Wow, that whole "I'll update this blog monthly" really didn't pan out, did it? Wellll...anyway, here I am!
I've gotten some lovely reading materials for research!
So, I thought this post would be all about my historical fiction work, 1920 Interbellum (working title) which is currently nearly done and going through edits as I finish the final chapters. I think I'll have it finished by January 2013.
It's only due to Abby's prodding that ANYONE knows about this little work in progress that is now up to 600ish pages.
Here's the teeny blurb again:
Would you like to get to know the main characters? Read a bit of the story?
(Brother to Maria, Cousin to Nicola)
1920. Chicago.
A chill wind blew past the windows of the top story penthouse apartment. A babyfaced brunette sat at his desk enjoying his favorite dish, a heaping plate of spaghetti bolognaise. It was December and this had been a very good year. Prohibition had perhaps been the best thing to happen to him. Content, Vencenzo Veronesi swirled the long noodles on his fork and prepared to take another bite.
However, before the fork could reach his lips, peaceful silence was broken by the shrill ringing of the phone which sat inches from his meal.
With a sigh, the perfectly twirled bite was back on the plate.
Who had the audacity to call him during lunch? Whoever it was had better have a good reason or they'd be taking a long walk off a short pier. Though a bit extreme, the thought fueled by the growl in his stomach was only slightly exaggerated. Sighing again, he picked up the phone before it could ring a third time.
"Sarebbe meglio che questo sia importante" He spoke into the phone; voice lighter and softer than the words. Fist clenching, he fell into silence waiting for the answer. Was he cursed to forever sound as young as he looked?
"Forgive me Boss." The messenger spluttered into the phone. Vencenzio's face darkened with each word as the unfortunate man relayed his information. When the nervous soldier, who had undoubtedly drawn the shortest straw finished, Vencenzo’s usually cheerful expression had completely disappeared to be replaced by one of both barely controlled rage and mounting panic.
He hung up the phone without saying a word.
The petite Italian stood, clenching and un-clenching his fists. He glanced at his forgotten pasta, the dish represented the delusional thoughts he had had a moment ago. With his financial success had, of course, come more responsibility. Family. His reckless sister was always causing trouble. In a flash the plate was flung from his desk.
Momentarily he stared forlorn at the wasted meal, now only shards amidst sauce splattered against the wall and carpet.
What should he do, Vencenzo's thoughts ran circles as he paced. His sister Maria was supposed to have met with some new associates, but had never showed. He hadn't wanted her working anyway, but Maria had insisted she be of use. She had last been seen with an unknown woman entering the Gold Star hotel. That sleazy den of booze and prostitution wasn't one of theirs. What had his sister been doing there?
Vencenzo absentmindedly ran a hand through thick black locks. Whatever Maria had gotten herself into, Vencenzo would get her out. He reached for the phone and dialed his best capo and closest friend. Sure, he wasn't Sicilian or evern Italian, and that had caused a stir to say the least, but he got the job done and no one could argue with his results.
"Hallo" the German's clear voice sounded through the telephone.
"Hans, I need your talents today." Vencenzo flopped down into his leather chair and spun to face the window again, the handset cord wrapping around him as he turned.
"Of course!" Hans's voice dropped in concern. "Vennie," Using the nickname few were allowed to call the outfit's second hand man, his words rushed on. "Vennie, Vhat has happened? I can hear it in your voice, vhat is it?"
Vencenzo repeated the information he had been given as he attempted to untangle himself from the phone cord.
" 'Little Russia'...", Hans' musing was a mumble, "vhat vas she doing there..."
"I don't know..." Vencenzo trailed off, retrieving his handgun from the drawer beneath the phone. "But I need to find out. Meet me outside in thirty minutes."
"I vill be zhere in fifteen." The answer came before the other man had finished.
"Arrivederci" Vencenzo hung up the phone and smoothing his suit, he made sure there were no sauce stains. Without another look toward his wasted pasta, the petite mafioso made for the door confident he and Hans would find his sister, taking care of anyone in their way.
Vencenzo allowed a small smile to lighten his expression. It was always nice to see Hans; they had both been so busy lately. After they got Maria out of her current troubles he would see if his hardworking capo wanted to go out for a bite. Afterall, he hadn't gotten to finish his lunch.
...
Half an hour later the two mobsters stepped out of Hans' Audi parked in the rear of the questionable hotel where Maria had last been seen. The cold wind swirled in the alley as the two men slipped in the back unnoticed.
The tall broad shouldered blonde walked ahead of his shorter companion. Silently, they made their way through the lounge where girls giggled with their patrons, past the door that led to the speakeasy below. They continued until they neared a corner, around which the door of an office was visible, as was the gangly man who stood before it, armed with a machete.
Motioning for Vencenzo to say out of sight, Hans glanced round the corner toward the guard.
The German stepped around the corner and before his leading foot hit the ground he'd taken aim. The machete fell to the floor as the man grasped at his shoulder, eyes wide, he backed against the door. The capo crossed the hall in seconds and before the lanky guard could retrieve his weapon from the floor Hans' still smoking pistol was pressed hot against his forehead.
"Now, vhy don't you show me in to the owner of this establishment. Nice und easy, ja?"
His opponent was young; the man appeared as around his own age of twenty-one. Though in similar occupations, one set of blue eyes wavered with untested nerves, looking anywhere but into the other, cool and focused with practice.
Vencenzo stepped from around the corner and the guard's eyes narrowed first before widening further in recognition.
"V-veronesi! Miss Tatiana - She, she is not in!" The young man squirmed against the door.
"Oh? Ve vill see about that." Hans spoke in a low growl before pistol now down, one hand holding the other man’s collar, his foot met the wood of the office door. The guard jumped involuntarily as the door swung from its hinges behind him. The room was indeed empty. Hans dragged the man inside as Vencenzo followed behind him.
The capo threw the guard into the empty chair and tied his wrists to the arms before stepping back where the door had once stood. Vencenzo straightened the cuffs beneath his jacket and approached the other man.
"You were here earlier today." It was not a question, and the guard struggling in the chair knew it and so did not answer. Vencenzo continued walking circles around the man. "You saw my sister. You saw who she was with." He faced the bound man again and leaned in, inwardly relishing his rare height advantage. "Where is she now?"
The man stopped struggling but didn't answer. Vencenzo sighed. "Do not make this harder for yourself. It’s only business. Answer my questions and we will both be able to have a nice evening."
Still no reply.
Vencenzio glanced toward his old friend who took a step closer. "I really don't enjoy causing pain, but I love my sister. You have one more chance to tell me where she is."
Silence.
“I tried to make this easy for you." He motioned for Hans who took his place in front of the guard.
"You vill tell us everything ve vant to know." The other man shook his head, remaining silent though his eyes were wide as ever, glazing only slightly from the blood loss as red rivulets flowed down his arm to dot the rug below. Hans continued, cold blue eyes focused, "You vill." He turned toward Vencenzo, "I do not vant to make you lose your appetite Vennie."
The boss nodded and stepped outside the door, drawing the gun from beneath his jacket, he took up a place down the hall where he could keep an eye out should the proprietor return.
An hour later Vencenzo heard Hans's steps behind him, the heavy footfalls muffled slightly on carpet. He turned toward the tall blonde with a questioning look. Hans was wiping blood from his knuckles with a piece of striped cotton Vencenzo recognized as the same pattern as the guard's shirt.
"He is alive. Though it is up to Madam Sokolovskaya if he vill stay that vay."
Vencenzo glanced around Hans to the office. The guard was out cold, still tied to the chair, bloodied and bruised, his shirt torn and open. On his chest the words "I talked" read clear, written in what could only be the man's own blood.
As the mafiosi again made their way through the lounge, Hans whispered to Vencenzio.
"Maria vas here, but she didn't come on her own. The guard saw her as Natasha, the owner's sister, brought her in. According to him, she then left Maria in a car vhile she spoke vith a government agent." Hans continued as they got back in the car, "He overheard the man agreeing to have someone meet her on the river this evening at 5pm."
Vencenzo looked to his watch. They had two hours. He looked up at Hans as the blonde started the engine. "Good news then, no need to tell the boss unless we have a problem! Let's celebrate our new information with something hot before we get on the river. Caffe?"
Was that a sideways smile? He may not have said, but Vencenzio knew Hans had recently developed a serious love of caffè marocchino. The brunette relaxed in his seat, confident now that they would retrieve his sister and all would be well. His thoughts turned away from business and toward the espresso he would order as they drove downtown to his favorite coffee house.
….
As it neared five o'clock, a be-spectacled redhead waited aboard her rented boat. Shivering in the wind, agent Rose Scott pocketed her gloved hands as her thoughts wandered over her predicament. Intent on keeping an eye on her surroundings she fought the temptation toward the small quarters, instead staying at the bow while she waited for the woman who had contacted her colleagues at the Bureau of Investigation.
Yes, she mused, Chicago typified the idea of America as a melting-pot, a haven for all those oppressed, a place where one could pull themselves up by their bootstraps, chase the American dream and all that, her thoughts continued as she buried her hands further into her pockets, fingers warm in the shape of fists. However, here she was trying to clean up her city, no, her country, and this certain outfit thought themselves above the law. The mafia had to go, and all those working with them. That's why when she had been told about a foreign woman who said she had something that could help to eradicate the problem, Rose had been too intrigued to turn down the opportunity.
She only hoped it wasn't a trick. Looking toward the sunset, she watched as pink rays lit the clouds above, the smell of threatening frost unmistakable in the air.
She didn't have to wait long. Her gaze was drawn from the sky toward the sound of an engine as a small motorboat appeared around the bend, fast approaching. Two women, one short and thin with long light hazelnut brown hair, and the other, tall and clutching a cloche atop her blonde bob, stood with a blindfolded and gagged brunette between them.
Rose went to help her guests aboard. The long haired one brushed off her attempt and pulled herself up with surprising strength for her small frame, while the other accepted her help with a smile. Once all were aboard, Rose gestured toward the cabin and they went inside away from prying eyes.
Once inside, the federal agent turned to the other women. "So, you've got a solution to our crime problem?"
The long haired one stood up proudly, introducing herself in an unmistakable Russian accent, "I am Natasha, this is my sister Tatiana. I propose to you,” Slate grey eyes made contact with Rose’s blue as she paused with a slight smile. “that we help get rid of your Italian troubles." She gestured toward the woman slumped in a chair, garbled curse words coming out from around the gag.
"In return, you and your B.O.I see to it that my family is given freedom to establish our own businesses here in your city. We're much, much, more polite." She smiled wide and it brought the image of a wolf about to attack his prey to Rose's mind. Still smiling predatorily, her gaze slid to her sister Tatiana who was determinedly looking out the window.
"Uh..huh." Realization dawned on Rose. "Natasha… you're Aleksandr Sokolovski's sisters!" No, that wasn’t right…She paused for a moment before first pointing to the taller and then shorter of the women on either side of the struggling, cursing Sicilian. “No, wait…sister...and cousin, right?”
She laughed then and knew what they were getting at. "It's a bit of a difficult time at home right now isn't it?" When neither answered she continued. "Does Aleksandr even know you're here?" Tatiana looked uncomfortable, Natasha looked murderous.
"I know what is in my cousin’s best interests! He's too busy right now to think about the world of opportunities outside Russia." She continued closing the distance between them dangerously. "I know he will want to take advantage of them. He will be glad I am here doing good for him." She sounded completely insane to Rose who backed up and clearing her throat, changed the subject away from the man she had met years ago, for so short a time. The man whose file her fingers could find from memory, in the cabinet beside her desk.
"Uh, so you gonna introduce me to your, um, friend?" she eyed the brunette still blindfolded and gagged in the chair.
"Of course," Natasha said silkily, as she strode back behind the chair and in one flourish pulled the blindfold from the captive's face.
Maria blinked in the light and staggered a bit as she stood, but once upright, she continued her string of both Italian and English swearing from around the gag. "I present to you," Natasha continued, "Maria Veronesi!"
Brow knitting in confusion for a moment, Rose looked into each of the three women’s faces. Natasha’s pride, Maria’s loathing glare, and Tatiana, clearly wanting nothing of the situation. The redhead made a mental note of the blonde’s expression; maybe this Ms. Sokolovskaya would prove more cooperative with the law; clearly the cousin would have to be watched, Maybe the sister could be trusted.
This thought hidden by the movement of her hand tucking strands of hair behind her ear, she continued, returning her focus to Natasha.
“What,” Rose began, as she leaned back against the small table rocking with the movement of the river, “would I want with Maria Veronesi?” The agent’s eyes met the mafiosa’s. “What good does she do me?”
“What good?!” Natasha was face to face with Rose again, “What good is she?” Wide slate eyes looked wild with incredulity. “Use her to get to her brother. Use her to get him to tell you everything; all you have to do is threaten him. Hold her until he talks!”
Rose stood for a moment staring at the scene before her. She had seen far more than she wanted of Vencenzo’s face. The babyfaced criminal flaunted his apparent immunity to justice everyday. Each time Rose had something on him, evidence or a witness would disappear. However much she’d like to get Mr. Veronesi in her custody, she didn’t currently have enough on him, and the bureau certainly couldn’t just kidnap a woman to get her brother to confess to his crimes; they’d be no better than the men they aimed to put away.
Nevermind the fact that if she went through with Natasha’s ridiculous proposal, any confessions Vencenzio made would be made in duress and completely inadmissible. He’d walk just like he always did.
“Ms. Sokolovskaya,” Rose pressed a finger to the shorter woman’s shoulder, giving her a few inches of space, “I don’t think you quite understand the way the law works around here.”
Walking pointedly away from the seething Russian, the agent instead came face to face with the Italian woman glaring daggers, now silent.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have any evidence tying Maria here to any crimes.” Wishing very much that she had, Rose never the less knew she’d wasted the last few hours; the only information she’d gleaned from her time on the frigid river was that she should be looking out for yet a new mob to arise if Natasha had her way. Still facing Vencenzo’s sister, Rose let out a light scoff as she wondered if there was any use trying to take the woman in for questioning..again. “And I know by now, she won’t talk a word against her brother. Isn’t that right, Maria?”
At the same moment that Maria struggled, Tatiana looked stricken, Natasha radiated loathing at her mistake, and Rose wondered what she was going to do with this situation, shots suddenly rang out across the river, wood splintering and flying in shards as bullets ripped through the side of the boat.
"Get down!" the agent yelled to the other women, as she rushed to pull Tatiana down, taking out her weapon as she did so. Natasha had instantly ducked behind a chair, and however ineffectual against a hail of bullets, was already retrieving a pair of daggers from ribbon laced boots.
Maria took her chance. Though her legs were tied at the knees and her wrists behind her back, kicking off her heels, she staggered stiltedly toward the open window overlooking the river. If she was wrong, and it wasn't her brother, she'd be shot.
Her gamble paid off. The gunfire stopped at her appearance in the window. Looking down into the deck of her little brother's yacht, the mafiosa tried to grin around the gag, and before her captors or the federal agent could stop her, she threw herself head first out the window to flip and land on her back in familiar territory.
Still firing up into the boat, Vencenzo rushed to his sister as Hans gunned the engine and they pulled away leaving nothing but foam and spray in their wake.
Note: Sarebbe meglio che questo sia importante = It would be best that this is important
I've gotten some lovely reading materials for research!
So, I thought this post would be all about my historical fiction work, 1920 Interbellum (working title) which is currently nearly done and going through edits as I finish the final chapters. I think I'll have it finished by January 2013.
It's only due to Abby's prodding that ANYONE knows about this little work in progress that is now up to 600ish pages.
Here's the teeny blurb again:
The story of Vencenzo, a young "man of honor" and his complex world of family, enemies and forbidden love. Set in prohibition era Chicago amidst a world of speakeasys, opium dens, and brothels. A novel. (1st of perhaps 3 tales of Vennie's life)
Would you like to get to know the main characters? Read a bit of the story?
Main Characters of
1920 Interbellum in 5 words.
(all important family relationships in itallics)
- I'll edit this when home with some character sketches added.-
(all important family relationships in itallics)
- I'll edit this when home with some character sketches added.-
Vencenzo Veronesi
Young
Only Son
Determined
Sensitive
Underboss
Maria Veronesi
Strong
Big sister
Reckless
Passionate
Stubborn
Hans von Blau
Loyal
Fatalistic
Soldier
Romantic
Conflicted
(Brother to Uli)
Uli von Blau
Wild
Big Brother
Playboy
Religious
Generous
Rose Scott
"Fed"
Suffragette
Courageous
Friendly
Idealist
(twin sister to Josephine, and sister to Jon)
Josephine Scott
Scholar
Brave
Cautious
Linguist
Worrier
Alexandr Sokolovski
Heir
Soldier
Revolutionary
Disillusionment
Hopeful
(Brother to Tatiana, Cousin to Natasha)
Tatiana Sokolovskaya
Business Woman
Lady
Capitalist
Big Sister
Fearful
Natasha Sokolovskaya
Tradition
Aristocrat
Beauty
Ambitious
Angry
Soledad Cavellieri
Intense
Old Friend
Devoted
Killer
Wife
(Sister of Guillermo)
Giovanni Cavallieri
Lawyer
Reserved
Husband
Unforgiving
Exonerated
Nicola Armenio
Tested
Soldier
Wary
Honor
Lefty
Guillermo Delarosa
Faithfull
Willing
Long distance
Gullible
Sentimental
William Stuart
Doctor
Unpredictable
Loner
Opium
Gamble
(Estranged)
Christine De St.
Clair
Traveler
Performer
Vengeance
Mother
Focused
(you'll see.)
Jonathon Scott
Big brother
Pilot
Diligent
Impulsive
Deceased
Want to read a snippet? Here's a little something from what you can call the beginning, though there is a bit of a backstory. As you may imagine this is 1920 and WWI is a not so distant memory, effecting some characters more than others. Maybe I'll post it up too if there's interest?
1920. Chicago.
A chill wind blew past the windows of the top story penthouse apartment. A babyfaced brunette sat at his desk enjoying his favorite dish, a heaping plate of spaghetti bolognaise. It was December and this had been a very good year. Prohibition had perhaps been the best thing to happen to him. Content, Vencenzo Veronesi swirled the long noodles on his fork and prepared to take another bite.
However, before the fork could reach his lips, peaceful silence was broken by the shrill ringing of the phone which sat inches from his meal.
With a sigh, the perfectly twirled bite was back on the plate.
Who had the audacity to call him during lunch? Whoever it was had better have a good reason or they'd be taking a long walk off a short pier. Though a bit extreme, the thought fueled by the growl in his stomach was only slightly exaggerated. Sighing again, he picked up the phone before it could ring a third time.
"Sarebbe meglio che questo sia importante" He spoke into the phone; voice lighter and softer than the words. Fist clenching, he fell into silence waiting for the answer. Was he cursed to forever sound as young as he looked?
"Forgive me Boss." The messenger spluttered into the phone. Vencenzio's face darkened with each word as the unfortunate man relayed his information. When the nervous soldier, who had undoubtedly drawn the shortest straw finished, Vencenzo’s usually cheerful expression had completely disappeared to be replaced by one of both barely controlled rage and mounting panic.
He hung up the phone without saying a word.
The petite Italian stood, clenching and un-clenching his fists. He glanced at his forgotten pasta, the dish represented the delusional thoughts he had had a moment ago. With his financial success had, of course, come more responsibility. Family. His reckless sister was always causing trouble. In a flash the plate was flung from his desk.
Momentarily he stared forlorn at the wasted meal, now only shards amidst sauce splattered against the wall and carpet.
What should he do, Vencenzo's thoughts ran circles as he paced. His sister Maria was supposed to have met with some new associates, but had never showed. He hadn't wanted her working anyway, but Maria had insisted she be of use. She had last been seen with an unknown woman entering the Gold Star hotel. That sleazy den of booze and prostitution wasn't one of theirs. What had his sister been doing there?
Vencenzo absentmindedly ran a hand through thick black locks. Whatever Maria had gotten herself into, Vencenzo would get her out. He reached for the phone and dialed his best capo and closest friend. Sure, he wasn't Sicilian or evern Italian, and that had caused a stir to say the least, but he got the job done and no one could argue with his results.
"Hallo" the German's clear voice sounded through the telephone.
"Hans, I need your talents today." Vencenzo flopped down into his leather chair and spun to face the window again, the handset cord wrapping around him as he turned.
"Of course!" Hans's voice dropped in concern. "Vennie," Using the nickname few were allowed to call the outfit's second hand man, his words rushed on. "Vennie, Vhat has happened? I can hear it in your voice, vhat is it?"
Vencenzo repeated the information he had been given as he attempted to untangle himself from the phone cord.
" 'Little Russia'...", Hans' musing was a mumble, "vhat vas she doing there..."
"I don't know..." Vencenzo trailed off, retrieving his handgun from the drawer beneath the phone. "But I need to find out. Meet me outside in thirty minutes."
"I vill be zhere in fifteen." The answer came before the other man had finished.
"Arrivederci" Vencenzo hung up the phone and smoothing his suit, he made sure there were no sauce stains. Without another look toward his wasted pasta, the petite mafioso made for the door confident he and Hans would find his sister, taking care of anyone in their way.
Vencenzo allowed a small smile to lighten his expression. It was always nice to see Hans; they had both been so busy lately. After they got Maria out of her current troubles he would see if his hardworking capo wanted to go out for a bite. Afterall, he hadn't gotten to finish his lunch.
...
Half an hour later the two mobsters stepped out of Hans' Audi parked in the rear of the questionable hotel where Maria had last been seen. The cold wind swirled in the alley as the two men slipped in the back unnoticed.
The tall broad shouldered blonde walked ahead of his shorter companion. Silently, they made their way through the lounge where girls giggled with their patrons, past the door that led to the speakeasy below. They continued until they neared a corner, around which the door of an office was visible, as was the gangly man who stood before it, armed with a machete.
Motioning for Vencenzo to say out of sight, Hans glanced round the corner toward the guard.
The German stepped around the corner and before his leading foot hit the ground he'd taken aim. The machete fell to the floor as the man grasped at his shoulder, eyes wide, he backed against the door. The capo crossed the hall in seconds and before the lanky guard could retrieve his weapon from the floor Hans' still smoking pistol was pressed hot against his forehead.
"Now, vhy don't you show me in to the owner of this establishment. Nice und easy, ja?"
His opponent was young; the man appeared as around his own age of twenty-one. Though in similar occupations, one set of blue eyes wavered with untested nerves, looking anywhere but into the other, cool and focused with practice.
Vencenzo stepped from around the corner and the guard's eyes narrowed first before widening further in recognition.
"V-veronesi! Miss Tatiana - She, she is not in!" The young man squirmed against the door.
"Oh? Ve vill see about that." Hans spoke in a low growl before pistol now down, one hand holding the other man’s collar, his foot met the wood of the office door. The guard jumped involuntarily as the door swung from its hinges behind him. The room was indeed empty. Hans dragged the man inside as Vencenzo followed behind him.
The capo threw the guard into the empty chair and tied his wrists to the arms before stepping back where the door had once stood. Vencenzo straightened the cuffs beneath his jacket and approached the other man.
"You were here earlier today." It was not a question, and the guard struggling in the chair knew it and so did not answer. Vencenzo continued walking circles around the man. "You saw my sister. You saw who she was with." He faced the bound man again and leaned in, inwardly relishing his rare height advantage. "Where is she now?"
The man stopped struggling but didn't answer. Vencenzo sighed. "Do not make this harder for yourself. It’s only business. Answer my questions and we will both be able to have a nice evening."
Still no reply.
Vencenzio glanced toward his old friend who took a step closer. "I really don't enjoy causing pain, but I love my sister. You have one more chance to tell me where she is."
Silence.
“I tried to make this easy for you." He motioned for Hans who took his place in front of the guard.
"You vill tell us everything ve vant to know." The other man shook his head, remaining silent though his eyes were wide as ever, glazing only slightly from the blood loss as red rivulets flowed down his arm to dot the rug below. Hans continued, cold blue eyes focused, "You vill." He turned toward Vencenzo, "I do not vant to make you lose your appetite Vennie."
The boss nodded and stepped outside the door, drawing the gun from beneath his jacket, he took up a place down the hall where he could keep an eye out should the proprietor return.
An hour later Vencenzo heard Hans's steps behind him, the heavy footfalls muffled slightly on carpet. He turned toward the tall blonde with a questioning look. Hans was wiping blood from his knuckles with a piece of striped cotton Vencenzo recognized as the same pattern as the guard's shirt.
"He is alive. Though it is up to Madam Sokolovskaya if he vill stay that vay."
Vencenzo glanced around Hans to the office. The guard was out cold, still tied to the chair, bloodied and bruised, his shirt torn and open. On his chest the words "I talked" read clear, written in what could only be the man's own blood.
As the mafiosi again made their way through the lounge, Hans whispered to Vencenzio.
"Maria vas here, but she didn't come on her own. The guard saw her as Natasha, the owner's sister, brought her in. According to him, she then left Maria in a car vhile she spoke vith a government agent." Hans continued as they got back in the car, "He overheard the man agreeing to have someone meet her on the river this evening at 5pm."
Vencenzo looked to his watch. They had two hours. He looked up at Hans as the blonde started the engine. "Good news then, no need to tell the boss unless we have a problem! Let's celebrate our new information with something hot before we get on the river. Caffe?"
Was that a sideways smile? He may not have said, but Vencenzio knew Hans had recently developed a serious love of caffè marocchino. The brunette relaxed in his seat, confident now that they would retrieve his sister and all would be well. His thoughts turned away from business and toward the espresso he would order as they drove downtown to his favorite coffee house.
….
As it neared five o'clock, a be-spectacled redhead waited aboard her rented boat. Shivering in the wind, agent Rose Scott pocketed her gloved hands as her thoughts wandered over her predicament. Intent on keeping an eye on her surroundings she fought the temptation toward the small quarters, instead staying at the bow while she waited for the woman who had contacted her colleagues at the Bureau of Investigation.
Yes, she mused, Chicago typified the idea of America as a melting-pot, a haven for all those oppressed, a place where one could pull themselves up by their bootstraps, chase the American dream and all that, her thoughts continued as she buried her hands further into her pockets, fingers warm in the shape of fists. However, here she was trying to clean up her city, no, her country, and this certain outfit thought themselves above the law. The mafia had to go, and all those working with them. That's why when she had been told about a foreign woman who said she had something that could help to eradicate the problem, Rose had been too intrigued to turn down the opportunity.
She only hoped it wasn't a trick. Looking toward the sunset, she watched as pink rays lit the clouds above, the smell of threatening frost unmistakable in the air.
She didn't have to wait long. Her gaze was drawn from the sky toward the sound of an engine as a small motorboat appeared around the bend, fast approaching. Two women, one short and thin with long light hazelnut brown hair, and the other, tall and clutching a cloche atop her blonde bob, stood with a blindfolded and gagged brunette between them.
Rose went to help her guests aboard. The long haired one brushed off her attempt and pulled herself up with surprising strength for her small frame, while the other accepted her help with a smile. Once all were aboard, Rose gestured toward the cabin and they went inside away from prying eyes.
Once inside, the federal agent turned to the other women. "So, you've got a solution to our crime problem?"
The long haired one stood up proudly, introducing herself in an unmistakable Russian accent, "I am Natasha, this is my sister Tatiana. I propose to you,” Slate grey eyes made contact with Rose’s blue as she paused with a slight smile. “that we help get rid of your Italian troubles." She gestured toward the woman slumped in a chair, garbled curse words coming out from around the gag.
"In return, you and your B.O.I see to it that my family is given freedom to establish our own businesses here in your city. We're much, much, more polite." She smiled wide and it brought the image of a wolf about to attack his prey to Rose's mind. Still smiling predatorily, her gaze slid to her sister Tatiana who was determinedly looking out the window.
"Uh..huh." Realization dawned on Rose. "Natasha… you're Aleksandr Sokolovski's sisters!" No, that wasn’t right…She paused for a moment before first pointing to the taller and then shorter of the women on either side of the struggling, cursing Sicilian. “No, wait…sister...and cousin, right?”
She laughed then and knew what they were getting at. "It's a bit of a difficult time at home right now isn't it?" When neither answered she continued. "Does Aleksandr even know you're here?" Tatiana looked uncomfortable, Natasha looked murderous.
"I know what is in my cousin’s best interests! He's too busy right now to think about the world of opportunities outside Russia." She continued closing the distance between them dangerously. "I know he will want to take advantage of them. He will be glad I am here doing good for him." She sounded completely insane to Rose who backed up and clearing her throat, changed the subject away from the man she had met years ago, for so short a time. The man whose file her fingers could find from memory, in the cabinet beside her desk.
"Uh, so you gonna introduce me to your, um, friend?" she eyed the brunette still blindfolded and gagged in the chair.
"Of course," Natasha said silkily, as she strode back behind the chair and in one flourish pulled the blindfold from the captive's face.
Maria blinked in the light and staggered a bit as she stood, but once upright, she continued her string of both Italian and English swearing from around the gag. "I present to you," Natasha continued, "Maria Veronesi!"
Brow knitting in confusion for a moment, Rose looked into each of the three women’s faces. Natasha’s pride, Maria’s loathing glare, and Tatiana, clearly wanting nothing of the situation. The redhead made a mental note of the blonde’s expression; maybe this Ms. Sokolovskaya would prove more cooperative with the law; clearly the cousin would have to be watched, Maybe the sister could be trusted.
This thought hidden by the movement of her hand tucking strands of hair behind her ear, she continued, returning her focus to Natasha.
“What,” Rose began, as she leaned back against the small table rocking with the movement of the river, “would I want with Maria Veronesi?” The agent’s eyes met the mafiosa’s. “What good does she do me?”
“What good?!” Natasha was face to face with Rose again, “What good is she?” Wide slate eyes looked wild with incredulity. “Use her to get to her brother. Use her to get him to tell you everything; all you have to do is threaten him. Hold her until he talks!”
Rose stood for a moment staring at the scene before her. She had seen far more than she wanted of Vencenzo’s face. The babyfaced criminal flaunted his apparent immunity to justice everyday. Each time Rose had something on him, evidence or a witness would disappear. However much she’d like to get Mr. Veronesi in her custody, she didn’t currently have enough on him, and the bureau certainly couldn’t just kidnap a woman to get her brother to confess to his crimes; they’d be no better than the men they aimed to put away.
Nevermind the fact that if she went through with Natasha’s ridiculous proposal, any confessions Vencenzio made would be made in duress and completely inadmissible. He’d walk just like he always did.
“Ms. Sokolovskaya,” Rose pressed a finger to the shorter woman’s shoulder, giving her a few inches of space, “I don’t think you quite understand the way the law works around here.”
Walking pointedly away from the seething Russian, the agent instead came face to face with the Italian woman glaring daggers, now silent.
“Unfortunately, I don’t have any evidence tying Maria here to any crimes.” Wishing very much that she had, Rose never the less knew she’d wasted the last few hours; the only information she’d gleaned from her time on the frigid river was that she should be looking out for yet a new mob to arise if Natasha had her way. Still facing Vencenzo’s sister, Rose let out a light scoff as she wondered if there was any use trying to take the woman in for questioning..again. “And I know by now, she won’t talk a word against her brother. Isn’t that right, Maria?”
At the same moment that Maria struggled, Tatiana looked stricken, Natasha radiated loathing at her mistake, and Rose wondered what she was going to do with this situation, shots suddenly rang out across the river, wood splintering and flying in shards as bullets ripped through the side of the boat.
"Get down!" the agent yelled to the other women, as she rushed to pull Tatiana down, taking out her weapon as she did so. Natasha had instantly ducked behind a chair, and however ineffectual against a hail of bullets, was already retrieving a pair of daggers from ribbon laced boots.
Maria took her chance. Though her legs were tied at the knees and her wrists behind her back, kicking off her heels, she staggered stiltedly toward the open window overlooking the river. If she was wrong, and it wasn't her brother, she'd be shot.
Her gamble paid off. The gunfire stopped at her appearance in the window. Looking down into the deck of her little brother's yacht, the mafiosa tried to grin around the gag, and before her captors or the federal agent could stop her, she threw herself head first out the window to flip and land on her back in familiar territory.
Still firing up into the boat, Vencenzo rushed to his sister as Hans gunned the engine and they pulled away leaving nothing but foam and spray in their wake.
Note: Sarebbe meglio che questo sia importante = It would be best that this is important
post more! also, your ability to name characters amazes me! love the character write ups and opening. I cannot wait to read more!
ReplyDeleteAh!~!! Thanks so much!!!! I will post more up next month.:) I can tell you the whole story when you come up tomorrow!! I'll be catching up on your blog entries after work (you consistant person!) XD
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you liked it.