Chapter 5 - Blood on the Docks
The storm provided perfect cover. Rain pounded the metal roofs of the terminal like heavy machine-gun fire as Aleandro’s men moved through the perimeter shadows.
Dominic dropped the outer sentry with a silenced shot before the man could raise his radio. Aleandro stepped over the falling body without breaking stride, his eyes fixed on the illuminated office structure hanging over the central warehouse floor.
Inside, the air smelled of salt, old engine grease, and metallic rust. Silenced gunshots echoed softly against the high steel girders as Moretti enforcers cleared the lower catwalks, dropping Malikov’s guards one by one with surgical precision.
Aleandro ascended the iron staircase leading to the upper office. Through the cracked glass window of the control booth, he saw her.
Isabella was tied to a reinforced steel support beam. Her silk evening dress was torn at the shoulder, her dark hair tangled and damp with sweat. Her lip was split, and dark purple bruising had already begun to blossom along her collarbone. Strapped across her waist was a heavy black vest fitted with digital timers and glowing red wire leads.
Standing in front of her were four heavily armed mercenaries—and Viktor Malikov himself, holding a detonator switch in his gloved hand.
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Aleandro didn't wait for his men to clear the door. He kicked the heavy steel frame off its hinges with a deafening crash.
Before the guards could pivot their rifles, Aleandro fired three rounds in rapid succession. The heavy .45 hollow-points tore through the body armor of the two closest guards, dropping them instantly to the concrete floor.
