Affliction by S. W. Frank Read Free Book Online Page B

the flame. The deafening scream Tony would never forget. He would also never forget the cold detachment exhibited by his mentor or the rancid smell of human flesh as it burned.
    Nico motioned him over. The death cries had stopped. The only sounds were the torch’s hiss and the crackle of the charred meaty torso. “Come!”
    Tony joined the enforcer. Nico placed the torch in Tony’s hand. “Burn a hole through his eyes.”
    Tony inhaled the stench, cognizant that Nico observed, waiting for any form of hesitancy.  He allowed the fire to burn until skin became a grotesque red and then blackened. He did the same to the other eye. 
    The man was dead, seared like cattle for a crime that Tony knew nothing about because Nico didn’t tell him. If this was training, he listened only to instructions, and kept the questions at a minimum.
    Nico glanced at his watch. “Hungry?”
    “Not really,” Tony answered.
    Nico chuckled. “Suit yourself.” He then took the acetylene torch from Tony’s hand, lit the hem of the man’s pants, shut off the apparatus, shoved it inside the duffle bag at his feet and then walked out the abandoned shack clutching his work tools.
    Another day on the job is the attitude Nico had, which caused Tony to wonder if maybe sitting at a drafter’s desk wasn’t so bad after-all. Nico hadn’t changed since the first day they met. The man was a callous sonovabitch, yet the meticulous nature in which he worked garnered Tony’s respect. Tony figured he’d hang in there. Nico was an expert; apprentices sometimes became masters. Leonardo da Vinci apprenticed under Verrocchio and from his understanding, Nico Serano studied from a legend, a man nicknamed The Butcher.  
    Tony jumped when the flames leaped to the ceiling. “Fuck!” he exclaimed when the door closed behind his mentor to seal him in.
    He rushed out and the night air caused him to cough out smoke. He heard Nico laugh. “I thought you wanted to stay, what happened?”
    “I said I wasn’t hungry.” Tony snapped as he followed Nico across the unmarked path to the car.
    “That was my code. Pay attention. I asked if you were hungry to let you know it was time to leave, pronto.”
    “You could have said that.”
    “I did.” Nico tossed the bag in the backseat. The flames provided illumination to the deserted area. There was nothing for miles except an abandoned farm on the edge of Caccamo littered with olive groves. He opened the driver’s door, leaned an elbow on the upper frame and asked again, “Hungry?”
    “Yes, I am.”
    “Bene. Let’s get something to eat.”
    Tony nodded and entered the car. They were back on a dirt path heading toward what might be considered a road, but for Tony a carpet of gravel and patches of grass.
    Nico tapped the screen on the dashboard and classical music played. They rode in silence for several kilometers until Nico spoke. “You want to know about the guy?”
    “Not particularly,” Tony answered. His eyes were on the dark roadway, wondering whether this conversation was also part of the training.
    Nico replied, “What if I tell you he didn’t do a damn thing and he’s just a random person we picked up, how would you feel about that?”
    “I’d say you’re lying because a random guy wouldn’t know your name.”
    The somber Nico chuckled. “Ah, now you’re paying attention. Bene.” He lowered the volume to the instrumental music and told Tony to reach in the glove compartment and read the document inside.
    Tony did as told.
    Hot damn!
    They had just killed a relative of Don Vecchio. A mafia bigwig who Nico traced through Domingo’s phone records and a man the U.S, authorities were moving to arrest with the cooperation of the Italian police.
    The elimination had begun.
    Tony thought of his fiancé and began to consider whether to send her back to the U.S. He didn’t want her in the middle of these silent wars on foreign shores. Maybe he’d been too hasty. Agreeing to have the wedding in