Don Bowed To Me Chapter 29
The color drained from Vincenzo’s face, inch by inch.
“That photo…”
His voice dropped.
“Where did you get it?”
I put the phone away.
“Your Boca Raton house had its network infrastructure re-laid in 2019.”
“The contractor was a small firm out of Palm Beach.”
“That firm was later acquired by a major provider.”
“And I was once involved in auditing the core security architecture of that provider.”
Vincenzo stared at me.
I didn’t tell him the whole truth.
I only needed him to know that I could see.
“You think an encrypted network means no traces. In reality, it’s just one more door than what ordinary people face.”
“And I happen to know exactly where that door is.”
Don Salvatore finally raised his head.
“What did you intercept?”
I answered.
“Just a set of connection logs.”
“Enough to prove that three days ago, through your private network in Boca Raton, you contacted someone in Boston via an encrypted account.”
Don Salvatore’s eyes changed.
“Who?”
I said the name.
“Ezio Rizzo.”
The air in the main hall plummeted.
Enzo Bellandi finally spoke.
“The Rizzo family.”
His voice was low.
“The Boston Rizzos.”
“In 1987, they clashed with the Marchetti family over a union control line.”
“Seventeen people died in that conflict.”
“Six of them were Marchetti made men.”
“Both sides signed a non-aggression pact in 1994.”
“There’s been no formal contact since.”
“The agreement explicitly states that any unauthorized contact with the other side’s core members may be treated as a breach.”
Don Salvatore’s gaze fell on Vincenzo.
“You contacted Ezio Rizzo?”
Vincenzo was silent for a long time.
Finally, his voice came out low:
“I wanted him to pressure you into reconsidering the succession arrangements.”
“I wanted the Marchetti family back in the hands of those who truly carry Marchetti blood.”
Sebastian looked at him coldly.
“So you brought the Rizzos in.”
“I never told them to attack Marchetti people, I swear.”
Vincenzo said quickly.
Don Salvatore looked at him.
“Vincenzo, after all these years dealing with Ezio, you still haven’t learned one thing?”
“You handed a knife to a madman.”
“You can’t expect him to only cut where you point.”
Just then, Enzo Bellandi’s phone rang.
He stepped out of the hall.
Less than a minute later.
He strode back in.
His face had changed.
“Don, something’s happened on the Newport south line.”
Don Salvatore looked up.
“Go ahead.”
“A Marchetti Defense transport vehicle left the Providence warehouse in the early hours.”
“At 3:40 a.m., it was ambushed under the Route 301 overpass.”
“The driver, Tommy Gallo. Security escort, Nick Ferretti. Both dead.”
The air froze.
“The prototype equipment on board—”
Enzo paused for a second.
“Has been taken.”
He placed the crime scene photos on the table.
In the photo.
A gold brooch lay beside a bloodstain.
An eagle’s talon clutching a pomegranate.
Sebastian recognized it immediately.
“The Rizzo family crest.”
Vincenzo took a step back.
“No.”
His face went white in an instant.
“I didn’t tell them to hit the transport.”
“I didn’t—”
Don Salvatore closed his eyes.
A few seconds later, he opened them again.
“Dr. Vitale.”
“What was that device?”
I looked at the photo.
“A prototype neural signal decoding system under development by Marchetti Defense.”
“It’s not a weapon.”
“But its communication protocols and encryption architecture, if reverse-engineered—”
I paused for a second.
“The Rizzos could use it to build an attack model targeting the Marchetti family’s internal communications network.”
Don Salvatore was silent.
“How long?”
“Approximately two weeks.”
“If the device is functioning normally.”
Don Salvatore’s fingers resumed their tapping on the armrest.
“You said ‘if’?”
I glanced at my watch.
“Because that device contains a hardware-level kill switch.”
Sebastian looked at me.
I said calmly:
“In two hours and seventeen minutes.”
“It will permanently lock down. They won’t be able to extract the core encryption keys or replicate the core architecture.”
“What they stole—”
I looked up.
“Is just a very expensive brick.”
The hall was silent for ten seconds.
Then.
Don Salvatore laughed.
It was the first time I’d ever seen him laugh like that.
He turned his head.
“Enzo.”
“Yes, Don.”
“Notify all capos.”
“Tomorrow morning, ten o’clock.”
“A formal family meeting.”
He looked at me.
“Everyone must be present.”
“Location?”
Don Salvatore spoke slowly.
“The Newport manor.”