The Asmara Jugar the Mafia
Demonic Hand

With gallant steps, Adriano walked quickly towards his study. He reached into his cell phone and immediately contacted Pierre. In a two-tone call, the loyal aide answered the call immediately.

“Come to my room right now, Pierre!' tell the owner of the mansion, shortly after Pierre said the word 'hallo'.

Adriano hung up the phone when he got to the door.

The door was made of iron and had an automatic lock using fingerprints. Only Pierre was given free access in and out of the room. However, Adriano had thought of adding Mia's fingerprints there.

After opening the lock, the door shifted. Adriano stepped up quickly. He grabbed files obtained from Matteo's lawyer, then reread them.

Meanwhile, Pierre came in when Adriano put the papers back into the map. “Is there a task for me, Mister?” asked Pierre who was already standing in front of the work desk.

“Be prepared, Pierre. We will go to Sicily in a moment,” Adriano said without turning his head. He was busy tucking his beloved gun around his waist, then fixing the location of the watch on his left wrist.

“To Sicily? For what, Mister?” pierre asked as he scrunched his forehead.

“I found a new clue on the Matteo case,” Adriano replied with a smile. Adriano's answer, made Pierre stand sculpted. He did not move even though the master was already in the doorway. Adriano was forced to turn around while shaking his waist. “Come, Pierre! We don't have much time,” take him.

“Since when did you care so much about the development of the Matteo de Luca case? I feel I don't know you anymore,” protested Pierre with a long sigh.

“I'm still the Adriano you know, Pierre. Comeon!" bring again.

“Then, what secrets are you hiding from me, Sir? How much do I not know? One of them, including your marriage to Matteo's widow?” Pierre sounded disappointed.

“To be, you're happy because I've found a patch of heart. Isn't this what you expected?" Adriano turned for a moment to the faithful adjutant.

“Iya, but why should widow Matteo de Luca?” Pierre remained inexhaustible.

“You can't force where my heart will dock, Pierre,” said Adriano, who was losing his temper. “Now, we've had this unimportant talk. Until whenever, you are the person I trust the most. However, there are certain things that I cannot explain to you.”

“Included about the cause you were injured two years ago?” pierre's fishing line doesn't seem to know despair. His attitude made Adriano take a deep breath.

“Iya. Including that. I promise I'll tell you everything later. Right now, I need your help to accompany me to Sicily,” Adriano replied with great emphasis.

“Of course, Sir." With a step that was no less gallant than Adriano, Pierre walked to the front yard, where one of Adriano's luxury cars was waiting to take them to the airport in Nice, France.

Five hours of travel time required by Adriano private jet, to arrive at Catania Airport. Armed with Marco's information about the Klan de Luca's splinter organization, Adriano soon marched towards San Giorgio, a densely populated area of the island.

“My men have also investigated it there, Mr. D’Angelo. But they got nothing."

These are the words Marco remembered by Adriano.

The rental car driven by Pierre, then stopped in front of the slum apartment complex. They were silent for a while before deciding to leave. “Which building, Sir? There are three apartment buildings lined up here,” asked Pierre puzzledly.

“West Building, Pierre,” Appoint Adriano. He was so sure Marco's men had missed something. “This is the importance of the boss plunging directly into the location,” Adriano said as he walked into the elevator, which looked very unsafe.

The elevator wall peels here and there. A few number buttons beside the door had already slipped out of place. The elevator even squeaked, as it moved upwards.

“Are you sure this thing can work properly, Mister?” Pierre's outstretched hand touched the elevator wall with an anxious look.

“Take it easy, Pierre. We're not gonna die because of this elevator,”'s funny Adriano.

Justright. Pierre was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief, when the elevator doors opened. They arrived at the floor in question. Adriano looked at his palm, where he wrote the number of the apartment they were going to.

“Master." Pierre grabbed and slightly pulled Adriano's arm, as if trying to prevent the master from stepping.

“What's up?” ask Adriano astonishment.

“What will you get from all this?” Pierre asked back.

“Slight happiness for Mia,” replied Adriano straightforwardly. “At least, I can reduce one of its many loads.”

“I really don't understand.” Pierre shook his head slowly. “She's wife of your enemy.”

“I haven't considered Matteo my enemy in a long time, ” Adriano said.

Pierre nodded back. “I don't understand anymore. However, I do love you and will support whatever your decision is, Sir." Pierre patted Adriano on the back, then walked ahead.

By then, Pierre had been standing in front of a door, with the same number as the one on Adriano's palm. “Is this the place?” Pierre's index finger leads to the number attached to the door.

“Betul,” hiss Adriano. He tried to knock it slowly. However, there was no response from within. For the second time, Adriano knocked even harder. There was no sign that the door would be opened.

Pierre was getting impatient. He turned the door handle that was round in shape and looked ancient. But it turns out that the door is locked. "What if we just break it down, Mister?” bargained for.

Adriano immediately moved his hand as a sign of rejection. “I have a quieter way,” whispered.

Slowly, Adriano turned the needle. He pulled her carefully. Adriano then put it in again, until a 'click' sound was heard'.

Without making a sound, Adriano managed to turn the door handle and open it. Quietly, they entered the apartment that looked vacant. Adriano circulated the view, until the tail of his eyes caught a figure of a man who fell asleep on the sofa butut in a prone position

“What is he dead?” whispered Pierre.

Adriano did not answer. He approached the man and touched his neck. Unexpectedly, the man had soared in shock, that Adriano and Pierre reflexively pulled their pistols from behind their waists. Both of them pointed their guns at the stranger.

“Who are you?” ask the man, with a pale face. Fear emanated clearly from the look in his eyes.

“Tell me your name first, I'll answer who we are." Adriano was still pointing a gun at the man.

“Na-my name is Patrizio,” replied the man stammered.

“Summit full mama!” pierre said quite loudly.

“Patrizio Cerci!” sahut the man was no less loud. “Listen, Amico. I don't want to get into trouble. I've long since resigned from the black world,”.

“We just wanted to ask you about something." Adriano's tone did not soften a little. “I hope you are willing to answer honestly.”

“Will I try,” said Patrizio nodded quickly.

“Do you know who killed Matteo de Luca?” ask Adriano without further ado.

“Then they asked the same thing many times. I still don't know the answer,” replied Patrizio so confidently.

“You must know that one of the weapons used to execute Matteo de Luca, is a special weapon commonly used among the American military,” Adriano fishing line.

“Yes. I know it.” Patrizio nodded quickly.

“Who can smuggle those guns into Italy?” Pierre asked.

“My organization is definitely not one of them, because we broke up many years ago. We don't smuggle military weapons anymore. And other organizations. Since Matteo de Luca resigned as clan chief, we have been unable to enter the military arms trade. They shut down his access,” explained Patrizio.

“They are who?” Adriano.

“Hand of Satan. That's nickname. No one knows what their real looks like. The hands of Satan are like demons. Invisible and very mysterious,” explains Patrizio.

“How do they close access?” asked Pierre, who was curious.

“They took over the trade and smuggling routes just like that. All wearing skull masks. They stormed the headquarters abruptly and crippled everyone like they were destroying a herd of ants. Since then, all organizations can no longer distribute military weapons,” explained Patrizio.

“Then, how did the killer bring the rifle to Italy? It is very unlikely if the weapon entered the country using magic,” Pierre quipped.

“It could have been the killer's personal weapon. He carries himself by sea, land, or perhaps even air. The gun owner disguises it by unloading the weapon and storing it in a special suitcase that can not be detected by metal detectors. That's in my opinion.” Patrizio ended his explanation while shrugging his shoulders.

“Is it possible if the Hand of Satan contributed to the death of Matteo?” ask Adriano again.

“If that's the case, then let it go. You will not be able to reveal the Hand of Satan. They're not a real mafia organization like us. They are not subject to any alliance. It's not Moriarty, it's another big organization. They're like white smoke you can see, but you can't touch!” patrizio.

“Since when are they present in Italy?” cecar Adriano was still curious.

“As I said earlier, since Matteo de Luca resigned from his position as clan chairman,” replied Patrizio confidently.

Adriano and Pierre looked at each other. Both of them felt that there was no more information that could be obtained from the man. Eventually, they decided to leave. Adriano and Pierre's destination this time was the Palace de Luca in Palermo.

After a few hours on the way, they finally arrived there. Marco welcomed warmly. "How are you, Mr D'Angelo?" greet the Klan de Luca leader, while greeting Adriano. He turned to Pierre. Marco, had noticed the Frenchman.

"This is Pierre Corbyn. He's my adjutant." Adriano introduced Pierre without being asked.

"Oh. How's Mr Corbyn doing? Welcome to the Palace de Luca, "welcome Marco who then immediately invites them to enter.

Adriano and Pierre follow him, until they arrive at Marco's den. "How about Mr D'Angelo? Did you get anything?" ask without talking.

"Do you know any information about the Hand of Satan?" ask Adriano calmly.

"We've tried to investigate, but the results are nil. They are like a fictitious group that is only raised as a distraction. The thing is, I've deployed all the trained men to find out about the group. However, not a single bit of information we get," explained Marco.

"That's impossible. Just a few ants still had nests, let alone such an organization. They must have had a background and a place to gather" Adriano argued.

"I think so too. However, it seemed like this group did not dwell in one place. I don't know, I also feel confused how they coordinate with each other" Marco said. "They move so neatly and unsecuredly. Just like a soldier lurking without his opponent knowing."