Killing The Rat (An Organized Crime Thriller) Read Online Free PDF Page A

had been a loyal soldier. Not the brightest bulb in the chandelier. But Tommy was loyal and mean. More than willing to dispense violence as he, Romano, saw fit.
    Romano didn’t like what he was thinking. Had the Feds gotten to Tommy? If so, had they sanctioned the robbery? Or had Tommy gotten into some kind of financial trouble? That wouldn’t be it. You couldn’t pay your debts off if you were dead.
    He had a pretty good idea what Tommy was up to, but needed to receive a phone call to be absolutely sure. That phone call would also tell him where he needed to send the solution he had in mind.
    The problem, as he saw it, was that if he wasn’t able to act quickly enough after he got the phone call, he could be in some serious, serious trouble.
    He had to lay the groundwork now.
    Then, once he got the call, he could implement the solution immediately. It would be a rush job, no two ways about it. Romano didn’t like rush jobs, too many things went wrong. Shit, things went wrong on the most well-planned jobs. But sometimes rush jobs were a necessary risk. And taking this risk was absolutely necessary.
    Romano picked up the cell phone.
    It was time to bring in Jack Cleveland.

6.
     
    Tommy Abrocci sipped from his cup of coffee in the back corner of the Java House in Ann Arbor. It was one of those ultra-trendy places, just a few blocks from the University of Michigan.
    The coffee was good stuff. The Colombians didn’t know shit about what it took to operate in America. But they could make some mean coffee. He sipped again, savored the rich, full-bodied flavor. As good as it was, in Tommy’s mind it didn’t come close to some strong Italian espresso. Now that was some powerful shit. The kind that could have you heart doing an up-tempo bass line in minutes flat. Tommy smeared a thick layer of butter on his croissant and stuffed half of it into his mouth. The thick, flaky crust melted in his mouth. Tommy momentarily closed his eyes as the flavor spread over his tongue, through his palate. Tommy felt good. No, check that. He felt better than good. He felt downright great. He had parked his sweet ass directly on top of the world, and he was planning on sitting there for a long, long time.
    He’d made the drive out of Detroit in good time. Although the small city of Ann Arbor was only forty-five minutes from Motown, it was a different world. It felt very far from the chokehold of Vincenzo Romano’s empire.
    Tommy took another sip of the coffee and let it warm his stomach. The caffeine was giving him a steady buzz of energy.
    The cash, like everything else he held truly valuable in this world, was between his legs. He was just beginning to relax. On the road, he’d been so tense he’d noticed that he was literally white-knuckling the steering wheel. Now, tucked safely in a small place in a small town, he felt like the old Tommy. He almost laughed out loud. No one would think to look for him in Ann Arbor. There weren’t any real wise guys here. A few small-timers, but it was a college town. Full of Wolverines and nerdy kids with their snotty noses buried in books.
    He turned his attention to the paper sitting on the table. He went to the sports section and skimmed it for news of his beloved Lions. Talk about your losers. Most of the other fans Tommy knew referred to the team as the Lie Downs. More like the Bend Overs, Tommy thought. Just drops their pants and grab their ankles for whatever team they came up against.
    Well, Tommy thought, my days of being a Lions fan are just about over. With his new life, maybe in Florida, he’d have three choices: the Dolphins, the Buccaneers or the Jaguars. Then again, there were quite a few retired wise guys in Florida, especially Miami. He might have to opt for South Carolina. Or North Carolina. The Carolina Panthers were a decent football team. And they had just as good a chance as getting to the Super Bowl as the Lions. Shit, anyone had as good a chance as the Lions. Better,