The gunshot thundered and Carla squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the bullet slamming through her brain, the final sensation she'd ever feel before darkness and whatever followed it. But after a moment, she felt the blood running down her arm from her previous gunshot wounds and she realized that she was still breathing, still alive.
She opened her eyes as Mario's grip on her slipped away. There was a neat red hole just below his left eye. A high-pitched whine escaped his lips and his eyes went glassy as he fell to the ground on his back, lying still.
Don stood with his smoking revolver in his hand and a faint smirk on his lips. “Don't you never try an' out-draw a Texan,” he said. “Even with a head start, you'll lose every damn time.”
Carla started toward the burning house, but Gio stopped her. The first floor had become a roaring inferno, and pieces of the ceiling were falling like flaming comets. “What are you doing?” Gio asked. “Are you crazy?”
“The journals!” she yelled. “I need those notes! To bring down the rest of them!”
Gio looked at the fire and took a deep breath. “You're hurt,” he said. “I'll do it.” Before Carla could stop him, he ran directly into the blaze.
Carla stood on the lawn helplessly. Each second that passed with him still inside seemed like an eternity, and Carla wished she hadn't tried to get the journals after all. Even if they didn't have enough to go after the other families, even if they had to settle for Mario's dead body, it wasn't worth Gio's life.
It wasn't worth their chance at a life together.
Finally, Gio emerged from the flames onto the front stoop. His face was smeared with soot, and smoldering debris clung to his expensive suit as he cradled the notebooks protectively. “Here you go,” he said to Carla, forcing a charming smile and trying to catch his breath. “These oughtta be worth a promotion or two for you, huh?”
Before she knew what she was doing, Carla threw her working arm around Gio and kissed him. The journals fell to the lawn as Gio embraced her, returning her kiss.
Carla heard Don's voice call out warningly. “Carla...”
Yes, I know this looks weird, Don, she thought, continuing to kiss Gio. I've got a lot of explaining to do, I realize that, and I know we're standing too close to the fire, but please, just let me have this one moment first and then I'll...
She heard a hoarse cry of pain and rage a split-second before she felt strong arms wrap around both of their legs, tackling them to the ground. She smelled sweat and cigars and heavy cologne as Mario's large body crawled on top of them both, his fists pounding at them. The blood from the hole in his face—and the much larger hole at the back of his head—sprinkled down on them both as he punched at them wildly.
“Took my son you took him you took everything I'll kill you I'll fucking kill you both you rat bitch Fed...” Mario jabbered madly, spittle flying from his lips. His meaty hands wrapped around Carla's throat.
As she struggled with Mario, Carla saw Gio reach over, his fingertips clawing for Mario's dropped gun. Don and the other agents were moving toward them, but before they could pull Mario off of Carla, Gio's hand wrapped around the handle of the gun. He raised it, emptying the entire clip into Mario's head.
Mario slumped forward, dead.
Don looked from Carla to Gio to Mario, then back to Carla again, astonished.
“Well, this sure has been some kinda day, hasn't it?” Don observed, tucking his gun away. “I dunno 'bout you two, but I could sure use a drink.”
Chapter 30
Carla
Six Months Later
Carla tucked the last few personal items from her desk into the cardboard box, then taped it up.
Since Mario's death, she'd been very busy. Even while in the hospital recovering from her injury, she'd meticulously gone through every page of every journal. Gio translated the code the notes were written in, then worked her way backward through hundreds of open case files—local, state, and federal—to connect the notes to the crimes they referenced. She used this information to build staggering cases against the remaining members of the Mancini family, as well as two other major crime organizations in Chicago and one in Indianapolis.
Dozens of murder charges. Hundreds of charges of bribery and judicial tampering. Thousands of charges of theft and racketeering, all accompanied by airtight evidence and a star witness.
It was the largest, most successful organized crime crack-down the Bureau had undertaken in almost thirty years. Almost three hundred hardened criminals had been arrested and were awaiting trial, half of whom were willing to roll over on the other half in return for reduced sentences.