Page 29 of Marcellus: House of Drakos

With a couple of their men from grounds security, and Marcellus’s driver and bodyguard, Scottie and Marcellus hopped into an SUV that sped down a long back driveway that led to a back guarded gate that opened for them.

Then they drove away completely undetected by the horde of reporters camped out at Marcellus’s front gate.

They all wore uniforms and ballcaps strategically placed down low on their foreheads to disguise their appearances.

Marcellus’s driver and bodyguard were on the front row.

Marcellus and Scottie, armed to the teeth, were on the middle row.

And the two other guards, also armed to the teeth, were on the back row. It was a long drive over to the bar.

And a quiet one too. Scottie kept looking at his father.

He didn’t want him on this assignment, because he felt responsible for him, but how could he stop a train hellbent on coming anyway?

But he still felt a need to get one thing straight.

“On this assignment,” he said to his father, “I’m in charge.

This is my lane, not yours. Are we clear on that, Pop? ”

Marcellus didn’t respond, which Scottie figured he wouldn’t. But since he wasn’t going to respond to anything he asked, he decided to go for broke. “That lady back there at the house, that Savannah? What’s her deal?” he asked him.

Marcellus looked at him with that why are you bothering me look he used to give him as a kid. It used to break his heart.

But to his shock, his father actually responded to him. “I met her eight years ago,” he said. “At Niko’s.”

Scottie waited for more of an explanation, but none came. He wanted to ask more, but they didn’t have that kind of relationship. And silence returned.

It was a welcomed relief for Scottie when they finally arrived on Saudie Street.

Their driver pulled over and stopped at the first of the two detail cars.

The detail chief, on the passenger side of the first car, pressed down his window.

Scottie pressed down his window. “We’ll go in around back,” Scottie said.

“I want both cars to wait here. If you see a chase, follow us.”

“Got it, boss,” his chief said, and then Scottie nodded for his father’s driver to drive around to the back of the bar.

The SUV stopped at the door with DELIVERIES written on it.

Scottie, Marcellus, and the two guards jumped out and grabbed boxes of whatever Freddy provided from the servants’ quarters.

With their weapons concealed and the boxes hiding half of their faces, while the caps hid the other half, they went to the back door. Scottie knocked vigorously.

The door was opened by an angry-looking bodyguard. “What do you want?”

“Deliveries,” said Scottie.

“Not today. Come back tomorrow,” the guard said and was about to close the door in their faces.

But Scottie placed his big foot in the doorway, covered the guy’s mouth with his meaty hand, and then headbutted him so hard that it knocked the guard completely out.

Scottie tossed him outside and then he, his father, and the two guards all ran into the bar.

Following Savannah’s instructions, the group, led by Scottie, ran down the hall and then Scottie opened the door to the broom closet.

He knew time was not their friend and that the element of surprise would only work in seconds, not minutes.

He then quickly pressed the button on the left side of the wall and a door popped open.

As soon as it did, he took his arm and slammed his father’s body against the wall alongside his own body as gunfire erupted from the room. The guards then ran in ahead of Scottie and Marcellus, shooting as they ran, but then they heard doors slamming.

“They’re getting away!” one of the guards yelled and Scottie and Marcellus ran behind the guards as they all ran through the room toward a back exit.

Marcellus was looking to see if there was any evidence that his son had been in that room. When he saw no such evidence, his heart grew faint, but he hurried behind Scottie.

When they ran out back, a van that had been parked a few feet ahead of their SUV, was speeding away.

Marcellus’s driver sped up to the boss, Scottie ordered the driver to get in the back as Marcellus and the two guards were getting in.

Scottie got behind the steering wheel and floored it as he followed that van. No way was he losing that van.

By the time they got onto Saudie Street, the chase was on.

The two detail cars filed in behind the SUV as they raced through the streets of Chicago with a recklessness Marcellus wasn’t accustomed to.

But Scottie was accustomed to it. He lived for it.

He was in his element. And he was gunning that accelerator.

For several blocks they weaved in and out of traffic and drove through highways and side streets all the same: as fast as they could manage. Until they turned onto one side street and the backdoor of the cargo van they were chasing suddenly was kicked open.

That was when they saw Niko, with his hands and feet chained and his mouth covered. But he had somehow managed to kick open that door.

When Marcellus saw his son, and that he was still alive, his heart leaped for joy. But he was still in a tough spot.

“Cover me!” Marcellus yelled as he pressed down his window and leaned all the way out.

The guards all did the same, with their guns drawn and ready to fire if any shots rang out from that van.

But Marcellus was only thinking about his son. If he stayed in that van, those kidnappers could kill him with one shot and he’d be powerless to defend himself. There was no other option. “Jump!” he yelled to his son.

“Pop!” said a frantic Scottie. “Don’t tell him that!”

“Jump and roll!” Marcellus yelled.

“That’ll kill him, Pop!”

“Do it now!” Marcellus ordered his son.

And Niko, with terror in his eyes but total faith in his father, scooted his body to the edge of the van and without hesitation heaved himself enough to jump off and roll.

Scottie swerved out, to avoid rolling over his brother, and came to a stop as Marcellus motioned wildly with his arms for the detail cars to continue the pursuit. They sped around the SUV and continued to follow the van.

Marcellus and the guards hopped out and ran to Niko’s rescue. He had rolled violently across the pavement and didn’t stop rolling until he was on the side of the road. They ran to him. He was in bad shape.

Marcellus picked up his son singlehandedly and ran with him to the SUV. They all hopped in and Scottie floored it again.

Marcellus held Niko like he was a baby in his arms. His handsome face was battered and bruised and so was his body. And he was in tremendous pain. But he was alive. Thank God, Marcellus was inwardly shouting, his baby was alive!

But Boris Escabatti and whoever else was in that van didn’t fare so well.

By the time Scottie was speeding past them to get Niko home and under a doctor’s care, that van had wrapped around a pole, splitting in half.

The guys in the two security detail cars were out of their cars and running to the scene to make certain there were no survivors.

But even Marcellus knew surviving that would have been an impossibility. But it didn’t matter to them. They got what they deserved. And he had his son back.