"Bloody God awful stench down here." Harry's guide led him past several branches in the tunnels, splashing through water pooled in the rounded bottoms of pipes.

"Not surprising. I looks like your wastewater is mixing with drainage from all over the city."

"We can't convince the city administration it needs to separated, but that's another story. Here, left here." He swing his flashlight to illuminate as set of four numbers at the top of the next opening.

"That matches the map you gave me. Now there should be an access door that goes up a set of stairs toward the electrical conduit station. From there I should be able to access the lower level of the warehouse if your city records are correct."

"So far as I know, it was still there last year when we repaired a couple of transformers. It shouldn't be locked. No one but us poor utility inspectors come down here."

"We have arrived. Leave me here man, with my thanks." Harry closed his eyes, concentrating on the latch under his hand. He said his spell inside his head and felt the click. "It's open."

"Good luck mate. I hope your mission is successful." He turned and the small pool of light keeping the darkness at bay receded.

Harry pushed through the door, and cast a quick glow settling it a mere inch in front of his forehead. At first glance he knew it would look like a miner's headlamp. The stairs were exactly where his map indicated, and he started up. The underpinnings of a city were a strange place indeed. He heard the hum of electrical energy and felt the peculiar tingle as he pushed through the next door.

Skirting the strangle tangle of wires, and other contraptions, he found the door on the other side. This was it. Leaning his ear against it, he listened intently. Silence. Checking his wristwatch, he nodded. Enrico should be entering the nightclub at any moment.

"Ease my way on this dark day, and keep me hidden, shadow ridden. As I will, so mote it be, keeping the innocent safe and free." A pale green aura glowed around him as sparks flew from the emerald amulet on his chest. He zipped his jacket closed to hide it and opened the door.

A narrow passage between kegs of beer led to several sets of shelves. Bags of dry goods, and more crates of wine and other liqueurs were stored there, and he found the next barrier in his way. Another locked door. Hearing a key in the lock he slipped to the side. Into the shadow behind the steel slab that opened. Eduardo Russo himself. Glaring light from bulbs strung along the ceiling gave him the perfect view of the man.

Ebony black hair, dark eyes, and a sneering smile graced a rugged over long jaw. He spoke quietly to himself.

"Perfect. The boxes are ready. The next section section of floor is ready for concrete. Enrico Pucci will disappear like those who dared to defy me before him. I'll get his cousin when we take over the restaurant. His wife, the bitch who doesn't know when to keep her mouth shut, will go with him. Hell, the whole family except the women can die."

Harry folded his map in half, and when Eduardo stepped out to close the door, he slipped it into the narrow gap between the doorknob and the frame. The lock never latched. He gave it to the count of thirty and walked into a dimly lit hall. He could see stairs about fifty feet away and proceeded cautiously.

Passing four locked doors, he noted bright light in the gaps where they met the floor. Why? Something to investigate after the Russo family was in custody. Climbing quickly, he went up two flights of stairs and came out into the musty scent of freshly moved dirt. His glow showed him the forms and packed gravel of the area Eduardo referred two. Six deep holes sat in the middle of the new floor area.

"Boxes? More like coffins," Harry whispered to himself. "This has to stop now. Too many good men have lost their lives to this monster."

He picked his way toward the sultry tones of a burlesque dancer's music. This was it. Hopefully, Enrico and his men were ready for the firestorm the Mafia boss was about to unleash.

Pulling the heavy curtain away from the wall, he slipped past it into the backstage area, and keeping to the deep recesses between set sections, he made his way to the edge of the stage. Snapping his fingers inside his pocket, he extinguished the glow. A fine view of a woman dancing with a long feathered fan, and and even better place to observe the empty audience area. Rehearsal, and Enrico strode toward the only table with chairs.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"I'm going in, Pietro. I can't stay out here. I have to know what is going on. I can be of help for Harry. I've already done what I can for Enrico, but the other men creeping toward the secret entrance are sitting ducks."

She opened the truck door and slipped down to the gravel surface of the alley. Pulling her beret firmly down over her auburn hair, she snuggled her chin into the loose collar of her sweater, hiding most of her face. Hopefully, they would assume she was a new dancer coming in to work.

Giovanni told her Eduardo was making a new concrete floor behind the stage for the dancers. Could she find her way through? Slipping in the door right behind the last of the FBI team, she followed them down a sidewalk like hall toward music wafting through a dark curtain.

Lights flashed on, revealing newly placed wooden forms and six deep holes in the center of the area leveled and ready for new concrete.

The windows in the wall gave her a clear view. Gaia shuddered.

Gunshots erupted, and muffled screams echoed through the cavernous area. Men in dark brown suits poured through a gap in the thick curtains, pistols drawn, and she looked around franticly for some sort of hiding place. Nothing. Running back toward the exit, she noticed a dark nook and turned into it, and her foot dropped into nothing.

As Gaia fell her flailing hand found a railing and she wrenched her shoulder hard, before finding her balance on a set of stairs. Continuing down, she kept an arm against the wall, trying the doors along the way.

"What are you doing out of your room!"

The voice behind her brought her heart into her throat. Before she could answer her injured arm twisted up behind her back and she yelped.

"Back you go. I'll break your damn arm quite happily, so do as you're told."

She recognized the voice. Ricky. Leaning back, she went limp. Dropping to her knees she pulled his head down over her shoulders with her good arm and surprise was her huge advantage. Ricky's head landed on the hard floor with a crack. He was still. Now what?

Gaia searched his pockets. A bundle of keys on a ring jingled as she pulled them free. Blood flowed freely from his head, and she hoped he would live. He deserved to live in fear of his death for many years to come. Her shoulder ached abominably as she stepped over Ricky's limp body. Rolling him up on his side, she pulled his suit jacket up and found his pistol tucked under his belt. Better in her hands than his. Searching his pockets, she found a roll of bills with an elastic around it, and a slender folded knife.

Now back up. The gun fire spurted in quick volleys. Just how many bullets did these Mafia goons have. And where was Harry? More importantly, was Enrico alive and where was the briefcase?