Chapter 12 - TURNING THE TABLES IN A HEARTBEAT
Salatore tightened his grip on the shotgun trigger.
“Any last words, Matteo?”
“Yeah,” Matteo said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
“Sal... did you check the duffel bag?”
Sal frowned, his eyes darting toward the canvas bag lying open on the floor.
“What are you talking about?”
“The bag you gave me at the bar,” Matteo smiled faintly.
“Did you check the serial numbers?”
Sal’s face drained of color in an instant.
“You... you son of a bitch.”
“Federal tracking beacons,” Lena finished the sentence, pulling a small remote detonator from her pocket.
“Every gun in that bag is wired to the ATF.”
Before Sal could pull the trigger, sirens began wailing outside the Grand Hotel.
Dozens of federal police cars swarmed the perimeter below.
Flashbangs detonated on the lower floors.
“You set me up!” Sal screamed at Dante, turning his shotgun toward the crime boss.
“Shut up, you fool!” Dante shouted.
Sal fired!
Buckshot shredded the wall beside Dante’s head.
May you like
Dante fired back twice.
Sal slumped against the doorframe, dropping his weapon, blood pooling across the expensive Persian rug.
