Chapter 5 - The Fortress on the Calumet
The Calumet River on the south side of Chicago was an industrial wasteland of rusting steel, decaying grain silos, and dark water.
A winter gale blew off Lake Michigan, whipping waves against the concrete docks. At the end of an abandoned pier stood the colossal structure of the abandoned 1920s Grain Elevator—a ten-story labyrinth of concrete, iron catwalks, and decaying machinery.
Inside a windowless concrete room on the fourth floor, bound to a heavy wooden chair with thick zip-ties, sat Elena Blackwood.
Her cream-colored coat was torn and stained with dirt, her dark hair tangled, but her posture remained defiantly straight. Her lip was cut, yet her dark eyes burned with dangerous intelligence as she stared at the man standing in front of her.
It wasn't a mercenary. It was Hector Rossi—the boss of the rival Rossi Syndicate, and Victoria’s secret partner.
“You should have stayed out of the business, Elena,” Hector said, pouring himself two fingers of scotch from a crystal decanter resting on a folding table. “Victoria promised me total control of the Chicago docks if I helped her eliminate you and frame Daniel as a rogue traitor.”
Elena let out a dry, disdainful laugh. “Victoria is a lunatic, Hector. And you are a fool for trusting her. Do you really think Marcus wouldn't figure out the body in that coffin wasn't me?”
“The body in the coffin was a john-doe overdose victim from the county morgue, dressed in your clothes with your ring,” Hector sneered. “By the time Marcus realized it, Victoria was supposed to have seized his financial accounts and executed him in the church.”
Elena smiled softly—a cold, knowing smile that made Hector uncomfortable. “Then why haven't you received the confirmation call from Victoria yet?”
Hector froze, his glass halfway to his lips.
He pulled out his phone. No messages. No calls. Just dead silence.
“Marcus isn't dead, is he?” Elena murmured, leaning forward against her restraints. “In fact, right now, my husband is probably peeling Victoria’s skin off layer by layer in a basement somewhere. And then he’s coming here.”
Hector’s jaw tightened. He smashed his glass onto the floor, pulling a heavy revolver from his coat. “It doesn't matter! Even if Marcus survived, he has no idea where this place is! You die tonight, Elena!”
Suddenly, the heavy steel security doors on the ground floor beneath them blew inward with a deafening explosion that shook the entire concrete foundation of the grain silo.
BOOM!
Dust rained down from the ceiling. Alarm sirens from Hector’s perimeter defense system began to wail uselessly in the darkness.
Over the facility’s loudspeaker system, a deep, terrifying voice cut through the static—a voice Hector knew all too well.
“Hector Rossi,” Marcus’s voice echoed through the dark halls like thunder. “You took my wife. You brought terror to an innocent child. You have ten minutes to bring Elena to the main courtyard. If she has a single new scratch on her body, I will make sure no one carrying the Rossi name ever walks the earth again.”
Hector’s face turned white as snow. He backed away from Elena, his hands shaking as he raised his gun toward her head.
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“You brought him here!” Hector screamed.
“No, Hector,” Elena said quietly, looking past his barrel toward the shadowed doorway behind him. “You brought him here yourself.”
