Memoirs - Memory 5

'I've got your tracks covered.' ÆlÆNOR reported. 'You are clear to enter the Carabinieri HQ.'

Of course, I trusted that voice. ÆlÆNOR was the Lucchese family's strategist. No surprises she graduated with a Doctorate of Physics and a PHD of Law Enforcement at the tender age of 14.

The back story of me, a member of one of Italy's most deadly Mafia groups entering the major Italian law enforcement HQ is that my dad was sent to jail because of a tip-off, conspiracy, corruption and most importantly a severe miscarraige of justice.

Not that he minded though. Dad was the one who waltzed into the Carabinieri HQ singing the song 'Party Rock Anthem' in front of the counter. It took about 15 minutes for the poor guy to identify a Mafia member with a 50 terabyte Interpol profile. Dad was locked up in the local guantanamono within half an hour, because he coorperated.

However, that was the plan. Dad get caught and we let him taste prison food for a day, then we bust him out of jail. In this case, the one busting him out is me. I put on my print-on tattoo on my fore-arm, then proceeded into the Carabinieri HQ. 

The first thing I did when I entered was to lean against the officer's counter, spilling all his coffee and flaunting off my tattoos. After yelling in pain for several minutes, he cooled down and shot me a withering glare. Obviously with my tattoos and actions, he already has got a bad impression of me. Not like I gave a damn though. That was going to be the last we would see of each other.

'What do you want?' The officer snarled. It was hard to take him seriously though. His face was comically tomato red, and I could have bet on my blood that I saw steam hooting out of both of his ears.

'I want to rent a room, 3D2N, Lunch and dinner provided.' I replied. Apparently my poker face drove Mr Officer crazy.

'This is not a goddamn hotel, smart boy.' Mr Officer growled. 'You want a room you get off my counter and look for a proper hotel, and I hope your bedsheets are torn.' 

'I thought the sign outside stated Hotel de Police,' I inquired 'I have heard that people have stayed a lifetime here for free.'

'ÆSEN, serious.' A stern voice sounded in the earpiece attached to my ear. 'We are on a jailbreak mission and this is no time to crack jokes.' I obeyed. Of course, since it was ÆlÆNOR, I would always obey her. One, she was the Lucchese family strategist. Two, well... I see her in a different light from all my other friends. You get my point, and no more probing!

Mr Officer rolled his eyes. 'You ever commit a crime smart aleck?'

I replied a simple No. That was the biggest joke I have ever told in my life.

'Then you come back when you have commited one.' Mr Officer retorted. I raised an eyebrow. Apparently Mr Officer required more baiting.

I leaned forward, my face centimetres away from his. 'Dude, I am a potential criminal,' I whispered ominously into his face, 'You let me go now, I may screw everything up. Big time.'

The fat guy in blue pushed me back and told me, 'I tell you what, smartass. After you have screwed things up, then you come to me. I will have a nice gray cell for you.'

I stopped leaning on his counter and turned my back to him. I took a step forward, pretending to get out through the door. Without warning I jumped, turning in mid-air. I stretched out a leg and smashed Mr Officer in his face at point blank. That was the second time in 15 minutes his face turned beetroot again. His subordinates subdued me in less than 5 minutes, because I coorperated. I chuckled as I heard the swearing and yellings of Mr Officer in the background.

Mr Officer personally escorted me to my nice gray cell.

'The view would not be a problem.' Mr Officer insulted. 'All cells have the same visual landscape.'

 He attempted to key in the passcode on the keypad at the side of the gate. He tried, and failed. Before his fat hairy arm reached the keypad, I backflipped and smashed his face for the third time in the row, against the railings. I hooked out the keys from his back pocket and unlocked my handcuffs. I used Mr Officer's handcuffs against himself, and cuffed him to the railing of the cell. After chucking his own sock into his mouth, I leapt to the ceiling and kicked off a loose tile. I then proceeded to find my father.

After scouting through the rest of the cells, I finally found my dad. He was clocking his three hundred and sixty second sit up against the wall when I entered.

'You took your time.' Dad commented.

I rolled my eyes. Assassin or not, I was still a human teenager. 

'You want me to come back later?' I retorted. 'I feel like getting myself some bubbletea, you know?'

Dad smiled and told me it was fine. He gave me a bear hug as a father and I returned it as a son. I released after a few moments. That was when men in black started to swarm into the corridor.

Dad frowned and whispered, 'I thought you came in... didn't you?'

'Getting into prison, that's easy.' I muttered as a guilty child, 'Getting out, the difficulty is about the same as solving Pythagoreas Theorem.' 

Dad shot me a withering glance and surged forward. I stood my ground, looking for all possible escape routes. I knocked out a SWAT team member and pickpocketed his taser. I then strode over to an elevator and shorted out the button circuit. The doors opened with a pleasant 'ding' and I was greeted with the sight of tangled looking cables and wires. 

'That's your shortcut?' Dad asked, with an eyebrow raised.

I shrugged and began to absail upward. Dad sighed and said this uder his breath.

'I'm too old for this.' That was one of his best jokes.

After we got out of the HQ and into the fresh air outside, I was first to realize that we were trapped. The great gate that led to the streets outside. I saw a trickle of sweat slide down Dad's side of his face. I also felt the same way. We had to take action. Fast.

I swung my head, panning over the area. There had to be some way out. Dad started to dent and tear open the gates. However that would have been of little use even if we got out of that fortress. The Carabinieri would be able to catch up with us easily because they had...

I swung my head wildly to my left and dashed toward in that direction. I shattered a window made of bullet proof glass into smithereens and vaulted through the gap. I hotwired the Aston Martin Law Enforcement Stealth Interceptor and revved it to full speed. I did a 360 degree drift at 276 kmph and tripped Dad over his feet. The frontal passenger door was open hence he fell neatly into the car seat in a sitting position. I advised Dad to fasten his seatbelts. He complied, but I had a feeling I would be grounded for a few months after this was over. 

Dad helped me keep a lookout of the surroundings. Something caught his eye.

'That demolisher, I hope it would not be used against us.' Dad quipped.

I looked into the direction of the said demolisher. It was a Scania Primer, a prime-mover most probably used by the Italian Police to form roadblocks. Many metal rails were resting on a 45 degree angle. Dad saw the intent in my eyes and did the best he could do. Facepalm.

I revved the Interceptor up to its full horsepower, and executed a wheelie. The front wheels jerked up and barely made it to the makeshift ramp. I pumped the accelerator even harder, taking the Interceptor higher. 

We reached the end of the full length of the metal railings, and I let momentum do its work. The Interceptor leapt off solid ground and leapt into open air, after a period of time, which seemed an eternity, the Interceptor jolted and landed violently on the marble flooring of the third storey of the Carabinieri HQ.

I slapped myself to knock off the shock of the impact from the landing. I did not spare anytime to check up on Dad, but in case anyone was wondering, yes. He was perfectly fine. I drifted around a corner and went down a fight of stairs. I glanced at the blueprint of the building, which was conviniently pinned up on the wall. I used my heightened sense of direction, derived from my Parkour, and began to plan the quickest route out of this metaphorical lion's den. I made a drift U-Turn and proceeded West. Toward good ol' Mr Officer's head study.

Let me tell you people a little something. My impression of a study has always been a space where many encyclopedias were kept, with a bespectacled doorman at the side guarding the entrance, lined with an oakwood frame. It never occured to me that a study had doors as an entrance.

Dad seemed to wake up from his shock and trace and started to talk in steely tones. Apparently he was trying to keep himself calm, and I did not blame him.

'ÆSEN, son , there are doors ahead.' Dad said.

I admitted the point.

'Let's renovate.' I simply suggested. 

I smashed the Interceptor through the double willow-wood doors and sent dozens of books flying and strewing them about. Then I did something stupid.

I revved up the engine even more, and smashed the Interceptor into the window, that led to the exterior of the Carabinieri. For the second time in 15 minutes, I flew again.

We were suspended in mid-air for a long while. Not surprising considering the fact it was about 55 feet high. What followed after was a falling sensation and I started to perk up my senses. The Interceptor landed on all four wheels and I immediately executed a drift to minimize impact. After spinning 1080 degrees, I sped off, running over a police officer attempting to beat the car up with his baton. I reported in.

'ÆGLÆCA is fine.' I enuciated clearly. 'Making my way back to base.'

'Great!' replied ÆlÆNOR, 'Now what are the next mission parameters?' she asked.

'Let's talk over dinner.' I replied. 'I'm hungry.'

ÆlÆNOR chuckled and cut of the communication. It was a sweet sound.