Chapter 5 - The Siege of Cold Spring
The lower courtyard of the Vitale estate had become an absolute war zone.
Muzzle flashes illuminated the torrential rain as twenty Bellandi mercenaries attempted to push through the heavy iron doors leading to the subterranean wine cellar. Tracers cut through the darkness, shattering the glass of the greenhouse and tearing through the manicured hedges.
Enzo Rinaldi and six Vitale loyalists were dug in behind the stone balustrade, returning heavy fire with assault rifles, keeping the mercenaries from placing the breaching charges against the vault doors.
"Hold the line!" Enzo bellowed, ducking as a burst of automatic fire chipped the stone inches above his head. "Do not let them reach those doors!"
Suddenly, from the high balcony of the second-floor terrace, a heavy fifty-caliber automated turret—activated by Marco from the central security hub—swung into position.
THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!
The heavy rounds tore through the mercenaries' armored vehicles, exploding fuel tanks and sending a massive wall of fire shooting fifty feet into the night sky.
In the confusion, Damiano descended from the side emergency staircase like an vengeful spirit. Moving through the dense smoke and rain, he neutralized four Bellandi gunners with devastating speed, his handguns barking through the roar of the storm.
Within ten minutes, the courtyard fell silent.
The remaining Bellandi mercenaries lay disarmed or dead in the wet mud. The burning wreckage of their SUVs cast a flickering orange glow over the ancient oak tree where, just hours earlier, a little girl had fallen asleep on Damiano’s chest.
Damiano stood in the center of the courtyard, his chest heaving, his face covered in rain and soot.
Enzo ran up to him, his rifle held low, his shoulder bleeding from a superficial graze. "The estate is secure, Don Vitale! All perimeter breaches have been contained. Marco says the outer roads are blocked by our secondary security teams."
Damiano wiped the blood from his cheek. "And Renato?"
May you like
"Rocco has him bound in the basement holding cells," Enzo growled. "He's not going anywhere."
Damiano nodded slowly. He reholstered his weapon, turned away from the destruction in the courtyard, and walked toward the heavy steel doors of the wine cellar.
