Chapter 10 - Blood in the Darkroom
The Commission of the Five Families did not meet in a dark alley or a smoky backroom. They met in the private boardroom on the top floor of a historic financial institution on Wall Street—a place where billions were moved with the stroke of a pen and death sentences were ratified over single-malt scotch.
At 11:45 PM, a sudden perimeter breach alarm shrieked through the Queens safehouse.
“Boss!” Marco yelled, racking the slide of an assault rifle. “Tactical team on the south stairwell! Gian’s hit squad—they tracked Lorenzo’s phone ping before we scrambled the frequencies!”
Heavy boots pounded against the concrete corridors outside. Smoke grenades hissed, filling the hallway with blinding white gas.
“They’re trying to destroy the drive before we reach Wall Street,” Victor said instantly, drawing dual handguns. “Adriana! In the darkroom vault! Lock the secondary hatch!”
“I have the master drive!” Adriana shouted, sliding the waterproof encrypted hard drive into her tactical vest.
The heavy steel door of the bunker was blasted open with high-explosive breaching cord.
BOOM!
Shockwaves rattled the room. Three masked mercenaries in black tactical gear burst through the smoke, weapons raised.
Victor moved with terrifying speed and precision. He fired three rapid double-taps. Two mercenaries dropped instantly before they could clear their muzzles. The third lunged forward, tackling Victor to the ground, knocking his weapons across the concrete.
Adriana, caught inside the chemical darkroom alcove, saw the struggle through the reinforced glass window. A fourth mercenary entered the room, his rifle trained directly on Victor, who was wrestling the other attacker on the floor.
There was no time to think.
Adriana grabbed a large glass jug of industrial photographic stop-bath acid from the shelf, kicked the darkroom door open, and hurled the concentrated chemical straight into the mercenary’s faceplate.
The acid seeped into the visor seals, blinding and burning the shooter. He screamed, stumbling backward and firing wildly into the ceiling.
Victor seized the opening. He overpowered his assailant with a brutal neck snap, rolled to his feet, swept up his fallen pistol, and eliminated the blinded mercenary with a single shot to the chest.
Silence crashed back into the bunker, broken only by the hiss of ventilation fans clearing the smoke.
Marco emerged from the stairwell, panting, with blood dripping from a cut on his temple. “South exit is clear. Limousine is idling in the underground freight elevator.”
Victor stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned and looked at Adriana, who was holding an empty glass jug, her hands covered in chemical residue and her eyes wide with shock.
Victor walked over, took the heavy jug from her trembling fingers, and set it on the counter. Then, without a word, he pulled her tightly against his chest, burying his face in her hair.
“You saved my life,” he whispered against her ear.
May you like
Adriana wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. “Occupational hazard. I told you... I look at things closely.”
Victor pulled back, his eyes burning with lethal certainty. “Let’s go see the Commission.”
