Chapter 7 - THE AMBUSH AT THE RAIL YARD
The old rail yard was a derelict wasteland of rusted boxcars, overgrown weeds, and rotting timber beams. Rain was beginning to fall again, turning the dirt tracks into thick brown mud.
Inside a rusted three-story control tower overlooking the tracks, Julian Vance stood near a broken glass window, adjusting a high-powered tactical sniper rifle on a tripod.
Vance was fifty-five, with wild silver hair, a scar running down his left jawline, and eyes full of desperate rage.
“Is the team in position?” Vance yelled over the sound of rain beating against the corrugated iron roof.
“Yes, sir,” his lead mercenary replied, checking an electronic radio. “Team Alpha is monitoring the Duca estate’s front gate. The moment Lorenzo’s car leaves, we detonate the road charges.”
“Good,” Vance sneered, adjusting his rifle scope. “Lorenzo thinks he’s safe because he ruined the Chens. I’m going to put a bullet through his heart, then I’m going to take his estate and burn it to the ground.”
BOOM!
A thunderous explosion rocked the base of the control tower.
Dust and concrete rained down from the ceiling as electrical sparks showered across the room.
“What was that?!” Vance screamed, grabbing his sidearm.
Before his mercenaries could react, the steel door of the tower was kicked off its hinges with terrifying force.
THUD!
The door flew across the room, crushing one mercenary against the wall.
Through the smoke and dust stepped Lorenzo Duca.
He was wearing a dark tactical coat, carrying a high-caliber shotgun in his right hand. Behind him were Daniel, Arthur, and eight heavily armed Duca enforcers.
“Looking for me, Vance?” Lorenzo’s voice cut through the smoke like a razor.
“FIRE!” Vance shrieked, diving behind a steel desk.
Gunfire erupted inside the cramped concrete tower. Muzzle flashes illuminated the dark room like strobing lightning.
Lorenzo moved with lethal, practiced precision. He fired two heavy shotgun rounds, blowing through a wooden barricade and taking out two mercenaries instantly. Arthur and Silas provided suppressive fire, tactical smoke grenades filling the room with thick white fog.
Within ninety seconds, Vance’s six high-priced European mercenaries were dead or disarmed on the floor.
Vance scrambled backward toward the rear fire escape, bleeding from a shrapnel wound on his arm, clutching his pistol with trembling hands.
He kicked open the door to the steel staircase, preparing to jump to the lower train cars.
A heavy boot slammed into his chest.
CRACK!
Vance flew backward onto the metal floor, gasping for air as his pistol clattered out of his hand and fell three stories down into the mud below.
Lorenzo stepped out onto the steel staircase landing. The rain drenched his dark coat and hair, but his eyes were burning green ice.
He lifted his heavy shotgun, pointing the barrel directly between Julian Vance’s eyes.
“Lorenzo... wait!” Vance whimpered, raising his bloody hands in desperate surrender. “Wait! We can make a deal! I have fifty million in gold in Zurich! It’s yours! Just let me walk!”
Lorenzo looked down at the pathetic man cowering at his feet.
“Six months ago, I might have listened to your deal, Vance,” Lorenzo said, his voice cold and steady against the sound of the falling rain. “Six months ago, I was a man living in darkness.”
He clicked the shotgun’s safety off with a sharp CLICK.
“But my son is healthy,” Lorenzo continued. “My home is full of light. And I will never allow a rat like you to threaten my family ever again.”
“No—!” Vance shrieked.
BOOM!
The shot echoed across the empty rail yard, swallowed by the sound of the thunder above.
May you like
Lorenzo lowered his weapon. He didn't look down at the body. He turned on his heel and walked back down the stairs toward his waiting black SUV.
“Daniel,” Lorenzo said, getting into the back seat. “Clean up the yard. I have a dinner to attend at home.”
