Clear!!!

The paddles were once more laid against his chest by the doctor--"Clear!,"--and all stood back, the room taking a breath as one would an inevitable funeral burial as the shock surged on through his body, his frame jerking off the bed in a violent convulsive that made me feel that my own stomach was being pulled out, the monitors leaping wildly and then falling into the same fatal position of the dreaded flat line, the beep reaching an infinite, soul-destroying cacophony. "Again! Increase to biphasic!" the doctor shouted, pouring sweat down his face, and they shocked him again, the thud seeming like a hammer on my heart, the arms of Mantovani jerking unnaturally, and there was a horrible moment when I believed that it was all over, the war had been won the last battle not with weapons but with sound not, and I was empty, shattered, the love we had made out of each other turning to ashes in this god-forsaken room.

The third shock gave the monitor a jolt--one, and then another, stronger--and the room breathed in relief--the beeps went on in a low but steady time, the doctor wiping his brow, "We have him back; begin the transfusion, monitor the arrhythmias--he is not out of the woods yet. Relief rushed down me like a tidal wave, and my legs turned to jelly and mom brought me to the floor, her arms across my body and rocked me like a child again, and whispered, He is here; he is still here and I nodded with sobs as the passion of his survival stirred even more than ever, a flame that would not die, even as his body struggled on the edge. Sanna sat down and threw his head into his hands and shook his shoulders like gray hair, the king of mafia turned into a father who was terrified of losing his son, and Conti, sliding down the wall by our side, made a weak smile, "Tough bastard; knew he would not take it easy.

Dad went over to the room, and Sanna felty his hand push against her shoulder, voice kind, "He has your strength. And Candice's heart. That much will take anything beating. The words were like a bridge between my two worlds Dads silent normalcy and the dark empire of Sanna in a moment of unadulterated humanity the family tie we had built together in the fire that was keeping us together when no other ties were willing to keep us united. The physician laboured, connecting additional IVs, getting Mantovani into balance, yet his expression was always sour, "He must have an operation--an operation, not this patch-up in the field. The bullet broke; we can do nothing with the inside. Ununless we take him to a hospital within an hour...

Words were slow, the aftermath of the war required again, the only decision that could be made that would be impossible, send the feds swarming all around the state, warrants at the ready to trape like traps, or see Mantovani bleed out in this farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, his life draining away drop by drop. Mantovani roused himself, and opening his eyes, which were cloudy with pain and drugs, tried to locate mine in the room, and a weak smile pulled his lips, and his voice was almost a whisper, "Piccola... safe...? I got on my hands and knees to his side and grabbed his hand, and kissed his knuckles, we are here. Just hold on a little longer." He weakly grasped, Love... you... don't... let go, and his eyes were closed again and the monitors beeping were beeping steadily and weakly, but of us all one, and it was a slender thread that bound him to us.

Sanna made up his mind, and said, We move him. Prepare the van, conti--armored, winding, about the secret clinic in Queens. Mom, dad look after Isabella--keep her safe till we get to know it is safe. Mom demurred, with fear flashing, I am not abandoning him, but Sanna cupped her face giving her a kiss, You are guarding our bargaining. We need you strong here." She nodded, with tears streaming and embraced me and said, bring him back to us. Dad picked me up in a bear hug, and choked, "Be careful, princess. Come home."

We put Mantovani on a stretcher, and the business was agonizingly slow, each jerk causing him to groan, and, as we dragged him out into the night, sirens screaming in the distance--growing nearer and nearer--the tires of the van squealing on gravel, I was holding his hand, and I saw his chest rise and fall at a dreadful speed, hoping we were in time. However, half the way there, the monitors spiked once more, the alarms screaming, his pulse lowered, the doctor in the back screaming, and he is crashing--stop, now! and the eyes of Mantovani flew open, and fixed on mine, in horror, and his hand reached out and grabbed me, like I was his life in his final breath, and burst out, "Candice... I..."

The van jerked to a halt, the doors were flung open, we were blinded by the headlights in the rear, and before I could act the doctor, federal agents, cars and cars, megaphones and megaphones, the command shouted to get out of the car and raise our hands--and there we were, stuck in the middle of nowhere as the feds circled round Mantovani like a pack of dogs.