Chapter 6 - The Siege of Moretti Manor
By 11:30 PM, the storm reached its peak over the Chicago suburbs. Lightning illuminated the towering stone walls of the Moretti estate.
The grand front iron gates were completely chained shut. Every perimeter floodlight had been turned off, plunging the sprawling grounds into pitch-black shadow. Inside, Victor had announced to the guards that Roman had been assassinated at the restaurant by Gabriel Vane, and that he was taking emergency command of the syndicate.
Near the eastern perimeter, half a mile from the main entrance, stood an old stone mausoleum built in the 1890s.
Roman pushed open a heavy iron door hidden behind a moss-covered crypt. Inside was a narrow, winding stone staircase leading deep underground.
“This was built during Prohibition,” Roman explained, holding a tactical flashlight as they descended into the cool, damp earth. “It connects directly to the wine cellar beneath the main house.”
Emma walked close behind him, holding a suppressed assault rifle taken from Vane’s SUV. Brutus trotted silently ahead of them, his night vision and sharp sense of smell serving as their forward radar.
After ten minutes of navigating dark, narrow stone tunnels, Brutus stopped at the base of a iron ladder leading upward toward a wooden trapdoor.
The dog sniffed the cracks of the wood, then turned his head back toward Emma and gave two silent tail wags.
Clear.
Roman carefully pushed the wooden trapdoor upward, slipping out into the dim light of the estate’s lower wine cellar. Emma and Brutus followed smoothly behind.
Above them, through the concrete ceiling, the muffled sound of loud shouting and heavy footsteps could be heard echoing through the ground-floor hallways.
“Victor is gathering the captains in the grand ballroom,” Roman deduced, checking the magazine of his weapon. “He’s trying to force them to swear allegiance to him before news of Vane’s capture leaks out.”
“If we walk into the ballroom through the main doors, his men will overwhelm us with raw numbers,” Emma analyzed, looking up at the ceiling architecture. “We need to cut the main generator first. Force them into total darkness.”
Roman smiled—a proud, fierce smile. “The main breaker box is in the utility room down this hall. Brutus can slip through the air ventilation duct to reach the security hub.”
Emma knelt down beside Brutus, taking the dog’s broad face in her hands. “Brutus, listen to me. Go to the security room. Cut the backup comms. Good boy.”
Brutus gave a quiet huff, turning and slipping effortlessly into an open lower ventilation wall grate, moving like a phantom through the shadows.
Three minutes later, a loud electronic hum echoed through the walls.
BOOM!
The entire estate was instantly plunged into absolute, pitch-black darkness!
Shrieks and panicked shouts erupted from the ballroom above as all lights, electronic door locks, and surveillance monitors died simultaneously!
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“Now,” Roman growled.
Roman and Emma kicked open the reinforced cellar door, storming up the marble staircase into the grand foyer like vengeful spirits!
