#hashtag BACK FIRED

Chapter Two

The pilot scanned the terrain ten thousand feet below as the 2015 Ec 135T2E, IFR Configured chopper hovered in the bright morning sky. Danny 'the Don' remained impassive as the helicopter began to descend.

“That’s it,” said Danny, pointing a finger at a black car that was parked in the middle of the clearing, “right over there.”

“The car,” the pilot said, “I see it.”

The man at the back seat of the black car waited patiently as the chopper hovered in the sky briefly and then landed a few yards away.

The Don stepped down from the chopper as its rotors slowly whirled to a stop. Bending unnecessarily low as though to avoid the slowly spinning rotors, he made his way over to the parked car.

Arthur McAllister, the man in the back seat of the black car, stepped out in his long black overcoat. The two men walked away from the car, towards the pier, as they spoke in undertones, watching the small boats sailing in the lagoon at a safe distance.

“This guy, whatshisname…”

“Tony Fontane,” Danny said, in the same somber tone.

“Tony Fontane, what does he really know?” McAllister inquired tentatively, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“Assuming that there was no such big dude,” Danny said, “what did he hope to achieve, crashing in on my pad the way he did?”

McAllister glanced at Danny beside him as they walked.

“By the way, how did this guy get into your place, considering the security apparatchiks that you have in place?”

Danny shrugged, then paused. He looked up, gazing into McAllister’s eyes.

“You know what? That’s what scares me a little bit. Jack tells me this guy knocked down all my men and had Jack’s head hanging over the bannister rail with a threat to let him drop to the floor below unless he was taken to see me.”

“What?” McAllister exclaimed.

“He said he was trained by a good teacher. Didn't say who and I didn't ask. Now, a guy with such resources at his disposal wouldn’t go through all of that trouble just to drop a silly prank on me,” Danny said. “Obviously he had no intention of killing me. Because he could just as easily have done it. No, that’s why I think there is some meat to what he said.”

“It drives me nuts,” McAllister said. “My men have combed everywhere, and they came up with nothing. And my men are usually thorough. My conclusion is that there is not such a Mr. Big, at least not in New York City.”

The Don paused, his little snake's eyes boring holes into the taller man’s beady eyes.

“How do you think I’d look to this guy if I came back to him and said there was not such a Mr. Big? He might reconsider going to Gabriel, or even Lucas, and if they are able to come up with Mr. Big, where would that leave me? On the other hand, if I told him there was a Mr. Big out there, he’d expect me to lead him to Mr. Big. You see how dicey my position has become in this matter?”

They walked on.

“What does this guy, umm, Tony, want with Mr. Big? To settle an old score? Contract killer or what?” Danny shook his head miserably.

“Wouldn't say what. First, he wants confirmation, then we'll deal, in his own words.”

McAllister considered this for a moment.

“What if you take care of this guy so he doesn’t have to go to Gabriel or Lucas or whomever for that matter?”

“And how’s that?”