The polished black shoes clacked on the waxed tile of the lobby. The simple dark suit moved with its owner as he crossed the floor to the elevators. A few of the nurses and administrators took notice of the young man walking the hallways of St. Thomas Hospital, turning to each other to whisper when he was out of earshot. But it wasn’t his stunning, handsome looks or his impeccably fit physique that drew their attention. It was the fact that a priest possessed all these qualities.
It was not uncommon for young priests just out of seminary to make rounds at the hospital. Many of them were quite eager to prove themselves to their congregations. The man smiled politely at everyone he passed, yet he did not stop to talk to anyone. He calmly waited for the elevator, bible clasped in both hands before him. After the car emptied, he held the doors as several people entered ahead of him. He then walked in and assumed his passive stance facing the closing doors.
The priest exited on the 7th floor. He turned right and purposefully made his way down the long hallway. Near the end of the hall, he stopped and greeted two large men sitting outside room 7114. The men stood to greet him, each of them shaking his hand. A brief conversation ensued with the father performing the sign of the cross for each of them and offering a brief benediction. Both men then sat down as the man entered the room. The room was a large hospital suite, the kind reserved for dignitaries and other high profile or high net worth people. The priest stood in the large waiting area of the suite. Meant for immediate family and friends, the suite could accommodate several for extended periods of time. Decorated exceedingly well for a hospital room, it could easily pass for a hotel room.
Phil Marella really didn’t have any immediate family or friends, but his people knew that he would only settle for the best even if his state of being made him unable to utilize or appreciate it.
The priest walked through the room looking at the many extravagant flower arrangements. He recognized several names on the cards. They were mostly from business people and other “family” members. The names even included a few prominent political figures and the like. Well, evidently, you are an important man, Phil. Imagine how many flowers there will be at your funeral.
The priest walked to the restroom and set his bible on the counter next to the sink. Pulling back the cover, he revealed the hollowed out pages of the book. Removing the black case hidden inside the bible, he closed the cover and put the case on the counter as well. He opened the case and removed one syringe and a needle. Looking into the mirror at himself, his eyes were lifeless like those of a shark. The slightest hint of perspiration formed across his brow as he screwed the needles into each syringe. He then capped the syringes and placed them both in the pocket of his jacket. Slowly, he closed the case, re-opened the book and placed the case inside. He looked at himself in the mirror one more time. The fake beard and moustache beginning to itch as he started to sweat, but he resisted the urge to scratch. He finally turned toward the door.
“Hello, Matty.”
Matty froze in his tracks and looked up to see Vincent standing in the doorway. Instinctively, he reached to his beltline behind his back where a silenced pistol was conveniently hiding.
Vincent raised his hands and stepped back. “That’s not necessary. I’m not carrying.”
Matty eased up slightly, but did not remove his hand from behind his back. “Don’t get in my way, Vincent. You’re not going to stop me.” His voice steeled with resolve and even a bit of passion. “This is business. I think you can appreciate that.”
Vincent retreated, hands still up, into the waiting area. “I’m not going to get in your way, but I want you to think about what you’re doing.” Vincent was almost emotional in his plea, “I want you to think about where this will take you.” He emphasized with his hands as he spoke, “Just let me say my peace.”
Matty relaxed a little more. His hand never moved, but he squinted in contemplation at Vincent. “Keep your hands where I can see them. If you try anything, I won’t hesitate. If I have to kill you, those guys out in the hall, and anyone else who comes into this room, I will. I have a job to finish.
Vincent nodded his understanding. Matty then slid the weapon from his pants and transferred it to his hip pocket. “Make it quick.”
Vincent looked into the next room where Phil Marella lay unconscious in his hospital bed. He then turned back to Matty. “Matty I know you want to be a big shot in the business. I know you want to prove that you belong at the head table. I understand all that, believe me. But also believe me when I say that what you are about to do will affect you for the rest of your life. I don’t know who you are colluding with in this plan, but if you kill Phil today, it is you who will ultimately pay the price.”
Matty looked as though he was going to raise his voice, but craned his neck and caught himself before he spoke, “There is no price to pay. No one will know.” He moved his hand to the gun in his pocket. “Will they, Vincent?”
Vincent sighed, “I won’t be saying a word, but not because you’re threatening me. It’s because I’m out. I’m done. I don’t want this life anymore.” Matty’s eyes widened as Vincent spoke. “Matty, I’ve done so many things that I regret all in the name of loyalty to a family that doesn’t really give a shit about me. I’ve threatened, beaten and killed people that trusted me, hurt people close to me all because I thought I could make a name for myself.”
Vincent became slightly exasperated as he continued, “And maybe I could make a name for myself. Maybe I could one day run this city the way Phil and Carmine used to, but at what price?” His eyes pleaded with Matty. “A few days ago, I saw Carmen, the only girl I have ever loved, and she could barely look me in the eye. I’ve lied to her so many times about what I do that I thought I had begun to lose her. I thought, ‘I’ve lost the last good thing in my life, and if that’s the price of power, I don’t want it.’ But then, bless her, I got to see her yesterday and I found out there’s nothing she’s not willing to do for me.” He turned out his hands to Matty to beg him, “And that scared me! That I could possibly lose someone like that! ... I can’t do it anymore.” Vincent wiped at his eye.
“We’ve known each other for a long time, Matty. I’ve always considered you a friend. But here we are at a crossroads; you ready to pull a gun on me and me not about to do anything about it. If it was any other day, one of us wouldn’t leave this room alive. And that’s not something I’m willing to consider anymore. Think about what you’re doing and where this path will lead you.”
A few moments of silence passed between them with Vincent’s words still hanging heavy in the air. Vincent stepped toward Matty, raised him arm and patted him on the shoulder. Matty shrugged his hand off and backed away. “I know what I’m doing, Vincent.”
Vincent looked defeated. “Think about it, please.” He slowly backed toward the door. Matty eyes followed him.
“What are you going to do?” Matty asked.
“I’m going to spend every waking second trying to atone for what I’ve done and beg Carmen to forgive me for all the things I’ve done. And it might not work. I know that. But, I have to try.” He reached for the door’s handle and started to turn it.
“You think you can just walk away?”
Vincent didn’t turn around, but paused and cocked his head slightly. Talking into his shoulder he said, “I hope so,” then walked out of the room.
The door latched shut. Matty suddenly realized how alone he felt. He pulled the gun from his pocket and replaced it back into his beltline behind him. He reflected back to the phone conversation he’d had earlier with Isabel. He had explained to her that Phil had lived through the explosion and that even though he was on life support, he was expected to survive. Her silence to the news was what he recalled now.
She asked him, “Have you heard anything about Frank?”
He told her that he hadn’t. There were some reports that the authorities were still sorting through some of the bodies and it was believed that some of the victims had been blown into the water. Again, silence followed his report.
Isabel finally told him that she couldn’t talk further and hung up the phone. Isabel must have been so disappointed in him. Not only had he inadvertently killed one of their best men, he had failed in the entire purpose of the mission: to kill their biggest threat.
He wasn’t going to fail again. If Vincent needs a life to be with Carmen, fine. He can do what he wants. But I can’t lose the woman I love, either.
Matty walked to the next room where Phil lay motionless. He pulled the first syringe from his pocket and removed the plastic cap. Locating the IVs injection port, he pumped the first syringe into the tube. He gathered the second syringe and repeated the process. The chemicals would take about 45 minutes before they would react together and cause a massive heart failure.
“This is too good for you, you bastard.”
Matty placed the empty syringes back into his pockets. He exited the room and shared another brief conversation with the bodyguards before leaving them. “God bless you,” he said as he walked away.