Chapter 5 - The Packard Fire
Twenty minutes passed like a slow nightmare.
Rain battered against the rusted corrugated tin roof of the Packard assembly plant, creating a deafening, rhythmic roar.
I sat tied to the metal chair in the center of the vast, hollow floor. Five gunmen were positioned across the high steel catwalks above, their rifles aimed directly at the grand double doors of the warehouse. Victor Russo stood ten paces behind my chair, a silver pistol held in his hand, his eyes glued to the entrance.
"Five minutes late," Victor muttered nervously, checking his watch. "Where is he?"
BOOM!
A violent explosion rocked the eastern wall of the warehouse!
Concrete, dust, and steel beams rained down in a blinding white cloud as a heavy steel-plated armored truck smashed straight through the brick wall, crushing two parked sedans beneath its massive tires!
"FIRE! FIRE!" Victor roared in sheer panic!
The catwalk gunmen opened fire, bullets bouncing uselessly off the reinforced steel armor of the truck in a hail of sparks!
BRRRRRT! BRRRRRT!
From the dust cloud behind the truck, six smoke grenades were launched across the warehouse floor, filling the entire space with thick, impenetrable gray smoke!
"I CAN'T SEE HIM! I CAN'T SEE HIM!" a gunman screamed from the catwalk above!
Suddenly, a massive shadow emerged from the smoke right beside my chair.
It was Lorenzo.
He wasn't wearing a suit today. He wore tactical body armor over a dark sweater, his dark eyes glowing with a terrifying, absolute fury. In his hands was a heavy shotgun.
With a single fluid motion, he pulled a tactical knife from his vest, sliced the plastic zip-ties around my wrists, and scooped me up into his massive left arm!
"I've got you, Emily," Lorenzo growled softly against my hair, tucking my head securely into his neck, using his body as an impenetrable shield!
"MORETTI!" Victor screamed through the smoke, firing his pistol wildly!
Lorenzo didn't even flinch. He racked the shotgun with a sharp CLICK-CLACK, turned toward Victor's voice, and fired!
BANG!
The heavy force threw Victor backward into an oil drum, knocking him unconscious!
On the catwalks above, Dominic and four Moretti enforcers cleared the elevated positions with rapid, disciplined precision, securing the entire facility within ninety seconds.
The heavy smoke began to clear under the rain pouring through the shattered roof.
Lorenzo set me down gently on a dry wooden crate near the armored truck. His face was covered in concrete dust, a small cut bleeding near his left temple, but his hands were remarkably gentle as he checked my arms for injuries.
"Are you hurt, Emily?" he asked, his voice rough, breathless, his dark eyes scanning my face with intense concern. "Did they touch you?"
"No," I wept, throwing my small arms around his neck, burying my face into his tactical vest. "I'm okay... I'm okay! You came!"
Lorenzo stood frozen for a second, unaccustomed to being hugged by anyone. Then, slowly, his heavy, scarred arms wrapped around my shoulders, holding me close against his chest.
"I promised you, Emily," Lorenzo whispered, his voice trembling slightly with an emotion he had buried ten years ago. "Nobody hurts my family."
Dominic walked up, wiping soot from his face, looking down at Victor Russo being cuffed by two enforcers.
"What do we do with Russo, boss?" Dominic asked.
Lorenzo looked down at Victor, then back at me. He gently smoothed down my hair, wiping a spot of dust off my cheek.
"Hand him over to the federal task force," Lorenzo ordered quietly. "Along with the wiretap recordings of his extortion ring. I'm done playing games with the Eastside."
May you like
Dominic smiled—a genuine, rare smile. "Understood, boss."
Lorenzo picked me up in his arms, carrying me out of the ruined warehouse into the fresh, rain-cooled air, where three black Suburbans were waiting with their doors wide open.
