Chapter 8 - The Railyard Ambush
I did not wait for Salieri to make his move. In the world of power, waiting is a death sentence.
At midnight, a convoy of five black armored SUVs rolled silently into the desolate railyard on the south side of Chicago. The night air was thick with fog rising from the nearby river, wrapping around the rusted train cars and broken warehouses like a shroud.
Inside the lead vehicle, I checked the action on my custom assault rifle. Beside me sat Viktor, along with six of my most trusted enforcers.
"Thermal imaging shows twenty-five heat signatures inside Warehouse 4," Viktor reported, looking at a tactical tablet. "Marcus and Salieri are both inside. They are arming heavy weapons."
"We move now," I commanded. "No survivors for Salieri’s inner circle. I want this threat eliminated tonight."
We stepped out into the damp night air, moving in tight tactical formation through the maze of rusted train cars. The fog provided excellent cover, allowing us to bypass the exterior lookouts silently before reaching the heavy corrugated steel doors of Warehouse 4.
Viktor placed a breaching charge on the door mechanism.
3... 2... 1...
BOOM!
The steel doors blew inward with a thunderous roar. My team flooded the warehouse behind a barrage of flashbangs and smoke canisters.
Automatic gunfire instantly tore through the air as Salieri’s mercenaries returned fire from behind wooden crates and steel shipping containers. Sparks flew from the concrete walls as high-caliber rounds ricocheted through the space.
I moved behind a steel support pillar, firing precise bursts from my rifle, dropping two mercenaries who were trying to flank our position. Viktor pushed forward on the left, his heavy weapon driving the defenders back into the center of the room.
Through the dense tactical smoke, I saw Salieri—older, grayer, but eyes burning with hatred—standing on a raised metal gantry above the warehouse floor, shouting orders to his men. Beside him stood Marcus, wearing a tactical vest, clutching a submachine gun with his left hand while his right shoulder remained partially stiff from his old injury.
"Vincent!" Salieri’s voice boomed over the gunfire through a loudspeaker. "You thought you could build an empire on legal contracts and charity? You forgot what we are! We are monsters, Vincent! And monsters don't retire!"
Salieri pulled a remote detonator from his pocket.
"I didn't come here just to fight your men!" Salieri laughed hysterically. "Marcus told me about your new foundation building in downtown Chicago! The building where your precious little ward and her mother spend their afternoons!"
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My heart stopped. My blood ran cold.
"I placed three industrial charges in the basement of the Romano Foundation building an hour ago!" Salieri screamed over the noise of battle. "If I press this button, your legacy, your charity, and that little girl turn to ash!"
