The light streamed through the barred window set into the old stone wall, creating a warm patch on the floor. That did nothing to warm the room up, and the young woman shivered on the old wooden bed. It had been two days since she had been snatched off the street outside her house, and she desperately wanted to get out. She watched as a mote of dust floated lazily into the sunbeam, and then out, and felt a warm wet trickle down her face. Nothing could help her now, not with Liborio Fragale holding her captive. They were ruthless, even with women and children.
Elsewhere in the compound where the young woman was held, Joe Fragale put his feet up on the old oak desk in his office, his lukewarm coffee abandoned. His second in command and right-hand man, Vince ‘Vinnie’ Gidorano, sat opposite him, reading a report that had just come in. “This is ridiculous, Joe.”
Joe nodded. The business had control over law enforcement, most judges, and even had moles in the FBI and CIA, but that didn’t change the fact that there was one foil to their rule; the ninjas. They seemed like they were everywhere. Joe’s people kept coming back to him broken, and often having incomplete tasks. The report in Vinnie’s hand was concerning the previous week, in which there was supposed to be a hit on two stores in the CBD, the owners of which refused to pay protection money. Both hits were thwarted by two separate ninjas, which enraged Joe. He looked over at Vinnie. “There must be something we can do.”
Vinnie shook his head. “The cops either won’t talk, or they don’t know anything.”
“What about the judges? Lawyers? Anything?”
Vinnie put the file down on the desk. “None of them know anything about these guys. But my contacts in the FBI haven’t gotten back to me yet. It’s just a waiting game now.”
Joe frowned and picked up his forgotten cup of – now cold – coffee. “Don’t make me wait too long, Vinnie. Because these people, they’re ruining the business. And I don’t like people ruining my business.”