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Mistaken Identity	By : Kanashii Category: S through Z > The Sopranos Views: 1825 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Sopranos, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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DISCLAIMER: The Soprano's characters belong to David Chase/HBO and the actors themselves. The OC's are mine. If you enjoy this story please check out my author name for other "mob" stories. If you like this story please visit my other "mafia" based stories on the other Database. (The Read only archives) under my Author name. Ciao~

Also note: While this story does not follow strict "canon", it could happen...Hey, ya never know!

The three men sat
in the car watching the local drugstore, Paulie �Walnuts� Gualtieri, Bobby
Baccalieri and Charlie DiAngelo who worked for Tony�s crew. They had been given
the assignment last week to kidnap the rich daughter of financier Douglas
Harrison who not only owed Tony Soprano 60g�s but who Tony also wanted deep in
his pocket for his HUD scams. It was Harrison who controlled a lot of the
appraisers and other key people needed for the appraising and final Ok of the
run down units in Newark NJ.
Sarah, daughter of Mr. Harrison was
supposedly in her early 30�s a bit of a humanitarian and bohemian who didn�t
often dress in overly expensive clothing and who also showed up at this
particular drugstore to get her weekly prescription of narcotic painkillers
that she was addicted to. The three men had seen her walk in less than 5
minutes ago, and they hoped the heavy pouring rain would help hide some of the details
of what they were about to do.
�Fuck.� Charlie lit
up a cigarette as he tried squinting through the downpour, �I hope this bitch
comes out soon and this goes well.�
�For all our sakes,
it better.� The sharply dressed form of Paulie grunted, �Otherwise both Tony
and Silvio will be all over our asses.�
�So do ya think
Harrison will pay the ransom on his daughter and all?� Bobby spoke up trying to
avoid Charlie�s cigarette smoke, �I mean what if he thinks we are just
bluffing, or worse gets the feds involved?�
�Shit!� both Paulie
and Charlie chuckled at the same time. Paulie shook his head, �Fuck that,
Harrison owes money to both Tony and to New York on some illegal deals, you
think he is gonna risk indictments and such bringing this out into the open?
Fuck no.�
Bobby shut up at that point and the three men just continued
watching the front door through the pouring rain, hoping Sarah Harrison would
be coming out soon. The picture they had of her wasn�t the best, just a half
blurred snapshot, and the woman was known to often just wear plain old jeans
and flannel shirts as she owned a horse farm. �Kind of a plain and ugly chick,
ya know?� Charlie murmured. �She wouldn�t be my idea of any kind of fuck, ya
know?� There were a few more half
hearted chuckles at that point and the men once again fell silent, waiting and
watching.

Charlene Lynch had
gone inside the drugstore a few minutes earlier herself to pick up her refill
on her husbands thyroid medication. She could have been a dead ringer for Sarah
Harrison, except where Sarah dyed her hair auburn red, Charlene�s came by
naturally. Because she worked at a dog training facility and was on her lunch
our she was also dressed in casual clothing, faded jeans, a denim jacket and a
t-shirt on underneath that read �Bite Hard!� on it. Charlene was already in
line to pick up her prescription when Sarah got in line behind her. They were
close to the same size and weight, dressed differently but similar. Charlene�s
long auburn hair in a neat ponytail while Sarah�s was just loose down her back;
Charlene had the glow of intense intelligence and awareness in her emerald eyes, while Sarah
had the look of a narcotic addict in her faded blue ones.
�I hate these
lines,� Sarah grumbled, �Lunchtime is always the most damn busy time.� She
spoke to Charlene.
Charlene half
shrugged, �Yeah, but what can you do, just wait, ya know?� she tried to smile
kindly at the other woman.
The line finally
began moving again and Charlene picked up her medication and paid for it. Her
mind was on her date with her husband of 10 years, her 9 year old son was
staying with her mother tonight and she and her husband had a whole romantic
evening planned together. She couldn�t wait to see Rick tonight. �Well good
luck to you.� Charlene said to the other woman in line behind her and then
tucking her medication into her denim purse and half pulling up her jacket went
to run out into the rain to her car.
�There! Over there!�
Paulie pointed as a woman who looked like the picture of Sarah Harrison came
jogging out of the drugstore. �Grab her!� Charlie nodded and threw the 4-door
sedan into gear and screeched around to the front of the drugstore. �Get the
bitch!�
Charlene wasn�t even thinking as the car
suddenly screeched along side of her; two men suddenly grabbed her and pulled
her into the back seat. It was all happening so fast, the strong hands of these
strangers who dragged her stunned into the back seat of the car. �Shut up and
cooperate, bitch!� one of them growled.
It was the move that broke through her
terrified numbness; she knew that if she didn�t get out of here, something very
bad was going to happen to her. Primal instinct kicked in and she did the only
thing she could, fought like a wildcat. Thrashing, biting, kicking and screeching
she desperately tried to fight the two men in the back who were trying to hang
onto her and tie her up.
�Fuckin� bitch!� one
of them growled and the goons renewed their struggles to subdue her. It was
literally a free for all in the back of the car, as Charlie now had the car in
gear and sped off as fast as he could through the pouring rain. Bobby tried to
hold her down and throw the ropes around her, one of his meaty fists catching
her on the back of the neck, but instead of calming down, the girl only
panicked and fought more. Paulie �Walnuts� now had gotten to her front and was
trying to control her flailing arms, �Would you fuckin� quit you bitch!� he
growled, his eyes flaring with his dangerous temper. He went to smack her
alongside of the head when by sheer luck her teeth and his hand connected. She
caught his hand in her teeth and then bit down as hard as she could, hoping to
rip his hand off, to gain enough freedom to somehow get out of this awful
situation.
�AAAAAHHH, FUCK!� Paulie screamed in pain,
blood was already flowing from his hand, �Fucking cunt, let go!!!!� the agony
and anger in his voice was undeniable. �She has me by the fuckin� hand!� he
screamed at his men, �Fuckin� get her off!!!!�
Bobby was trying to smash his fist into her
gut but it was hard as Paulie was half on top of her. It was just one tangled
mess of bodies writhing and fighting in the back seat. Bobby vainly tried
twisting her leg at the knee, hoping the excruciating pain would make her
release Paulie�s hand. But Charlene had adrenaline and sheer terror flowing
through her, she was not going to let go of the man�s hand no matter what, in
fact the more Bobby wrenched her leg and knee the harder she tore with her
teeth and ground down, like a terrier with a rat.
Paulie was getting desperate and worse his
temper was on overdrive now, �Fucking puttana
bitch!� he screamed in rage and drew his gun, �Yer dead! Yer fucking dead ya
cunt!�
�No, No!� Bobby tried to reason with Paulie;
Tony would have all their asses if this didn�t go down as planned. �Don�t kill
her!�
In a brief moment of self control, Paulie
swung the gun around so he was holding it by the barrel and used the heavy
handle to pistol whip her. He swung the gun down with his full force into her
head above her eye, a sickening crunch sounded throughout the car.
The shock of the blow loosened her grip and Paulie was able
to drag his bleeding and injured hand out of her teeth, his own anger filled
adrenaline now surging through him. Again and again he swung the handle of his
gun down on her forehead and temple like a crazy man wielding a hammer. �I�ll
fuckin� kill ya!� he growled, �Yer fuckin� dead ya bitch!�
Blood
began to splatter Paulie, the seats and the doors of the car as Paulie now beat
her senseless fully giving into his burning rage. �Paulie no!� Bobby grabbed
hold of the capo trying to restrain him. Beneath both men they could feel the woman
quivering in convulsions from the cruel blows to her head. �Quit, goddamn it!�
Bobby finally got hold of Paulie�s arms, preventing him from finishing the job.
�You want Tony to go nuts?�
Paulie finally settled, letting Bobby
restrain him. �Get off me you fat fuck.� He growled. Both men looked at the
girl below them. She still lived, barely. Her breathing was ragged; the left
side of her face was bloodied and ruined, the eye swollen shut, blood flowing
freely all over her, the car and them. She was no longer fighting anyone;
instead she lay beneath them unmoving in unconsciousness.
�Aw shit Paulie.� Bobby
just barely grunted releasing the capo, �We are fucked.�
�Eh,� Paulie tried
playing it down. �We just say she fell, ya know? The bitch fell, got it?� He
glowered at the other two men. �Besides, we are taking her over to that place
Furio has secured, he�s the one gonna be watching her, we are out of this now.
We can blame it on that fuckin� zip
Furio.�
Bobby just shook his head and said nothing,
knowing better than to argue with Paulie at this point. �Shit.� He muttered
under his breath, this was not how this was supposed to have gone down. They
had been told that Sarah Harrison wasn�t that strong, that she was usually high
on her painkillers. Now Bobby didn�t wonder if they were all gonna be screwed
by Tony.
They drove out to some backwoods hunting
cabin deep in the Pine Barrens, the plan was that Furio Giunta, Tony�s enforcer
from Naples was now going to be taking over her care and securing her until the
ransom was paid to Tony. Bobby was frankly surprised that the girl still was
breathing and living, in fact there were occasional ragged moans of pain that
softly came from deep within her.
The rain had eased off some now and the sky
was just a leaden grey with a steady drizzle that trickled off the late winter
tree branches and low hanging pine boughs. �I hate this goddamn place.� Paulie
grumbled, �I always have after that incident with the fuckin� Russian.� Charlie
and Bobby were already grabbing the semi-conscious woman and carrying her
towards the front door. Paulie just walked behind them glaring around him.
Furio had already opened the door and saw the
men bringing the badly wounded girl inside. �What happened?� he asked roughly,
�This was supposed to be easy thing.� His steel grey eyes flashed with a sudden
darkness.
�She fell, my fine Italian friend.� Paulie
rudely jabbed his finger into Furio�s muscular chest, �and that is all we know,
you understand?�
�Yeah, yeah.
Whatever.� Furio�s accented voice grunted with menace. He was not intimidated
by any of them. The Mafia here he felt was a joke, and so was Paulie Gualtiero.
�Put her there on couch.� He motioned to Bobby and Charlie.
�Well she�s all
yours now.� Paulie glanced around with obvious distaste at the small dingy hunting
cabin, �Tony will be contacting you soon. We got places to go and things to do.
Come on boys.� He glared once more at Furio and then turned and stalked out. Bobby and Charlie tried to look apologetically
at Furio, but they felt a bit uncomfortable under the hard unwavering glare of the
dour enforcer. Many of the men had heard stories of Furio�s cruel deeds and
enforcement jobs.
Furio watched as the men left and hurriedly
drove off. He hated America now, hated it with a passion and even worse his
mood was one of total anger and betrayal. This whole thing with Tony�s wife
Carmela still grated on him. He had indeed fallen for her, but maybe it was
because she was the only one, the only woman who had actually cared about him,
taken an interest in him and had intelligent conversation with him. The comare�s they were nice for quick sex,
but they were empty inside, mindless puttanas,
who were only interested in a man�s wallet. And everyone else in Tony�s famiglia treated him at best as some
robotic menacing guard dog to do their every dirty enforcement job and at worst
as an outsider.
The
rain was starting to pick up again and Furio strode over to the kitchen to fire
up some coffee and some pasta, like most Italian males, cooking was something
he enjoyed doing and it relaxed him. He had spoken to his uncle about the whole
Carmela Soprano thing and his uncle had told him that Furio had really only one
of two choices. Leave the states or kill Tony. Furio had been in the US for
over 3 years now, but in many ways he felt just as alone and foreign as he did
when he first stepped foot here on American soil. He had enjoyed his visit back
to Naples and his homeland of Italy, and while he had missed Carmela, his own
homeland still called strongly to him, and even more honestly deep in his heart
and soul he truly knew there could never be anything serious between him and Carmela.
They were far too different and worlds apart, she was used to money, to a man
who was a boss and pulled down a Boss�s salary. In many ways� Carmela was like
so many of the mafia wives here, greedy and self centered, not at all like the
ones back home in Italy.
With an angry grunt
at himself for his own mental wanderings he threw on a pot of water and then
poured himself a cup of wine. A slight groan from the living room dragged him
out of his daydreams and he walked back in to see the girl lying wrapped up on
the couch, fighting to regain consciousness.
�Fell my ass� Furio�s mind
hissed. He knew it was probably Paulie who had roughed her up so badly, Tony
had been explicit in wanting this woman unharmed and now Furio felt he would
probably get the brunt of this shit as well.
�Settle back.� Furio touched her lightly and
soothingly, �I get you cleaned up.� She seemed to immediately calm under his
touch and he went back to the kitchen to get some cloths and warm soapy water.
Dragging a small rickety chair next to the
couch he went about using the warm water to clean the blood off her face, even
though it was still oozing. He could see her left eye was swollen shut and the
left side of her face horribly bruised, swelled and cut open with a cruel
looking indentation on her forehead. �Vaffanculo.�
He muttered under his breath. She had been very badly beaten and he was
surprised she was still fighting to live.
Soft rumbles of thunder began to roll across the skies
outside and occasionally the girl would jerk away or tremble at the noise.
�Hey, easy, Ok?�
Furio grunted. �Is done now, you Ok. You let me clean you up.�
Again she settled under his gentle touch and soothing words
and allowed him to finish cleaning off as much of the blood as he could, but
Furio was no doctor or medic and her injuries were far beyond his capabilities
to help. �I know it hurts, I think maybe I have some aspirin. You think you can
swallow pills?� he tried to ask the semi-conscious woman. She just groaned a
bit in response to his question and he wandered off with the pail of water, now
stained an awful red with her blood to search for some aspirin.
As he dumped the
water down the sink he threw some pasta in the pot of now boiling water and
some coffee grounds in the percolator then dug around in the kitchen for
aspirin. He found a first aid kit in one of the cabinets, inside the first aid
kit was some kind of bottle with pills that said Tylenol. Furio�s grasp of reading
and writing in English was fairly poor, but he could tell it seemed like some
kind medicine for pain and he shook out 3 tablets into his hand and drew a
glass of water from the tap.
He was
surprised when he reentered the cramped living room and saw her sitting up,
weaving and looking around with a dazed expression in her one good eye.
�Hey, hey.� He said firmly but calmly. �You supposed to be
relaxing, but maybe is good thing you are up though, you can take these
medicines, eh?� he could tell she was in pain, disorientated and still scared.
He sincerely hoped he would not have to tie her up or restrain her as injured
as she was. �You just be good, cooperate with me and everything go fine, Ok?�
Her
one good eye struggled to focus on the man in front of her, her hand trying to
reach for his that held the pills, but her judgment was off and she reached
about 2 feet to the right, groping blindly in mid-air. �Here, here.� His large hand firmly but
gently took hold of hers and poured the tablets into her hand. �You take, they
help you pain.� She almost hungrily put the pills in her mouth and Furio put
the glass of water also into her grasp, helping to steady it as she drank
thirstily.

Normally weakness in someone was a turn off to him, made him uneasy, but
ever since he had been shot in the leg his outlook had changed. Also there was
something so compelling to him about this girl he couldn�t put his finger on
it. Perhaps it was the sheer strength of will inside her, or maybe it was even
the way she had unconsciously responded to his calming of her, but for some odd
and unexplained reason she touched the dark and haunted soul of the Neapolitan
enforcer.
No sooner than she had swallowed down the
tablets than she once again succumbed to her injuries and sank down into
unconsciousness. Furio helped swing her feet back onto the couch and then
wrapped her securely in the blankets. It was only March out and still quite
cold here in New Jersey, so he strode over to the large unused fireplace and
then went to work stoking up a fire to keep them both warm. After that he
stalked back into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of the strong coffee he
had made and checked the pasta now cooking enticingly. As he began to reheat a
jar of homemade sauce in a skillet his cell phone rang, checking the number he
could see it was the boss, Tony Soprano. With a slight sigh he flipped open the
phone. �I here.� He said.
�So, everything go
good? Is our guest taken care of?� the voice of the boss on the other end
asked.
�Yeah she here,�
Furio deliberately left out the extent of her injuries, he didn�t want to be
the one to piss off Tony, �A little roughed up, but so far things going just
fine.�
�Good.� Tony mumbled
noncommittally. �I�ll be over in 3 days to check things out personally, we�ve
got word going over now to the father. Keep her secured and in line.� In the
background of the call Furio could hear one of Tony�s comares giggling and laughing.
�Yeah, got it.�
Furio grunted a bit more angrily than he intended to, and hung up the phone. As
he stirred the sauce and kept an eye on the pasta his mind was speeding down dark
and twisting corridors he had not imagined he would be thinking of. A huge part
of him had, had enough of Tony Soprano and his crew and wanted to go back to
Naples and his true Famiglia there; but
another part of him, the part that had always been raised as a Camorrista fought those thoughts. It was
disloyal, he had been told by Don Zio Vittorio�s daughter to come here and
supervise the deal with the car imports and to work for Tony as his soldier and
enforcer. �Avanti-indietro.
Push-pull.� He felt like two Families, two countries were playing tug of war
with him and worse his own soul was pulling away the hardest. �Stupidaggini testa di cazzo.� He
grumbled again under his breath as he dumped the noodles into the sauce and
allowed the whole mess to simmer for awhile.
After dinner was cooked he ate his portion
and then threw some pasta and sauce on a plate for the girl and took it out to
the living room. �Hey, wake up there, Sarah.� He sat down half on top of her,
half on the couch balancing the plate of noodles in his hand. �You eat now,
eh?�
She struggled to wake up, all her body wanted
to do was sleep for days on end, and the agonizing throbbing and pounding of
pain in her skull wasn�t helping. Now this person was forcing her awake, why
wouldn�t he just leave her be? Who was he? She fought through layers of muddled
sludge to remember, to piece together what had happened to her, but it was useless.
She had vague memories of being beaten in a car, she had been shopping
somewhere for something but it seemed everything was just a disjointed mess in
her mind. She had nothing to draw on, there was one image, a handsome man with
smiling blue eyes and she felt she should know him; her heart seemed to know
him. A vague image of her and him in a wedding ceremony pervaded her thoughts.
Her husband perhaps, but what was his name? Another face swam lazily in her
mind, a handsome young boy, but again she had no name to put to the face. This
strange man, the one with the accent who was now pushing her to awaken, she had
no memories of. A part of him scared
her, but a part of her felt safe with him as well.
�Come on, up, up.�
Furio nudged at her again, trying to get her to eat something. �You need to
eat.�
She pulled away from him, tried to fight him
but she was far too weak and injured and he was far too muscular and strong. He
tried to force a forkful of the pasta into her mouth, but her jaws were too sore,
still too swollen to work properly. It hurt her even to think about eating. She
just flopped over limp and unfighting like a rag doll wanting to drift back
into blessed sleep. �Oh forget then,� He groused, �you want to go hungry, then
go hungry.� He got up, his temper flaring. Not at her, no, it was that idiot
capo Paulie Gualtiero he would have liked to have beaten to a pulp. He dumped
her uneaten plate in the sink and then went back into the living room to sit
for awhile drinking some of the strong coffee he had brewed.
A few times he went
over and checked on her wounds, shaking his head with a half frustrated gesture,
he wished he could do more for her but he just didn�t know what to do. The
angry wounds were still oozing blood, and he was certain that her skull was
fractured from the way it was sunken in by her temple and forehead. Since she
was so deep in sleep he checked out the rest of her body as well for any other
injuries, gently removing her jeans and her flannel top. His eyes fell on the bruised
and swollen sight of her knee; someone had tried breaking her leg as well as
her skull. �What, one woman to strong for all three of those cafones?� he half snorted. �They have to
beat you senseless to get you to cooperate? Stupido�s.�
he commented more to himself than to her. He knew he wouldn�t have to tie her
up, with her injuries she wouldn�t be going anywhere, if she even survived the
night.
As night slunk
silently over the Pine Barrens with a sinister foreshadowing Furio easily carried
her in his arms and put her in the bed next to him. If she did get up, fight or
try and escape, her moving around would instantly wake him up. Thunder still
rumbled ominously over the land and the rain continued beating down as Furio
stripped down to his underwear and slid in under the covers next to her. He had
placed several towels on her pillow and gently around her head to try and
prevent the oozing bleeding of her wounds from getting everywhere. However she
just lay there quiet and unmoving where he put her, soft sighs of pain coming
from deep within her. �Dormire sereno,�
he spoke to her soothingly in Italian, �I here if you need anything. Rest easy
now.� Her breathing leveled out and even her groans of pain subsided as Furio
briefly ran his fingers almost hesitantly over the uninjured areas of her face.
After adjusting the covers snugly around her he laid back himself and his mind
swiftly dreamt of the warm breezes of the Gulf of Gaeta and the beautiful
farmlands and estates outside of Mondragone and Gaeta, his homelands outside
Napoli.
He woke up fairly
early the next morning and immediately turned his head to look at his bed
companion. For a brief moment, he thought she was dead. Her one eye that could
open was staring at him with a startling intensity, but then she slowly blinked
and her emerald green eye continued looking at him, meeting his own tombstone
grey eyes.
�You up, eh?� he
spoke a bit hoarsely, still waking up himself. �How you feel?� She tried to work her painfully stiff jaws
and could only mumble some reply he couldn�t quite understand. �I glad you still with me.� He said honestly
as he stretched sending blood flowing through his awakening muscles, �I think
maybe you not make it through the night, but you tough. That is good.� He sat
up, his back against the backboard. He was pleased to see that her good eye
followed him fluidly, still keeping him firmly in her sights.
�Who�Where?� she barely was finally able to
get out of her mouth.
Furio put one finger against her lips and
briefly shook his head. �You safe, that�s enough to know.� He eluded that he
was giving her no other information, that this was all she was going to get
from him. �You hungry now?� he asked as he glanced at her.
She just nodded and made a half strangled grunt
of agreement that he took as a yes. �Ok, I go make breakfast. You keep resting,
understand?� he instructed as he swung off the bed and quickly dressed himself
and then padded over to the bathroom to take his morning piss.
As he stood in the kitchen scrambling up some
eggs with fresh peppers and sausage to make omelets for the two of them, he saw
that the rain had cleared leaving it sunny and bright outside with a hint of
warm spring weather sliding in over New Jersey. He had just finished scooping
the omelets onto two plates when he heard a loud crash and a thump!
He hurried to the bedroom and saw her half lying on the
floor, gripping her injured leg with her teeth bared in pain, fresh blood
flowing down her face with a steady drip.
�Cazzarola!� he growled at her, �What the
fuck you doing?� his grey eyes flashed with unreadable emotions. Weakly she
pointed towards the bathroom as her world swam in extreme pain. �Why you not
ask me to help you?� Furio half growled in anger, again it was anger more at his
himself for forgetting she would need to take care of basic necessities as
well.
This time a tear ran down her good eye mixing
with the blood that was also flowing down her face. While Furio had never been
bothered by any of the violence he had ever had to exact on anyone in the name
of �business� male or female, her tears touched him far more deeply than even
he could understand.
�Ok, Ok, easy.� He held his hands up in a
placating manner, his voice back to being soothing and gentle, �I know, because
you not able to talk. Come.� He held his arms open to her and leaned down to
scoop her up. She allowed him to assist her and he carried her to the small
bathroom and leaned her up against the sink. He pointed to her underwear, �Can
you�� he paused, �You know, do this yourself or what?� She nodded yes and sniffed back anymore
tears. �Ok, well after you done, you wait,� he emphasized the words, �You wait,
for me to come back and help you. I be back like in two minutes. No trying to
go out of here yourself.� He turned and left giving her privacy to attend to
her needs.
Skillfully balancing two plates of eggs, and
two cups of coffee he placed them in the bedroom and then carried her back to
the bed. This time when he bought the food around she actually tried reaching
for the plate her arms trembling and reaching outwards for the food. �You
eyesight still bad, I help you.� Furio said flatly and sat next to her to be
able to feed her. But his eyes had fallen on something else far more intriguing
to him. On her left hand she bore a wedding ring, a single band of gold on her
finger with no other jewelry. From what he had been briefed Sarah Harrison was
unwed, and certainly not engaged.
�What this?� Furio
glared a moment and grabbed her left hand looking at the ring. His fingers
tried to slide the ring off and with a growl of anger she tried to pull back
preventing him from doing so. �Quit fighting or I break that finger.� He hissed
and held her hand even more firmly; he slid the gold band off and could see the
telltale sign on her finger that spoke of a ring that was never voluntarily
taken off. Her finger held the pale indentation that spoke of years of having lovingly
worn that wedding band, put there by some man who truly loved her. He glanced
at the ring he now had taken off and looked inside of it, it was inscribed with
some elegant writing in English he couldn�t read but he could make out two
names, Rick and Charlene.
Furio�s heart began
to slam within his chest. Could Paulie and his group have made a horrible mistake?
Was this not Sarah Harrison after all?
�What you name?� he looked at her, his storm grey eyes seeming to pierce
her soul. �What you name!!� he growled again more forcefully.
She was scared now,
so far this strange but handsome man with his thick Italian accent had been
fairly nice to her, but for whatever reason right now he looked positively
deadly. �Charlene.� She barely whispered still trying to work her painfully
swollen jaws. �Charlene.� She dared to hiss back at him as she tried to reach
for the ring.
�Oh fuck me�� the
man leaped off the bed still gripping her ring and began to pace like a caged
animal. Now he mumbled and growled in Italian and she couldn�t understand a
word of what he was speaking. He walked over to a dresser and pulled out a
wicked looking 9mm pistol, his voice still growling and cursing in Italian.
Now she was truly
terrified. The man had flung the ring across the room with a violent gesture
and stalked over to her with a calm professional look on his face, the cruel
gun pointed right between her eyes. �Bad mistake was made, Charlene.� He said
with almost no emotion. He pulled back the loading mechanism as a round slid
into the chamber, the gun now mere millimeters from her. She didn�t flinch, she
didn�t move. In as much pain and confusion as she was in over this whole mess,
she almost welcomed the quick end. Her green eye just glanced up at his sharp
and deadly grey ones as they locked gazes, the seconds dragging between them.
�Vaffanculo!� Furio half screamed in
anger and lowered the gun. Why was this whole thing crashing down around him?
It wasn�t the girls fault Paulie and his idiots had grabbed her instead of the
real Sarah Harrison. Technically Furio knew he should do the right thing, kill
Charlene and bury her out in the Pine Barrens and then let Tony know the wrong
woman was grabbed before this whole house of cards came falling down with dire
consequences on all of them. But right now Furio Giunta hated Tony Soprano and
his crew with a passion; it was only this waving of his own loyalties that kept
him from killing the hostage. He remembered the way the girl had calmed under
his touch and the intelligent look in her exotic green eyes.
In almost weary submission he sat down on the
foot of the bed facing the girl, the gun gripped tightly in his hand but not
pointed at her. �We talk, and you best answer me or I finish what I was going
to do a moment ago, you understand?� his eyes bore into her.
She released the
breath she had been holding and nodded wearily back at him. Deep down she
didn�t really want to die, her instinct for self preservation was far too
strong.
�Now, Charlene,�
Furio spoke to her. �What you last name?�
Charlene thought long and hard but it eluded her, she thought it began with
the letter L, but that was all she could remember. She told this information to
the dour looking Italian in front of her. �Hmmm.� He nodded with no further
comment. His questioning went on for the next 15 minutes, and all the two of
them could figure out was that she had gaping holes in her memory, dates and
information screwed up or disjointed into fragments. She knew she was married to
a man named Rick but couldn�t remember her son�s name. She did remember the
name of the dog training kennel she worked at but not what town she lived in.
�Eat,� Furio
finally thrust the plate of peppers and eggs in front of her as he got up and
began pacing again, his mind churning in multitudes of thoughts and plans. He
knew Tony was going to find out soon enough this was the wrong girl. As soon as
the ransom note was delivered Harrison would think the Soprano�s nuts as his
daughter Sarah was safe and sound, and it would only be a short matter of time
before Tony figured it all out as well and either ordered Furio to kill
Charlene or had someone else do it. Furio knew this was the final push he was
waiting for to leave here, not just New Jersey and Tony�s famiglia, but this whole damn country. There was nothing left here
for him now, no dignity, no life, and no love. His soul longed to be back home
perhaps once again working for Zio Vittorio�s people or even being a simple
farmer or worker on one of the rich palazzo estates deep in the countryside of
Gaeta or Capua.
He glanced at the
girl again who was working with shaking hands to stuff the eggs as best she
could into her jaws that could only open slightly. He didn�t know why but he
wanted her, wanted to make her his, to take her from her husband and make her
belong to him, to have her fall in love with him. Once in Italy she couldn�t
complain or tell anyone, she couldn�t speak the language. But here in the
states she was a dead woman no matter what. Even if Furio turned her loose, the
police would be investigating and Tony would have someone take her out before
she could finger people and testify.
Charlene paused a
moment as though sensing Furio staring intently at her. �Not to worry, all
going to work out just fine.� He quietly said then went and retrieved her
wedding band he had thrown across the room. It would help pay for the things he
needed to buy, the extra plane tickets and such. Besides, if she was ever going
to wear a wedding band again it would be his.
She looked hopefully a moment as he idly fingered
her wedding band, one of her hands trying to stretch out hoping he would give
it back to her. He just looked at her matter of factly and shook his head.
�No.� he said and pocketed it, �You not have need of it anymore.� And then he
turned and left the room, he had a lot of calls to make in a very short time.
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Mistaken Identity