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that had uplifted his spirits and made him think that this information was helpful. Then it hit me -- He was still getting instructions from the Israeli Mossad, who were about to operate in the United States against their agreement, and I, as a representative of the law, had to stop them.

Murat Lenika,

New York City, November 14, 2015, 12:15 p.m.

“Aldo, you have behaved with respect to your direct boss and your boss’s boss.” My father had a deep and quiet voice. He was most frightening when he spoke softly like that.

“What should I do now?” Aldo asked. “Do I take him to this meeting or not?”

The deep voice was silent. We all waited for it to echo again in the void of the car, but all we heard was a sigh.

“He has no choice. He has to go and face them.”

“But…”

“There is no but!” My father cut Aldo short. “He gave his word and in our world, we have nothing else to rely on besides our word.” After another moment of silence, he added dryly, “I have all the facts. I have another two hours to do what I can from here… To try to change something, preferably cancelling the meeting altogether.”

I was silent. He was very angry with me. I defied him and someone else was talking for me, so he couldn’t even tell me off directly as he clearly wanted to do. Deep down I prayed he would manage to cancel the meeting. Truth be told, I felt lost. I was stuck in a whirlpool which I didn’t want any part of, and the faster it spun, the more helpless I felt.

If my father couldn’t help me, no one in the world could do it. Between Yassin’s terrorist scheme and getting involved with the Red Mafia the ground beneath me was cracking up, and I was about to fall into its abyss.

“I promise to protect him.”

“Until the last bullet, Aldo!”

“Until the last bullet, sir.”

A monotonous dial tone ended the conversation. Aldo hung up as well and there was an icy silence in the vehicle.

“It will be okay. This is a good deal for them too,” I said again, maybe to persuade myself as well.

“You heard your father. The honor. You have hurt their dignity which is more important than making more money.”

“I will start by apologizing and I will carry on by saying I will reimburse them for the injustice I have done to them.”

“I am half Russian,” Alex said, “So if some young blood comes, he’ll close the deal with you. The young ones don’t give a damn about honor and dignity. All they are interested in is making more fast money. That is where their honor is. But if someone old gets out of the car… God help him, I will put a bullet in his forehead.”

“Are you crazy!?” Aldo yelled at him. I had never seen him get so mad so fast. “You don’t shoot unless they shoot first, understood?”

Alex looked away, out of the window. I saw he was trying hard not to start an argument. He clenched his teeth and his jaw jutted out. In the end, he explained quietly, “You won’t get a second chance, you don’t know them. I grew up there. If an old man gets out of the car, it is only to see Murat sprayed with bullets.”

My mouth went dry. I tried to swallow. “You do realize that we can’t show them we’re suckers.” My voice sounded strange to my ears. Somewhere between hoarse to broken. I continued anyway, “It will affect everyone. All the way to Albania. Everyone will know what happened to the boss’s son.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “This time I agree with Alex. If an old guy gets out of the car, we shoot. Tell Dubroshin to prepare for hell’s fire.”

Aldo waited a moment. Maybe he expected me to rethink my statement. When I said nothing, he made the call. “The decision has been made,” he said without pause, then continued, “If one of the older bosses gets out of the car, it is most probably a call for war. Alex claims that the older ones want Murat to pay for their lost dignity, and that is more important than the deal.”

“Alex is right.”

“In that case, we shoot first and ask questions later.”

“Okay. I am here with my men. We have already positioned ourselves and are waiting to see their preparations. We will be able to tell you ahead of time if they are preparing for defense or attack.”

The next two hours were nerve-wracking. We sat in the car and waited. After twenty minutes we changed position and drove to the upper parking area. We received no calls, perhaps because we had no cellular signal. We waited. Alex opened the window. The stress had filled the car with steam. Outside, it rained. It increased from a drizzle to a flood. We were still silent. Aldo pulled out his phone and Dubroshin’s voice echoed through the car after one ring.

“Anything new?”

“No.” We heard his footsteps as he changed places. “As soon as there is something new, I will notify you.”

“And if he slaughters you before you have time to notify us?

“When everything ends here, I will slaughter you!”

Aldo laughed nervously. I was silent. Alex opened the door and announced, “I am going to check out the area.”

“There is nothing to check,” I said.

“I can’t keep sitting here… I feel jumpy, my ass is burning.”

“Your finger is burning on the trigger. That’s what’s burning,” Aldo answered him.

Alex only said, “That too,” and got out. I saw him climb up onto the hood of a black Jeep and take a look around.

“He’s looking for a car whose exhaust pipe is letting out hot steam. Or a car with a wet roof,” Aldo explained, as if I didn’t know that myself.

“They will arrive at the appointed time. That is their way of showing confidence, that they are in control of

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