“I take it the search didn’t end well?”  Micheal leaned towards ‘Sophie’ to ask.

“It ended very well, a few dozen times. I’m just not looking to settle down, yet.”

Rosalyn laughed, “I like her.  She’s spunky.  Tell me, are you a fan of boxing, Sophie?”  She leaned against her date but under the table Ori could feel the other woman’s foot ‘accidentally’ touch hers.

“Two half-naked muscular men displaying their natural power? Nah,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she sampled her martini. “They did have quite a few fights in Nice. There was a man there who looked like he’d just stepped off of a Viking ship who was the current champ.”

“Likely ov’r ya smile.”  Paul noted with a chuckle.

She winked at Paul in appreciation.

“Well,”  Les interjected.  “Roslyn’s cousin runs a fighting circuit.  Prize matches.  We were going there after dinner for some excitement.”

“Don’t let him fool you, it’s much nicer than men just bashing each other’s skulls in.  My cousin will take real good care of us.  Lots of fun to be had, party favors for all.  You’ll never want to go back to France.  Trust me.”  Rosalyn winked at ‘Sophie.’

The waiter came then and began to take orders for dinner.  Small talk reigned during this time, where there were frequent stops by the staff to bring items and check on how things were going.  It wasn’t until dinner was brought and they were left to their own ends that talk became more substantially interesting again.

“Has your date there told you what he does for a living?”  Rosalyn asked Sophie.

Michael chuckled, “She’d be bored to tears hearing about the things I do all day.  Of late it’s a lot of paperwork.  I haven’t handled anything challenging in a while-”

“That’s why you said hello to me, wasn’t it?” 

Rosalyn seemed to be examining Sophie a bit closer as she flirted with Michael.  Certainly Oriana knew what it was to be watched by someone who was looking for something, predators could smell their own, as they say.

“It was.”  Michael said cooly. “I’m a lawyer.  Of late I’m dealing in probate stuff… last wills and testaments and that sort of thing.  Making sure people’s wishes are carried out.” 

“Don’t let him sell you short on how amazing he is,”  Rosalyn turned her attention to Ricci. “This man is likely the next Mayor of New York City.”

Michael made a dismissive noise.

“Mayor? But you’re so young. How is that possible?”

“All the right friends.”  Paul said hefting his glass in a toast towards Les.

“Rosie is, as always, overly … generous with her estimation of me.”

“Jeez, I should have met you all earlier. I could’ve been the next Hazel Harcout.”

The table laughed, but there was definitely a silent conversation happening in the looks between Ricci and Rosalyn Amato.

Les pulled Rosalyn a little closer.  “How’s your chicken?” The older man whispered into his date’s ear.  

“Not as good as the dessert I’ll have later.” Rosalyn quipped playfully.  “But… if you'll excuse me, I’m going to the powder room.” She rose from the table, followed by Sophie,  and the men rose for their departure. “I’ll join you,” she said cheerfully.  

Ricci watched her walking off almost as long as Les did, but with less obviousness.

Rosalyn made a beeline for the ladies room, clearly familiar with the club enough to be comfortable in it.  Once inside she went right to a mirror and began to check her make-up and hair.

“Lucky girl to have Michael Ricci grab you up like that.  He’s not normally one to just pick up a lady friend at a bar.”

“What can I say? I’ve always been lucky. He seems like a good man, though.”

“If that’s what you’re into.”  She said looking pointedly at Oriana in the mirror as she applied her lipstick again.  

“Aww. You were supposed to tell me about his wild side…” 

She turned to face ‘Sophie.’  

“He’s straight-laced that one.  He’ll need to marry a girl for her name, he’s got nothing but a lot of money coming his way and a solid reputation as a young lawyer.  But a name is the only way to the top in a town like New York City.  I figure he’s got a list of ‘em.  He’s a fucking hell cat in the sheets though.  I mean, I’ve been with some fun guys before, but he takes the cake.  He’ll ruin you for every other man you meet after.  Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Ruin me. Now I’m even more intrigued. Where’s all this money coming his way from? He’s not mobbed up, is he? That was the warning I got, coming to New York…”

“You wanted to hear about his wild side, didn’t you?”  Rosalyn arched an eyebrow. “Would you be scared off to find out you were around some connected folks?”

“For tonight? The opposite, probably. Although I probably wouldn’t bring him home to meet the parents.”

“Michael’s not in, but I am.”  She said stepping closer to Sophie, her eyes looking at her in that way that suggested she too was thinking about Ori in her dress and out of it. Sophie let a visible shiver run down her spine. “Les.  Paul. As for the money well, like Paul said, Michael has the right friends. Living and dead. One of his clients had a run of bad luck recently… his misfortune was everyone else’s windfall. It happens that way.  As such, we happen to have the best booze, drugs, and everything imaginable at our beck and call tonight and every night since. You’d do well to stick around with us while you’re visiting. We’ll show you the real face of New York - the kind they don’t let tourists see typically, but only because Michael likes you.  Of course… nothing says he has to be your only friend.”

Sophie seemed like she’d been plugged into the electrical socket as she listened to Rosalynn.

Rosalyn reached up to push a bit of Ori’s hair off her face.  “Such pretty hair, I wish I could pull off that shade. God, it just makes your eyes pop.  And that lipstick…”

Sophie looked shocked that Rosalyn was touching her- shocked and excited. 

“Michael is fun, but if you want a real wild time… maybe you stick with me?”  her words were whispered, if someone had walked in no one but ‘Sophie’ would have caught them. Sophie looked like words were a little hard to form, and she just nodded against Rosalyn’s hand.

“Good.”  she took her hand back.  “Play nice with Michael. He’ll be out of it come an hour into the private party at my cousin’s.  We’ll go have our own party once he and Les are out of it. Then you really see what this place has to offer.”

“How long…” Sophie looked like she was trying to catch her breath. “How long have all of you been working together like this? Has your whole life been this exciting?”

Rosalyn giggled, clearly enjoying showing off.  “I was an innocent little thing for years, but my cousin he pulls in one night and tells me about our ticket to the big time. Two years ago.  He’s got a good eye for people. He sees things about them, like he can read their minds… their souls. He knows shit they don’t even say. It’s uncanny.  Frightening really. He’s got this whole plan figured out and I think he’s insane but… I’ve played my part and now, everything he promised me is finally coming together.  If you stay for more than just a little visit, maybe we can keep having fun together. Maybe I will teach you some of what Luca taught me.”

Oriana had listened to more than a few people stupidly brag about their ‘well-executed plans’ in the past.  People who she’d had to gather information on, some of whom she had to kill.  Rosalyn, sadly, felt a lot like that - a woman bragging about a job well done.  A job which she’d been proud to do.  A job she’d profited a great deal off of, she and her friends many of whom were sitting at the table out in the next room.  She felt like the sort of person who now felt she was on her way to being, or was, untouchable.  It was a braggarts folly to give such speeches, and seldom was rewarded but people who did what she was doing generally didn’t live to pass on that wisdom.

“We’d better get back- Michael might be worried about what you’re doing to me in here.”

“I’m sure he knows, he likes to watch.” She smirked. “Once, I had this blonde…”  She reached out and touched Ori’s hair again.  “Not quite this color but, close.  It was quite a party.  He liked it a lot.”

“Oh? She going to be at the party? Or do I have no competition tonight?”

Rosalyn chuckled, “No.  She won’t be partying with anyone anymore.  I’m afraid she’s officially out of the social circles.”

“Couldn’t cut it in the sack, huh?” asked Oriana. They were taking a while, but fuck it.

“Oh no, she was good there, but kinda stupid.  Talked too much.  Trusted too much… didn’t play things cool.  She was a hot head.  Thought every person who smiled at her loved her.  Full of herself.  She had a very long fall.  I hear she went down to the shore and never came back, which is just as well cause she drove me fucking nuts even if she did have the most perfect tits you ever saw.”

“Well.. that feels like a challenge,” smirked Oriana, resisting the urge to knife Rosalyn.

“You’ll do fine kid.  I know people.  You seem a lot smarter than her.  Fuck, her whole family.  Come on.  Let’s go finish that dinner and get to a real party.”

“You have no idea,” purred Oriana as she traced a finger along Rosalyn’s forearm, “how much I’m looking forward to that.”

***

“I don’t understand why we can’t go in.  Literally no one will know you with that haircut and color which, by the way, is incredible.”  

Tara smiled.  “Thank you, but it’s a risk we can’t take and more importantly it’s about me and Ori.  I need her to know I trust her to handle shit. You know, like… we both can do our part.  I don’t have to hover over her protectively and she can trust that when I say I’m doing something that I’m doing it.”

“You think Brigitte will really show up here?”

“No.”  Tara admitted.  “Same reasons I wouldn’t walk in there, but again… it’s the principle of the matter and who knows what Ori will learn talking to people.”

“I got dressed up for nothing,”  Jo said looking down at her cute black cocktail dress.

“I wouldn’t say nothing.”  Tara said allowing her eyes to drift over to Jo just for a moment, drinking in the shape of her, her soft curves her -  Tara stopped herself and looked back out into the streets.

“You know flattery is my weak point, Tara…” smirked Jo. “But you still owe me.”

Tara sighed.  “Yeah, I know, but hey - you know I’m good for it.  I mean look at how well working with me has paid off in the past.  I mean, if you don’t count the time I pulled a gun on you and Ren and a room full of doctors.”

“I was talking about a night out. Adventure. Not the cash. Just for the record. And don’t worry about the gun thing. Don’t make it a habit either… but that was a bad day for all us,” she said, a rare somber note creeping into her cheerful voice. “I’m going to miss Bacchus.”

“Me too.”  Tara said sadly.  “More than anyone will probably ever guess.  More than I would have guessed when I-” Tara stopped talking and pointed.

“They're coming out.  A whole group of them.  Wait… I know that guy and … Rosalyn?”  Tara’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.  “I guess she is doing work with these guys after all, maybe she’s helping Brigitte!”  There was excitement to her tone now.  

---

Alice departed the group, sick on either too much wine or the scallops, she wasn’t sure which but she was in no state to party.  Sophie, of course, was all too happy to take her place in the car that would be traveling to Luca Amato’s fight club.  As the group came out the front of the Stork Club and waited for the car to be brought by the valet, Oriana found her eyes wandering.  Ever watchful, always expecting the worst on a mission, she did it out of force of habit more than anything else.

The difference between the average person and an assassin was perhaps one key and noticeable trait.  People who killed people for a living, looked up.  Most folks walked around looking at other people, or the ground more often than not.  Killers looked up.  They knew buildings and perches were dangerous places - death often came from above and while her companions seemed content to look at the street level and talk among themselves, Oriana’s eyes had drifted up the side of the Salisbury Hotel and somewhere around the sixth floor, a glint caught her eye.  She had half a heartbeat to react to what she knew was not just a normal reflection… but the street lights hitting the scope on a sniper rifle.

Ori reached for her purse. If Brigitte took down Ricci or one of the others, Ori wouldn’t let the rest get away. She’d have a window of confusion after the first shot to try to handle the others- at least one clip before they’d see her coming. 

Hopefully, she’d be able to remove them all without getting shot again- either by one of these assholes or Brigitte. If she had the chance, Ori would try to make her move near some cover. But she’d make the first priority taking the rest of the group down.

The noise was distinct to Oriana.  She knew the sound, could identify the gun by the noise it made… she was confident she’d seen that gun once before, in Italy.  Aurora had brought it with her.  She’d put money on it.  Surprisingly it wasn’t Michael whose head exploded beside her and fell like a stone, instead it was the older man - Les.  The street erupted into chaos.  Screaming men and women, running every which way, cars roaring to life, no one paying any mind to anyone, everyone trying to get safe.  Everyone except the other watchful predator waiting for her moment to strike.

When Les’s head exploded, Ori’s hand was already in motion. The other three targets were staring off for a moment in the direction of the shot- when Michael and Paul took off running, Oriana already had them both lined up. Two quick shots each dropped them. In the ensuing seconds, Rosalyn had ducked down to hide. Ori, shying away from the open scope, shot Rosalyn once, then leaned over her, watching her hands. Ori spoke quietly.

“Brigitte Mastrosimone sends her regards.”

The next shot went between Rosalynn’s eyes.

Leaning quickly around the cover, Ori shot Michael again and reloaded. Assuming Brigitte had seen that, Ori walked out and shot both Michael and Paul in the head. Better to be sure. Then she looked up in Brigitte’s direction and began moving quickly toward the hotel.

She wasn’t sure if Brigitte would stick around, but Ori wasn’t going to give her the option of running. 

Tara and Jo weren’t sure where the gunfire had come from, at least not some of it.  Oriana had a gun, Tara was confident of that, but who the fuck was the enemy here? Where was Brigitte?  Was she here at all? Tara and Jo were as confused as everyone else even though they knew far more about what might be happening than just about anyone else out on the street tonight.

Seeing Ori finally moving about, Tara called out - “HEY!”  over the din, deciding not to call her name, just in case. She whistled shrilly and moved towards her as she saw Ori quickly cutting across the street. 

“Valkyrie! Hotel! Cover the exits!” 

Jo was moving instantly and Tara only a heartbeat behind her after looking Ori over to see if she noticed any wounds.  Satisfied that her lover was okay she also broke into a run and went around the back of the building while Jo remained towards the front.  Sirens could be heard coming in this direction already. Of course in such a well-to-do area of the city, police would respond quickly.

Ori made her best guess, based on where the shots had come from, on the stairwell that Brigitte would go down.

As she came round the banister, heading up, a set of wild blonde curls in a leather jacket was coming down.  Coal black M1911s could be seen in Aurora’s shoulder holster on Brigitte’s chest.  

Ready to chase her, Ori yelled, “Brigitte! It’s Ori!”

Brigitte froze.  “Ori… I thought…”  Instead of running away from her, Brigitte ran to her.

“I just crossed a few names off your list. But Tara’s downstairs and the cops are on the way, so can we please- oof!”

Brigitte hugged Ori, hard, for only a brief moment.  “We gotta go.”  she said as she ended the hug, tears in her eyes.  “Tara’s alive?!?  Oh my god… Rex said everyone at Bacchus’ died.  I …  Let’s go.”  She grabbed Ori’s hand and began pulling her towards the door.

Ori squeezed Brigitte’s hand and didn’t let go as they ran down the stairs. The sirens were really getting close. Fortunately, they knew Jo and Tara would be at the exits.   

They piled into the backseat of the car quickly as Jo hit the gas. Ori directed Jo which way to go, leaning forward between the front seats as the sisters talked behind her.

Brigitte grabbed ahold of Tara and the two sisters clung to one another, sobbing almost instantly.  Both talking at once so incoherently that neither could actually be hearing the other completely as they both tried to tell each other all that was on their minds.

“... thought you were dead!  Bacchus’ place…”

“... no one knew where you were, why the FUCK didn’t you call Gavin…”

“... and mom, she told me to do what Dad said and I … I just…”

“Both of you can it for a minute,” interrupted Ori. “Brigitte, where would Amato’s party be tonight? He’s got to go down- and there’s still a couple names on your list. After tonight, their guards might be up too much. Where are we headed? Then you guys can catch up.”

“I’m so sorry, Tara.  It’s all my fault…”

“Brigitte!”

“No.  Shut up.  Listen.  She’s right.  Where’s Amato?”

“A warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen.”  Brigitte explained.  “I can take you there.  It’s a place …”

“He’s the new Baron?”  Tara said, a bit surprised.

“How do you know about…”  Brigitte began.

“Nona Bella grew up in Brooklyn.  Dad too.  Did you listen to any stories that he ever told?”

“He never told anything about the Baron, why would he?”  

“Oh…”  Tara blushed realizing Brigitte would have definitely been the kid he DIDN’T tell that shit too, “Yeah.  I guess that makes sense.”

“I didn’t know Amato was working with those guys, Tara.  I swear I didn’t.”

“Dad didn’t trust him.”  Tara said.  “Seems his judge of character is spot on yet again.”

“And mine wasn’t.”  Brigitte lamented.

“Not the time for that.”  Tara said, echoing Ori’s tone from Bacchus’ home.  “So how do we get to the Baron’s Throne?  Where is this place?”

Brigitte gave instructions to Jo on where to drive.

“What are the odds that Bradshaw and… Lorenzo are there?” asked Ori.

“Bradshaw, zero.  Lorenzo, almost 100%.  The Baron’s Throne is … legendary.  Gambling is just one of the many things you can do there and I’m sure Lorenzo is probably turning a quick buck tonight.”

“Who’s Bradshaw? Dangerous?” Ori was thrilled to have Brigitte back, but had fallen into her own routine of leading a team of killers. Exactly five years earlier, she was probably having a similar conversation with Viola, Serena, and Lucia.

“He’s probably the most physically impressive but least connected guy on my list.  I suspected he was fucking dirty from the moment Gavin ended up getting spotted and shot while we were gone.  I wondered about Uncle Charlie’s attack too. I mean, the man can’t be held responsible for everything that happens down there but again and again his name kept coming up and now suddenly his gambling debts are cleaned.  He also doesn’t have so much as a parking ticket downtown.”

“How the hell do you know that?”  Tara said with a furrowed brow.

“You’re not the only one with friends in blue.  Cops like blondes too, ya know.”

Tara chuckled.

“Any idea where Bradshaw would be? Close by to the Throne?”

“He’s a family man.  Lives over by the Brooklyn Marine Terminal.  Likely home tonight or at one of the local dive bars.”

“Okay. Throne first then.” Ori finally looked at Brigitte in the eyes. “Glad to have you back. Thought you were dead. Now the two of you… catch up fast…” Wriggling forward, Ori awkwardly slipped between the two front seats as she climbed into the front of the car.

Brigitte leaned her head on Tara and Tara hugged her sister tighter, feeling the guns Tara looked down at them and gasped.  “Brigitte! What the fuck?!?” Tara pulled back as if there was a snake under the coat.

Brigitte didn’t say a word.

“You should be ashamed to wear those guns under that coat.  Christ!”  Tara hissed.  

Brigitte still said nothing.

“Say something!”  Tara demanded.

“The other guns are for protecting the family.  Mom and dad had these ones before …”  She wet her lips.  

“Just because they were carrying them before they died doesn’t make it right.  Brigitte you KNOW what those guns did to our family.  They should have been melted down years ago.  They’re … fucking evil.”  

“They have purpose and Dad wanted them to serve it.  That’s why I brought them.”

“Have you killed anyone with them?”  Tara asked her eyes full of concern, her tone bleeding worry.

“No.”  Brigitte said flatly.  

“Tara. Brigitte thought you were dead. You’re both alive. Priorities,” droned

“I… I am glad you’re alive but it still doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell Gavin you were okay.”  Tara said trying to focus on something else.

“Mom told me not to.  They… they didn’t go down shooting.”  Brigitte said softly.

“What?”  Tara narrowed her eyes, “What do you mean?”

Brigitte swallowed.  “They trapped us. We were surrounded.  They would let me go if Mom and Dad… went with them.  They promised to make sure we could bury them together and… as they were.  It’s why the cops found them so fast.”

Tara starred, silent.

“Before they left I got a minute to talk to them both.  Dad was pretty much as you’d expect. Walked to the car.  He…” Brigitte barely kept herself together, “... wanted me to tell you he loves you and to kiss you for him.  Mom… she was pissed. She made me promise to remember who I was and to do what dad had asked which was get revenge.”

“That doesn’t sound like Dad.”

“Oh, but it was.  It was. He was very clear that he wanted these bastards to go down.  He told me to do what Mom had done for Nona Bella.”

Tara shook her head, “Mom didn’t avenge Nona Bella, Brigitte.  She wanted to… but she, she focused on us. Family. Like Grandpa Gavin said.”

Brigitte shook her head, “It’s not what he meant, you weren’t there.  His last request of me was to be like mom, so I am. I’m finding everyone who wanted take from this family and I’m making them pay.  I’m going to make sure there is money for Gavin and the kids…”

“And then?”  Tara asked. “Just wash your hands and hang your guns on the bedpost?”

“It worked for Grandpa Gavin.”  Brigitte whispered.  

“Is this who you are now?”  Tara asked softly.

“I feel like… my life before Italy was a dream.  Everything I had was easy and perfect and too good.  Not real.”  she shook her head, her curls flouncing.  “This is real, Tara.  What we’ve been doing.  I feel like I’m awake and alive for the first time since I was so small I can barely remember it.”

Tara nodded, “I get that.”  Her voice was dark, somber.

“I hurt, and I’m not sure exactly how I’m supposed to look when I come out the other side... not physically, you know, just as a person, but I know I’m moving in the right direction.  I feel stronger now.  Less fake.”

Tara leaned over and kissed her sister’s cheek, “There’s a lot of that going around lately.  Just be careful not to put it all aside.  Some of that good stuff is you too.  It's okay to realize the truth is somewhere in the middle.”

“My god, I’m glad you’re alive.”  Brigitte laughed.  “Now I’m not going to have to figure out how to take care of them all on my own.”

“Oh… is that the only reason you’re glad I’m around?”  Tara smirked and wiped her tears.

“Well, that and you’re still my favorite fashion project.  Though this isn’t horrible.  I don’t hate it.  And blonde is an INCREDIBLE look for you.  Oriana must be rubbing off on you.”  She kissed her little sister.  “Thanks for keeping her in one piece, Orin.”

Tara chuckled.

“Let’s see how the night concludes before you start thanking me,” said Ori with a smirk. “But I’m hoping to get there fast enough to surprise him.”

***

Tara had read about a place called The Throne twice in Nona Bella’s journal and once in her mother’s.  Bella had been one of the original street kids who joined the original Baron in his misadventures. She was called Hotrod Izzy back then, and she was known for being one of the best car thieves anywhere, if her journal was to be believed.  She described the throne as a ‘Neverland full of unrepentant lost boys on a bender ruled over by a benevolent dictator Baron.’ Hotrod Izzy had been the first Baron’s lover for a time. He was one of her first. The man wasn’t an official member of the Cosa Nostra, he was - however - a well respected local thug.  From his ranks many people who would become forces to be reckoned with had come and so his presence was not only tolerated but welcome. He gave younger people a place to blow off steam, congregate, plan and grow into the next generation of movers and shakers in New York’s underworld.

By the time Aurora had visited The Throne, her description of it was somewhat less generous and kind.  Where Bella had described a sort of unseelie fairyland, Aurora saw it as a haven for dangerous men and women who played at being something they had no understanding of.  Her tone had been dripping with disdain. She considered them no longer a vital part of the machine which made the Underworld of New York but a refuge for has beens and never-woulds trying to relive glory days.  A place where people who wanted to be real men of honor came to play at being ‘bad.’ The music was louder, the fights more violent, the sex wilder, the drugs were harder, the alcohol was suspect at best - it was dangerous because it tried so hard to be ‘bad.’  Of course, some of her opinion might have been based on the Old Baron’s assumption that he would ‘have a taste of two generations of Luciano women’ before his reign was through. It was something Aurora had no interest in and left him a nasty scar to emphasize her point with.

Tara took time to explain to the women in the car what to expect at The Throne and Brigitte confirmed it was much as Aurora had written.  Amato’s fight club had helped to breathe new life into this old New York ‘tradition’ (perhaps a generous term but Tara could think of none better) and his money brought in a younger fresher crowd.  Still, the has beens and never-woulds flocked to taste the delights of the forbidden lifestyle they only read about in papers and trashy novels. It had sucked in more than a few notables from all walks of life and in this place the biggest rule in Brigitte’s mind was a twisted sort of Omerta.  No one talked about The Throne… or they would face the wrath of The Baron. Brigitte had thought Amato and his slowly growing crew to be her friends - but she could see now, they had used her and the pill was clearly a bitter one to swallow.

While Amato was the most recent, the title of Baron had traded hands several times just since she’d come to New York.  Billy and Aurora had known about it, but it was so far beneath them and the Cosa Nostra’s goings on that they’d ignored it.  What did it matter if street kids got together and partied too hard and committed low level crimes? Tara wondered now if that hadn’t been a mistake, was that how Amato had managed to fly so high?  Well, like Icarus, Tara would see his wings melt tonight and watch as he plummeted to the earth for any part he’d played in either her family’s downfall or the subsequent ravaging of their holdings.

Tara had seen dens of excess and hedonism, and Bacchus’ was by far superior to anything these children and their new Baron could dream up.  Still, as the car parked several blocks away and the group could already hear the music fluttering down the street, Tara felt a strange excitement growing in the pit of her stomach.  Maybe it was the knowledge that she was moving towards a place she’d only ever imagined, or the knowledge of what they were coming here to do.  Tara couldn’t say and she wouldn’t hazard a guess.  Instead she checked her gun and knife and prepared herself for what they were about to do.

Ori turned around in the seat; Jo turned to listen to her as well.

“So my thoughts… Brigitte, your curls are amazing, but your hair can be spotted from space. If you walk in there to get your revenge on Amato and Lorenzo, you’ll tip them off immediately and Amato will throw people at you before you can get close. If you wind up sitting in the car for this one, we’ll let you handle Bradshaw next. But if you can’t hide your hair well enough to fool Amato, then you’re sticking in the car and getting ready for a quick exit- unless you want to cut your hair off. ”

Jo frowned, no doubt remembering when she’d cut off nearly all her own hair, after it’d been stained with the blood of friends she’d failed to save.

“Also,” continued Ori, “are either of these guys the sort we could lure to the bathroom for a ‘private’ chat? It’d be nice to get one or both of them removed silently.” Ori sighed, hopeful but not assuming. “If we can lure one away and get him done in the bathroom, great. Second one? Even better. But assuming we’ll have to take at least one of them in public, someone should be ready to hit the fire alarm, while 1-2 others are close enough to do the deed.”

Brigitte nodded to Oriana’s words about her hair, “I hadn’t planned on hitting them here, so I didn’t come with a way to take care of my hair.  I’ll have to keep the car running.  As for luring one of them aside, it’s possible with Lorenzo.  He’s smart enough to stay away from the booze and drugs, but he’s got a soft spot for aggressive women.  The working girls I’ve seen him with are the sort who would grab him by the tie and tell him that he’s going to pay for time with them.  He makes enough money keeping books on fights and ball games that he can afford it.  If you have to, smack him.  You’ll get his attention and he’ll follow you anywhere.”

Tara blinked, “Smack him?”

Brigitte shrugged, “Like I said, he likes a girl who knows what she wants and takes it.  Lorenzo will be easy to pull away… Amato though? He’ll be at the front of the party, that throne of his.  He’ll be visible to everyone. Likely have at least two guards with him and just as many whores - to say nothing of friends with him doing drugs.”  

“What if we hit Lorenzo here and ambush Amato’s driver.  Literally wait until after the party and drive off with the bastard.  Do you think his guards will ride in his car with him?” Tara asked.

“Maybe one in the front with the driver… maybe.  More often than not Amato leaves the Throne with a girl or three though.  He’ll be distracted.”

Jo shook her head, “He’s bound to hear about what happened outside The Stork though, right?  I mean all his big friends get taken down, surely someone talks and then he runs, with a shit ton of guards and then we’re left to fight a bunch of guys with guns in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen.  Maybe we’re the girls he takes home at the end of the night and then all we worry about is a driver and guard who have their backs to us in the front seat?”

“What’s Amato’s type?”  Tara asked as she turned and looked back to Brigitte.

Brigitte sighed, “Blondes.”

Tara looked to Oriana and smiled, “Looks like we got options.  What’s your thoughts?”

“I was always planning on moving quickly,” said Ori. “We just gunned down 4 of his partners on the sidewalk- someone’s going to run in and tell him. We might have a short window of time before that happens. Better to hit everyone in one wave before they can line up protection.”

Tara nodded, seeming to agree with Oriana’s take on things.  “So Lorenzo seems easy enough to pull away. Why don’t you handle that.  Jo and I can get close to Amato. He knows me and that might make him nervous but if he doesn’t know what just happened he’s likely to play things cool and let us in to his circle.”

“How many guards do you think will be around Amato, Brigitte?”

“He always has two guys.  If he has more then something is terribly wrong.  But two, that’s standard.”

“Does he have more than two in the club?”

“Possible, but if he does they’re probably there to party and not focused on work.  Doesn’t mean that there aren’t guns in the room.  Something to be aware of.”  Brigitte noted.

“The exit is what makes me concerned.”

“Main entrance on the front is what the kids use.  There is a loading dock on the backside.  It used to be used as an actual warehouse after all.  Still, it’s a big ass bay door.  It’s gonna be loud if you exit that way.  No stealth for sure, not that you’ll need it if you’re fleeing I suppose.  I could park back there.”

“You and Jo get close to him. I’ll handle Lorenzo- then I’ll either cut the power to the place or hit a fire alarm. Preferably the fire alarm. Something to distract everyone, give you a chance to get away without everyone focused on you.”

Tara nodded, “Anything to clear out the guns we can’t predict the actions of is a good idea.  The fire alarm should do that.”  Tara looked to Jo.  “You up for this?  I know you wanted an adventure but um… this more a take down than an adventure.”

“So was Italy, at the end. I mean, these are bad guys right? People who hurt you and your family?”

Tara nodded, Brigitte vocalized, “He’s fucking traitor.  He used me to get to Dad’s wealth and power… he’s the worst.”

“Then I’m in,” said Jo. “You guys are my friends.” For her, it seemed to be that simple.

Tara leaned up into the front seat and kissed Jo’s cheek.  “You’re the best.”  she winked at Ori as she fell back into the back seat again.  “Where should Brigitte be waiting for us?”

“In the car.”

Brigitte nodded, “Be careful, guys.  I meant to do this a whole lot slower than we’re moving tonight.  I thought we’d have a little more time to plan… I don’t want to think any of you got hurt because of me not being in there.”

“Keep it running and keep an eye out for anyone rushing in to tell Amato something. I’m assuming they’d use a phone to just call him, but…” Ori shrugged.

Tara turned to Brigitte and took her sister’s face between her hands, “No matter what happens in there, this isn’t because of you.  This is about us making things right, settling family affairs.  You never should have been doing that alone.  If I had been there, Mom would have told both of us to do this.  She wouldn’t have put that all on you Brigitte, you know that, right?”

Brigitte put her eyes down but didn’t reply.

“The pack is stronger together.  No lone wolves.”  Tara pushed.  “Promise me that if shit goes left, you’ll go to Gavin and Cerise.  I mean it. Brigitte.  Promise.”

Brigitte sighed.  “I promise.”  

Tara nodded, “Good.”

“Besides, it’s not like you’re sidelined here. You’re taking down the last one,” said Ori as a means of consolation.

“Alright, alright.  Get it done.”  Brigitte said waving off the women trying to help her.  “As long as their dead, that’s all that matters.  Not who.  I’ll be fine.”

Tara kissed her sister’s cheek.  “We’ll be back in a minute.”

“More like five to eight,” said Ori.

Jo chuckled and climbed out of the car just after Tara.  As she came along side Tara she was silent.  Tara gave Ori a quick kiss.  “Don’t have too much fun.”  Tara cautioned Ori.  Jo merely smirked and then the two of them began walking towards the front door.

A bouncer of sorts stood outside the standard metal door.  If not for the loud music and the smells lingering around the place, it was like every other warehouse in the area.  A single light illuminated the outside front entrance. The man took a quick look at the ladies approaching him, smiled and seemed to have no issue allowing them to pass without comment.  Though his eyes lingered on them until the door shut tight behind them.

Inside the metal building, sound echo’d terribly.  People talking sounded like people screaming, the music was deafening.  The smoke was thick in the air, so much so that it burned Tara’s eyes. It was a poor excuse for the place described with such fondness in Isabella’s journal.  Still there were traces of the place that it had once been.  

The people in the building were, for the most part, young.  The dancing and drinking was certainly the same. She strongly suspected the drugs were too, though Isabella spoke very little about that.  The small circle of people towards the front of the room, watching bare knuckle fighting - a small addition likely by Amato, was new. The front of the room though, that was exactly as it had been described by both Aurora and her mother.  Amato had been smart enough not to change a thing there, likely realizing that the legacy the previous Baron’s had built was powerful and he didn’t want to distance himself from the fear and respect they’d built up.

The raised floor was clearly used to reach the loading dock, though long drapes hid that away.  The infamous throne sat atop this space, allowing Amato a clear view of everything and everyone from the front door all the way to the space at his feet.  Around him women sat on pillows, fawning over him, pouring him drinks and clearly trying to attract and keep his attentions. Four women & two bodyguards just like Brigitte had said there would be, Tara noted as she felt Oriana disappear into the crowd behind her and Jo.

“Well, no time like the present.”  Tara said, moving into the thrashing bodies.  This place could hardly be called a dance hall.  It felt more like a full clothed orgy.  It had all the energy of Bacchus’ dining hall but none of the class.  Tara kept her eyes on Amato as she moved through the throng of people.  Her eyes only drifting to the small ring of fighters long enough to make note that yes, a bookie was there… that was likely Lorenzo.  Oriana would have to find a way to get him to stop making money on the fights and focus on her, but if anyone could do it, she was confident Ori could.

Tara was just starting to think about how she was going to make her way up onto the raised dais and get beside Amato, when his eyes met hers.  It was as if a light had shown down on her, as if he’d singled her out of all the people and could only see her.  Tara felt exposed before his gaze and unnerved.  It was a strange moment with such intensity that even Jo seemed to notice and turned to Tara for a moment before looking back to Amato just as he whispered to his guard and pointed Tara out of the crowd.

“Oh boy.”  Jo said beside Tara.

“Well, looks like we’re getting our invite.”  Tara tried to keep her wits about her.  “So much for my hair making me not noticeable.  Do you think he was watching for me?”

“Surely no one called him about The Stork that fast?”  Jo said.  The bodyguard came off the dais and moved through the crowd to meet them.

“The Baron would like for you to join him.”  The guard said over the din.  Tara merely nodded and started to walk.  Jo too.  The guard put out a hand, “Just her.”  He said firmly.

Jo looked at Tara and for a moment they seemed to consider each other before Tara said, “I’ll be fine.  Get a drink.  I owe you a good time, right?  Have an adventure.”  She insisted to Jo.

“Yeah.”  Jo said, not looking completely comfortable with the plan as Tara walked off with Amato’s bodyguard.

*

Ori had made her way over to the flights, slipping through the crowd as she focused on her target. Fortunately, there seemed to be a lull in the fights. Ideally, they would remove their targets before Amato got the call; it seemed like there was a good chance of that, since it hadn’t taken them too long to drive over. But she needed to move fast.

She caught Lorenzo’s eye when she was six feet away from him- and kept walking at him. As she approached, Ori grabbed his tie and pulled his head forward- not enough to hurt him, but enough to unsteady him. 

“You’re coming with me to the bathroom. Right the fuck now,” she growled. Lorenzo seemed like he was going to say something to protest, but Ori lightly slapped him across the face. “Don’t make me hit you harder. Bathroom. Now.”

Lorenzo, seemingly motivated, walked to the bathroom with one hand parting the crowd and the other on Ori’s waist as she stuck close to him. He pushed the bathroom door open and shouted, “Everyone out! Now!” A couple men quickly zipped and scattered. 

He turned to Oriana and kissed her, and she indulged him for the moment. Long enough to get him a little excited, at least, before pushing him towards the stall. When they were standing in the stall, Ori silently removed one of the knives from her thighs and, as he fumbled with his pants, slit the man’s throat. She used her other hand to angle the blood away from her as she pushed him down on the toilet, remembering a hit she’d done with Cat where her friend had had to steal her another dress…

One down. 

She exited the bathroom quickly.