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I stepped into the hangar, but stayed by the door as I watched Fred walk to the plane and board it. The waiting was excruciating. I expected the plane to explode at any second.
I was shocked as shit when Fred walked out of the stairs and down the stairs twenty minutes later, a small black box looking thing in his hand. When he carried it over to me, I didn't know whether to run or stay and ask questions.
"It's perfectly safe now, sir," Fred said as he held it out. "I'd say whoever made this device barely knew what they were doing. The bomb is rudimentary at best, which is probably why it didn't go off before now."
I eyed the little black box with trepidation. "It can't go off, right?"
"No, sir." Fred held out his hand and showed me two brass cylinders. "It no longer has the parts needed to set it off."
That was a relief.
"So, you don't think it was a professional?"
"Whoever made it did have some skill," Fred explained, "but not on a professional level. He might be just starting out in the business and trying to make a name for himself or something."
That knowledge didn't get me any closer to figuring out who had done this. I was still clueless.
Chapter Seven
~ Anthony ~
I could see Vito and Fred talking through the window looking into the hangar. They seemed to be in a heated talk. I assumed it was about the little black box Fred had carried off the airplane.
They could be talking about anything I suppose.
What did mafia men talk about? It was a curious question that I really had no answer for. I knew it was something I'd need to learn about though, just like I needed to learn about everything else.
Still wanted that drink.
I leaned closer to Vinnie. "One mafia don to another, do private jets have alcohol onboard?"
Vinnie snickered. "The good ones do."
Wonder if I had a good one?
"Apparently, I own four. Do you think that means they have alcohol?"
Vinnie smiled at me. "More than likely."
"God," I groaned, "I hope so."
"Long day?" Vinnie asked.
"Oh yeah." The last twenty-four hours had been insane. I wasn't so sure I wanted to know what the next twenty-four hours would bring.
"Can I give you a little advice?"
"Sure." I turned and gave Vinnie my full attention. Considering how long this man had been in the mafia business, I'd take any advice he could give me.
"The mafia life is hard. The older generation tends to be pretty rigid in their belief system, which"—Vinnie let out a chuckle—"was probably established in the dark ages."
"Okay." I was so confused.
"Nicky told me that you are gay." When my eyes rounded, Vinnie quickly shook his hand at me. "Don't worry. He didn't tell anyone except me, but he was concerned about you."
"Concerned why?"
"Mafia isn't gay."
