Chapter 7 - Thunder Over Sector Four
The abandoned meatpacking plant loomed against the stormy sky like a decaying concrete monolith. Rusting corrugated iron walls rattled in the wind, and broken windows gaped like empty eye sockets.
Outside, four armed Santoro guards stood beneath a flickering security light, smoking cigarettes and laughing over the rain.
They never heard the Moretti enforcers approach.
Like ghosts in the dark, three tactical operatives materialized behind them. A flurry of muffled thuds, the sharp snap of necks, and the guards slumped silently into the muddy puddles without firing a single shot.
Alessandro stepped out of the lead SUV, his long black trench coat billowing behind him in the wind. Behind him, fifty elite enforcers fanned out, moving with terrifying, synchronized precision toward the main loading bay doors.
"Marco, take the rear exit. No one leaves alive," Alessandro ordered quietly.
"Understood, boss."
Alessandro raised his Sig Sauer, kicked the heavy steel side door open with a deafening crash, and strode into the dark, echoing interior of the plant.
Red emergency lights flickered overhead, casting a bloody hue over rows of empty meat hooks hanging from the ceiling.
"Well, well, well," a voice echoed from the upper catwalks.
Alessandro looked up. Standing on the rusted metal walkway was one of Santoro’s top capos, holding a heavy submachine gun, with two more guards flanking him.
"You walked right into our—"
Bang.
Before the capo could finish his sentence, Alessandro fired. The bullet caught him squarely in the chest, sending him crashing backward over the railing to hit the concrete floor below with a sickening thud.
The remaining two guards opened fire, a hail of lead chewing up the concrete around Alessandro. But Alessandro moved with preternatural speed, sliding behind a heavy steel pillar and returning fire with lethal, pinpoint accuracy. Two quick shots. Two bodies hit the floor.
"Clear!" Marco’s voice echoed from the back stairwell.
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"Where is she?" Alessandro demanded, his heart hammering against his ribs for the first time in years.
"Basement level," Marco said, jogging up. "Reinforced security door. I brought the thermal breaching charges."
