out, Jimmy, Shelly remarked. They’ve been coming here every day for lunch and dinner take-out since before the Memorial Day weekend according to the rest of the workers.

Lucio ran up to Carmine and swore the taller man was Enrico Scadutto, a much wanted kidnapper and murderer who used to work for the Sicilian mob. Carmine advised him to contact their people in Rome to get an update on his current location, and if he was in fact Scadutto, they’d grab him and fly him back to Italia to stand trial.

Carmine, if you noticed the quantity of food they were carrying; he is obviously not alone, and grabbing him will not be as easy as the men you snatched in Baltimore, I remarked.

Jimmy, this man is responsible for the deaths of several prosecutors and judges that we are sure of, and that’s not including all the policemen he and his comrades have murdered, he replied bitterly. But first, we put his house under surveillance to make sure of what we are up against, and only then will we carefully plan the operation to seize the bastard and possibly his friends.

Remember that you have family members here. Plus Bob and I don’t want to bury any more people in our lifetime, I replied sadly.

Two of the men he killed were close friends of mine, Carmine replied.

The prosecutor he murdered was my cousin, Vinny Lucio spat, I swore I would either capture or kill him even if it was the last thing I did on this earth.

We hustled back to the house so the men could contact their friends in Italia.

Bob and I headed for the beach with Tommy, where there were at least eight others from our group fishing. I was surprised to see the twins and their female guards casting into the surf. They did a pretty good job of heaving their lines out past the surf line and we graciously complimented them on their skill.

I set up my rod, walked knee deep into the surf, and with everyone watching, I gave my rod a mighty heave, only to hear my line snap with a loud crack. While their laughter drowned out the sound of the surf, I looked down to see that my bail was still closed.

Tommy insisted on casting by himself and after several wild casts, he listened closely to my brother and managed to put his line out just short of the surf line, but with the tide coming in, he would be in a good position for a hit in a few minutes.

Bob put out his usual, out of sight cast, and once I set up my line again, I put my baited hooks out past the breakers before joining Bob and Tommy on our beach chairs, cracked open a beer and waited for a hit.

Tommy couldn’t sit still and kept cranking in his line to see if he had anything. I told him to just let it sit out there and if something hit his bait, he’d know it. To emphasize my point, Bob’s pole jerked a few times then bent over almost 90 degrees.

There you go, Tommy, I told the wide eyed kid, that’s how you’ll know you have a fish on.

We watched while Bob cranked in a decent size Blue fish.

My line was next, and as I was cranking it in against the drag, Tommy yelled that he had a hit. I tried to watch him as I reeled in my line, but whatever was on the other end kept stripping off my line.

Bob ran over to help Tom.

My pole gave a sudden strong jerk and my reel began singing as I watched the line play out too quickly, when whatever I’d hooked took a turn to the right. Running along the shoreline to prevent my line from playing out completely, I had to yell at everyone to get their rods under my line or we’d end up with a tremendous snag.

Twenty minutes later, I was slowly gaining on my fish when Bob came over and said Tommy had caught a twenty-eight inch flounder and was running it back to the house to show his mom.

It looks like you might have two fish on, Jimmy, Bob remarked as he handed me a beer, I just hope you got stripers instead of blues, because I really don’t like to eat them anymore; they have too strong of a fishy flavor.

I handed him my beer and told him I’d do my best to catch something more to his liking.

When I turned back to the business of cranking in my line, the surface of the water about fifteen feet in front of me suddenly exploded in a frenzy of angry fish as it tried to toss my hook. It was a very large splash and I instinctively thought it might be a shark. I turned to my brother to ask him to get the big filet knife, but he was already on the beach smiling at me and finishing off my beer.

One of the guards came running out to me and strongly advised that I back onto the beach, but I was doing all I could to just hold on as the power of the struggling fish threatened to break my line and my rod. If I put any more strain on the line, I’d never get to see the fish, but just in case, I slowly began angling toward the shoreline until we could see something big and thick splashing in the shallow surf.

Quickly handing the rod to my brother, I grabbed my filet knife and ran out to the fish, with my hand on the line to keep it taut. Several of the men came out to help and I was surprised to hear one the men shout that I’d caught a huge yellow-fin tuna.

Greg held the fish steady until I was able to pick it up by the gills, and sure enough, it was a yellow fin, about 45 pounds and still full of fight. We were all shocked to see a fish that normally stayed in the Gulf Stream so close to the shore.

After showing my impressive catch to my brother, I asked, Is tuna OK for you or should I wait to see if I catch some cod fish or swordfish?

Well, to be honest, Jimmy; I kind of had a hankering for some salmon.

OK, I’ll throw this back and see if I can catch one for you, I replied, and started walking back to the surf as if I was going to toss it back.

Several of the guards started screaming at me to hold on, but just as I was about to turn back and start cleaning the tuna, I spotted little Gina. She was the daughter of Lena’s female guard, Kate.

Katarina was a single mother who’d lost her husband, a Military Policeman with the Italian army, during a firefight with the Mafia in Sicily.

Gina, all of ten years old, was a real sweetheart and since she was sadly fatherless, she’d been adopted by the other guards. She wanted to try her hand at fishing and was next in line to get a rod and reel, so I set up Tommy’s for her.

I called her over while I was cleaning the fish and I could see the excitement in her eyes.

Where is your momma, Gina? I asked with a big grin on my face.

She went back to the big house with Marcella and Lena to clean their fishes, she replied sweetly.

Bob knelt down; knowing what I was going to do, he held her by the arm then asked her, Gina, do you know what a fish story is?

A story about fish, she responded with a big smile.

Not exactly, sweetheart, Bob corrected her, All people who fish always tell exaggerated stories about the fish they caught. They claim the fish they caught was much larger than it really was, or they caught more than they really did.

But isn’t that lying, Uncle Roberto? she asked.

No honey, he said with a grin, when you tell stories about fishing, it’s not a lie, it’s just a fish story, and God does not think fish stories are lies, He thinks they are funny.

I think I understand, she said with a confused look on her face.

Several guards standing by added their own explanation to my brother’s in Italian, to be sure she understood, and once she began laughing, we were sure she was OK.

After I removed the head and guts, the tuna was about ten pounds lighter. I handed it to her and asked her if she could carry it back to the house. Gina had to hug it to her chest to keep from dropping it while I told her to tell her mom that SHE caught it herself, and I just cleaned it for her.

Gina laughed and laughed, then said, This is a bigger fish than the one Tomas caught?

Yes it is, sweetheart, so be sure he sees it, too. But remember, you caught it without any help, I said laughing. And as soon as you get back, I’ll teach you how to catch fish with a rod and reel, but you have to hurry before it gets too dark.

Gina ran to the house, laughing and shouting for her mother all the way to the door.

Carmine was walking toward us from the guard’s house at the same time, and he stopped Gina to ask about the fish she was carrying. We couldn’t hear what was said, but we saw him put both of his hands to his head in amazement, then he patted Gina on the shoulder and resumed his journey toward us.

Carmine waved the other guards over to join us. Before they were gathered, he remarked that a tiny little girl like Gina must have had a hell of time reeling in that big tuna. There were a few snickers from the men who knew the truth, but before he could ask for more details, the men had gathered around. He advised them that they had been given a special mission by their superiors in Rome.

Lucio ran to us from the direction of the house with a paper in his hand, which he handed to Carmine. After reading it by the light of the setting sun, he stated that they had proof that Enrico Scadutto was currently in the United States. He was living somewhere on the east coast, and probably with one of the big Mafia families out of New York City.

The angry remarks from the men told me they already knew this criminal and were anxious to get a piece of his ass.

Bob nudged me, nodded his head to the side, and as we sidled away from the center of the group he whispered, You’re not thinking of going on this mission are you?

Fucking-A, I’m going, dude. My family has had a long standing feud with those bastards.

I slowly edged back into the group while Bob stood there shaking his head.

Carmine assigned several men to tail the Caddy the following morning when they made their meal run.

I interrupted and said they should use the pick-up truck and make sure it had fishing gear clearly showing so they could drive by their house, and then fish their way behind it to check out the beach side of the house. All the houses north of our location were ocean front so they would look like any other guys out surf fishing.

Carmine agreed, and the two men who were going to do the surveillance nodded in acknowledgement. Once Carmine and his men knew their location, they’d set up surveillance to get an idea of how many men they were going to deal with. He had already called the compound and ordered some special equipment to be brought down as quickly as possible. He estimated that their targets were not going to be here too much longer; although he had no idea why they were here in the first place.

Lucio added that Scadutto was not known to be a fisherman, nor was he the type who spent his holidays by the ocean. So they were either hiding from the law or from another mob family after kidnapping or killing someone. Scadutto had a reputation for keeping his victims alive until he collected the ransom, then he’d kill them and dispose of the body without it ever being found again.

I wonder if they had a hand in my family’s death, I stated to the men.

That has yet to be seen, Vinny, Nino replied as the men suddenly began discussing the possibility amongst themselves. If they were, we’ll find out after we question them. But I don’t see how they could have engineered such a dramatic accident.

Our crowd broke up when Carmine walked back to the house with Lucio.

Bob grabbed me by the arm and told me there was no way I was going on this operation.

Your ticker ain’t what it used to be, plus you’ve never worked with these guys in a raid like this, Jimmy.

I can handle myself in a forced building entry, Bob. I trained on this sort of thing in the MP’s, I replied.

You’re going to get yourself killed, he responded angrily, and I know you wouldn’t mind buying the farm either, but I’m not about to let you kill yourself and leave me all alone.

Little Gina ran up to us with an enormous smile on her face, just as I was about to respond to my brother.

Uncle Vicente, the little sweetheart laughed, my momma and Aunt Marcella said you shouldn’t teach little children to tell lies.

Bob and I broke up laughing at the thought of the conversation that must have occurred in the kitchen when beautiful little Gina brought in her fish.

I’ll tell you what, Gina, Bob said as he knelt down and picked up a rod, let’s see what you can catch and then we’ll go see your momma and Aunt Marcella to show them what a good fisherman you are.

We heavily baited three rods; one for me, another for Gina, which would go into a sand pipe and one for Bob. If Bob or I got the first hit, we’d hand Gina our rod to let her crank it in so she could honestly claim to have caught it.

Gina’s line was cast out first by my brother, who could toss the line out further than anyone on the beach. But no sooner than we cast our own lines out, than Gina began screaming that something was trying to steal her rod. I turned to see her rod whipsawing crazily back and forth as whatever was on then other end tried frantically to shake the hook.

Bob got to her before I did and pulled the rod from the sand pipe. There was no need to set the hook, but when he pulled the rod up to begin cranking the reel, the long fiberglass pole bent over 90 degrees and was almost slipped from his hand.

It looked like she had a hell of a fish on, so I reeled my line as fast as I could to get it out of the water and prevent a possible tangle with Gina’s.

After placing my pole in the sand pipe, I pulled over a beach chair and lifted Gina onto it as she excitedly screamed that she wanted to reel it in. I grabbed another chair for Bob but he couldn’t sit down just yet, as he was seriously struggling with the powerful fish on the other end of the line. Several guards came over to watch the fight as the reel’s drag sang out in protest against the line being stripped from the spool.

Jimmy, I have to hold on with both hands or the sucker is going to pull the rod from my hands, Bob yelled with a great big grin on his face. Have Gina come over here to try and crank it in.

Greg lifted the girl from the chair, stood her next to Bob and instructed her to turn the crank to bring the fish in. It was a ridiculous thing to do, since the line was still being stripped off the reel with amazing speed. But Gina used both hands to crank the handle, with a very determined look on her pretty face.

Greg told Bob, You’re almost out of line Roberto; better do something quick or the fish will snap your line.

Bob glanced down and his eyes went wide when he saw bare metal at the center of the spool. He suddenly jumped to his feet then took off down the beach to keep his line from snapping against the center of the spool. Our crowd was hot on his heels for about the first 200 yards. He slowed down, cranked a few times and said the fish was getting tired. He knelt down again to let Gina go to work, but the rod suddenly jerked hard to his left and the drag began singing again.

Bob took off in the opposite direction until he was able to gain on the fish again. He once again knelt for Gina, but after only a few turns on the reel, he was off again. The process was repeated at least five more times before the fish was exhausted sufficiently to allow Gina to crank it into the surf, where it put on a hell of a show; splashing about in its last attempt to get away.

The sun was just sinking below the horizon behind us, so we couldn’t quite make out what she had on the line, but whatever it was, it was kicking up a hell of a lot of white water as it thrashed in the shallows.

Greg jammed a sand pipe deep into the sand and placed a chair over it. He seated our girl in the beach chair, rammed the pole through the webbing and down into the pipe so the fish wouldn’t pull the rod from her hand.

Go ahead and reel him in, Gina, we shouted to her, as she struggled hard to crank the fish in the last 50 feet to the beach.

The fish was kicking up quite a bit of water when her mother and Marcella came charging across the beach to watch Gina pull in her mighty fish.

Gina was laughing and screaming with elation as she struggled against the fish, but she was definitely gaining on it while Kate joined her daughter in the excitement of her first catch.

Bob was about half shot in the ass from charging up and down the beach in his efforts to tire the fish. He sat next to Gina and gave her words of encouragement as the tiny little girl used both hands to turn the crank handle.

Several guards shouted that the fish was finally beached before they ran out to pick it up for her. There were loud shouts of surprise from the men as they ran back to our little hero. Greg was holding up a beauty of a Striper, at least four feet long, while Antonio held up another Striper just a little smaller than Greg’s.

You caught two fish, Gina, Bob shouted as he put his arm around her skinny shoulders.

I turned to Kate and asked, Do you have any doubts now as to your daughter’s fishing abilities?

Kate was too excited to answer me, but the men laughed long and hard at my joke as we picked up our gear and returned to the house. Her fish were cleaned and put in the refrigerator for tomorrow’s lunch.

The following morning, Bob, Greg and I went out and bought Gina her very own rod and reel, along with six more sand pipes, fighting harnesses and some PVC piping to make fighting chairs for the kids.

That evening after dinner, Carmine advised that our targets were living about three quarters of a mile up the road in a large, two story house that had no other houses close to it. He dispatched a couple of men on foot to check out the place more closely. They were equipped with night vision scopes, in addition to low light cameras with telephoto lenses.

The following morning while we were fishing, the two men came trotting down the beach as if they were out for their morning exercises. Since Carmine and Nino were fishing with us, they made their initial report as we stood by.

There are at least eight men in the house that we can be sure of, Joe stated without emotion, they did not go out to the beach once it got dark and they did not turn on any of their outside lights.

His partner, Giorgio, continued, The house is like ours, built on stilts and is about four meters above the ground with a wooden deck surrounding the entire first floor, with only a small balcony facing the ocean on the second floor in the rear. The first floor deck has stairs to the ground level in the front and rear of the house, but the second floor deck has no beach access. I counted five vehicles, all big American luxury cars, which they keep locked at all times.

Joe took a cup of coffee from Nino and after taking a sip, he went on with his report. The first floor windows had their shades open as did most of the second floor windows except for what I think, is the front corner bedroom. Its windows are always closed and shades pulled tightly. I saw no shadows moving about the room, so I don’t know if the people occupying the room were asleep or the room is empty. We checked one garbage can and only found empty food containers from the restaurant along with the usual breakfast remains, and a few fast food containers. So they must be driving to a fast food place for their lunches. There was also some evidence that they cook Italian food occasionally for themselves, but not too much. And they do a lot of drinking because there were many empty beer, vino and whiskey bottles. But we were surprised to find quite a few diapers in another can which had been sealed in a plastic bag.

His partner scratched his head and added, I saw no evidence of a child seats or toys around the house so the diapers must have been left behind by the previous tenant.

Carmine was thinking about their report when I asked, What’s across the street from the house?

Joe answered, Nothing but sand dunes and the bay.

We need to get some people in those dunes to keep an eye on them during the day, and also a few more above and below the house on the beach, I suggested to Carmine.

He turned to his two men and told them to get some sleep. He advised Nino to get a couple of men in the dunes to watch the front of the house, and be sure they have plenty of water and something to shade them from the sun. Carmine called Greg over, told him to take his partner, get a description of the house from Joe, head north on foot until they could observe the house; then fish from there until he sends their relief. He also sent two men north of the house to keep an eye on it.

I had an idea. Carmine, I think Bob and I will take a fast drive up to the house to see what real estate agency is renting the place. We’ll go to their office and ask about it as if we are interested in renting it.

Why would you want to do that? he asked.

They all have floor plans of their rentals, I responded.

Fortunately, the rental agency had their sign on the building and thirty minutes later, we were sitting in their office inquiring about it.

The house is currently on a week to week rental agreement, the skinny southern woman advised smiling, and we have no idea when they will be leaving.

We’re looking for something secluded like that place, Bob replied, but not until later this season; probably more like August and September, not right now.

Well, I don’t know when those people will be leaving, she remarked as she pulled out a thick magazine with her rental listings, maybe we have something similar to it that you’ll find just as nice in case those men from New Yawk City decide to stay all summer.

I noticed that she sarcastically mimicked the renter’s accents.

I thought quick and said, New Yawk City people always seem kind of rude to me. Did those people strike you the same way?

She rolled her eyes then slapped her hand on her desk, They are the most rude and ignorant men I have ever met. Those people just barged in here and demanded that I rent them some place away from everybody else, and to do it quick before they got upset. I swear I was afraid they were going to beat me up if I didn’t get them a place right that instant. And it was the week before Memorial Day, when I am extremely busy with my regular seasonal customers too. But they plopped down over ten thousand dollars in cash for the rent, then handed me another thousand in cash so they wouldn’t have to fill in any paperwork.

That’s really ignorant of them to speak to a nice lady like you that way, Bob remarked as he took the magazine from her. If you’ll show me the one we’re interested in, we’ll be on our way and leave you to your business.

She flipped through the book until she found the unit we wanted, which had a nice four color picture of the front and beach side of the house, along with the floor plans. It was just what we needed. But before we left, I asked if I could use her copier to make copies of the place to show our wives. She apologized to us because her copier had died the week before, but she gave us two more copies of her rental catalogue.

We stopped at a small office supply and print shop on the way back, had the floor plans along with the pictures of the house blown up, and had twenty copies of each made while we waited.

Carmine and Nino were very impressed with our ingenuity.

I told him that I was going to take part in the raid.

Both soldiers were dead set against it, and having my brother take their side didn’t help me at all; especially after Bob told them I was planning to get myself killed in the raid.

I could have slapped the shit out of my brother for taking their side against me, and telling them the truth about my reason for joining them. I spent the next hour arguing that my brother was full of shit; plus, I could fight as well as any of them. And if they didn’t believe me, then their memory was a little too selective. But I was getting nowhere until I got fed up and told them flat out, If I’m not part of the raid, you can all pack up your belongings, drive back to the compound and clear your equipment and personal belongings off of my property tonight. You guys are still on my payroll, but I’ll end that effective immediately if you continue to refuse my orders.

The three men were stunned to hear me threaten them like that, but I’d had enough.

If you decide to return to Maryland, remember that most of the weapons and ammo are mine, so be sure to leave them here; because I’ll need them to wipe out those fuckers myself.

Before they could respond, I turned and walked back to the house.

I had my MP-5 broken down for cleaning when Bob and my two security men entered my room.

All three men were red faced with anger as they stood inside the door and stared at me.

Carmine spoke first, I can’t let you jeopardize the safety of my men by allowing you to go with us. You don’t have the training my men have and I can’t let you kill yourself, and possibly some of my men if that is your intent.

Nino added, Your brother has never lied to us before, and he is sure you want to die in a firefight now that your family is gone. I have the greatest sympathy for you, Jim, but we can’t allow you to commit suicide; and definitely not while we are conducting a mission like this, or at any other time for that matter, my friend.

I’m not trying to commit suicide, I lied, shouting angrily at my brother, I have a score to settle with the mob just like the rest of you, and I intend to participate in the raid, even if I do it myself.

Bob crouched down next to me, Jimmy, you can’t take on all three of us, but if it comes to that, we will subdue you to keep you from leaving the house.

Bobby, this is no way to end our friendship, I responded sadly.

Better to end it this way than for me to bury you, brother, he replied.

We all have to die sometime, Bob. I’ve been living on borrowed time ever since Vietnam, and now that everyone else is gone, I guess this is as good a time as any.

My brother sighed, hung his head and then grabbed me by my shirt, What about me, Jimmy. Don’t I count for anything in your world? Wasn’t I the guy who took you in when you had no where else to go? Who was it that stuck by you during all of your hard times, and who held you when you couldn’t take it anymore? Jesus Christ, brother, who the hell cried his eyes out for you after the fucking Army declared you MIA and then KIA? Who also lost their wife last month, and who else felt the loss of little Mary, and Jenny and Rachel as much as you did? I thought we were brothers, Jim, but now you’re telling me that you don’t care about me anymore.

Bob’s eyes were watering up heavily when he finally stood up and walked from the room.

I had my submachine-gun assembled, slipped a full magazine into its well before I stood to face Carmine and Nino.

Am I going in alone tonight, or do we get the men together to work out a plan?

We determined that 03:00 hours was probably the best time to hit them. It was a proven fact that 3:00 AM was when most men on midnight watch were either fighting off sleep, or had already succumbed to it. And the mafia thugs didn’t have anywhere near the discipline or motivation of a soldier.

The men posted at the house radioed in that there was no movement at all in the house, although they could just make out the sound of the television on the first floor.

We all donned black, tactical coveralls along with matching balaclavas to cover our faces. Since speed and quiet were paramount on this operation, we each carried only two extra magazines for each of our weapons. If we couldn’t do the job with 120 rounds from the MP-5s and 30 rounds from our pistols, then we would all be in big trouble.

I was assigned to pick the lock and open the front door for two men who would enter first, with me right behind them. Another team of three would enter through the back door. Two teams of two men each would enter through the side windows, which were now open. I’d instructed our men earlier to shut off the central air conditioning unit at the circuit breaker mounted on the outside wall next to it, to be sure they’d leave the windows open for us.

Two more men equipped with a ladder, would climb to the rear deck and enter through the French doors into the master bedroom.

We were all equipped with silenced MP-5s and 9MM Berettas, so any loud gunfire would provide us with the location of the bad guys. Most of the men were also equipped with night vision goggles and laser target designators on their weapons.

Bob and the twins were waiting in the vans just down the road to provide medical treatment for any of our wounded. Bob was so pissed at me that he refused to talk to me, in spite of my assurances that I’d be back in twenty minutes.

The front door was equipped with a cheap, Kwik-set entry knob and dead bolt, which took me all of ten seconds to unlock. Carmine had poured copious quantities of oil on the hinges and into the key holes to avoid generating even the slightest squeak when we opened the door.

Carmine placed his finger on his radio’s ear piece, then signaled me to open the door, which meant that the other teams had picked their respective locks and were about to make their entry. I slowly turned the door knob to its stop. With no discernable noise, I ever so slowly, pushed it open. It made no sound as it swung open just far enough for Lucio to slip through on his belly with Carmine right behind him. I was next, but I was amazed that a man his size could move so swiftly and silently as I carefully crawled in behind him.

The front door opened onto a short hallway, with a utility room to our right and a closet to our left. Both doors were closed but there was no need to check either one per our plan, since neither room was large enough to hold a bed. The hallway ended at the dimly lit living room, where we could see a man’s head leaning back against the upper cushion as he lay back on a recliner. The TV in front of him was displaying some idiot trying to sell diet pills. On the sofa next to him was another man; stretched out with his feet on the far arm rest, his face turned to the back of the sofa, a sure sign that he’d fallen asleep long ago.

The coffee table between them held two empty glasses along with the bottle of Dago Red they’d polished off earlier in the evening.

Just past the living room was a large eat-in kitchen with a set of French doors that opened onto the back deck. To either side of the kitchen were two bedrooms with their doors closed. Just short of the kitchen and on the left side, were a set of stairs leading to the 2nd floor’s central hallway. We could see that the door at the top of the stairs was also closed.

There were only the two men on guard duty in the living room and both men were snoring away, quite loudly.

Lucio turned to Carmine, who made a Karate chop motion with his hand. The two men stood, silently crept to the men as they removed lead-filled saps from their back pockets. Without the slightest hesitation, the two powerfully built soldiers slammed both men on their heads at least three times each to make sure they wouldn’t wake up to warn their friends.

Just as they finished with their targets, men assigned to enter through the rear of the first floor crept into