Chapter 3 - Blood on the Marble
BANG!
A blinding flash of white light and a deafening shockwave erupted through the grand foyer. Even with my eyes closed behind the banister, the brilliance pierced the darkness.
Screams of disorientation echoed from below. The night-vision goggles worn by Marcus’s men amplified the light tenfold, instantly burning out their vision and causing intense agony.
I leaped over the banister, dropping twelve feet down into the foyer, landing lightly on the ball of my feet.
Before the second mercenary could recover his sight, I raised my Kimber .45 and fired two rapid shots into his chest armor, followed by a third precise shot beneath his helmet. He dropped like a sack of stones.
Marcus, staggering backward with his hands over his streaming eyes, fired wildly into the dark. Bullets splintered the mahogany paneling behind me and shattered an antique vase, sending glass raining onto the floor.
"Romano!" Marcus shrieked, his voice laced with panic and pain as he scrambled toward the heavy front doors. "You were supposed to be in New York!"
"You relied on bad information, Marcus," I said, my voice echoing through the ruined foyer as I walked toward him with measured, deliberate steps.
I didn't rush. The thrill of the hunt was gone, replaced only by the cold necessity of executing a traitor.
Out of the west corridor, the remaining two mercenaries came running, their hearing partially restored, aiming their weapons toward the sound of my voice. But before they could clear the archway, the heavy oak front doors of the mansion were blown inward with a explosive breaching charge.
Wooden splinters rained down as Viktor and eight heavily armed Romano enforcers flooded into the room like an unstoppable tide. Flashlights cut through the smoke, illuminating the hall in harsh white beams.
"Drop your weapons!" Viktor roared, his voice like thunder.
The two mercenaries realized they were completely outmatched. They dropped their rifles, raising their hands in immediate surrender.
Marcus, however, backed up against the ruined doorway, his chest heaving, his face covered in sweat and tear streaks from the flashbang. He raised his pistol toward my face with a trembling hand.
"You think you've won, Vincent?" Marcus sneered, blood dripping from his nose. "You're just a dinosaur waiting for the meteorite! The world is changing! Big money is moving into Chicago, and they offered me more than you ever could!"
"Who paid you, Marcus?" I asked, standing ten feet from him, my gun lowered at my side. "Was it the Valetti family? Or someone from the East Coast?"
Marcus let out a hysterical laugh. "Find out yourself!"
He swung his gun toward my head.
I raised my pistol and fired once.
The heavy bullet struck Marcus square in his right shoulder, shattering the bone and sending his weapon flying across the marble floor. He slammed hard against the wall, collapsing into a sitting position, clutching his ruined arm and groaning in agony.
Viktor stepped forward, stepping heavily on Marcus's uninjured wrist to pin him to the floor, while two guards handcuffed the remaining mercenaries.
"Keep him alive," I ordered Viktor, my eyes cold as ice. "I want to know every name, every bank account, and every asset involved in this hit before sunrise. Take him to the basement in the city facility."
"Understood, Boss," Viktor said, bowing his head sharply. He looked around at the destroyed foyer, then at me. "Are you injured, Don Romano?"
"I am fine," I replied, wiping a smudge of soot from my cuff. "Restore the primary power grid, clear these bodies, and get a medical team up here immediately."
May you like
"A medical team?" Viktor asked, surprised. "Are you sure you aren't hit?"
"The team isn't for me," I said, turning back toward the service hallway. "It's for the housekeeper. And prepare the master suite on the second floor. She and her daughter will be staying there from now on."
