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Rimanoa - Vladimir Anderson

Rimanoa

Автор

Страниц

65

Год

2023

Faust, known as the infamous "Silencer" within the ranks of the Sicilian mafia, serves as their unparalleled hitman. The lethal combination of his cunning intellect and ruthless demeanor instills fear in the hearts of his enemies. However, even a master like him can face unexpected challenges.

As Faust goes about completing his assigned tasks, he unknowingly steps into a carefully laid trap. But destiny has other plans for him, as he miraculously escapes the clutches of danger. Little does he know that the individuals who plotted against him might be just a fraction of the threats he'll soon face in the midst of a raging criminal clan war.

It becomes apparent that the ultimate pursuit is not just for the criminals, but for the notorious Goat Nostra itself. A high-stakes game ensues, where loyalty hangs by a thread and survival is a precarious act. Can Faust outwit the forces that conspire against him while navigating this treacherous landscape?

"This gripping tale serves as a temporary respite from the monotony of everyday life, offering an immersive experience into a world of heart-stopping suspense and thrilling crime. Within the pages of this electrifying novel, your heart will race as you become entangled in a web of bloody intrigue, where the clash between the unforgiving mafia and relentless justice knows no bounds."

Embark on a perilous journey alongside Faust, the enigmatic wanderer, as he relentlessly pursues his targets, unraveling a complex tapestry of truth and betrayal. In this deadly game where every move could cost a life, discover a world where illicit power thrives and the line between right and wrong becomes blurred.

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Prologue


His appearance is the last thing many people will see before they die.....



The dark figure reached the middle of the room and turned toward the bed, where a man in his thirties and a pretty girl dwelt in deep sleep.

The unknown man pointed a gun in their direction. He didn't want to take the girl away at all, and he shouldn't have: according to the latest data, the object was alone in the apartment.

But in fact, there was a stranger in the room. A stranger who could easily be a witness. The old thought of success stabbed into my head like an arrow, "No witnesses."


His finger pulled the trigger six times, and there was one less living thing in this world.

With a shriek, the girl instantly woke up, "Don't kill me, please. Don't kill me, I beg you… I want to live…"

She's so young and beautiful, she's got her whole life ahead of her. Why kill her?

She's not gonna tell us anything anyway.

"Nowitnesses!!!" – rumbled a terrible thunder in the killer's head.

"Noooooo!" – wailed the victim, noticing the bottomless abyss in the shooter's eyes.

The bullet flew into the forehead, tumbled in it for a couple of moments and, flying out of the back of the head, crashed into the wall along with pieces of skull and drops of blood …

Change of plans

11:14 p.m. July 21.


"Where are we going?" – Giuseppe asked me as the back door of the Skoda Fabia slammed shut.

"To the pay phone," I replied and thought. – One more incident like this and I'm going to be a total paranoid freak. No, seriously, I can't even walk into a regular bar anymore. Or maybe I'm just getting too old for this job…"

We drove down Wilsonova Street, turned left, stopped, and the chauffeur's upraised hand showed me a pay phone.

54 year old Garibaldi is our 4th level employee in Prague (under the supervision of Jean Carlo LaScoltz ("Ambassador" of the Family in the Czech Republic)). A long time ago he worked as a cab driver, but after accidentally saving the life of one of our higher-ups, he joined the organization, went where it was "quieter", and now he drives people like me around the city. From the point of view of work, he was perfect: he didn't know much, didn't want to know much, had no memory for faces and names… And what else does a good driver need but good driving with good knowledge of the city – nothing.





"Hello."

"This is Faust (my call signs in the underworld)." "You're in Prague?"


"Yes."

"When by the way did you pri…" "Weren't you warned I was here?" "No, why?"

Robert Emerson was talking to me, you could understand it not even by his poor pronunciation (he could hardly speak Italian), but by his "smart" head (no one really had to know that I was in the Czech Republic), it's not clear how he got to Koza Nostra in the first place, perhaps because of an old friendship, though I doubt it – hell knows. "Yeah, nothing," I smiled into the phone.

"So. The Ambassador is sick…" "That's a real problem…"

"Yes. And we have a meeting…" "With who?"

"Some Morten…"

"Morten? The butcher who (with my dog job I managed to keep my sense of humor)?" "I don't know… Maybe…"

"So, what does he want?" "Meet…"

"That's it?"

"I don't know…"

"Ah…" the cell phone rang, "Okay, bye. "But…"

I hung up the phone, stepped out of the booth, and moved toward the car. "Hello."

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