Gary Ponzo - A Touch of Revenge

Tommy hopped to his feet, pulled out his cell phone and headed for the door. “I’ll make a call and find out,” Tommy said. Then he closed the door behind him.

Tommy felt the cool mountain air hit him as he stepped out of the sheriff’s office and dialed a contact number on his phone. Even though he’d been in Payson less than a day, he was beginning to develop an appreciation for the small town’s atmosphere. It was more open and serene. He could see himself living in a place like this where the skyline was etched with pine trees.

Back in west Baltimore the streets were teeming with possible assailants. Tommy’s innate ability to detect a foreign body in the city’s bloodstream always served him well, but it had been fine-tuned from years of mingling with the crowd and creating alliances. Out here, however, it seemed much easier to spot an intruder. There were no drug dealers hanging out on the corner, or gangbangers looking to initiate new members.

So it was easy for him to spot the shadow lingering behind the steering wheel as he strode out onto the wooden deck. The figure behind the wheel seemed to track Tommy as he moved onto the gravel parking lot, paying too much attention to an ordinary man on his cell phone.

Tommy waited four rings, then heard the tone click over to voice mail. A male voice on the phone said, “Go.”

“Hey, Hector, it’s Tommy. Give me a call.”

Tommy pushed his phone off and watched the figure in the car stare at the sheriff’s office. From the parking lot Tommy could see Julie standing by a small window. The man’s attention seemed to be on her.

Tommy considered getting help from inside, but was afraid the guy might bolt. He decided to be direct. Maybe the guy was simply waiting for someone, but Tommy couldn’t afford to wait. From what he’d heard, this Barzani guy could be using anyone to get Nick.

Something gnawed at Tommy’s gut and it took a minute for him to realize what it was. Julie. She was inside that office waiting for Nick, being the good wife. Being brave. He had to eliminate any possibility the shadow was a danger.

Tommy went to his rental car, which was parked behind the man’s car. He went around the back and opened the trunk, stalling for time. Trying to figure out what to do next. From behind the opened trunk he could see the back of the car. Tommy waited for someone else to leave the office or someone to pull in, but in this one horse town, it could be a while. He was about to dial Nick’s cell phone when the guy started the engine. Tommy lost his patience and decided to do what he did best. Go head first. Be the aggressor. Take the tail by surprise.

He slammed the trunk shut and took long, strong steps toward the sedan. As he approached the passenger side of the car, he could hear the window slide down. He bent over to see who he was dealing with and saw right away his haste had cost him. The man behind the wheel held a pistol with a confidence which took years to acquire.

“Get in,” the man grunted.

Tommy had one option. As he opened the door, he got a good look at the man. There was an unlit cigar in the corner of his mouth and a smug grin on his face.

Tommy dropped into the passenger seat, shut the door, then wheeled and snatched the gun from the man’s hand. He aimed the gun directly at the man’s chest and pulled the trigger. A sliver of a yellow flame popped out of the top of the gun. He held the gun still while the man leaned over the flame and sucked his cigar to life.

“Joey Tess,” Tommy said. “Always with the toys.”

Joe Tessamano held the freshly lit cigar between his left index and middle fingers and reached over to give Tommy a bear hug. “Been too long, Tommy.”

Tommy patted Joe’s back and pulled away to see him smiling, his bright white teeth gleaming against his tanned face. “The fuck are you doing out here?”

“I’m living down in Scottsdale now,” Joe said, taking a quick drag on the cigar to keep it going. “A couple of hours drive.”

“Hey, how’s Kenny doing?”

Joe rolled down his window and blew out a stream of smoke into the mountain air. He paused for a moment and Tommy braced for the bad news. Joe’s son had been strung out on heroin for years. When Joe came to Tommy for help, Tommy put the word out on the street: any dealer who sold to Kenny would pay dearly. Tommy had cachet back then. He never had to say things twice.

Now Joe looked over at Tommy with a sparkle in his eye. “He’s doing great.”

“Really?”

“He’s a veterinarian over in San Diego. Got a wife and 3-year-old daughter.” Joe fished around the inside of his jacket with his free hand and came out with a photo of a young girl in a pink dress holding a giant lollipop in one hand and a ‘Happy Birthday’ balloon in the other.

Tommy grabbed the picture. “Aw, she’s not spoiled at all, is she?”

Joe chuckled, taking the picture back and stuffing it into his pocket. “She’s the love of my life.” He looked over at Tommy with a sentimental smile. “Hey, Tommy, listen … uh, thanks.”

“For what?”

Joe cocked his head slightly at Tommy’s charade of ignorance.

Tommy waved the back of his hand at him. “Yeah, of course, Joey. I’m glad he made it. I’m happy for you.”

Joe pointed his cigar at Tommy. “‘You know what I always liked about you? You never took an order without asking why. Cap would tell you to scare someone, or break a bone and you’d always look at him and ask why. No one ever asked Mr. C. why about anything except you. And the beautiful way you’d spin it when he gave you that dark glare. ‘But Mr. Capelli, should someone ask me why I’m doing something and all I do is shrug, well pretty soon they’re going to fill their head with their own ideas and maybe it’s not the right ones. Maybe they guess wrong about your motivation, then maybe they start talking behind your back, start making their own plans.”

“Then,” Joe added, “You’d give him that classic Tommy look with your eyebrows raised and say, ‘I’ve gotta have your back, Boss.’”

Tommy grinned. “Yeah, well, I guess I’ve never been very good at taking orders, have I?”

Joe’s face grew somber as he puffed on his cigar, the ashes glowing orange in the afternoon shadows. He reached into his jacket again, only this time he came out with a folded manila envelope and handed it to Tommy.

Tommy opened the envelope and saw the stack of hundreds held together with a rubber band. On top of the money was a photo. Tommy pulled out the picture and held it by the window to catch a ray of sun. It was a surveillance shot, grainy because it was taken from a distance and then blown up to give a better view of the target. And Tommy knew that’s exactly who this was, too-a target. His mouth curled into ugly scowl as he recognized the woman in the photo. Julie Bracco.

He looked over at Joe Tess and said, “Tell me everything.”

• • •

Hestin Jirdeer sat in his car across the street from the Gila County sheriff’s office, pulled the binoculars down and pursed his lips. He didn’t trust the assassin he’d hired to kill the FBI agent’s wife and now understood why. Even from a hundred yards he could see the man hugging the FBI agent’s cousin in his car. The same gangster who’d helped the FBI capture the KSF’s supreme leader. They were obviously very friendly and the assassin was certainly helping the FBI himself. Jirdeer dreaded even making the call he needed to make, but decided to do it quick, before too much time had passed. Their plans were dependent on timing. He dialed his cell phone.

“Yes,” came the deep voice.

“Sarock,” Jirdeer’s breath became short in his chest. “They have Semir.”