Chapter 5 - The Wrath of the Lion
The forest was a maze of dark trunks, cold rain, and blinding muzzle flashes. I moved through the underbrush like a shadow, using the terrain I had hunted on as a boy.
Valetti’s mercenaries were scattered, distracted by the burning vehicle and the sudden fire consuming the cottage. They thought I was trapped inside the burning building.
I came up behind the first shooter—a large man carrying a modified submachine gun—and eliminated him silently before taking his tactical vest and secondary magazines.
Ten yards away, Sal Valetti stood near the rear of his remaining armored sedan, surrounded by four bodyguards. He was shouting into a radio, panicked as the flames from the cottage lit up the entire clearing.
"Find him!" Valetti screamed. "He couldn't have survived that blast! Search the perimeter!"
"Looking for me, Sal?" I spoke from the shadows twenty feet behind him.
Valetti spun around, his mouth open in disbelief as I stepped out from behind a massive white pine, my weapon raised. His guards tried to bring their rifles up, but I fired four precise shots, taking down two of his men before they could clear their slings.
The remaining two guards scrambled for cover behind the sedan, leaving Valetti standing alone in the center of the muddy path.
"Adrian... wait!" Valetti stammered, raising his hands, his face pale under the orange glow of the burning cottage. "It was Dante’s idea! He came to me five years ago! He said you were weak, that you were going to sell out the shipping routes!"
"You put poison in my son's body, Sal," I said, walking toward him with slow, deliberate steps, ignoring the rain streaming down my face. "You made a nine-year-old boy sit in a wheelchair for four years because you were greedy."
"I can give you the North Side!" Valetti pleaded, backing up until his boots hit the bumper of his car. "Everything! Millions, Adrian! Just let me walk away!"
"My wife died because of your greed," I said softly.
Before Valetti could pull a backup pistol from his coat, the roar of twin helicopter rotors shattered the night sky overhead. A massive black tactical chopper dropped low over the tree line, its high-powered searchlights blinding the clearing in brilliant white light.
"VALENTI TACTICAL! DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" a loudspeaker thundered from above.
Ropes dropped from the helicopter, and six heavily armed men in dark tactical gear slid down into the clearing with military precision. At their head was my brother, Marcus, carrying a heavy assault weapon.
Marcus walked straight up to Valetti, struck him across the face with the butt of his rifle, knocking him face-first into the mud, then turned his dark eyes onto me.
"You look like hell, Adrian," Marcus said, his voice rough.
May you like
"The cottage is burning," I pointed toward the structure, my voice breaking for the first time tonight. "Ethan and the girls are in the cellar! Get them out!"
Marcus didn't hesitate. "Team two, move to the structure! Clear the floor and open the root cellar! NOW!"
