Turn the Other Coat
Giulio lit his next cigarette from the embers of the last. The last few rattled softly in the pack, and he wondered how long hed been here, stamping his feet against the cold night fog that rolled in over Crey Cove. Several smokes worth, that much was certain. On nights like this, a smoke was a panacea, against the damp and chill if nothing else.
No amount of nicotine could calm his nerves tonight, though. Every time a car rattled along the bridge overhead, every time a distant light momentarily illuminated the roadside shadows where he stood, his heart skipped, and a shiver ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.
Giulio kept telling himself this was the right thing to do. The honourable thing. Boss Carmine had always said that the Family looked after everyone; that was why they were a Family. The police, they just looked after the rich folk and corporations. The Family was there to represent the interests of the other people. And that was why Boss Carmine had never gotten involved with these newer gangs; their interests were, so to speak, out of the Familys purvue. No good can come of it, Giulio, hed said.
But Boss Carmine was gone now; even he couldnt beat old age. And almost as soon as hed gone, the Superadine had started rolling in. Giulio had seen the effects of Dyne on those addicted to it; convulsions, psychoses, mutation. And that was for Superadine that was properly made the contaminated gunk that came out of the substandard Troll and Warrior street labs made regular Dyne look like candy.
Despite that, Dyne remained all too popular among the kids in the neighbourhoods, the ones that hoped to take the easy road into the Dons favour with a few flashy superpowers. Too many of them reminded Giulio of himself as a kid, hanging with his crew and doing legwork for the Button Men before they grew up and joined the Family proper. And too many of them were getting seduced by the lure of Dyne, and not growing up at all.
It was one thing to disagree with your Boss. It was quite another, though, to take the next step, and call the Paragon Police. Informant was the dirtiest word the Family knew; a betrayal of every principle the underworld had.
Yet that was what he would soon be, as soon as his anonymous police contact showed up. Many sleepless nights had gone into this decision he was betraying men he might have called brother, in happier times. He was selling out his own Family. At least he wasnt doing it for something as dirty as money, not like that rat fink Johnny Gambini, who now slept with the fishes somewhere out there in Independence Ports black water. Giulio told himself that this was the principled thing, repeated it to himself over and over in his head. Fat Tony wasnt doing right by the Family. Im doing the right thing, he insisted. Im doing what Boss Carmine would have told me to.
His own life was the least of his concerns, which was fortunate, since turning stoolie guaranteed an early grave if you were found out. Giulio worried about the younger kids in the Family, worried what might happen to them when the police and heroes started cracking down. He worried about his own relatives, the blood ones; his aunt in Kings Row, his sister and her kids down in New York. Theyd be dead too, if he were discovered; the Family made sure the consequences of betrayal were well known.
The rhythmic slap of waves against the bridge pylons grew louder, and Giulio squinted out at the water, before realising that the sound wasnt coming from there at all, but rather from the shadows further along the path. Three figures emerged, not ten feet away, and Giulios blood turned to ice in his veins.
Giulio, Giulio, Giulio, the lead man said softly, an unpleasant smile on his crooked lips. Mighty cold out for a constitutional, wouldnt you say? He shrugged theatrically in his long woollen trenchcoat.
I got nothing to say to you mooks, Giulio sneered. Somehow, the knowledge that he was dead brought with it a certain calm there wasnt any going back now.
Course not, Giulio, the first man continued, conversationally. But I bet youd have had a lot to say to the cops, hmm?
Giulios hand closed around the pistol in his pocket maybe hed be able to take one of them with him. How did you know about that?
Oh no, my friend, the Capo tsked. Cant give away all of the Familys secrets. I could tell you, of course, but then Id have to kill you. He chuckled humourlessly.
Giulio ground his teeth. Boss Carmine woulda tossed gimps like you out long before you could disgrace his name.
Boss Carmine aint boss in these parts any more. The Capos voice grew hard now, and one of his henchmen popped a switchblade with a harsh, sibilant hiss. The blade caught a stray scintilla of light, almost appearing to ignite for a second. Boss Antonio calls the shots now just a shame not everyone understands that.
Fat Tony? Giulio scoffed. Hes still a dirtbag just a dirtbag in a cheap suit now. The three men bristled, and the one with the knife ran the flat of the blade menacingly over his unshaven cheek.
Youll die quick, Giulio, he said. But your sister and her kids well make sure they scream. A lot.
You always were a punk, Manolo, Giulio growled, and went for his gun.
He never got it out of his pocket. Without warning, Manolo slapped his free hand up against one of the bridges wooden pylons and drove his switchblade through his own hand, the knife sinking into the wood with a sickening crunch. He screamed in agony, but then snapped his head forward viciously, as if jerked by an invisible string, slamming it into the pylon. Slowly, Manolo slid into merciful unconsciousness, dangling obscenely from one hand like a broken marionette.
What ? The Capo looked around in shock, his own pistol out but pointing aimlessly at an unknown enemy. He looked to his other henchman, but he was curled up on the path, covering his head with his hands.
No
the big man blubbered, shaking and weeping like a child. Please
no
no more monsters
Bewildered, the Capo stared at Giulio as if expecting him to somehow be doing this, but then his face went blank, his eyes crossed grotesquely, and his gun slipped from nerveless fingers. A moment later, both he and the pistol hit the ground with solid thumps.
Giulio stepped forward slowly, still in shock. Slowly, his senses returned, and he became aware of a police siren in the distance. Theyre on their way, Giulio, a soft voice said just over his shoulder, and he whirled, raising his gun.
A slender figure melted out of the shadows before his eyes, a ghostly form in black and grey, almost a shadow itself. It was a man though; a dark hood and blue crystal visor obscured his eyes, but an enigmatic smile played across his lips, and he lifted a gloved finger slowly. Put the gun down, he said, and Giulios hand opened of its own accord, his fingers refusing to obey him.
Where did you come from? he demanded, his voice quavering only slightly.
Been here the whole time, actually, the man said, kneeling to disarm the incapacitated gunmen. I just havent let you see me. Giulio peered intently at his hooded face.
I heard of you, he said slowly, wagging a finger that was now back under his control. They call you Spyware. Tommy Francone saw you you busted him and his whole crew when they were doing a deal last month in Platinum Lake. They turned themselves in begged to be locked up. Jimmy the Geeks still in hospital thinks hes a dog.
Spyware nodded knowingly. Your friend Tommy has a strong mind I couldnt fully erase his memory. He stood up, the edges of his armoured suit hissing slightly as they glided over each other. Oh, and for what its worth, I think youre doing the right thing too.
Giulio blinked, nonplussed. He felt the irrational urge to plug his ears with his fingers, as if that might stop his thoughts leaking out. Instead, he said haltingly, Hey my family
- had the sudden urge today to go to the police and place themselves into protective custody, Spyware finished for him. He pulled the edge of his hood down a little, turning away.
Giulio stared down at the whimpering Button Man for a long moment, watching him curl up and start sucking his thumb. Hey, he called after Spyware, hey thanks. His voice was lowered now, in gratitude. Thanks I wont forget this.
Spyware shot a half-smile over his shoulder. Sure you will.
