Chapter 15 - The Siege of the Brooklyn Yard
The Brooklyn Navy Yard was shrouded in a thick morning fog drifting off the East River. Moored at Pier 4 was The Empress, a one-hundred-and-fifty-foot luxury mega-yacht flying a Panamanian flag.
Inside the yacht’s opulent main saloon, draped in white silk and gold leaf, Contessa Sofia Rosselini sat on a plush velvet sofa, sipping espresso from a delicate porcelain cup. She was an impeccably preserved woman whose beauty was ruined only by the extreme coldness of her dark eyes.
Standing before her was her chief security officer, looking pale and sweating profusely.
"What do you mean they failed?!" Sofia hissed, slamming her teacup down so hard the saucer cracked. "Gabriel Moretti was supposed to be dead, and the girl was supposed to be brought to me with the pendant!"
"Madame... Moretti’s security was far beyond what our intelligence indicated," the officer stammered. "He had tactical teams inside the house. Our team was wiped out, and the federal authorities have locked down the entire New York tri-state area!"
Sofia stood up, her dark eyes flashing with manic fury. "Then we leave now! Cast off the lines! We head into international waters immediately!"
"I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere, Contessa."
A deep, smooth voice echoed through the saloon’s sound system.
Sofia froze. She turned toward the grand companionway stairs leading to the upper deck.
Gabriel Moretti stepped down the stairs, flanked by eight FBI Hostile Rescue Team operators wearing full tactical gear, their submachine guns raised and laser sights pointed directly at her chest. Behind them came Agent Drake and Detective Mendez.
Sofia gasped, stepping back against her silk velvet sofa, her hands trembling. "Gabriel..."
"Hello, Sofia," Gabriel said calmly, stepping forward into the center of the room. He wore no helmet, no tactical mask—just his dark vest over his clothes, his hands clasped casually behind his back. "You look remarkably healthy for a woman who was granted an emergency medical release."
"How... how did you find me?!" Sofia snarled, trying desperately to maintain her aristocratic composure.
"You spent twenty years thinking my father was a foolish man, Sofia," Gabriel said softly, taking a step closer. "You thought he built his empire on violence. You forgot that Carmine Moretti was a master strategist. He knew you were a traitor the day you made your deal with the Syndicate."
Sofia’s eyes narrowed into dark slits. "If he knew, why didn't he kill me?!"
"Because he knew a creature like you would eventually trap yourself," Gabriel answered, his voice ringing with absolute authority. "Every bank account you owned in Switzerland, Liechtenstein, and the Caymans has just been seized by federal authorities. Every mercenary you hired has been identified. You aren't a Contessa anymore, Sofia. You're a penniless fugitive who is going to spend the rest of her natural life in a maximum-security federal facility in West Virginia."
Sofia’s face contorted with rage. She reached into her silk jacket, pulling out a small pearl-handled derringer pistol aimed directly at Gabriel’s heart!
"I will take you to hell with me!" she screamed.
BANG!
A single shot rang out through the saloon.
Sofia gasped, dropping the small pistol as her arm went limp. Agent Drake stood nearby, her service weapon smoking, having shot the gun straight out of Sofia’s hand with surgical precision.
Two FBI agents rushed forward, slamming Sofia down onto the velvet sofa and forcing her hands behind her back, locking heavy steel handcuffs onto her wrists.
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Gabriel looked down at the defeated woman, his face calm, unbothered, and completely free of malice.
"Take her away," Gabriel said softly. "The Moretti family is finished with her."
