I'd been waiting on top of this building for the better part of an hour, the sheer lack of anything to do had given me quite some of time to reflect on what I was about to do. It made me realise something. If I just kill Tony Jr and be done with it, I simply have a larger target on my head. That much I can live with that, it's not like the target on my head was small any ways. But just killing the kid wouldn't set the organization back, not unless I added a little spice to the pot. Personally, I like to think I was a good cook.
I stand up from my little hiding place, and look over the edge of the building, a limousine just pulled up to the side entrance of Club Vanadhar, there was barely anyone at the main entrance at this point any ways, but precaution never hurt. I see two well dressed men come out first, their hands ready to pull out weapons at the slightest chance of danger. They scan the area for a few moments, until they give the all clear and four more people comes out. One of them I recognized instantly as Tony Gambetti Jr, two pthers being the rest of his escort and the final one being some rather unlucky woman. What she was probably about to see would scar her for quite sometime.
I hoped she was high, or drunk out of her mind, that way she wouldn't have to remember this. I wasn't going to get hung up about this, Junior was not a kind man, he was rough, and not everyone liked that. This resulted in the girls having a bad chance of returning the next morning.
I turn my attention back to his escort, these men would hardly be the common grunts that harassed the locals, and from the look of it, these men had seen war. It's not like the US was without war, if anything that was their premium export. This allowed the Five families an abundant supply of people to recruit. These looked like they'd seen their fair share of the streets and knew what to look for. That being me of course.
There may be plenty of other Masks running around going after the Gambetti's, as a result ignoring the other families and the others who are encroaching on Empire, but when you've killed twenty-seven of their men, you tend to find yourself being rather hated by said people. Rumour had it that there was a seventy-five thousand dollar price on my head, I felt a little humbled that they'd go out of there way to hate me that much.
All five of them make their way into the limousine, this is my time. I pick myself up, giving the bow string a quick stretch, making sure it was up to the job. I had an arrow planned just for for this, I take a Bodkin arrow from my quicker, and notch it. Taking aim for the engine, with my aim steady and guaranteed, I loose the arrow at my target. With a draw weight of at least a hundred pounds of pressure, the arrow was launched at a considerable speed and impacted into the limo's engine with enough force to immediately immobilize the stationary vehicle.
It wasn't going anywhere now, I jump down on the fire-escape and notch a second arrow, and take aim ready for the first idiot to jump out and take me on. I hold my aim for a good thirty seconds, but no one comes out. Heh, too scared to face me? I quickly make my way down the fire-escape until I'm within range of jumping on the limo's roof. I take aim again, but no one shows themselves. This was becoming a little annoying, I wanted action not whatever you wanted to call this.
I could just fire into the limo's roof, but that would get me no where, and I needed someone alive to pass on the tale. I notch another arrow, and fire into the driver seat window, I wasn't sure if he was a civilian, or a trusted driver. Either way, he was dead. I could see his now lifeless body resting against the steering wheel, pressing down on the horn.
It was at this point that things got interesting, as Gambetti's men began firing into the roof, in a vain attempt at killing me. This was a wide alley way, and I was no where near where they wanted me to be. Judging by the rate of fire, they had pistols. I wanted to say Colts, but I wasn't a gun guy, This meant they ran out of rounds after a few seconds of fire, this of course meant they had to do this little thing called reload.
I dropped my bow, pulled out two arrows and jumped onto the roof and dived throw the sky-roof. Landing right inside of the limo, There was a moment of shock, as everyone tried to comprehend the situation. I would bet good money they hadn't expected this, his escorts quickly tried to reload their weapons, but I acted fast. I dove at one, slashing his throat with one arrow, I turn and throw my second arrow into the gut of the second man. I draw and throw two throwing knifes, one was at the heart of one escort, while the second was aimed at the last escort's fun hand. He would be the one who lived.
Junior was in shock the whole time, he might have acted all tough and mighty, but this was probably the first time he'd seen action, so to speak. I make my way over to the immobilised escort, as he tries to pull the knife out of his hand. "Non, non." I speak, ripping the knife from his hand, his roar of pain giving me a sweet little tingle. Then I jabbed it into his other hand, he'd never be able to hold a gun in life again. Truly, I was a monster.
I turned my attention to Junior, the girl was clung to him, hoping for some form of salvation, but she would not get any from him of all people. He was even holding a gun, but he was nineteen, maybe twenty, he'd already pissed his pants. I look at her, and nudge my head at the door. "Go." She doesn't wait for me to say it again, and is gone forever. "Now you, Tony Gambetti Jr. you have been a real naughty boy, you know that?" as I finish, I drive an arrow into his left leg. I take this time to remove the gun from his grasp, I didn't need getting shot because his finger muscles flinched.
"Y-y-you." he stutters, unable to say much else out of fear and pain.
"Yes, me." Usually at this point, I'd just kill him and be done with it, but the spice demanded I prolong this. "You want to know why I've done this to you, and your father's organization?" he takes no action to respond, shock was a helluva drug. "The Irish." I state in a terrible Irish accent. It was a lie, If anything the South-Side Club House, ran by Paddy McCormack was worse than Tony Gambetti, the Irish where just more respected and than feared. "They pay me a hundred big ones, and I come to Empire and wreck your shit." I let out a snort, then I rip the arrow out of his leg and drive into his right eye.
Death would have been instant, but the past few minutes would have made this a traumatizing death enough. I was satisfied with my actions today, a job well done. I look behind me to see the carnage I'd unfolded, the death count rose from twenty-seven, to thirty-two. There was a was a fair amount of blood all over the insides, I was even covered in some of it. I would have taken more time to admire my handy work, if it weren't for the sounds of police sirens in the background getting ever closer. I wasn't afraid to kill cops, I just didn't need the trouble today.
I require my bow, and get the hell out of dodge. Eagerly awaiting the morning papers headlines.