Chapter 17 - Into the Fire
The docks at Pier 44 were completely swallowed by a thick, suffocating fog rolling in off the dark ocean water.
I followed Ricardo's heavily armed convoy at a safe distance, driving an unmarked black sedan that I had borrowed from the estate's garage.
When I finally killed the headlights and parked near the rusty perimeter fence, the deafening sound of heavy gunfire had already started.
The air was thick with the harsh smell of gunpowder and the metallic scent of fresh blood.
I crept through the maze of towering metal shipping containers, gripping my small pistol so tightly my knuckles turned entirely white.
Ricardo’s men were fighting a brutal, bloody war against Victor’s heavily armed Chicago syndicate.
Muzzle flashes lit up the dark fog like violent, deadly lightning.
I ducked behind a stack of wooden crates, my heart hammering furiously against my ribs as bullets sparked off the metal directly above my head.
Through the chaos, I spotted Ricardo.
He was pinned down behind a rusted forklift, his left arm bleeding heavily, completely surrounded by three of Victor's mercenaries.
His men were too far away to provide covering fire, and he was rapidly running out of ammunition.
One of the mercenaries began slowly flanking Ricardo’s position, raising his assault rifle to deliver the final, killing shot.
Pure, blinding adrenaline completely took over my mind and body.
I stepped out from behind the crates, raised my trembling hands, and aimed the heavy pistol just like Ricardo had taught me on the shooting range.
I pulled the trigger twice.
The loud cracks echoed sharply through the fog, and the mercenary flanking Ricardo suddenly collapsed lifelessly to the wet concrete.
Ricardo spun around in absolute shock, his dark eyes locking entirely onto mine through the drifting smoke.
"Clara! What the hell are you doing here!" Ricardo roared, completely horrified that I was standing in the middle of a war zone.
Before I could answer, a massive hand grabbed me violently by the back of my coat, lifting me completely off the ground.
Victor Rossi pressed the cold, steel barrel of a gun directly against my temple.
"Drop your weapons, Moretti!" Victor screamed over the sound of the dying gunfire. "Drop them, or I blow her beautiful head off right now!"
The entire shipping yard fell into a terrifying, dead silence as Ricardo's men stopped firing.
Ricardo stood up slowly from behind the forklift, tossing his empty weapons onto the ground with a heavy clatter.
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He looked at me, completely ignoring the gun pressed to my head, and gave me a very subtle, almost imperceptible nod.
He was telling me to trust him.
