Chapter 5 - The Ambush at Dusk
The sun dipped beneath the Atlantic horizon the next afternoon, painting the Boston sky in streaks of bruised purple and violent crimson. Rain began to fall again, heavy and unrelenting, drumming against the roof of the armored black SUV that carried Luca and me toward the industrial harbor district.
Four black Suburbans traveled in convoy, filled with Luca’s most loyal soldiers. Under his suit jacket, Luca wore lightweight Kevlar armor, and a black semi-automatic pistol rested snugly in his shoulder holster. I sat beside him wearing a tailored dark wool coat that completely concealed my midsection. Luca had refused to leave me behind at the manor; he knew that if Dominic launched an attack, the manor would be the first target. The only place I was safe was by his side.
We turned into the sprawling complex of Pier 42—the nerve center of the Varenna shipping operations. Massive rusted cranes loomed against the dark sky like prehistoric monsters. The gravel road led toward Warehouse 9, where the High Council was scheduled to convene.
Suddenly, the lead SUV in our convoy exploded into a blinding fireball.
A deafening roar shattered the evening air. The shockwave slammed into our vehicle, shattering the side mirrors and jolting us violently against our seatbelts.
""Ambush!"" the driver screamed, slamming on the brakes as the burning wreckage of the first car blocked the narrow industrial corridor.
Automatic gunfire instantly erupted from the surrounding shipping containers. Bullets rained down on our armored vehicle like hail, pinging against the reinforced steel and cracking the thick glass windows into spiderwebs.
""Get down!"" Luca roared, throwing his entire body over mine, shielding my head and torso with his broad frame. His hands pushed me onto the floorboards beneath the leather seats. ""Stay down, Evelyn! Do not move!""
Luca kicked open his door, firing his pistol into the darkness with deadly, mechanical precision. Through the broken window, I heard men shouting in Italian, the staccato rhythm of machine guns, and the sickening thud of bodies hitting wet gravel.
""Boss! They’re Dominic’s mercenaries!"" our driver yelled, drawing his weapon before a spray of bullets shattered the windshield, killing him instantly.
Luca grabbed the driver’s assault rifle from the front seat. ""Mateo!"" he barked into his tactical radio. ""Status!""
""We intercepted Bennett, Boss!"" Mateo’s voice crackled through the static-filled radio. ""We are five minutes out from Pier 42! Hold your position!""
""Dominic tried to wipe us out before we even reached the warehouse,"" Luca snarled, pulling a fresh magazine from his belt and slapping it into the rifle. He looked down at me, his eyes blazing with ferocious determination. ""Evelyn, look at me.""
I looked up, my hands trembling as I clutched the carpeted floor of the SUV. ""Luca...""
""I am getting you into that warehouse,"" he promised fiercely, pressing a quick, fierce kiss to my lips. ""Trust me.""
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Before I could answer, Luca kicked the rear door completely off its damaged hinges. Moving with terrifying speed and lethal grace, he stepped out into the hail of gunfire, unleashing a devastating barrage against the snipers perched on the metal containers. One by one, Dominic's mercenaries dropped from the heights, crashing into the muddy puddles below.
Two of Luca's surviving soldiers rushed to form a protective wedge around us. Luca pulled me from the vehicle, wrapping one arm tightly around my waist, his rifle held steady in the other. Under the pouring rain and smoking debris, he dragged me across thirty yards of open gravel, gunning down two more attackers who charged from behind a forklift, until we slammed through the reinforced steel doors of Warehouse 9.
