Sequel: We'll Be Okay ›
Race Against Time
Slow Down
I shot my leg out, colliding with something solid. I sat up quickly in bed and looked around. Boomer was asleep on his raised bed in the corner. I looked down and saw Don sound asleep. He was the only man I knew who could get kicked and not even budge. My work phone rang. I looked down and saw 'Mac Taylor' on the caller ID. I flipped open the lid of the phone.
"Detective Pacino", I said.
"We could use an extra set of hands over here. There was an accident and we're having difficulty with translating. I know today's your day off, this is purely optional", Mac replied.
"Where is it?" I asked. Boomer lifted his head and yawned in his sleep. Poor dog.
"It's in Greenwich Village, you'd be able to see the scene if you're coming in from the south side", Mac replied. I looked at the clock. Nine am.
"Yeah, I'll be there in an hour", I said. I rolled out of bed, nearly landing on the floor. Sure, that woke him up. I hung up the phone.
"Where's the fire, Rambo?" Don asked, blinking awake.
"No fire. I'm being called into work for a bit, they need an Italian translator", I replied. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a green button-down shirt and walked quickly into the bathroom. It was Saturday morning, so traffic was going to be killer. It took a solid five minutes to shower and wash my hair. I got out, wrapping a towel around myself and started drying my hair with my hair-dryer. I pulled it back into a ponytail and pulled on my jeans. By the time I'd finished buttoning my shirt, I had a total of thirty minutes to eat and get gone. I shoved my feet into my boots and grabbed an apple.
"Slow down, Lady Antebellum", Don joked, helping me stand up. I took a huge bite of my apple, thankful I had brushed my teeth in the shower to save time.
"I gotta be in Greenwich at ten. It's Saturday morning", I replied. He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Mac won't care if you're ten minutes late. Take a breather", he said. I grabbed my keys and a water bottle.
"I don't have time. You're welcome to hang around here if you want, TV remote's in the armoire. I should be back before too long, if Boomer needs to go out, just let him out onto the balcony", I replied, kissing his cheek.
"Yes, dear", he teased.
"And by the way, do you even know who Lady Antebellum is?" I asked. He shook his head.
"They're a country trio". He nodded knowingly before I kissed him and ran out the door. I practically ran out into the parking garage and drove my truck as fast as I could. Punctuality was always thing with me, I hated being late. I pulled up to the scene fifteen minutes late. I could've kicked myself.
"Hey, sorry I'm late", I said, walking up. Of course, everyone had to make jeers and pokes.
"What, did Flack not let you leave this morning?" Murphy fired at me.
"I guess you took the whole 'save a horse, ride a cowboy' thing literally, didn't you, Cowgirl?" O'Riley sneered. I ignored them and walked up to Mac.
"That man right there seems to be trying to say something, but Danny doesn't know what", he said, pointing to a very familiar Italian man. My face broke out with a huge grin.
"Uncle Tony?" I said. He looked up.
"Isabella? Mia nipote bello!" he exclaimed.
[Isabella? My beautiful niece!]
I ran over to him and hugged him tightly.
"Che cosa è successo qui? Voi sapete l'inglese, perché sei finta di non?" I chided.
[What happened around here? You know English, why are you pretending you don't?]
"Perché nessuno qui può parlare italiano corretto. E 'una lezione etnica, l'amore", he replied.
[Because no one here can speak proper Italian. It's an ethnic lesson, love]
"What happened?" I asked, raising my eyebrow and taking out my memo pad.
"I was walking down the street and I saw a woman pull out a gun and shoot her husband. The bullet went between his eyes!" he replied. I jotted it down.
"You made my boss drag my ass in here on my day off, Uncle Tony. You owe me lunch", I chided. He smiled and kissed the top of my head.
"I will take you to true Italian restaurant for dinner", he promised. Danny came up.
"You could speak English the whole time?" he said, glaring at my uncle.
"Tanglewood Boy, you'd better watch how you're speaking. Your Italian dishonored my eardrums", Uncle Tony replied, his hackles raising. I rested my hand on my uncle's shoulder, my other hand to keep Danny back.
"I ain't one of the Tanglewood Boys, gangster", Danny growled. I gave Danny a warning look.
"You New Yorkers have no clue how to treat an elder", Uncle Tony fired back.
"Yeah, I'm American, born and raised", Danny snapped.
"Then don't claim Italian blood, boy", Uncle Tony retorted.
"Danny, Uncle Tony, knock it off, both of you", I warned. Danny gave me an incredulous look.
"This jerk's your uncle?" he said. I nodded.
"He's part of the family, Danny", I replied, emphasizing 'family'. That meant he was Mafia.
"Tell Mac that. If he's involved, you know you'll be pulled out of this", Danny told me.
"I'm not stupid, Danny. I can tell by looking at the body that this wasn't a mob hit", I replied. It was long range, probably a good twenty feet. Mob hits were up-close and personal.
"Hai avuto un buon guardare il tiratore?" I asked Uncle Tony. May as well do what I came here to do. Translate.
[Did you get a good look at the shooter?]
He nodded.
"Donna bella bionda, circa la tua altezza, era incinta, e la pistola era un nove millimetro. Non ho potuto vedere il suo colore degli occhi, però. Mi dispiace io non sono molto d'aiuto", he replied.
[Pretty blonde woman, about your height, she was pregnant, and the gun was a nine millimeter. I couldn't see her eye color, though. Sorry I'm not much help] I jotted it down.
"Hai fatto bene. Grazie per il vostro tempo, Antonio Pacino", I said with a smile.
[You did just fine. Thank you for your time, Antonio Pacino]
"I'll see you at seven. Wear something nice", Uncle Tony replied. I rolled my eyes and kissed my uncle on the cheek. I handed my memo book to Mac.
"You knew him", Mac said. I nodded.
"Yeah, that's my uncle. He got a good look and it's all in there", I replied.
"This wasn't a mob hit?" Mac asked. I shook my head.
"If it is, they're cowards. The woman was blonde and pregnant, so unless it's Russian, it wasn't Mafia", I replied. Russians were starting to move in on the Italians. I could feel a territory war coming on. A tall Russian man spat something at me in French.
"Surveillez vos arrières, Pacino. Vous pouvez avoir un badge, mais vous ne pouvez pas échapper à Volkov", he had said. It chilled me to the bone.
[Watch your back, Pacino. You may have a badge, but you can't escape Volkov]
I turned to him and gave him an icy look.
"Vous voulez parier?" I retorted.
[Wanna bet?]
Uncle Tony and the Russian man locked eyes. An unspoken threat passed between the two of them. I backed away slowly.
"Hey, Mac, I'm gonna head out. There's uh, nothing more here for me to do", I said quickly. He looked up and saw the men glaring at each other.
"Russians versus Italians", he commented.
"Mac, there's going to be a war, I can feel it", I replied, voicing my fear for the first time.
"Detective Pacino", I said.
"We could use an extra set of hands over here. There was an accident and we're having difficulty with translating. I know today's your day off, this is purely optional", Mac replied.
"Where is it?" I asked. Boomer lifted his head and yawned in his sleep. Poor dog.
"It's in Greenwich Village, you'd be able to see the scene if you're coming in from the south side", Mac replied. I looked at the clock. Nine am.
"Yeah, I'll be there in an hour", I said. I rolled out of bed, nearly landing on the floor. Sure, that woke him up. I hung up the phone.
"Where's the fire, Rambo?" Don asked, blinking awake.
"No fire. I'm being called into work for a bit, they need an Italian translator", I replied. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a green button-down shirt and walked quickly into the bathroom. It was Saturday morning, so traffic was going to be killer. It took a solid five minutes to shower and wash my hair. I got out, wrapping a towel around myself and started drying my hair with my hair-dryer. I pulled it back into a ponytail and pulled on my jeans. By the time I'd finished buttoning my shirt, I had a total of thirty minutes to eat and get gone. I shoved my feet into my boots and grabbed an apple.
"Slow down, Lady Antebellum", Don joked, helping me stand up. I took a huge bite of my apple, thankful I had brushed my teeth in the shower to save time.
"I gotta be in Greenwich at ten. It's Saturday morning", I replied. He chuckled, shaking his head.
"Mac won't care if you're ten minutes late. Take a breather", he said. I grabbed my keys and a water bottle.
"I don't have time. You're welcome to hang around here if you want, TV remote's in the armoire. I should be back before too long, if Boomer needs to go out, just let him out onto the balcony", I replied, kissing his cheek.
"Yes, dear", he teased.
"And by the way, do you even know who Lady Antebellum is?" I asked. He shook his head.
"They're a country trio". He nodded knowingly before I kissed him and ran out the door. I practically ran out into the parking garage and drove my truck as fast as I could. Punctuality was always thing with me, I hated being late. I pulled up to the scene fifteen minutes late. I could've kicked myself.
"Hey, sorry I'm late", I said, walking up. Of course, everyone had to make jeers and pokes.
"What, did Flack not let you leave this morning?" Murphy fired at me.
"I guess you took the whole 'save a horse, ride a cowboy' thing literally, didn't you, Cowgirl?" O'Riley sneered. I ignored them and walked up to Mac.
"That man right there seems to be trying to say something, but Danny doesn't know what", he said, pointing to a very familiar Italian man. My face broke out with a huge grin.
"Uncle Tony?" I said. He looked up.
"Isabella? Mia nipote bello!" he exclaimed.
[Isabella? My beautiful niece!]
I ran over to him and hugged him tightly.
"Che cosa è successo qui? Voi sapete l'inglese, perché sei finta di non?" I chided.
[What happened around here? You know English, why are you pretending you don't?]
"Perché nessuno qui può parlare italiano corretto. E 'una lezione etnica, l'amore", he replied.
[Because no one here can speak proper Italian. It's an ethnic lesson, love]
"What happened?" I asked, raising my eyebrow and taking out my memo pad.
"I was walking down the street and I saw a woman pull out a gun and shoot her husband. The bullet went between his eyes!" he replied. I jotted it down.
"You made my boss drag my ass in here on my day off, Uncle Tony. You owe me lunch", I chided. He smiled and kissed the top of my head.
"I will take you to true Italian restaurant for dinner", he promised. Danny came up.
"You could speak English the whole time?" he said, glaring at my uncle.
"Tanglewood Boy, you'd better watch how you're speaking. Your Italian dishonored my eardrums", Uncle Tony replied, his hackles raising. I rested my hand on my uncle's shoulder, my other hand to keep Danny back.
"I ain't one of the Tanglewood Boys, gangster", Danny growled. I gave Danny a warning look.
"You New Yorkers have no clue how to treat an elder", Uncle Tony fired back.
"Yeah, I'm American, born and raised", Danny snapped.
"Then don't claim Italian blood, boy", Uncle Tony retorted.
"Danny, Uncle Tony, knock it off, both of you", I warned. Danny gave me an incredulous look.
"This jerk's your uncle?" he said. I nodded.
"He's part of the family, Danny", I replied, emphasizing 'family'. That meant he was Mafia.
"Tell Mac that. If he's involved, you know you'll be pulled out of this", Danny told me.
"I'm not stupid, Danny. I can tell by looking at the body that this wasn't a mob hit", I replied. It was long range, probably a good twenty feet. Mob hits were up-close and personal.
"Hai avuto un buon guardare il tiratore?" I asked Uncle Tony. May as well do what I came here to do. Translate.
[Did you get a good look at the shooter?]
He nodded.
"Donna bella bionda, circa la tua altezza, era incinta, e la pistola era un nove millimetro. Non ho potuto vedere il suo colore degli occhi, però. Mi dispiace io non sono molto d'aiuto", he replied.
[Pretty blonde woman, about your height, she was pregnant, and the gun was a nine millimeter. I couldn't see her eye color, though. Sorry I'm not much help] I jotted it down.
"Hai fatto bene. Grazie per il vostro tempo, Antonio Pacino", I said with a smile.
[You did just fine. Thank you for your time, Antonio Pacino]
"I'll see you at seven. Wear something nice", Uncle Tony replied. I rolled my eyes and kissed my uncle on the cheek. I handed my memo book to Mac.
"You knew him", Mac said. I nodded.
"Yeah, that's my uncle. He got a good look and it's all in there", I replied.
"This wasn't a mob hit?" Mac asked. I shook my head.
"If it is, they're cowards. The woman was blonde and pregnant, so unless it's Russian, it wasn't Mafia", I replied. Russians were starting to move in on the Italians. I could feel a territory war coming on. A tall Russian man spat something at me in French.
"Surveillez vos arrières, Pacino. Vous pouvez avoir un badge, mais vous ne pouvez pas échapper à Volkov", he had said. It chilled me to the bone.
[Watch your back, Pacino. You may have a badge, but you can't escape Volkov]
I turned to him and gave him an icy look.
"Vous voulez parier?" I retorted.
[Wanna bet?]
Uncle Tony and the Russian man locked eyes. An unspoken threat passed between the two of them. I backed away slowly.
"Hey, Mac, I'm gonna head out. There's uh, nothing more here for me to do", I said quickly. He looked up and saw the men glaring at each other.
"Russians versus Italians", he commented.
"Mac, there's going to be a war, I can feel it", I replied, voicing my fear for the first time.