I threw a few pairs of jeans, a couple T-shirts, my laptop, my gun, ammo, the box from my mom, and all the cash in my safe — about forty thousand dollars — into a large camping backpack. I put on my jeans, boots, and a leather jacket, tugged a thick cotton stocking cap over my hair and peeked out my door. No sign of the goons. I hit the button for the elevator and then sprinted for the stairs. I left through the backdoor of the building, cutting through a nearby residential street down to Columbus Avenue and hailed a cab in front of a strip club. Within thirty minutes, I was in front of Kato’s house.
Even though it was four in the morning, when he opened the door, Kato looked like he’d been waiting for me to arrive.
“I need help. I need a place to hide.”
He didn’t even blink.
“Come in. The coffee’s hot.”
It was that sixth sense he had. He didn’t even comment on my appearance or the huge backpack I was lugging.
“My godfather wants me dead.” I didn’t elaborate and Kato didn’t push. Every time my mind wandered in that direction, I thought of something else. A constant stomach pain since I’d left my place was the only indication that the revelation was affecting me.
Kato poured me a cup of coffee and handed me the newspaper while he showered. By the time he was done, the kids were up and acting bashful to find Gia-Ko in their kitchen.
“I have a place for you to hide,” Kato said, handing me a weird green smoothie that smelled—and tasted, frankly—like dirt. “I just need to make a few calls. Give me an hour or two.”
I hung out with Susie and the boys until Kato called from work and left a cryptic address. He told me the place wouldn’t be ready until the next day. This worried me. The longer I stayed with Kato and his family, the more danger they might be in. My godfather was a very powerful man and had eyes everywhere.
Using their phone, I made a few calls, including to my friend, Darling, who could procure anything for anybody anytime. By afternoon, I’d snuck into the North Beach strip club, keeping a wary eye out for anyone who might be working for my godfather. Every time I thought about Vito, I pushed down the part of me that wanted to feel sorry for myself. There would be time for that later. I needed to be cold and clinical if I was going to outsmart my godfather.
My godfather was powerful, but he had a weakness I intended to exploit — he underestimated me. For instance, he probably thought I was still holed up in my luxury apartment, shaking from fear from his murder attempt. I had to use that to my advantage.
After I went over the plans with stripper girl Candy for the third time, I swung by a photo place and had some pictures taken. I paid extra for them to rush the order and then sent them by courier to my friend Darling’s shop. Back at Kato’s I called and finally reached Darling. She’d gotten the photos. Her connections would have fake ID’s and passports for me by the next afternoon.
My plan was almost in place.
One more night.
The next morning I was up early. I packed my bag and said my goodbyes to Kato and his family, sticking the address he had given me in my pocket before I hailed a cab to take me to Russian Hill. I had one last stop before I headed to my new home.