Chapter 24 - THE INTERROGATION IN THE DARK
Ten minutes later, the gunfire had dwindled to a tense, ringing silence, broken only by the hiss of a punctured radiator from a truck parked near the loading bay.
Two men lay neutralized on the catwalks; three others were kneeling on the concrete floor with their hands locked behind their heads, guarded by Marco and the enforcers. In the center of the room, standing over the surviving lead gunman—a scarred, heavy-set mercenary with a Russian tactical patch on his sleeve—was Evelyn Carter.
She walked slowly around the kneeling man, her heels clicking against the concrete with a rhythmic, hypnotic menace. She didn't raise her voice. She didn't need to.
"Who hired you?" Evelyn asked softly.
The mercenary spat a bloody glob onto the floor, sneering up at her through the dark. "Go to hell, princess. You don't know who's pulling the strings. You think you own Chicago just because you wiped out the Italians? You're playing a game on a board that's already burning."
Lorenzo stepped forward, his face a mask of cold fury, raising his pistol to press the barrel directly against the man's temple. "Let's see how much you talk when your brains are painted across the floor."
"Wait," Evelyn held up a single gloved hand, stopping Lorenzo. She knelt down until her face was inches from the mercenary's. Her gray eyes locked onto his with an intensity that made the hardened soldier flinch. "You're right about one thing. The board is burning. But do you know who set the fire? I did. And if you don't tell me which syndicate from across the Atlantic or the Pacific thinks they can buy my rail yards, I will feed you to the rats in the Chicago River piece by piece. Who is financing this?"
The mercenary’s defiance crumbled under the sheer weight of her gaze. The cold, unblinking authority in her eyes told him she wasn't bluffing. "Kravchenko... the Bratva," he choked out. "They're moving into the Great Lakes through a shell company in Montreal. They want the port grid back."
May you like
Evelyn stood up, straightening her blazer. She looked at Lorenzo. "The Russian syndicate. They aren't waiting for an invitation."
---
