Final Call for Mercy

31

Nicolas

I walked beside Mateo as we headed toward the cars a few meters from the jet. It took a whole lot of reassuring and persistence before Sia reluctantly accepted me and Jonathan coming along. If she wanted to, she could confine me to the house and force me to stay. It'd be breaking serious rules to defy her orders. And Jonathan, although not her employee but her guest and family, one word to the guards and he'd have been chained to his bed.

Very obviously, she did not take such drastic measures. 

Her face was a mask of controlled anger and dread as she watched us leave. She didn't let me kiss her goodbye, either. It hurt a bit, I have to admit. I get her worry with the threat surrounding us, but her protectiveness can feel in undermining. I was born and bred to be a perfect killer. A perfect soldier. The Alfonsi family carries a long history of being the best of the best at what they do. 

Dove il proiettile trafigge la pelle, l'onore giace.
(Where the bullet pierces the skin, honor lies.)

It was the one phrase I could always remember. It had been engraved into my brain before I could talk. Before I could say mother and father, I was expected to recite the words that were passed on from generation to generation. From my mother to us. One died, the other has forgotten it, leaving me to be the last Alfonsi to carry the legacy. A legacy I'll teach my children, continuing the legacy onward.

And then there was the vow. I was supposed to learn it as I got older and started actually taking jobs. I never got to, only Esteban did. Giovanni was the one who taught it to me, when I felt like I didn't have anything to hold onto. No honor, no skill, no instinct. He taught me what my parents should have. What my parents failed to follow. And ordered me to never follow in their footsteps.

Mi taglierò la gola e mi taglierò il cuore prima che un nemico possa battermi.
(I will cut my own throat and carve out my heart before an enemy can beat me.)

I have followed that vow for myself, for my brother, for my sister and for my parents every day since then. I kill carrying the honor and name of our family. The fear I evoke in the people who know about me is for them. The Alfonsi line will never fade and our legacy will remain forever.

No one, not even Anastasia will take that away from me. So, mad as she may have been, I came. I came because an Alfonsi doesn't hide and an Alfonsi doesn't submit. We bow our heads only to those who gave us life. 

Her worry makes my heart swell. But I am alive because of myself. And it will always remain that way.

My body jerked forward as Mateo braked hard enough to make the tires screech. The seatbelt locked, sending my body slamming back into the chair. "What the..." the words melted on my tongue as I looked at Mateo. His face was frantic and his hands worked hastily as the car lurched forward again and he made a right turn rough enough to make my shoulder collide with the door. "What's wrong?" 

His eyes went to the rearview mirror before he glanced quickly at me. Just then, I noticed the earbud tucked into his ear and his phone on the cupholder. "It was Martin," he glanced again at the mirror and I realized he was making sure the other cars followed. "One of his factories was set on fire with all his men inside. And," he looked at me just as he flew past a red light, "he had noticed a unknowns that had been lurking around his house, but didn't want to jump the gun without backup. Two stayed behind while the other six or so left. Most of Martin's men stayed at the factories to fight off the others. That was our plan. He was heading there when he noticed there were fewer of the unknowns."

Cazzo, cazzo, cazzo. This is bad. We were supposed to get there with enough time to play defense against their attack, in a way that gave us stability and something to surround. Now, we have to go into the action, unprepared and rushed.