Chapter 113
113
Istayed overnight in Amsterdam and went out drinking with Gunnar. I didn’t get drunk, though. My bender in London had cured me of ever wanting to get trashed again.
At least, until whatever heartbreaking bullshit came next.
Gunnar asked me about prison and what Dario was like. I told him everything I could – within the bounds of what I knew Dario would want to be kept secret.
After our third beer, I called it a night. Before I caught a taxi to my hotel, Gunnar said, “You know, if it doesn’t work out with the Italians, you can always come back here. I’ll help you out no matter what. You’re always gonna be my brother p>
“Thanks, man,” I said and got a little choked up. I hugged him goodnight and promised to keep him in the loop about what happened.
And then, the next morning, it was time to go.
I caught a 10 AM flight out of Amsterdam. As I boarded the plane, I texted Niccolo that I would arrive in Florence around noon.
The airline didn’t have first-class tickets, but they had business class, so I flew that.
I wouldn’t have ordinarily – business class was three times the price for just a two-hour flight, which seemed ridiculous to me – but I didn’t want to admit to Niccolo that I’d defied him from the very beginning.
As a civilian, I’d never flown anything other than economy before.
As a soldier, I’d flown a lot of missions crammed into the cargo hold of a C130 with a dozen other guys – but since that was far worse than economy seats on an airline, I didn’t count it.
I had to admit, business class was very nice. The way the flight attendants greeted you… then brought you a cocktail before liftoff… the entire experience was top-shelf. I thought to myself on several occasions, I could get used to this.
When I got off the plane, I checked my texts and saw one from Niccolo.
Wonderful! We’ll be expecting you for lunch around 1 PM. Safe travels.
I texted back, Just landed. See you soon.
Then I went through Customs and immediately got a taxi.
The drive into Tuscany was beautiful: rolling hills, vineyards, and olive groves. I stared out the window the entire time and watched the countryside go by.
About an hour outside Florence, the taxi driver turned off a small two-lane road onto a private drive. We drove through rows of thin cedar trees for a couple of minutes until we came to a ten-foot-tall stone wall with a massive iron gate.
“Is this the place?” the driver asked in Italian. “It’s the address you gave me p>
“I think so p>
“What should I do p>
“Hang on, let me – ”
Just then, my phone rang with a call from Niccolo.
“Hello p>
“Welcome! We can see you on the camera. I’m sending Adriano and Massimo down to get you. They’ll pay the driver, so don’t worry about that p>
“Okay p>
“See you at the house in just a moment! Ciao p>
And then he hung up.
“They’re sending someone to pick me up,” I told the driver. “They’ll pay you when they get here. How much do I owe you p>
“295 euros p>
I was glad the Rosolinis were paying. After buying the business-class ticket, I didn’t even have enough to cover the taxi fare.
Three minutes later, the iron gates parted, revealing a sleek black Mercedes sedan. Two men were already standing outside the car. I could see the resemblance to Dario in their faces, but the men couldn’t have been more different.
The one by the passenger door was 6’2”, trim and muscular under a flashy suit. He had stylishly cut hair and about three days’ worth of scruff. The most notable thing about him was the angry scowl on his face. He looked like somebody had just stolen a large amount of money from him, and he was going to murder whoever did it.
From what Dario had told me, I was guessing that was Adriano.
The guy by the driver’s door was a giant – at least 6’7”. He stood a little taller than Gunnar, but whereas Gunnar was all fat these days, this guy looked like he was 100% muscle. Not like a bodybuilder, but in an old-time circus strongman kind of way.
He wore an expensive but far more conservative suit than Adriano and had a short, neatly trimmed beard. Other than his height, his most conspicuous difference from Adriano was his placid expression. He wasn’t joyful like Gunnar, but definitely calm and unruffled.
Everything that Dario had told me suggested this was Massimo.
I got out of the car, making sure to keep my hands on the top of the door so the two brothers could see them at all times. It’s not that they looked particularly dangerous – but I was fully aware that I was walking into a mafia compound, which meant they were probably both armed. And I didn’t want to make anybody jumpy.
“You Lars?” Adriano called out. He sounded pissed off just saying my name.
“That’s me p>
As he walked over, I glimpsed a gun holster under his jacket. “Turn around p>
I did as ordered, and Adriano gave me a quick pat-down for weapons. Then he walked over to the taxi driver’s door.
The guy rolled down his window and looked out nervously. “Y-yes p>
“How much do we owe you?” Adriano barked.
“Uh, 295 euros,” the guy stammered.
Adriano pulled out a money roll at least two inches in diameter and peeled off a single note he handed to the driver. I figured it was 500 euros since that was the smallest domination that could cover the entire bill.
The driver reached into his jacket to make change –
“Keep it,” Adriano ordered. “Back out and turn around – there’s a big enough spot about 50 feet back p>
“Okay,” the driver said happily. “Thank you p>
Adriano just nodded, then met my gaze and gestured with his head as he walked back towards the sedan.
I followed Adriano inside the iron gates – which closed behind me with an electric hum.
“I’m Massimo,” the giant said pleasantly as I approached the car.
He held out his hand, and we shook.
“Lars,” I said.
I’m a tall guy with pretty big hands, but Massimo’s dwarfed mine.
“That’s Adriano,” Massimo said with a slight smile. “You’ll have to forgive his manners p>
“Fuck you,” Adriano said, though it felt more like banter than an insult.
“Have a nice trip?” Massimo asked.
“Excellent, thank you p>
“Good. Get in the back with Adriano and I’ll drive us up to the house p>
I got in the back behind Massimo. Adriano got in on the passenger side and sat with his back against the door, watching me like a cobra watches a mongoose.
Massimo turned the car around, and we headed up a gently sloping road through more cedars.
“So,” Adriano said. “You’re the Special Forces guy p>
“That’s me p>
Massimo peered at me in the rearview mirror. “Dario said you saved his life at least twice p>
“We had each other’s backs,” I said diplomatically.
“How?” Adriano asked. He sounded almost confrontational.
“How’d we have each other’s backs p>
“No – how’d you save his life p>
“He was exaggerating a little,” I said modestly. “The first time was when I saw a guy about to shiv him. I yelled out and ran over, but he had body armor on, so I didn’t do much more than just alert him to the danger p>
“Body armor?” Massimo asked in surprise.
“Makeshift body armor,” I clarified. “Phone books duct-taped around the abdomen. Enough to stop a blade p>
“That’s ingenious,” Massimo said.
“Yeah, I thought so, too,” I agreed.
I liked the gentle giant. He was pleasant and affable.
His brother… not so much.
“What was the second time?” Adriano asked like he was interrogating me.
“There was a riot. Dario and I got jumped by a guy in the Camorra and five of his goons. I took care of three of them, Dario took care of the other two, and…” I paused as I remembered Dario slashing the guy’s throat. “…then he took care of the boss p>
“Aristide Caproni,” Massimo murmured.
I hadn’t heard that name in over two years. “Yeah. Him p>
Massimo whistled.
Adriano just nodded slightly, like he approved.
“Thank you for taking care of our brother,” Massimo said. His gratitude was real and heartfelt.
“You’re welcome… but truthfully, he took care of me just as much. I would’ve crossed the wrong person and been dead in a few months if he hadn’t befriended me and shown me the ropes p>
As Massimo and I chatted, I watched the cedars give way to olive groves and vineyards. Then we reached an open space amongst the trees and gardens, and my eyes nearly bugged out of my head.
I’d assumed Dario’s family was wealthy – but I hadn’t been expecting this.
At the top of the hill was a gigantic mansion, three stories tall with two large wings. It looked like something out of a movie.
Massimo pulled the car around a circular drive in front of the house. Two guys in black suits were standing outside. One was young, maybe 25; the other was middle-aged, around 45.
The young guy at least looked alert. The older guy was puffing on a cigarette like he was on a break.
When Massimo, Adriano, and I exited the car, the young guy raced over and got behind the wheel like a valet. He steered the car down the driveway and headed for a humongous building in the distance – what looked like a garage.
The 45-year-old nodded at Adriano and Massimo as they walked past. He eyed me curiously as he continued to puff on his cigarette.
Massive marble steps led up to a pair of bronze doors at the front of the mansion. Before we reached them, the doors opened and a clean-shaven guy in a white shirt walked out with a mischievous grin.
“The international man of mystery has arrived! I’m Niccolo – good to finally meet you!” he said as he took my hand and shook vigorously. “Lunch will be a little delayed – my uncle and father wanted to meet you first, but we’ll eat afterwards. Are you starving p>
“No, I’m fine p>
“Good, good – come right this way p>
We entered a magnificent foyer with an enormous crystal chandelier. Niccolo turned right and headed towards a pair of closed wooden doors.
“See you later,” Massimo said as he and Adriano continued through the foyer and out of sight.
“They’re not coming with us?” I asked Niccolo.
“No, this will be a private meeting,” Niccolo said as he opened the wooden doors and walked through. “We have business to discuss p>