Chapter 6 - The Midnight Raid
By 2:00 AM, the cold drizzle had turned into a torrential downpour, washing over the industrial docks of the southern waterfront.
Pier 44 was shrouded in dense fog.
Three massive cargo ships were moored along the concrete berths, their cranes hanging motionless against the black night sky. Inside the central freight distribution warehouse, forty armed men loyal to Salvatore Viscari were loading wooden crates of unregistered automatic weapons into delivery trucks.
Salvatore Viscari stood on an elevated catwalk above the warehouse floor, wearing a heavy trench coat and smoking an imported cigar.
He checked his gold pocket watch, frowning into the shadows below.
"Where is Sloan?" Salvatore demanded, turning to his top enforcer. "He was supposed to confirm the hit on the Romano boy five hours ago."
"His phone is dead, boss," the enforcer replied nervously. "And Anthony Romano isn't answering his private line either."
Salvatore’s eyes narrowed, a cold knot of dread tightening in the pit of his stomach.
Suddenly, the high-intensity halogen floodlights illuminating the warehouse flickered twice and died, plunging the entire five-acre terminal into pitch-black darkness.
"Kill the main breaker!" Salvatore shouted, reaching inside his coat for his pistol. "Defensive positions!"
Before his men could raise their weapons, the reinforced fiberglass skylights across the entire warehouse roof shattered with a deafening roar.
Dozens of flashbang grenades detonated in mid-air, bathing the dark interior in blinding white light and concussive thunder that brought Salvatore’s men to their knees, clutching their bleeding ears.
Through the shattered roof, tactical operatives in black Kevlar descended on fast-ropes, opening fire with suppressed carbines with surgical, ruthless precision.
Down on the ground, the massive steel roll-up doors were obliterated as two armored tactical trucks rammed through the perimeter, breaching the warehouse in seconds.
Vincent Romano stepped through the smoke and splintered metal, carrying an assault rifle, flanked by Marcus and thirty heavily armed soldiers.
"Salvatore!" Vincent's voice boomed through the ringing warehouse, cutting through the gunfire like a judgment from heaven. "Step down from the catwalk, or this building becomes your tomb!"
May you like
Viscari’s enforcers threw their weapons to the floor in terror, completely overwhelmed by the speed and ferocity of the ambush.
Salvatore backed toward the catwalk stairs, his face twisted in horror as he realized his empire had fallen in less than ninety seconds.
