Page 56 of Marcello

I was expecting Buzzcut to say, Make 100% sure the guy’s over there.

Or, Tell him we want to talk to him and send him over.

Nope.

Not even close.

Buzzcut smirked. “I want you to shoot him.”

I stared in silence for a couple of seconds, not quite comprehending what I’d just heard.

“…uh… what?”

“I want you to go over there and fuckin’ shoot him.”

“…are you serious?”

Buzzcut stopped smirking and fixed me with a cold, psychopathic stare. “Yes. I am.”

I recalled Fausto’s words:

My dear Marcello… buying drugs is the LEAST illegal thing you’re going to do over the next few years.

I was beginning to see what he meant.

“…but… why?!”

“Because he works for a rival clan, and I want their territory.”

I remembered that Fausto had used the word ‘clan,’ too.

The kind of information I seek is more likely to be found in the higher ranks of whatever Camorra clan you end up infiltrating.

“Why can’t you do it?” I asked.

Lametta joined in: “Because this is the tryout, bitch!”

Buzzcut shot him a pissed-off look, like Why are you fuckin’ TALKING?

Lametta slumped down like a whipped dog.

Buzzcut turned back to me. “Me and Lametta can’t do it because if we roll up on him, he’ll recognize us from a mile away and start shooting.

“Not only that, if any of his friends are around, they’ll recognize us, too. They’ll either shoot us, or they’ll tell their boss what we did, and it’ll start a war.

“But you? You’re a fuckin’ nobody. You can walk right up to him and he’ll never see it coming. Plus, if any of his buddies are around, they won’t know who you’re working for.”

“What if his friends start shooting at me?”

“Guess you better shoot back, then,” Buzzcut said with a smirk. “Either that or run.”

“But… I can’t shoot him,” I whispered in horror.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Buzzcut said in mock sympathy. “Because I just ordered you to go kill somebody. If you went to the cops and told them, I could get ten years in jail. So I guess I’m going to have to get rid of the only witness.”

I heard him cock the hammer of his gun inside his jacket.

Click.