Chapter 49 - The Sicilian Gambit
"Kill the deck lights!" Vincent commanded, springing into the wheelhouse.
I followed him up the narrow stairs, carrying Maya wrapped in a heavy wool blanket. Through the rain-lashed glass of the bridge, the dark silhouettes of three military-grade interceptor boats were visible, carving white wakes through the black swells as they boxed us in.
A blinding searchlight snapped on from the lead boat, pinning the *Santa Lucia* in an unbearable glare.
Over the crackling marine radio, a voice boomed in Italian:
*"Santa Lucia, cut your engines and prepare to be boarded. By order of the Grand Capo Antonio Moretti, any resistance will be met with lethal force."*
"How far to the shallows of Cala Rossa?" Vincent demanded of the helmsman.
"Two nautical miles, Don Vincent! But the reef... at this speed in low tide, we’ll rip the bottom out of the hull!"
"Then rip it," Vincent snarled. "Ram the throttle to the pins!"
The old diesel engine shrieked in protest as the trawler surged forward toward the jagged black cliffs of the Sicilian coastline. Behind us, the interceptors opened fire. Heavy caliber rounds punched through the wheelhouse roof, showering us with glass and wood splinters.
Vincent tackled me and Maya to the deck, shielding us with his body as the bullets ripped through the navigation console. Smoke and sparks erupted from the ruined instruments.
"Hold on!" the helmsman screamed.
A deafening crunch shook the vessel as the *Santa Lucia* struck the submerged limestone reef. The bow vaulted upward, thrown violently onto the rocks by a massive following wave. The trawler groaned, tilting thirty degrees to port, water rushing into the lower compartments with a roar.
"Out! Into the surf!" Vincent hauled me to my feet, grabbing Maya in his arms.
We tumbled over the low gunwale into the freezing, waist-deep foam of the shallow bay. The sharp coral cut through my boots, but the adrenaline kept the pain at bay. Overhead, the searchlights from the interceptors swept across the wrecked hull, their hulls too deep to cross the barrier reef into the shallow cove.
"They’re launching Zodiac rafts!" Vincent yelled over the roar of the surf, dragging us toward the narrow gravel beach beneath the towering red cliffs. "We have less than ten minutes before their landing teams hit the shore!"
We scrambled up the steep goat path leading to the clifftop, the red clay turning to slick mud beneath our feet. My lungs burned, my muscles screamed in agony, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop.
At the summit of the ridge, the storm began to break, parting the clouds to reveal the glittering lights of the Sicilian valley below.
May you like
And there, less than three miles inland across the olive groves, sat the sprawling stone fortress of Villa d'Oro. Its courtyards were ablaze with floodlights, surrounded by dozens of black luxury sedans.
The Council of the Seven Capos was already in session.
