Chapter 5 - THE BATTLE OF BROOKLYN
The rain beat violently against the rusted corrugated metal roof of the abandoned Brooklyn grain terminal.
Located at the edge of the dark, freezing waters of the East River, the sprawling industrial complex was completely cut off from the rest of the city. Inside the main hangar, three black armored vans were parked under heavy industrial lights.
Forty mercenaries dressed in dark tactical gear stood watch along the high steel walkways, their automatic rifles pointed toward the perimeter gates.
In the center of the floor, standing beside a heavy steel table covered in satellite radios and maps, was Hector Reyes.
At thirty-eight, Hector was a broad, brutal man with a scar running across his nose and cold, sociopathic brown eyes. He held a cigar between his teeth, pacing back and forth impatiently as he checked his gold watch.
"Where the hell is Dominic?" Hector barked at his chief lieutenant, a broad Eastern European mercenary named Ivan. "He was supposed to be here twenty minutes ago with the confirmation!"
"The phone signal went dead twenty minutes ago, boss," Ivan replied tense, his hand resting on his submachine gun. "Something feels wrong. We should pull back to the safe house in Staten Island."
"We aren't pulling back anywhere!" Hector roared, slamming his fist onto the steel table. "I spent three years tracking Sophia! She's sitting in the Moretti mansion right now with my daughter! I am not leaving New York until I burn that house down and bring them back to Chicago!"
BOOM!
A deafening, thunderous explosion shattered the heavy steel doors of the hangar.
The blast wave threw five mercenaries off the steel walkways, sending them crashing twenty feet down onto the concrete floor.
Before the smoke could even clear, three heavy armored Moretti tactical vehicles smashed through the ruined entrance, their high-intensity halogen searchlights blinding everyone inside the dark hangar.
"FIRE! KILL THEM ALL!" Hector shrieked, diving behind a steel container.
The hangar erupted into absolute, terrifying chaos.
Tracer bullets cut through the heavy smoke in bright red flashes. The deafening roar of automatic gunfire, shattered glass, and screaming mercenaries echoed off the high metal roof.
From the roof skylights, twenty elite Moretti tactical operators descended on steel cables, firing silenced rifles with robotic, lethal precision as they touched down on the upper gantries.
Leading the ground team through the front smoke was Alessandro Moretti.
He looked like an unstoppable god of war. Dressed in full dark tactical armor, holding a heavy assault shotgun in his bare hands, he moved through the gunfire with absolute, terrifying confidence. Every shell he racked ejected a glowing red casing, dropping Hector's mercenaries instantly.
"REYES!" Alessandro’s voice thundered over the sound of explosions, booming through the warehouse like a judgment from hell.
Hector, cowering behind a heavy forklift, felt a cold, paralyzing terror grip his chest. He grabbed a submachine gun from a fallen mercenary, firing wildly around the corner of the forklift.
BOOM!
Alessandro shot the forklift tire, blowing the heavy rubber apart, forcing Hector to stumble backward onto his hands and knees.
Before Hector could raise his gun, Alessandro stepped out of the smoke, his heavy combat boot slamming violently down onto Hector's wrist.
CRACK!
"AAAAAH!" Hector shrieked in agony as the bones in his wrist shattered under Alessandro's massive weight, the submachine gun sliding uselessly across the wet concrete.
Alessandro reached down with his left hand, grabbing Hector by his leather jacket collar, and slammed him against the side of an iron shipping container with force that rattled the entire frame.
Hector gasped for air, blood leaking from his mouth, looking up into the cold, obsidian eyes of the Don of New York.
"You... you can't kill me..." Hector choked out, trying to spit blood onto Alessandro's armor. "Sophia is my wife! Lily is my blood!"
Alessandro leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a low, lethal whisper that sent Hector's soul straight into the abyss.
"Sophia was never yours," Alessandro said softly. "She was a lioness waiting for a king. And Lily is my daughter now."
Alessandro drew his silver Beretta from his thigh holster, pressing the cold steel barrel directly against the center of Hector's forehead.
"This is for every bruise you gave her," Alessandro whispered. "And for every tear she cried."
BANG!
A single gunshot ended the war forever.
Alessandro slowly lowered his weapon, blowing a small, wispy cloud of blue smoke from the barrel. He stepped back as Hector's body collapsed limply onto the wet concrete floor.
Around them, the gunfire died down completely. Marco and thirty Moretti soldiers secured the remaining area, taking the surviving Chicago mercenaries into custody.
Marco walked up to Alessandro, handing him a clean white linen towel.
"The complex is secure, Don Alessandro," Marco reported smoothly. "The Reyes syndicate in Chicago has been completely dismantled by our northern allies."
Alessandro wiped the blood spatters from his hands, tossing the towel onto Hector's body. He turned around, looking toward the open doors of the hangar where the rain was beginning to stop, revealing the bright, golden light of the dawn breaking over the East River.
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He took a deep, clear breath, a breathtaking smile finally breaking across his handsome face.
"Call Sophia," Alessandro ordered, his voice rich with warmth. "Tell her the sun is coming up."
