The Italian Mafia, Part Two

The blast hit, and flame swallowed everything around it in an instant.

A blast alone might not be enough, so I set the fire myself.

Flame surged up out of the floor and raced outward, and in a heartbeat the living-room sofa and the curtains were wrapped in it. The air heated with vicious speed. The whole first floor of the mansion had become a sea of fire.

Guards came running. At the sight of the flames spreading, they shouted in a panic.

"Fire! Fire!"

"Water! Where's the water!"

"It's already too late! The boss—wake the boss first!"

Lights snapped on all through the house at their yelling, and people came bursting out of their rooms. Black smoke rolling out of the living room was already claiming the first floor.

Moreno, boss of the organization, had been asleep in the master suite upstairs. He stumbled out with a hastily thrown-on shirt flapping around him.

"What the hell is going on!"

A subordinate rushed up to him.

"There's a fire."

"What?!"

"It spread from the kitchen. Looks like the gas blew."

"Goddamn it, what is this!"

"We should get you clear first."

Moreno followed his men out of the mansion. The fire took the whole house without mercy, and it burned until the place was gutted. Only with morning did the flames begin to die down.

Not one person called the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fire department while the house was still burning. Moreno had ordered them not to. By the time the blaze sank, the outer walls were scorched black. He set his men to hauling water from the pond and the fountain and dousing what was left, and after several hours of that work the fire was finally out. All that remained was acrid smoke and soot.

Dawn broke. Moreno, who had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠gone the whole night without sleep, called his men together and summoned Giovanni, his right hand.

"The fire department?"

"I already called ahead. They won't come sniffing around."

"Good. Finish cleaning this place up first, then we deal with the rest. Son of a bitch. Everybody else waits out here until I go in and come back out."

"Yes, boss."

He left them outside and went into the burned mansion alone. The stench and the smoke made him pull his shirt up over his mouth. Heat still radiated off the scorched marble underfoot as he picked his way carefully toward the back of the first floor. Once he was sure no one was around, he groped along a stretch of brick. The fire might have weakened it, so he worked with care. His fingers found the ring hidden in the mortar, and he pulled.

A seam opened in the wall. He hauled the heavy brick panel aside, and a thick metal door showed itself behind it. He set his palm to it. The surface was hot.

"No way it burned through to the inside."

He'd had fire in mind when he had the thing built, of course. Even so, he wasn't sure it would hold up to a blaze that took the whole house. If even part of what was inside had been damaged, he meant to drag in the man who built the vault and skin him.

He spun the dial this way and that—tick-tick-tick, tick-tick, tick-tick-tick—several turns left, then right. At last he gripped the heavy handle and shoved it down.

Thunk.

Thank God. If the lock had seized, this would have been a nightmare. He swung the vault door wide.

Inside was a vault the size of a small room, stacked high with bundles of cash and gold bars. There was even more cash than usual this time. He'd set aside three million euros to put up as payment on a drug deal. He checked the bundles here and there.

"Whew. Doesn't look like any of it burned. Christ."

The thought that the money might have gone up in smoke made him dizzy. It was all there, though. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Next he meant to find out why the fire had started. If some idiot had screwed up, he'd catch the man and sink him in the sea alive. He ground his teeth and started to shut the vault—and a chill shot up his spine.

He carefully picked up the pistol he'd left to one side of the vault, spun, and brought it up.

"What?"

In the instant his eyes flared, he felt the gun leave his grip. The pistol dropped, and in the same breath electricity ripped through his whole body.

BZZZT—

He convulsed from head to toe and crumpled to the floor in a heap.

"So this is where you were hiding the money. Figured if I offered you a deal you'd pile the cash up—and look at that, you really stacked it."

I licked my lips at the sight of it, opened my magic pouch, and swept in every bundle and every gold bar. The count could wait until I got back. What remained was the men outside.

The rest went easily. I picked up the boss's phone, pressed his finger to it, and found Giovanni in the call log.

Among the magic items I'd bought for dealing with the Thieves' Guild was one that copied a voice. Giovanni heard mine twisted into the boss's and sent the men around him inside.

Taking the three of them wasn't hard. If they'd had bullets on them I would have had to worry about a cook-off, but they had no guns, so I could use lightning magic as I pleased. I cooked all three and dropped them, put them under with a Sleep spell, and called again.

I did it several times, until even Giovanni couldn't wait any longer. Nearly half the men who'd been standing by outside had already gone into the burned house.

Giovanni turned to his men.

"Everybody goes in. Rifles down."

"What?!"

"Boss's orders. Rifles on the ground, and you get inside. Move it!"

The muttering men set their weapons down and started for the mansion. Giovanni caught the eyes of his own trusted men among them. Reading the look, they each slipped a pistol into the back of a waistband and covered it with a shirt. Giovanni hid his own gun and followed them in.

Some fifteen of them poured inside. The burned interior was black with soot. Once they were in, a voice came down from upstairs—the boss. Moreno.

"Hurry. Three of you, up here. Five go down to the basement and help with the work. Move, move. The rest of you stay where you are."

The three nearest the stairs started forward without thinking. Giovanni called to them, low.

"Wait."

His eyes went to his own men. They nodded and ran up.

Tap-tap-tap-tap. Feet on the marble stairs.

"Boss, we're coming up."

"Where are you?"

"The bedroom!"

They came running at the answer. The moment they stepped into the half-burned bedroom, I raised a hand, pointed, and murmured the trigger word.

The bolt struck them, and in that instant—crack, boom—their lower backs blew apart in a burst of flame.

"Aaagh!"

The rounds in the pistols shoved into their waistbands had cooked off.

Damn it. Why did they bring guns.

The blast rang out, and downstairs the murmuring started. Then Giovanni's voice.

"Boss! What's going on! I'm coming up!"

Damn it.

"Don't come up! It's dangerous!"

"No! I'm coming up now!"

Then I had no choice but the last resort. I loosened my fingers, bounced lightly on my feet, worked the stiffness out of my body, and vanished under invisibility.

The men who came up searched the floor, found the corpses with their backs blown out, and came running.

"What the hell happened!"

"What's going on!"

"The boss? Find the boss!"

Giovanni ground his teeth over his dead men. Whatever had gone wrong, it had gone wrong badly.

"Spread out, fast, and find the boss!"

His men scattered. Giovanni drew the pistol from the small of his back and watched the room. And then—

Thud. Crash. BZZZT.

"Aaaagh!!"

Crash. Crash-crash.

What the—!

Shouts and impacts rang one after another all over the second floor.

"Wh-what's happening!"

Fear of the unknown pulled Giovanni wire-tight. The noise, which had gone on for a long while, cut off all at once. As if he were the only one left on the second floor, nothing made a sound.

Fear hit him hard. Gripping the pistol in both hands, he eased out of the room and picked his way forward, careful of the charred debris underfoot. As he moved, he saw men sprawled on the floor as if they'd simply dropped.

"Damn it. Who the hell— Boss! Boss! Are you all right!"

No one answered his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shout.

"Damn it. Damn it!"

He couldn't make sense of any of it, but the best move now was to run. He started backing away. Get to the stairs, get out of the mansion, and come back with more of the crew. Boss or no boss—

Stay alive first...

Then a sinister voice reached his ear.

Gooseflesh rose all over him. He spun, and something seized his wrist. A half-transparent shape. A strange wrongness entered his vision. Then a heavy blow slammed into his side.

Thud!

"Ghk!"

Pain loosened his grip, and the pistol clattered to the floor. But a fear bigger than the pain kept him conscious.

"Time to sleep."

Through a strangely warped field of vision, something transparent came flying at him. That was the last thing he saw.

Crack!

Giovanni's jaw snapped aside, and his body folded onto the floor.

A moment later, I stepped out of the empty air.

"Well. That takes care of the first batch. Time to round up the rest."

I turned the boss's phone back on and dug through the Telegram history. The names of subordinates he contacted often were right there. I matched them in the call log, hit dial, and warped my voice once again.