Chapter 4 - Shadows in the Warehouse
Rows of towering shipping containers stretched out before us like urban canyons, filled with contraband crates, smuggled electronics, and millions in unwashed cash. Overhead, fluorescent bulbs flickered sickly, casting erratic shadows across the concrete floor.
“Marcus!” Damian’s voice boomed through the warehouse, echoing off the corrugated metal walls. “Come out and face the ledger, you coward!”
A harsh, grating laugh echoed from the catwalk above.
“Damian? I thought you’d have better sense than to bring a federal rat into our backyard!”
Marcus stood on the metal gantry thirty feet above us, holding a silver revolver casually in his right hand. Two of his remaining enforcers flanked him, their automatic weapons trained directly down at our position.
“You leaked federal files to Viktor, Marcus,” Damian called out, not a single trace of fear in his voice. “You sold out our operations to save your own skin.”
“I saved the business!” Marcus spat back, leaning over the railing. “You went soft, Damian! Ever since you took in that stray maid and her brat, you forgot what empire we built! But don't worry—once I put a bullet in both of you, I’ll take over the board, clean house, and run Chicago the way it was meant to be run!”
Marcus raised his weapon toward my chest.
I didn't flinch. I had already calculated the windage, the angle, and the cover behind container row seven.
“Now!” I yelled.
We broke in opposite directions. A hail of automatic gunfire chewed up the concrete where we had been standing a second before. Sparks showered down like fireworks.
I vaulted onto a stack of wooden crates, scrambling up the side of a forty-foot shipping container to match elevation with Marcus’s enforcers. My boots hit the metal roof with a dull thud.
One of the enforcers spun around, muzzle flashing as he tried to track me through the sleet mist blowing in from the open loading bay.
I slid across the slick metal roof, bringing my Glock up just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet zipped past my ear, singing hot against the wind.
Bang. Bang.
Two center-mass hits dropped him instantly over the edge of the gantry.
Across the warehouse, I heard the sharp, unmistakable crack of Damian’s Sig Sauer. Looking down, I saw Damian duck beneath a hail of cover fire, slide across a forklift hood, and vault up the side maintenance ladder toward the catwalk.
Marcus was screaming orders now, his voice cracking with panic. “Kill them! Shoot them both!”
The second enforcer turned toward Damian, raising his rifle just as Damian reached the top of the ladder.
May you like
Without hesitation, I adjusted my aim, squeezed the trigger, and caught the enforcer in the shoulder, knocking his rifle wide. Damian lunged forward like a striking predator, slamming his fist into the man's jaw and sending him crashing over the railing into a pile of empty pallets below.
Marcus was alone.
