Chapter 11 - The Rescue
The meat locker was freezing, the air thick with the smell of old blood and frost. In the center of the room, tied to a butcher’s chair, was Julian. He was battered, shivering violently, and barely conscious.
Four Moretti guards were in the room, their attention drawn toward the ceiling as the sounds of the massive shootout echoed from the courtyard above.
They never heard Dante drop from the grate.
Using suppressed pistols, Dante and his men took out all four guards with lethal, synchronized precision before a single alarm could be raised. Dante rushed forward, cutting the zip ties binding Julian’s wrists.
"Julian Bianchi?" Dante asked, catching the kid as he slumped forward.
"Who... who are you?" Julian mumbled through cracked lips.
"Your sister’s wedding present," Dante grunted, hoisting the kid over his broad shoulders. "Command, this is Bravo Team. We have the package. Moving to extraction point."
Up in the courtyard, Matteo stood behind the armored door of his SUV, returning fire. The Moretti forces were deeply entrenched, raining bullets down on the Rossi cars.
"Boss, we have the boy," Dante’s voice crackled in Matteo’s ear. "He's alive. We're clear."
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A feral, triumphant smile crossed Matteo’s face. He grabbed his radio. "All units, the package is secure. Stop playing nice. Flatten the building."
Matteo’s heavy backup arrived—two trucks outfitted with military-grade mounted machine guns. They shredded the slaughterhouse barricades, tearing through concrete and steel.
