A Covenant Of Ashes

Chapter 1

She ran. As the winds dictated, as the smell of dust and fresh rain water directed, as the sound of stray bullets slightly missing the back of her head directed, she ran. Along the gloomy streets of Naples, down the corner into the alley way, her feet moved gracefully on the wet stone grounds while the cold winds spread the ends of her frock coat wide behind her. She could hardly believe she made it work. 

The sound of the bullet stopped following her and she slowed down to breathe, and finally came to a stop. She smiled and looked up to the dark night sky as she felt drops of rain run down her cheeks. It was time to proceed to the next step of her plan, for the capo would not let her escape - the capo never lets you escape. She walked down the street while turning her head in every direction to have a hint of where she might be, and then she saw a sign that said La Quinta Strada – the fifth avenue. Only a few blocks away from her tiny base of operations she would wait for her designated driver to pick her up – all according to plan – but she felt it followed through a little too smoothly. 

For several days she had thought of it, for several days she polished her plan. The most dangerous heist of her days of antique theft was a pinch away from success. She pulled out the item from within her satchel and ran her thumb against its surface, the mask of Wisen they called it. It had the form of any other venetian carnival mask, except for the glow it gave off in the dark – venetian masks were not known to glow in the dark – which made her curious as to why it was valued so greatly by the appraisers. Nevertheless, she was going to get her reward, and stay far away from theft for as long as the money would take her, but first she had to escape the territory of la casa nostra else the capo was bound to find her. As she paced through the city, the mafia’s slogan spoke continuously in her head, saying cammini con I morti quando provichi la casa nostra – you walk with the dead when you provoke our house. 

The mafia led by the infamous capo, popularly known by his alias Tim Allen was the biggest crime organization in the region of Sicily, it was also the engine that ran the city of Naples. One could say that they were more like a government organization when it came to Naples, it was well known throughout the city that the majority of government officials ranging from the mayor to the tax collectors were affiliated with the mafia. They collected taxes, created and enforced laws during the day in exchange  for security and a somewhat good governance. At night they did what most crime organisations would do, break fingers, smash heads, and everything that made them the monsters they were. But there was something peculiar to the modus operandi of the mafia that made them stand out well enough to dominate the entire Sicily, something that could be tied to the infamous capo, which was their absolutely violent way of dealing with those who dared to provoke them. They did more than just pull finger nails, no, they made you bite the curb and shatter your teeth as well as your jaw, when they know you provoked the house,  you will walk with the dead. 

Finally, she arrived at the base, which was no more than a single room apartment where she had all the equipment which she needed in preparation for the heist. She pulled a mobile device from her pocket and dialed in a number and paced across the room while she waited for a reply. 

 “Johnny, Johnny, I’ve got the package.” 

“Good work, Beth,” he replied. “The same location?”

“Yes, John. The location. How long?”

“Fifteen minutes.” 

“Fifteen. Thank you.”

Fifteen minutes, she heaved a sigh and leaned beside the window. It was enough time before they discovered the location, provided she wasn’t followed.  She reached for a pack of cigars on top of her desk, beside a matchbox and an ashtray. She lit a cigar and drew in a breath of smoke, hoping to ease her anxiety. She wasn’t used to being anxious while on the job, but her legs  moved back and forth as if having minds of their own. Her insides churned, and her fingers jittered while she steadied the cigar close to her lips. Everything was going accordingly and yet she couldn’t silence that inner voice that kept telling her that somehow, somewhere, something wasn’t right.