Danny shook his head. "We will tell Mister Roccoli."
Tommy, adamant: "No, you won't."
Yuki never stopped looking at Mike as she said simply, "Yes. We will."
Mike finally had all he could take. He started to snarl at her, "Fuckin' bitch -- !"
But the turk didn't realize that Yuki had endured all she could take from him. With hideous speed, her right hand shot forward in a fist and punched Mike in the face. He stumbled backward, blood flowing from his very broken nose as if from twin faucet taps, and he fell to the pavement.
For the rest of the guards, that was it. Many of them started to reach under their jackets for their artillery. Artillery without silencers, Tommy knew, and he shouted at them, "No fuckin' guns, goddammit!" The guards restrained themselves...barely.
Danny knew he was tempting certain death...but he didn't care. None of Yuki's servants cared, as they simply stood there behind her. They were here for her, come what may. Tommy was slowly starting to figure that out as he looked at Yuki and the others with a volatile mix of confusion and barely-restrained rage. Whoever this bitch is,
Tommy thought, she won't take no for an answer, one way or the other. But she ain't
suicidal, she...she's fuckin' committed to seein' Mister Roccoli. And fuckin' Danny's backin' her up all the way, even if it means he'll die. So are Ace and the rest.
With that recognition of the truth, Tommy grunted and said, "It's okay. We won't need guns to keep you from goin' inside. Boys?" His guards stepped forward and formed something of a scrimmage line, a living barrier between Yuki, Danny and the others and the oak front doors of the Roccoli Residence. "And you know there's more inside, ready to go on your asses when I say the word. Even without guns, Danny...these aren't good odds."
Danny nodded. "For you? You're right." And then the man in the cream-colored suit surprised Tommy and his underlings: he took a few steps back...as Yuki stepped forward towards the guards.
One of the enforcers couldn't help but ask: "What? Just her?!"
Tommy couldn't believe it. This bitch honestly thinks she can get through us?! Maybe in a Jackie Chan flick, but not here!
But Yuki begged to differ. She said, "I will speak to your employer." She might as well have told them the sun would rise later in the morning.
Tommy shook his head. "I don't think so. Ladies' first, boys!" Cautiously, the scrimmage line turned into something of a horseshoe formation as the guards stepped closer to Yuki. Tommy's eyes never left hers when he said to them, "Don't do anything to make her scream, though. We don't wanna wake the neighbors." He smiled, as if he
just made a joke.
Yuki gave him a smile in return...but there was no humor in it.
A couple of the guards got impatient and rushed her, one gaining ground on the other as if they were in a race. Yuki showed them the finish line: she whirled and planted a spinning back kick into the one in the lead with such ferocious power he might as well have been hit by a truck. He flew backward into the other man, and both crumpled to the ground.
That was when the nine remaining guards under Tommy's command rushed her, as well. And they began falling before Yuki. Hard.
As Tommy watched all of this, anger gave way for revived fear...but this time, it wasn't fear of what he didn't know, of what he couldn't have expected when Danny seemed to be led by this woman in black. No. This fear was worse: this was the fear one knew when confronted by the sudden unveiling of a threat that just grabbed you by the balls and
with the grip of a vise and wouldn't let go. Fear born from seeing the men under your command, not all of them buddies, but guys you knew had been around the block, who had seen their fair share of rough and tumble, experienced soldati who were picked for securing your fucking Don...and they were having their heads handed to them with no effort whatsoever by a beauty who was a diamond. Fuck martial arts movies, this woman was something else...something Tommy could barely even call human as one of his guards, a man over three-hundred pounds in weight, got kicked under the chin and the capo heard a muffled crack! from the impact and he knew the big goombah's jaw got broken, and he lifted off the ground over a foot high and almost out of his fucking shoes
like he was traveling by the space shuttle. When the numbers of his men were reduced to two, two men who looked at their fellow enforcers lying on the ground like heaps and then at the woman, Tommy knew from their expressions they were probably thinking of
going to work in a safer environment. Maybe Iran.
Tommy fearfully took a few steps back and almost tripped over Mike, who was still on the ground. He had tried to get up, though, and Tommy felt a little ill when he saw Mike's nose was still bleeding like a gusher, had bled all over the front of his suit and shirt, turning it a nasty shade of red. His face was red, too, full of incredulous rage. Mike
tried to speak, but he had a hard time of it as he said, "Bidgg...brog muh fuggin' NOZ!"
(Translation: Bitch...broke my fuckin' NOSE!)
Mike reached into his jacket to whip out his Micro Uzi, but Tommy stopped him with a murderous look. Not one out of anger of his own...but pure desperation. He said coldly,
"You fire that gun, Mike, I swear I'll fuckin' shoot you myself!" With frantic haste he used his cell phone again as his remaining men cautiously advanced on Yuki, but this time he didn't wait for his Capo Bastone to answer the moment he picked up. "Guido! Guido,
we got a goddamn situation out here!"