Page 175 of Dark Angel
“Come up with abelievablestory, Monroe,” Gabriel said. “He’s got a wife and kids.”
She left, Carmelo hurried over. “Boss, we got the bodies loaded. I’m takin’ two guys with me.”
“You clear headed, Carmelo?” Gabriel asked.
“Yeah, all good. Seeing Diego shot shook me, but I’m okay. I got this.” Carmelo extended his hand. Gabriel shook it.
“Nice and easy, Carmelo,” Gabriel said.
“Yes, sir.” Carmelo strode to the box truck and drove way.
Gabriel was ticking off the items one by one. Next call? His locksmith.
“It’s gonna be a while,” the locksmith said.
“Ten, tops, or I get someone else.”
“It will cost you, Mr. Santini.”
“Whatever it takes.”
Gabriel instructed the remainder of his guys to move the Bratva vehicles. “Take them to Paolo’s junkyard.”
When the last car drove out, Gabriel breathed deep. Soon, his day shift would be arriving, so he strode to the basement and restored the electricity. Back on the first floor, he found the night crew hiding in the break room. He reassured them that they were safe, but their confidence had been shattered. After ushering them into the lobby, they waited for the day shift to arrive.
Five minutes later, they started filing in.
One of them hugged him. “Mr. Santini, thank God. It’s been a nightmare.”
“Welcome home,” said another.
“It’s been a rough week,” said a third.
Once his employees had arrived, he gathered the milling group. “I’m sorry for what you’ve been through. I know it’s been a scary week. Thank you for your courage, for working under these terrible conditions.”
“Are more Russians coming?” asked one of them.
“We’ve been terrified,” said another.
“I prayed for your return,” said a third.
“The locksmith’s on his way,” Gabriel explained. “Security will be heightened, we’ll be returning to our normal eight-hour shifts, and everyone will receive a sizable bonus in the next paycheck.”
He answered their questions, assured them they were safe. The night shift left, the first day shift began working. Before Gabriel could take a moment, his phone rang.
It was his cousin, Monroe.
He answered, “Tell me good news.”
“Diego’s gonna be okay,” Monroe said. “You know, G, you operate in a vortex of evil.”
The tension claiming Gabriel’s shoulders released in a chortle. “A vortex of evil? What went wrong with you and Teddy?”
“Every summer, Elsa would read to us from the newspaper, science books. Non-kid stuff. She told us it was important to sound smart.”
“No, Monroe, it’s important tobesmart.”
She laughed. “Diego’s in surgery. You coming down to see him?”
