Chapter 7 - The River Warehouse
The rain poured over the Hudson River in violent, apocalyptic sheets.
Inside Warehouse 88—a massive, rusted steel structure looming over the black river water—the wind howled through broken glass panes near the ceiling.
Clara and Maya were tied to two wooden chairs in the center of the vast concrete floor.
Standing in front of them was Thomas Vance—Dante Moretti’s former chief lieutenant who had escaped the federal sweep two months ago. His face was scarred, his eyes wild with desperate, psychotic vengeance.
"Dante is doing forty years in Sing Sing because of you two," Thomas snarled, pacing back and forth, holding a heavy revolver. "And Conti took everything I owned. But tonight... when Conti comes through that door, he’s going to watch me drop you both into the river."
"Damian will kill you," Clara said, her voice steady despite the tears of terror streaming down her face. She leaned toward Maya, trying to shield her daughter with her body. "He will rip you apart."
"He has to get through my twenty men first," Thomas laughed maniacally.
BOOM!
The massive steel loading doors of the warehouse were literally blown off their hinges by a high-explosive breaching charge!
Fire, smoke, and shattered metal rained across the concrete floor!
Before the smoke could even clear, Damian Conti walked through the flames.
He wore no body armor. He held a heavy tactical shotgun in his right hand. Behind him, thirty Conti enforcers poured into the warehouse, firing suppressed weapons with terrifying precision!
PAK-PAK-PAK-PAK!
Gunfire erupted across the warehouse! Thomas’s mercenaries were cut down in seconds, falling from rusted catwalks and collapsing behind shipping crates!
Damian didn't take cover. He walked straight down the center aisle, racking his shotgun with every step, his ice-blue eyes fixed entirely on Thomas Vance.
"Conti!" Thomas screamed, grabbing Maya from her chair, hauling the three-year-old girl up by her collar, holding his revolver directly against her head! "Stop right there or I put a bullet through her brain!"
Damian stopped fifteen feet away.
The warehouse fell into a terrifying, dead silence. The rain pounded on the tin roof, and the river churned beneath the floorboards.
"Put the child down, Thomas," Damian said, his voice terrifyingly calm.
"Drop your gun!" Thomas shrieked, his hand shaking violently against Maya’s head. "Drop it or she dies!"
Maya looked across the distance at Damian. Despite the gun at her temple, she didn't cry. She reached into her little pocket with her free hand, pulling out her remaining yellow rubber glove, holding it up toward Damian.
"Mister Damian..." Maya squeaked softly. "I lost one."
Damian looked at the child. His heart shattered into a thousand pieces, replaced by an absolute resolve.
"I found it, little one," Damian whispered softly. "I have it right here."
Slowly, deliberately, Damian lowered his shotgun, setting it onto the concrete floor.
"Take me instead, Thomas," Damian offered, raising his hands. "Let the woman and the child walk out that door. You get your revenge on the man who destroyed your life."
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Thomas grinned insanely. "You fool... you weak, pathetic fool..."
Thomas turned his gun away from Maya, aiming it straight at Damian’s chest!
