Mick Sinatra: For Once In My Life Read Free Page A

orchestrated to the last man.    And the car that penetrated their defenses, the car that had just
moments before gunned-down those guards, was now racing toward the very steps
where Mick Sinatra himself, the prize, stood at the top.   They raced for a sidelong collision with
Carissa and the parked limo.   Carissa
pressed on the gas and accelerated the limo out of harm’s way, and Mick’s men
began firing at the car whose occupants were only just beginning to draw.
    But as
Mick’s men were in a shootout with the men in the car, Mick drew out his big
guns that he kept concealed in his coat.   With one gun in either hand he began running fearlessly down the steps,
thinking about Shane and the fact that these very men were probably the ones who
killed him.   He was firing nonstop, as
the car raced wildly toward the very steps he was running down.   But unlike his men, he was hitting every man
he aimed for, including the driver.
    When the
driver went down, the car lost control and careened into the bottom step in a
hard crash.   But the acceleration was too
great to stop its’ momentum.   The car
flipped in the air as if it was riding a wave, and crashed back down, belly up,
as if a monster truck had just crushed it.   If Mick’s shots didn’t completely kill every one of those men inside,
the horrific way their automobile landed did.
    And Mick
stood there, at the top of a mangled empire, looking, not as a man under siege,
but as a businessman assessing risk.   He
was less concerned about what his next move needed to be, and more concerned
about his enemy’s next move.    Their move
would determine his move because it wasn’t clear to him why they would hit
Flo.   She no longer worked for him.   And why would they mistake Shane for his son?
    But before
he could fully incorporate it, another car drove onto Flo’s estate.   Mick and Leo and his surviving men drew their
weapons ready to fire again.   Until the
door opened and Barkley, one of Mick’s men, stumbled out.   “They hit Silvio Fontaine,” he yelled, blood
on his chest.   “And Paul Ricci’s place
too!”
    “Who fell?”
Mick asked him.
    Barkley
shook his head, as if he was reliving a horrific scene.   “Who didn’t?” he asked.   “At least twelve of our men went down.   I counted at least twelve.”
    “It’s
willy-nilly, boss,” Leo said to Mick.   “It’s like they’re toying with you.   Fontaine and Ricci are two of your operatives.   They don’t know shit about your current activities.
They’re ghostbusters.   What the fuck do
they have to do with anything? And what would Flo know?   She doesn’t even work for you anymore.   It’s willy fucking nilly!   It’s like they’re trying to toy with you.”
    “Or distract
me,” Mick said, his eyes still intense, his mind racing in too many different
directions.
    Leo looked
at Mick.   “Distract you from what?”
    “They’re
after something big,” Mick said.
    “But what?”
Leo asked.
    “What is the
biggest, most important---?”
    And as soon
as Mick said those words, his heart nearly stopped.   “ Rosalind ,”
he said as if he could barely say it, and began running toward the limousine.
    “What is it,
boss?” Leo asked anxiously, running with him.
    “Get every
man I have in New York to Rosalind,” Mick said.   “I want a fucking army on her!”
    And Leo was
pulling out his cell phone, gathering that army, while Mick was pulling out
his, attempting to phone his lady love, to warn her, as they raced to the
limousine.
    Because Mick
knew it even if they didn’t.   Because
Mick knew, if they harmed one hair on Rosalind’s head, he was going to live up
to his name.   Mick the Tick was going to
drop the bomb.

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

CHAPTER ONE

 
    Six Months Earlier

 
    Roz Graham
walked around the windowless studio as her students rehearsed in groups of
two.   With her arms folded, her heels
stepping high, and her