Part VII
The Devoni Compound was on the outskirts of the
northern end of the city in a gated community known as ‘The Woods’ which is
home to the mansions of the cities wealthiest citizens and the Devoni crime
family. Dermot and I drove in silence as we exited the city and drove past the
ancient oaks that lined the road leading into ‘The Woods’.
Dermot pulled the Pinto off to the side before we
reached the gate of the community. we wouldn’t get past the guard without
killing him and since I didn't plan on killing any innocent people we had to
formulate a different entry plan.
“We don’t want to leave the car here, let’s pull it
out of sight. There was a dirt trail a little further back. Put it there and we
can cut through the woods and approach the compound from the back.”
Dermot turned the car around and parked on the dirt
road out of sight from traffic. We stepped out into the snowy woods. Dermot
called me to the back of the Pinto.
“Ya gonna need more fire power than those pistols ya
be carrying.”
He opened the trunk of the hatchback and lifted up
the floor which had two TEC-9 machine guns and a 12 gauge Remington 870 pump
action shotgun hidden where a spare tire would be normally. I grabbed the
Remington and loaded up my pockets with extra ammunition. Dermot grabbed the
two TEC-9s.
“Do ya know where we be headed to?”
“Vaguely,” I smiled a bit, “Just follow the scent of
spaghetti sauce.”
“I'll lead then,” he said without even cracking a
smile at my joke. The Irish don't seem to have a sense of humor.
We headed through the woods past multi-million dollar
mansions inhabited by the who's who of Salem Bay. We trekked around a large
frozen pond where deer stood staring at us and crows squawked in the trees as
the snow began to come down in large clumps and the sky turned orange with the
approaching sunset.
Dermot lifted his hand in the air as a signal to stop;
he took a seat in the snow behind a fallen tree. I took a seat and joined him
on the frozen forest floor leaning the Remington against the tree trunk.
“Tha next home is tha compound. Are ya sure ya want
to do this? No turnin back boy-o.”
“I don't have much of a choice in this. If you need
to head back I'll understand.”
We sat in silence for a moment as Dermot peered over
the fallen tree looking at the rear of the compound where two men stood guard
about fifty yards away standing at the rear entrance of the Devoni compound
which was surrounded by a eight foot stone wall.
“Ya got a smoke?” I handed Dermot a cigarette and lit
it for him, “I'm with ya through this. I have me own reasons for this mission.
I'm afraid I'm not just bein' a nice guy.” He cracked a smile and took a long
drag from his cigarette. I lit one of my own.
“I'll take the help regardless of your motivation and
I truly appreciate you saving my ass back there.”
“No problem laddie. Any friend of Patty is a friend
of all tha Irish in this fair city.”
I pulled out my silenced Walther PPK from its holster
and turned around and stabled my hand on the log and pointed the barrel down at
the guard closest to me.
“Can ya hit them with that from here?”
I pulled the cigarette out of my mouth and tossed it
into the snow and put my hand back onto the trigger, I stabilized my breathing
and waited for the right moment before pulling the trigger. The guard dropped
to his knees holding his throat trying to prevent blood from spilling out: it
was too late. He dropped face first to the ground. The other guard turned and
ran toward him getting down on one knee to check his partner's pulse. Once he
saw that the other guard was dead he stood up and I pulled the trigger again.
He dropped on top of his fallen comrade.
“Aye, I guess I'll keep me mouth shut next time.”
I stood up, grabbed the pump, and started toward the
stone wall. I leaned my back against it. Once I was flush against it Dermot followed.
We slunk along the wall until we reached the gate. I squatted and peered my
head around to see into the compounds yard.
“We got about two on the patio by the back door and
at least one on the top deck, but he is on the phone so we should be able to
take out the two on the patio before he can notice.”
I gave the gate a shove with my right hand without
exposing myself to the Deovni muscle.
“Locked?” Dermot questioned, I nodded, “Maybe one of
them has a key.” Dermot motioned toward the dead guards. He laid on his stomach
and crawled over to them. I waited as he searched both their pockets. He
crawled back to my position. “This remote may be our ticket.” He held up what
looked like a clicker for a car, but instead of a car maker's logo it had the Devoni
family crest.
“Let's hope that opens it. I am in no condition to be
climbing walls.” I felt small drops of warm blood against my cold skin.
“Aye, lets get this done so we can get ya over to the
doc.”
I peaked around the corner of the wall and put a
bullet from my PPK into each of the guards on the patio, as the second one hit
the ground I signaled to Dermot and with a push of a button the gate swung
open. I grabbed the Remington and snuck into the yard: Dermot followed. The
sliding glass door onto the Patio began to open, so I took a position behind a
bench near a small garden and Dermot ducked behind a bush to the right of me.
Three men walked outside laughing until they spotted the two corpses bleeding
on the imported Italian stone patio. Two of them pulled out small sub machine
guns and the other one checked the bodies. After seeing that they were dead he
blew a whistle. The two with the sub-machine guns began walking toward the open
gate. I looked over at my Irish partner as he was making the sign of a cross
and kissing a rosary bead he kept in his pocket.
Shots started hitting the bench I was hiding behind:
the man on the deck was paying attention to us. The attention of the three
goombas in the yard was fully on us. Dermot lifted one of his Tec-9s over the
top of the bush and fired blindly at them. They ran and took cover on the patio
behind two large marble columns. The bullets from above stopped as the goon
changed clips. I took it as an opportunity to move my position.
I darted over to the left of my current position
hiding behind a small shed in the furthest corner of the compound's vast back
yard. I now had a better view of the patio and of the two guards hiding there.
Dermot continued to fire blindly over the top of the bush hitting everything
but the targets. Planters on the patio shattered and bullets ricocheted off the
bullet proof French doors that led into the home. I took each opportunity I
could to try and take out the person on the deck, he had the best vantage point
to get a shot at Dermot, but I couldn't get a clean shot because he ducked
behind the deck fence which was also lined with bullet proof glass. The whole
fucking house was bullet proof.
Two more Devoni Thugs came out onto the deck. I was
able to take one of them down with a beautiful head shot that impressed even
myself. I knew then if this whole assassin thing doesn't work out I could
become an Olympic Biathlon athlete: I just need to learn how to ski.
Dermot finally was able to take out one of the
targets on the patio with his wild shooting. I wondered how much ammo he could
possibly have left, but he just kept reloading clips and firing. He was a
lunatic. I whistled for him to join me behind the shed. It seemed like a better
place to hide and we could discuss some sort of plan.
He nodded and fired over the bush once more, but this
time a bullet from above ripped off his hand. He screeched in pain and clutched
his wrist. He fell into the snow as blood spouted from where his hand once was.
“Mothafucker!”
Leaving the Remington behind the shed I ran back to
the bench and slid behind it through the soft snow which was splotched with red
dots. I ripped off a sleeve of my jacket and tied it around Dermot's wrist to
try and slow the bleeding. I stayed low enough to not give any enemy a clear
shot at me. Once the tourniquet was tied I stepped back out from behind the
bush leaving Dermot there. I rushed back to my safe spot behind the shed,
holstered my Walther PPK, and picked up the shotgun. I turned and fired toward
the patio and ducked back before they returned the favor.
I looked over where Dermot was lying in the snow, but
just his blood his was there. He was rushing toward the house firing his TEC-9
with his one good hand. With the two people on the patio distracted I went
around the shed and approached the patio from the side putting shotgun bullets
into the remaining goons. Dermot met me on the patio.
“Aye, it could be worse.” he winced as he spoke, “I
hit the bastards up stairs.” Dermot collapsed to his knees dropping his gun
next to him, “Go in without me, I'll be here when ya done.”
I picked him up and propped him up against one of the
columns and returned the gun to his working hand. I opened the door and headed
into the compound.
“Good luck boy-o.”
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