Chapter 6 - THE SIEGE OF CHICAGO
The abandoned meatpacking plant on 14th Street looked like a giant rust-covered tomb rising out of the misty docks.
Rain poured down from the black sky, washing over the slick pavement as four blacked-out Rossi assault trucks glided into position around the perimeter, their headlights off, their engines humming like sleeping beasts.
Inside the rear command vehicle, I sat beside Vincent as he strapped on his heavy Kevlar vest.
"Thermal scans show forty-two armed men inside the main processing floor," Marcus reported from the front seat, holding a digital tablet displaying blue heat signatures inside the building. "They have three heavy machine gun nests covering the main entryways."
"They are waiting for a call from the waiter confirming my death," Vincent said, sliding two extra magazines into his tactical belt. "When that call doesn't come, they will know something is wrong."
He looked over at me. I was wearing a black tactical jacket over my red silk dress, holding my silver pistol tightly in my lap.
"Clara," Vincent said, his voice dropping into that deep, gentle tone he reserved only for me. "If anything goes wrong... if a single man breaks through our line, you stay in this armored vehicle. The glass is bulletproof. The doors lock from the inside."
"Vincent," I said, reaching out to grab his gloved hand. "Don't talk like you aren't coming back."
He lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles right over my diamond ring. "I have a wife waiting for me. I'm coming back."
He gave the signal.
BOOM!
Two explosive breach charges detonated against the factory’s heavy iron doors, blowing them off their hinges in a blinding flash of orange fire and white smoke.
Rossi soldiers flooded through the breach like a wave of iron, their automatic rifles barking into the dark interior.
Gunfire echoed across the industrial district like thunder. Tracers cut through the rain, illuminating the broken windows of the factory.
I sat in the command vehicle, my heart hammering against my ribs as I watched the blue thermal signatures on Marcus's tablet screen start to turn red and disappear one by one. Vincent was at the front of the assault, moving with terrifying precision, clearing room after room.
For twenty minutes, the battle raged.
Then, the tablet screen flickered.
A red dot—a single survivor—was moving rapidly away from the main floor, moving down a dark secondary corridor toward the back of the building... straight toward the alleyway where our command vehicle was parked!
"Clara, lock the doors!" Marcus shouted from the front seat, reaching for his rifle.
Before Marcus could even open his door to step outside, the alleyway's side door burst open.
A tall, heavily muscular man covered in tactical gear rushed out into the rain, holding a high-caliber assault rifle.
Mateo’s brother. Leo.
Leo spotted our command SUV instantly. His eyes went wide with a manic, vengeful hatred as he recognized the Rossi crest painted on the armor.
He raised his rifle, aiming straight through the windshield at Marcus.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Heavy rounds slammed into the bulletproof glass, spider-webbing the surface. Marcus was knocked back into his seat, bleeding from a shoulder fragment hit.
Leo sprinted toward the driver’s side door, pulling a heavy grenade from his belt. He was going to blow the vehicle from underneath.
"No!" I screamed.
I didn't think. I didn't hesitate.
I hit the emergency override button on the center console, opening the top roof hatch of the SUV. I hauled myself up through the opening, stepping into the freezing rain.
Leo was five feet away, pulling the pin on the grenade with his teeth, his attention focused entirely on the driver's door.
I raised my silver pistol with both hands, took a deep breath, and aimed right for the center of his chest—just like Vincent had shown me in the estate armory.
BANG! BANG!
The two rounds caught Leo square in the chest.
He stumbled backward, gasping for air, his eyes flying up to look at me in absolute shock. The unpinned grenade slipped from his lifeless fingers, rolling down into a storm drain on the pavement.
BOOM!
The muffled underwater explosion rocked the alleyway, spraying water into the air, but the armor of the SUV absorbed the shockwave easily.
Leo collapsed into the mud, lifeless.
I stood atop the SUV, the rain soaking my hair, my hands holding the smoking silver gun, breathing heavily as the silence settled over the docks.
The factory door opened slowly.
Vincent stepped out into the alley, covered in soot and rain, holding his rifle at his side.
He looked up at the roof of the SUV. He saw me standing there, holding the smoking gun, with Leo dead at my feet.
Vincent dropped his rifle to the pavement, rushed forward, and reached up to haul me down into his arms, pulling me into a fierce, desperate embrace that lifted my feet off the ground.
"You crazy, magnificent woman," Vincent breathed into my neck, his body shaking with a mixture of terror and overwhelming relief. "You saved us again."
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I buried my face into his shoulder, holding onto his heavy tactical vest as the rain washed the blood and darkness away from the night.
"I told you," I whispered, smiling through my tears. "I'm a Rossi now."
