Chapter 1

Proof Reading by Sagacious

"You moron! You left him alone! If anything happens to him, you'll wish for death. My God!"

Mike had six cars of guys out combing the small area for his son, Paul. In one way he was proud of the boy wanting to 'be a man', but the paternal instinct in him, let alone the tirade the boy's mother raised when she found out made him wonder if that was best. No, he did not want to face her if, God forbid, something happened to her 'Baby'.

Paul had been 'suckered in'. Mike's soon to be former driver/bodyguard told Mike of the earlier altercation and the challenge for Paul to meet his nemesis after school. What a dope, Mike thought, then remembered all those same reactions he'd had when he was sixteen.

Mike and the boys kept driving and looking.

SSgt (Staff Sergeant) James T. Baker was one of the few, one of the proud, and one of the forgotten. When he came home, everything was ... different. It was no longer what he'd thought it would be. He no longer had a job. The company he had worked for was gone. His girlfriend was history, and most of his friends were dead or gone. He no longer even had a home. Life had played several tricks on him. He was not alone. The life of a soldier, especially one who had opted to do what he did, was not a commodity that was greatly in demand in the civilized world.

"Find him! Ask everyone, offer ten grand to anyone who brings him to me, no, make it fifty grand; just have them find him!" Mike Manza was a man used to being obeyed. He had 'spoiled' Paul, maybe. Maybe he should have 'toughened' him up right from the start, but his Mother wanted him kept out of the 'business'. Paul idolized his father and wanted to be just like him. Paul's older sister Gina, however, was that 'tough' protégé Papa always wanted. She had already tried to become involved in the 'business, ' much to her mom's dismay and her fathers admiration.

For an eighteen year-old girl, having a Mafia Don for a father presented both good and bad aspects. If she wanted, which she did not, anything and everything was hers. She had only to look at her mother, to see what that had done and she wanted no part of that existence. The other thing, even more a negative, was that no one dared 'treat her' as a young girl. She was destined; it seemed, to become a perpetual virgin if her father had his way. The two boys that had shown any interest in her at school were soon avoiding her like the plague. The bodyguards had been certain to make them understand a few things, it seemed. Although she did like the 'protection', she sometimes wished she was more 'normal. Whenever the 'business' came up, all she could think about was being a part of it with her Father, and of getting ready to work in it one day. Mike was thinking of that too.

Paul Manza was not afraid exactly, but when he went to 'settle' a score he was so mad that common sense went out the window. Now he was starting to feel sorry he was alone. As he turned the corner in the alley and saw the group of men there, he knew he was in trouble, big trouble!

Paul never considered himself anyone special. That he was being set up for kidnap and ransom was never even a consideration. To him, 'the business' was a thing unknown, and never spoken of. His mother had planned his future in other directions. That these eight men thought he was of value, was very much a surprise to him. They drew closer, surrounding him, and backing him against a wall.

'Damn, ' he thought.

SSgt. James T. Baker, Jim, was looking for a warm place to sleep that night when he spotted the large group of men around the young man. Something triggered in him, something that was as much of his nature as eating and sleeping. He never considered the odds as being bad. He had no doubts as to his abilities, and gave no thought to himself as he readied for action. He just saw a 'teammate' in need, in danger. He acted the way he had done for so many years, 'over there.'

About the same time, the eyes of Mike Manza spotted Jim heading into the alley, and had his driver follow. He wanted 'feet on the street' to locate his boy, and the man looked like he could use a few bucks. When he pulled in the alley he could only stare, frozen, at the scene in front of him.

It was like watching a ballet. Only this was 'The Dance of Death'. Mike had somewhere heard of something like this. It was an old Brazilian form, and quite rarely seen now...

For Jim, there was no script, no thought of mercy given nor any quarter asked. These armed men had declared war and were fair game, now. With no hesitation Jim moved and the two men closest to the young man were down. Dead; their necks broken with one twist. Two others felt kicks to their heads and went to the ground. One shot at Jim, the other at Paul. Both shots failed to kill, but Paul slumped down, now. Jim was flying through the air, seemingly un-aware of his wound. A slash to first one man, then one to the other collapsed the windpipes of both. In eight seconds he had eliminated six of the men. He turned to face the other two stunned attackers. His hands reached out, smashed into blank faces forcing the bone and sinew from their noses to slide into their brains, killing them. In nine seconds, eight men lay dead on the alley's pavement.

Jim went to Paul and helped him up, attempting to take him away from the scene. It was then that he saw the car with more men getting out. He placed himself in front of Paul, and took a deep breath before attacking these new targets.

"Wait, it's OK! It's Pop!" the young man shouted.

Father and son ran to each other. Mike Manza was never more happy about anything as he was to once again see his son, relatively unharmed. He also now did something that he was not accustomed to doing.

He extended his hand to the man to shake it and said, "Thank you. Thank you for saving my son."

Father and son held each other. Jim looked then started to slip away.

"Hey, where do you think your going, Buddy? You're bleeding all over. Vic, Tony, get him into the car, stop the bleeding and let's get out of here."

Jim was starting to feel the shot now, the adrenalin of the fight was wearing off and he just wanted to have this dream end.

Now, Mike was not an easy or gentle man. In his business there was no room for a kind heart. He was 'old school, ' though. You owed the man who helped you. In this case, the man who gave him back his son, in more ways than one. Mike brought Jim home, had the Docs come to him and Mike hired 24/7 care for him. On the third day Jim woke up with tubes in his body and in strange surroundings.

"He's up, Mr. Manza!" A nurse said into a phone.

Mike, Paul, and two other men who were in white coats, came into the room.

"So, he lives and doth grace us mere mortals with his presence," Mike said in his best 'Medieval Lord' impression.

"Am I dead, finally? This must be heaven, but why do I hurt so much?"

"Well, Buddy, I think after your little ballet show, things caught up with you. The Docs here say a few inches, either way, and we might be having a funeral for you! Rest up; you're safe in my house, now. When you're better we can talk, more."

It was almost a week later when Paul started yelling at the nurse for his clothes and 'to get these damn tubes' out of him. She ran out. A few minutes later, a little pixie walked into the room with a scowl on her face.

"You just lie back and keep quiet. When you're ready, the Docs will take them out, and we'll get you some new clothes."

Jim could only stare at the girl. Her eyes seemed to look right through him and he fell back onto the bed. At the same time the girl saw the scars and holes in his body. She went to him, reached out and started to touch and feel the old wounds. She started to cry. Jim took her hand, held it and looked at her, wishing her to stop her tears. Their eyes met and things between them would never be the same again.

Mike stood in the doorway. He watched the man who had saved his son's life holding his daughters hand, both of them gazing at each other as viewing each others very soul. He walked away, thinking.

Gina was a constant visitor to Jim's room. In fact, you might say she was now in charge of his care. She fed him, washed him, and read to him. When he was asleep, she often went to him and stroked his face and hair. He was hers, now. He was who she wanted and needed.

Mike was not blind to what was happening. When Jim was strong enough to shower, Gina was right there with him. She held him up, washed his hair and body and every few minutes tears formed as her fingers ran over a scar or bullet hole in his body. All she could see was a man who would risk everything to save her brother. Now it was her turn to take care of him, as she continued to rub and wash his body, often holding her own nude parts against his.

One sunny day, they had a special party. Paul and Jim were brought out into the garden where guests, well wishers, and 'family' were gathered. As all the women except Gina eventually left, Mike stepped up and began his speech.

"I just wanted to express my deepest appreciation to a few people. To my daughter Gina, for opening my eyes and joining our 'family'; a rare thing for a female. She has spoken with her actions not her words. She has recognized what was done for Paul and that with this way of life comes responsibility, and that she took on. To my Son, Paul, he is like a new part of me. Too long have I listened to those who wanted other things for him. In almost losing him I began to listen to him, and what he wanted. I now have a son again, even if he does not ever become part of our 'business.' Finally, my deepest appreciation to a stranger to us all. A stranger who would risk everything to save my son. Can I do any less than offer anything and everything I have, to him? Although, I think I have been replaced in that chore by someone else, here? Since he has been with us, he has asked for nothing. He wants nothing, but I think there is something that will be keeping him with us, and that is everything to me. I'm not sure if I want to shake his hand, or kill him, though."