Chapter 6 - The Grain Silo
The Chicago River was black as ink under the moonless night sky.
Rising fifty feet above the water stood the abandoned industrial grain silo—a rusting hulk of concrete and steel that had been dormant for thirty years. But as Dante and I approached through the foggy marshland, my thermal scope picked up multiple heat signatures positioned on the roof and surrounding catwalks.
Cassian was inside.
“We have eight hostiles on the perimeter,” Dante whispered from behind a ruined concrete barrier. “Thermal imaging shows three more inside the main control room on the fifth floor.”
“Take out the roof guards quietly,” I ordered. “We go in through the basement water intake.”
Five minutes later, Dante and I slipped through the rusted iron grate at the river’s edge. We moved through the dripping, narrow access tunnels like ghosts.
We climbed the internal metal stairwell, eliminating two Bellini sentries with silenced shots before they could raise their radios.
By 2:30 AM, we reached the reinforced steel door of the fifth-floor control room. Bright blue halogen light spilled through the frosted glass panel.
I gave Dante the signal.
He placed a magnetic breaching charge on the lock mechanism.
Three... two... one.
THUMP.
The door blew inward. Dante and I swept into the room, weapons raised.
Two tactical operators inside tried to reach for their carbines, but Dante opened fire, dropping them both instantly onto the metal floor.
At the far end of the room, surrounded by bank upon bank of glowing computer monitors displaying satellite feeds of Chicago, sat an old man in a wheelchair.
He was hooked up to a portable oxygen machine, his face thin and pale, but his sharp, dark eyes were instantly recognizable.
Cassian Vance. My father’s former Consigliere. The man I had once trusted with my life.
Cassian didn't look surprised. He slowly disconnected his oxygen mask, set it in his lap, and let out a dry, rattling laugh that sounded like dead leaves dragging across concrete.
“Alejandro,” Cassian rasped, coughing slightly. “I must admit... I didn't expect you to find this place so quickly. Mayor Sterling was always a weak link.”
I walked toward him, my heavy boots clicking against the metal floor, my gun leveled at his chest.
“You’re alive,” I said, my voice empty of emotion.
“Barely,” Cassian chuckled bitterly, tapping his useless legs. “Bone cancer. The doctors in Zurich gave me six months. Faking my death was the only way I could operate without your hounds tracing my movements.”
“You targeted my wife,” I said, stepping closer until the barrel of my gun was inches from his face. “You forced Sofia into hiding. You tried to murder my four four-year-old boys today.”
Cassian’s eyes flickered with a sudden, dark intensity.
“I didn't target Sofia out of hatred, Alejandro!” Cassian hissed, leaning forward in his wheelchair. “I did it to save the Moretti empire from your weakness!”
“Weakness?” I echoed coldly.
“Your father was a king because he ruled with absolute terror!” Cassian spat. “He didn't let emotion soften his heart! But you... when you married Sofia, you became soft! You started talking about legitimate businesses, about pulling back from the docks, about peace with Bellini!”
Cassian spat blood onto the floor.
“Bellini was preparing to wipe us out, Alejandro!” Cassian continued, his voice rising in maniacal passion. “I knew that if Sofia bore you children, you would completely retreat into domestic life! You would turn the Moretti syndicate into a weak, vulnerable target! So I made a deal with Bellini. I offered him your unborn heirs in exchange for a fifty percent stake in the Midwest logistics syndicate!”
“You sold out my blood for money and power?” I asked, my grip on the Kimber tightening until my knuckles turned white.
“I sold out four unborn babies to preserve the power of Chicago!” Cassian roared. “And today... today those four little bastards were supposed to die! How did they survive?! How did a housekeeper evade Bellini’s top strike team?!”
I leaned down until my eyes were inches from Cassian’s sickly face.
“Because Sofia was smarter than you, Cassian,” I whispered. “She saw through your treachery five years ago. She protected my sons. And today... those four boys are safe, healthy, and carrying my name.”
Cassian’s breath hitched. A look of absolute, soul-crushing defeat washed over his pale face.
“Four...” Cassian murmured, his voice trembling. “Four identical Moretti boys...?”
“Four princes,” I corrected him. “And they will grow up knowing that their father hunted down every rat who tried to steal their birthright.”
Cassian closed his eyes, bowing his head. “Kill me then, Alejandro. Do it.”
I lowered my pistol.
Cassian opened his eyes, confused.
“No,” I said coldly. “Dying by a bullet is too quick for a traitor who betrayed my father and my wife.”
I turned to Dante.
“Lock him in this room,” I commanded. “Disconnect the servers. Destroy the oxygen tanks. Leave him in the dark until his cancer finishes the job.”
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“No! Alejandro! No!” Cassian shrieked, panic finally shattering his cold exterior as Dante grabbed his wheelchair and dragged him away from the control panels. “Shoot me! You owe me a bullet! ALEJANDRO!”
I walked out of the grain silo, closing the heavy steel door behind me, leaving Cassian Vance screaming into the black silence of his own grave.
