Page 51
Story: Code Name: Michelangelo
The image on the first screen changed from the view of Pen and Flick to an alleyway. I watched as a single woman was led from a door to a waiting SUV. While she wasn’t bound that I could see, she was accompanied by two men, and her attire was scant.
“May I?” I asked.
Sundance nodded once, and I rewound the footage, then zoomed in to take a closer look. While she appeared subdued, her hair and makeup were done and there were no visible signs of abuse.
I returned to the live version and watched as overhead coverage tracked the vehicle. Once it pulled out of the alley and onto main streets, I knew I was looking at Tropea. I also knew where the woman was being taken.
“She’ll be passed around tonight,” said Sundance. “Then auctioned to the highest bidder.”
Had he asked what I predicted would happen, I would’ve said something similar.
“Pay close attention now,” he said when the SUV pulled up to a compound. “Do your job right, and you will soon be on the inside, where we currently have ears but no eyes.”
If we could hear but not see, it was because no one had been able to plant devices. Clearly, that would be one of my objectives.
He darkened the boards and turned to face me. “Tell me about your experience with the Calabrians.”
I was sure he’d been thoroughly briefed on everything that happened prior to my incarceration; however, he obviously wanted to hear it directly from me, so I started at the beginning.
“Two things happened when I graduated from college. First, I found out the identity of my biological father. Second, that he’d set up a trust fund for me worth millions.”
I explained how all that affected my psyche, and the self-destructive behavior that followed.
“I ultimately forged a relationship with the Sicilian mafia and spearheaded their increased foray into art forgeries.” I had no doubt he was well aware that stolen art was being used as a commodity, so I skipped that part.
“While my association with the organization was tenuous at best, the real trouble began when I ventured deeper into theft on my own, bypassing them to sell the forgeries.”
Sundance had nodded several times, indicating he was listening, but hadn’t spoken.
“God knows how long that would’ve gone on and what would’ve happened to me if I hadn’t made a misstep that should’ve gotten me killed.”
“You sold one of your forgeries directly to the Calabrian Syndicate’s capomandamento.”
Also known as the don. “That’s right. Almost getting my sister, father, and myself killed.”
“Until Doc stepped in.” Sundance brushed his lower lip with his finger, but I could still see his grin.
“To save Tara and, I suppose, my father. If I had been on my own, I’d be a dead man.”
“How’d you walk away alive?”
“First, I was rescued. Second, a deal was made with the don. In exchange for my life, as it were, I would give him the original of the stolen painting he’d purchased, plus a second of a higher value.”
“The originals were hidden in wine caves. Is that right?”
“At the estate where my sister was staying.”
Thinking back on it, talking about it, made me sick. It was one thing to have so little regard for my own life or that of my father. Dragging her into it, whether intentionally or not, should be unforgivable. That she still wanted to have anything to do with me spoke to the kind of person she was. It had nothing to do with me. And if Tara had refused to forgive me, Penelope would never have spoken to me again, either.
The only thing I could promise to do was never put Tara, Penelope, or anyone else in the line of danger again.
But wasn’t that exactly what I was doing? Just being with me at the auction house put Pen at risk, especially knowing how much ground the Calabrians had gained in human trafficking. No doubt the same would be true for the Sicilians.
I had to convince everyone involved to abandon the first part of the proposed mission. I’d find another way to get my hands on additional forged pieces and then determine who’d done them and which of the syndicates they worked for. There was no need to involve Penelope, and more, I’d refuse all of it until I was sure she was no longer involved.
“They won’t hesitate to take her.”
I nodded, knowing Sundance meant Pen and that, once again, he was reading me like a book. “My thoughts precisely,” I responded.
“May I?” I asked.
Sundance nodded once, and I rewound the footage, then zoomed in to take a closer look. While she appeared subdued, her hair and makeup were done and there were no visible signs of abuse.
I returned to the live version and watched as overhead coverage tracked the vehicle. Once it pulled out of the alley and onto main streets, I knew I was looking at Tropea. I also knew where the woman was being taken.
“She’ll be passed around tonight,” said Sundance. “Then auctioned to the highest bidder.”
Had he asked what I predicted would happen, I would’ve said something similar.
“Pay close attention now,” he said when the SUV pulled up to a compound. “Do your job right, and you will soon be on the inside, where we currently have ears but no eyes.”
If we could hear but not see, it was because no one had been able to plant devices. Clearly, that would be one of my objectives.
He darkened the boards and turned to face me. “Tell me about your experience with the Calabrians.”
I was sure he’d been thoroughly briefed on everything that happened prior to my incarceration; however, he obviously wanted to hear it directly from me, so I started at the beginning.
“Two things happened when I graduated from college. First, I found out the identity of my biological father. Second, that he’d set up a trust fund for me worth millions.”
I explained how all that affected my psyche, and the self-destructive behavior that followed.
“I ultimately forged a relationship with the Sicilian mafia and spearheaded their increased foray into art forgeries.” I had no doubt he was well aware that stolen art was being used as a commodity, so I skipped that part.
“While my association with the organization was tenuous at best, the real trouble began when I ventured deeper into theft on my own, bypassing them to sell the forgeries.”
Sundance had nodded several times, indicating he was listening, but hadn’t spoken.
“God knows how long that would’ve gone on and what would’ve happened to me if I hadn’t made a misstep that should’ve gotten me killed.”
“You sold one of your forgeries directly to the Calabrian Syndicate’s capomandamento.”
Also known as the don. “That’s right. Almost getting my sister, father, and myself killed.”
“Until Doc stepped in.” Sundance brushed his lower lip with his finger, but I could still see his grin.
“To save Tara and, I suppose, my father. If I had been on my own, I’d be a dead man.”
“How’d you walk away alive?”
“First, I was rescued. Second, a deal was made with the don. In exchange for my life, as it were, I would give him the original of the stolen painting he’d purchased, plus a second of a higher value.”
“The originals were hidden in wine caves. Is that right?”
“At the estate where my sister was staying.”
Thinking back on it, talking about it, made me sick. It was one thing to have so little regard for my own life or that of my father. Dragging her into it, whether intentionally or not, should be unforgivable. That she still wanted to have anything to do with me spoke to the kind of person she was. It had nothing to do with me. And if Tara had refused to forgive me, Penelope would never have spoken to me again, either.
The only thing I could promise to do was never put Tara, Penelope, or anyone else in the line of danger again.
But wasn’t that exactly what I was doing? Just being with me at the auction house put Pen at risk, especially knowing how much ground the Calabrians had gained in human trafficking. No doubt the same would be true for the Sicilians.
I had to convince everyone involved to abandon the first part of the proposed mission. I’d find another way to get my hands on additional forged pieces and then determine who’d done them and which of the syndicates they worked for. There was no need to involve Penelope, and more, I’d refuse all of it until I was sure she was no longer involved.
“They won’t hesitate to take her.”
I nodded, knowing Sundance meant Pen and that, once again, he was reading me like a book. “My thoughts precisely,” I responded.
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