Page 39 of Dark Breaker

The stall is struck again and this time it gives. The door swings inward, slamming into the wall next to the toilet. I look at my two attackers. They’re of Arab-Berber descent.

Tunisians.

I point the Mace but before I can spray it the closest attacker swats it from my hands. Then they haul me kicking and screaming from the stall. The first one takes my phone and smashes it against the sink countertop. Then they carry me toward the hopper window, which is located close to the ceiling. The bottom-pivoting pane is open, and seems to line up with ground level outside, because I spot another Tunisian waiting there, kneeling.

They transfer me up to him. I struggle the whole time, but he succeeds in pulling me out. I lose my shoes in the process.

When I feel the ground beneath my feet, I stand up and punch him in the face. It’s not a punch that packs much force, but it’s enough to unbalance him, and he lets me go.

But then another Tunisian comes at me from the side and drags me backward. I struggle against him, screaming the whole time.

I hear the muted sound of silencer bullets coming from the bathroom. A moment later blood spurts from the face of the Tunisian I punched.

“Bi-syrah-teh, bi-syrah-teh!” my captor shouts.

Tires squeal and a black SUV pulls up. The back sliding door swings open. I know if I get in that vehicle, I’m dead.

With all my weight I shift sideways and downwards; I manage to pull my captor down with me. He hauls me upright, aided by two men from the SUV.

I sense motion to my right. A man in a black suit calmly walks forward with his pistol raised. I hear the high-pitched whine of a silencer. It fires once, twice, three times. All three men drop to the pavement around me.

The SUV speeds off. The silencer fires again, twice more, but the vehicle gets away.

I rip myself out from under the dead body of my captor and clamber to my feet to face my rescuer. It’s Fabio.

I want to hug him or thank him, but the steel in his eyes holds me back. Well, that and the handgun he’s still holding.

When he notices my gaze, he lowers his weapon and shoves it away inside his jacket. He turns toward me. “Are you all right?” I think I see genuine concern in his eyes for once.

I nod, unable to say anything. I glance toward the bathroom window behind me. I spot Massimo peering outside; he ducks from view. So my rescue was a team effort.

“Why did the Tunisians just try to kidnap me?” I ask.

“It seems the Jackal wants to piss me off,” Fabio replies.

The Jackal. Even I’ve heard of him. Leader of the Tunisians. As ruthless as he is intelligence. Under his guidance, the Tunisians have risen to control the entire southern quarter of the city, along with several smaller villages along the outskirts, forcing out other mafia families along the way. He’s feared by most of the lesser families. For good reason.

“Did it work?” I ask. “Are you sufficiently pissed off?”

He looks at me. “What do you think?” The contempt momentarily returns to his eyes, but then immediately softens. “You seem… unfazed by what just happened.”

“Oh I’m fazed all right,” I tell him. “Though it’ll probably hit me late at night when I’m lying in bed and I realize I almost died today.”

“You’re an interesting person, Rosa,” he tells me. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

“What about the fundraiser?” I press.

He shrugs. “It’ll continue. They wouldn’t have heard our bullets above the general chatter.”

“But won’t the cops be coming?” I gaze at the apartments that border the road on either side. I see people watching from their balconies.

“My brother will deal with them,” Fabio assures me. “The fundraiser will go on.”

Massimo and my brothers rush outside along with Angela, who gives me a hug.

“Are you all right?” Angela asks.

“Yes,” I tell her. “Though they smashed my phone.”