Chapter 4 - The Safehouse Protocol
We slipped out under the cover of a torrential autumn downpour. While Dominic’s men were occupied searching the empty main master suite, my most trusted driver took Camille, Adeline, and Dr. Morales out through the underground sewage maintenance tunnel that emptied into an abandoned boathouse three miles south.
I moved Vincent myself, strapped to an oxygen gurney inside an unmarked floral delivery van. His skin was gray, his breath coming in shallow, agonizing rattles, but the doctor’s emergency chest tube had relieved the pressure in his pleural cavity. His eyes fluttered open as the van hit a bump on the highway.
""Marcus..."" he croaked, his cracked lips barely moving.
""Save your strength, Boss,"" I said, leaning close to his mouth. ""You're safe. We're heading to the hunting lodge in the Blue Ridge hills.""
""The girl..."" he wheezed, his fingers clawing at the rough wool blanket. ""Addie... saw...""
""She’s with her mother. She's safe,"" I assured him. ""She told me about the mints, Vincent. She saved your life. She called the desk from your emergency landline.""
A faint, broken smile touched the corner of Vincent’s mouth before his eyes rolled back from exhaustion. Even while bleeding out, the undisputed king of the underworld had thought of protecting a housekeeper's child.
Two hours later, we arrived at the fortified lodge hidden deep within eighty acres of dense pine forest. It had its own generator, satellite uplink, and an underground bunker designed to withstand a military siege. Camille was already there, rocking Adeline by the stone fireplace.
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""Marcus!"" Camille ran over, her eyes red from crying. ""Dominic’s men raided my apartment in Little Italy. They tore everything apart. They’re looking for something!""
""They're looking for this,"" I said, carefully unzipping the seam of Adeline’s green stuffed alligator. Inside the polyester stuffing rested the heavy gold Castellano medallion.
