Chapter 4 - Ambush at the Docks
The rain swept sideways across Pier 42, whipping the dark waters of the Hudson River into a frenzy. Giant rusted shipping containers towered over the asphalt like iron monoliths.
Adrian stood near the edge of the pier, wrapped in a black trench coat, watching three dark sedans pull up through the storm.
Carmine Falcone, an overweight man in his late sixties wearing a heavy fur-collared coat, stepped out of the lead vehicle. He was flanked by eight heavily armed enforcers carrying automatic weapons.
"Adrian," Carmine sneered, his yellowed teeth showing in a mockery of a smile. "You look lonely tonight. Where’s your loyal dog Salvatore? Usually he’s the one holding your leash."
"Salvatore is currently occupying a basement room at my estate," Adrian said smoothly, his hands buried in his coat pockets. "He won't be joining us, Carmine."
Carmine’s smile faltered slightly. "Is that so? Then I assume you know about our little arrangement. The access codes to your shipping lanes belong to me now, Moretti. Along with Catherine’s little secret ledger. Hand over the offshore accounts, or I send the files to the United States Attorney’s office within ten minutes."
Adrian pulled the green leather notebook from his coat. "You mean this ledger?"
Carmine’s eyes widened in shock. "How did you—"
"Salvatore was greedy, Carmine, but he was also stupid," Adrian said, stepping forward into the rain. "He thought he could play both sides. He didn't realize that I’ve controlled the federal prosecutor’s office in this district for five years. They don't work for the law, Carmine. They work for me."
Before Carmine could react, dark figures emerged from the shadows of the shipping containers behind him. Dominic and twenty elite Moretti tactical operators stepped into the light, their rifles aimed directly at the Falcone crew.
"You're surrounded, Carmine," Adrian said coldly. "Your men drop their weapons, or you feed the fish in the Hudson tonight."
Carmine looked around frantically, realizing he had walked directly into a slaughterhouse. "Wait! Adrian! We can make a deal! Salvatore told me your mother’s death was an accident! I had nothing to do with Catherine!"
"I know you didn't," Adrian said. "If you had, we wouldn't be talking."
Carmine’s men slowly lowered their weapons, dropping them onto the wet asphalt. Dominic’s team moved in fast, disarming them and forcing them to their knees.
Adrian walked right up to Carmine, grabbing the older man by his lapels. "You are going to surrender all Falcone territory north of 42nd Street to me by sunrise. You are going to sign over your dock shares. And if I ever see your face in Westchester again, I won't send you to prison. I’ll send you to join Salvatore."
Carmine, pale and trembling, nodded frantically. "Done! It’s done, Adrian! Just let us walk!"
"Get out of my sight," Adrian growled, shoving him back.
As Carmine’s crew scrambled back into their cars and tore away into the storm, Dominic walked up beside Adrian.
"What do we do with Salvatore, boss?"
Adrian looked down at the green leather diary in his hand, feeling the rain wash over the gold-embossed cover.
"Salvatore wants to talk to the feds," Adrian said softly. "So give him to them. Put him in a car, drop him in front of the FBI headquarters in Manhattan with a full confession of his murders and embezzlement. Let him spend the rest of his miserable life in a maximum-security cell thinking about what he stole from me."
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"Understood," Dominic said. "And the maid? Elena?"
Adrian looked up at the stormy sky, a sudden sense of warmth breaking through the freezing rain in his chest. "She saved my life tonight, Dominic. It's time I gave her a real one."
