The Protector Chronicles - Redemption - Cover

The Protector Chronicles - Redemption

Copyright© 2013 by Misguided Child

Chapter 1: The Hit

Jonas Gianni guided the tip of the knife blade to the slight indentation on the back of the man's neck. The indention indicated the joining of the third and fourth vertebra. He knew the location well from dozens of targets that he had killed in the same way over the last 19 years. Time always seemed to stretch for Jonas when he was ready to make a kill, or anytime he was in deadly situations. He was aware of every facet of his surroundings when time slowed. Jonas could almost count the hairs that stood up between the fingers of one gloved hand as it gripped the man's hair at the back of his head. He was aware of the feel of the leather of the form fitting gloves he always wore for a kill. Jonas felt the lower part of the man's spine twist and turn beneath his knee as his target franticly struggled to escape his fate. Fortunately Jonas's target had selected one of the higher quality hotels in the Phoenix area. The thick, pile carpet muffled the sound of his drumming feet and his screams as Jonas pressed the man's face into the light blue nap.

The razor sharp tip of the knife broke the skin. Jonas knew that he drove the knife into the man with a sharp thrust but the time stretching made the blade seem to slide into the man's body like in a slow motion film. Jonas felt the slight catch as the spinal cord separated when the knife slipped between the vertebrae. The struggling man ceased all motion much like a puppet with its strings cut. Jonas had read books on this form of death and by all reports the man had died before the sting of his skin being punctured registered with his brain. Jonas smiled in satisfaction as he withdrew the knife. There was only a small spot of blood. His target's heart hadn't even had time to pump blood into the wound.

Jonas stood with lithe grace and looked down at the results of his handiwork. He didn't know how his target had offended the Families. Jonas knew that it had to be significant to earn a death warrant. Jonas's orders had been to inform the man that his death was courtesy of the Dieland Family out of Kansas City but the Los Angeles Family was responsible for the death warrant. Apparently whatever the man did wasn't bad enough to earn him a lot of pain prior to his death. Jonas's orders had been specific. Kill him quickly and as painlessly as possible and with a minimum amount of blood after informing him of the source of his death. It wasn't the most unusual execution order Jonas had received and was a welcome change to some of the violent deaths he had needed to carry out over the last couple of years.

The dead man was Hispanic so he was probably part of one of the Cartels that was encroaching on the Families territories throughout the United States. There had been a lot of infringement on territories lately which was a major factor in most of the violence over the last couple of years. These Cartels didn't respect territory. A lot of blood had been spilled over the last century to establish these territories and now the Mafia had the country pretty well divided up. They even had a process to settle grievances between Families. Public violence was bad for business so they avoided it when possible.

Jonas turned the dead man's head sideways to look at a tattoo on the side of the his neck. It was an unusual ornate cross that reminded Jonas of the crosses the conquistadors carried when they came to the new world. Jonas used the tip of his toe to lift the guy's shoulder and roll him over. His target had been better dressed than most of the Cartel soldiers he had seen. The suit wasn't top of the line by US standards but was a respectable quality wool blend.

Jonas shrugged his shoulders and turned to the full length mirror that is always present in hotel rooms. He needed to make sure he was presentable to go out in public. He straightened his tie and coat and just looked at himself. He was 6'1" and weighed about 195 pounds. He looked a lot smaller, and lighter, than he was because his build was very compact. His stature had caused more than one adversary to underestimate him. Jonas's black hair was starting to recede slightly which was nearly the only concession to his 38 years in this life. His unlined light olive complexion, thin face and wide spaced eyes were bequeathed from some French ancestor that had settled in the Louisiana swamps about two hundred years ago. The jet black hair could have come from that same ancestor or possibly from one of the Native Americans that his ancestor found. The hard winter gray of Jonas's eyes was the other concession to his age. His eyes looked very old. Jonas's mom said he had his dad's eyes.

Jonas didn't remember his dad. All he knew about him was that he was hiding out in the Louisiana back country in the 70's. That was when his dad met his mom. They got married and the way his uncles told it, the wedding was one hell of a shindig. Men had come for his dad before Jonas was born and his dad was killed. Jonas's mom made her way to relatives living in Kansas City after Jonas was born. He wished he had known his dad but he really missed his mom. Jonas could always talk to his mom when he was troubled and since she died there seemed to be an empty place in his heart. Jonas made a final adjustment to his coat and shrugged off thoughts of his mom and dad. It was time to leave. He had a plane to catch and if he hurried maybe he could get an earlier flight. He might even make it home to Kansas City in time for supper with his family. He noticed his eyes soften at the thought of his wife and daughter. His wife, Sheila and thirteen year old daughter, Elizabeth, or Liz as she liked to be called now, were his whole world. He smiled as he locked the door to the room as he left. He would definitely try to get home in time for supper.

Jonas Gianni started working for the Dieland Family running messages, money and packages when he was 14. He became a soldier at 17 when he made his first kill for the Family. He officially became an enforcer when he was 19 years old by accomplishing a particularly difficult execution. The requirement was to kill a member of a South American drug cartel for turf encroachment and killing a member of the Dieland Family. The target needed to be killed in his secure quarters with guards in and around the entire complex. It needed to be a very bloody death with no one being aware he was being killed until his guards tried to wake him the next morning. The Family wanted to create an atmosphere of mystery and invulnerability. Jason certainly accomplished their goals. That particular Cartel became very accommodating after that and was even instrumental in persuading other Cartels to work with the Dieland family in joint ventures.

Jonas didn't know how many people he had killed over the years. He never bothered to keep track primarily because it didn't seem right to treat another's life like a yard stick. Still, there were times that it bothered him that he didn't know how many had died at his hands. Usually those times occurred when he was sitting in church with his wife and daughter. Normally he was able to push the feelings back by asking himself if the chicken farmer knew how many chickens he had killed. He didn't know the number but he knew that it was a lot. There had been the gang wars in the late 90's the police had called wholesale slaughter. The gangs weren't connected like Jonas's Family was. Jonas wasn't a cruel man and he approached his job like a craftsman. His job was to hurt and kill people but Jonas was never harsher than he absolutely had to be. There had even been cases that he had suggested alternatives to beatings or murder that had been accepted. His Family understood that they were in a business and appreciated Jonas's business sense. Jonas avoided the seamier side of the mob activities whenever possible. When he couldn't avoid what he considered the dirty side of the business he tried to defend the victims. Jonas had a reputation within his Family of seeing more in a situation than just the surface appearance. No one would accuse him of being soft but everyone understood that he had his own code of honor that he would not bend and they respected him for it.

The source of this story is Finestories

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