SurvivorZ: Grave Harbor

21

FRANKIE

Frankie Manconi stormed over to the group watching the main gate with his cheeks puffed out like ripe tomatoes. "What the sweet Goddamn fuck does that bastard DiMarco think he's doing?"

Camilla stood guard with two other soldiers. Neither man attempted to reply to his pointed inquiry. They both seemed to have suddenly developed an intense fixation with either their shoelaces or the weather.

Camilla noticed this too and sighed, realizing that she was the sacrificial goat elected to bear the brunt of his raging temper.

"He could be trying to buy some time to shore up his defenses," she suggested. "He must know he's outmatched."

"Or, more likely, he's baiting us, and plans to hit from one of the other bridges to the north or south," he argued.

"We have eyes on the highway and the Central Avenue Bridge. If that were the case, our lookouts would radio us."

"Assuming they're not as fucking useless as those idiots who were supposed to be watching Kendrick and Highland. How the hell could they miss DiMarco blowing up my bridges?"

"In all fairness, they weren't watching the bridge crossings, sir," she said. "They were watching for traffic on this side of the river. Nobody expected—"

"Fucking Carmine!" he spat, too caught up in his fury to listen to a word she said. "I want him dead. I want his family dead. I want his house burned to the ground, and I want to shit on the ashes."

Camilla fell silent. She nodded, tightlipped, her face losing color.

"Heads up!" one of the guards shouted, pointing at a pair of figures approaching the gate. "We've got company."

Reprieved from her boss' flaring temper, Camilla drew her sidearm and pointed it at the closed gate. Two men stepped out of the shadows and came to a stop on the other side of the chain link fence.

Despite the gag over his mouth, Manconi recognized Harris immediately. The man accompanying him remained concealed behind his back. It wasn't until he peeked out from cover that he recognized Carmine DiMarco's pit bull.

"Graves! You've got a lot of balls showing up here," he barked.

"Easy," the enforcer replied, gingerly pulling his gun from its holster and holding it up in the air. He slowly placed it on the ground by his feet. "I'm not looking to cause trouble. I'm here with a peace offering from Mr. DiMarco. I just want to talk, that's all."

"I doubt that."

"Can I come in, or do you want to do this through a fence?"

Camilla glanced at the don. Before she could voice her opposition on the matter, he was already nodding to his men. "Open the gate."

Carl Fucking Graves. Christmas had just come early. He'd pined for the chance to watch this asshole bleed out for almost as long as he wanted to see his boss get what was coming to him. Now he was just giving himself up? It was almost too good to be true. No matter. He wasn't about to let this opportunity slip through his fingers now.

He studied the hitman's features and body language as the metal bars rolled open. Graves gave nothing away. He remained statue-like, partially hidden behind his bound captive, and waited patiently for the gate to open.

"Don't you fucking move, Graves," Camilla snarled. "We'll shoot you both if we have to."

"I'm unarmed," he replied. "You have my word. I'm only here to talk."

"If your boss sent you here to offer terms of his surrender, you should know that I'm not going to be satisfied with anything less than his head on a platter," Manconi said.