Chapter 5 - A Snake in the Family Viper
As the twin engines of the customized Black Hawk roared to life on the skyscraper's rooftop helipad, Dante handed me a satellite dossier of the Adirondack compound. The property was disguised as an elite hunting lodge, nestled deep within five hundred acres of private pine forest near Lake Placid.
""Boss, there's another complication,"" Dante shouted over the deafening whine of the helicopter blades as we lifted into the night sky, New York's glittering skyline shrinking below us.
""Speak!"" I shouted back, buckling my tactical harness over my body armor.
""Vincent wasn't working alone. We traced the offshore funding for the compound's mercenary team. The funds didn't originate from Vincent’s accounts. They came through an account registered to Don Salieri.""
The name hit like an iron club. Salieri was the oldest Don on the Five Families Council, a man who had sat at my father's right hand and toasted to my wedding with Isabella. He had publicly wept at her memorial service.
""Salieri wanted you broken,"" Dante continued, showing me bank transfers and encrypted email exchanges. ""Vincent wanted Isabella; Salieri wanted your territory. Salieri figured that a grieving, unstable Dominic Moretti would eventually make a mistake and turn the families against you, allowing Salieri to step in as supreme head of the commission while Vincent ruled our syndicate as a puppet.""
""They underestimated my grief,"" I said, loading a customized tactical rifle with practiced, lethal precision. ""They thought sorrow made me weak. They forgot that sorrow stripped of mercy only leaves a monster.""
My tactical squad—twelve of the most ruthless operators who had sworn loyalty to me alone—sat in silent rows, checking magazines and tightening straps. Every man here knew Isabella. She had paid for their children's surgeries, visited their families when they were wounded, treated every soldier not as cannon fodder, but as brothers. When word spread through the ranks that the lady of the house was alive, there was no hesitation. Tonight was not business; it was righteous extermination.
Below us, the dense, black canopy of the Adirondacks appeared like an endless sea of shadows under the moonlight. The pilot’s voice crackled through my headset. ""Approaching drop zone in three minutes, Boss. Forward thermal sensors show eight armed sentries patrolling the perimeter. Four heat signatures inside the main cabin, and two signatures located fifteen feet underground beneath the eastern wing.""
""Underground,"" I muttered. ""The cellar. That's where he kept her.""
""Boss, it's eleven-twenty,"" Dante warned, checking his digital timer. ""We have twenty-five minutes before the automatic fail-safe triggers. If Salieri's mercenaries realize we're here, they might blow the charges early.""
""We don't give them time to think,"" I said, racking the bolt of my rifle. ""Fast rope down directly onto the roof. Marco, handle the exterior sentries with suppressed fire. Dante, take the breach team and secure the basement access stairs. I go in first.""
The helicopter banked sharply against the wind, dropping through the mountain mist like a hawk diving for blood. The compound came into view: a sprawling, timbered estate surrounded by ten-foot razor wire and floodlights. To the outside world, a billionaire's rustic retreat. To my wife and child, a tomb.
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""Thirty seconds!"" the jumpmaster called.
I looked down at the tiny bunny bandage Mia had stuck onto the cuff of my tactical sleeve. ""Hang on, Isabella,"" I whispered. ""Your husband is home.""
