Chapter 8 - The Ghost of Blue Island
The old industrial train yard in Blue Island was a desolate wasteland of rusted iron, overgrown weeds, and abandoned shipping containers. A thick fog rolled off the nearby canal, swallowing the moonlight and reducing visibility to less than twenty feet.
Clara stood in the center of the clearing, wearing her cream wool coat, her left arm still supported by a hidden brace beneath the fabric. In her hand, she held a dead phone.
A set of headlights cut through the fog. A silver sedan rolled forward, stopping ten yards away from her. Leo Valenti stepped out of the driver's seat, a heavy silver pistol in his right hand. Two other men stepped out from the rear, dragging Lily, whose hands were bound with zip ties, her mouth covered in silver duct tape.
"Look at you," Leo sneered, walking toward Clara. "The Angel of Chicago. You really thought you could play in our world and not get burned?"
"I’m here, Leo," Clara said, her voice steady despite the trembling in her knees. "Let my sister go. She has nothing to do with this."
"She had nothing to do with it until you decided to become a hero," Leo laughed, raising his gun toward Clara’s head. "Papa wants you dead, Clara. He wants Marco to watch his little savior rot in a ditch."
"Then you should have checked the sky, Leo," Clara said softly.
Before Leo could pull the trigger, a red laser dot appeared on the center of his forehead. Then another appeared on his chest. Within three seconds, forty red dots danced across the bodies of the three Valenti men, painting them like targets in a shooting gallery.
From the shadows of the shipping containers, the darkness came alive.
Marco Leone stepped forward, flanked by thirty men in tactical gear, their assault rifles raised. Santino was positioned on a nearby crane, his sniper rifle locked onto Leo’s skull.
"Drop the weapons," Marco commanded, his voice echoing through the steel yard like thunder. "Or my men will turn this yard into a graveyard before you can blink."
Leo’s face turned the color of the fog. He looked around, realizing he was completely surrounded, outgunned, and outmaneuvered. His two henchmen dropped their pistols immediately, raising their hands in the air.
"Leone..." Leo stammered, dropping his gun into the gravel. "You... you can't kill us. The feds are watching."
"The feds don't look into the dark, Leo," Marco said, walking up to him and delivering a brutal blow with the butt of his pistol that sent Leo crashing to the ground.
Santino rushed forward, cutting Lily’s bonds with a combat knife. Clara ran to her sister, pulling her into a fierce, sobbing embrace. "I’ve got you, Lily. You're safe. You're safe."
Marco looked down at Leo, his face expressionless. "Tell your father that his empire is dead. I’ve bought every one of his union delegates, every one of his port captains, and every one of his judges. He has nothing left but an empty penthouse and a coffin."
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He turned to his men. "Secure the area. Leave them for Agent Vance. Let the government clean up the scraps."
As Marco walked back toward his SUV, he looked at Clara, who was holding her sister tightly. The relief in her eyes was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He held out his hand, and for the first time, Clara took it, her fingers intertwining with his as they left the ghosts of Blue Island behind.
