Chapter 27 #2
Ten percent of sixty men means six dead. Six men who volunteered for this mission knowing they might not come back. Six families who might lose fathers and brothers and sons because I trusted the wrong person.
“They know the risks?”
“They know.” Marco steps closer, lowering his voice. “Every single one of them volunteered. Not because you ordered them to. Because Viktor’s betrayal hit all of us, and they want to see him pay for it.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
“We’re going to get him back, Dante.”
My heart squeezes as I realize it’s the first time he’s addressing me by name. Only Viktor had that luxury as my right-hand man.
“We’re going to get Luca. And we’re going to make Viktor regret the day he decided to cross you.” Marco clasps my shoulder, his grip firm. “I’ve been with you since we were kids running packages for your father. I’ve never seen you lose when it mattered. You’re not going to start now.”
“If something happens to me—”
“Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
“If it does.” I hold his gaze. “Scarlett and Luca become your responsibility. You get them out of the city, set them up somewhere safe with new identities. Whatever resources they need.”
“Dante—”
“Promise me.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, and I can see him wrestling with the words. Marco has always hated talking about losses, about the possibility that a mission might go wrong. But he’s also realistic enough to know that planning for the worst is how you survive in this business.
“I promise,” he finally says. “But it’s not going to come to that.”
I hope he’s right.
The vehicles are waiting in the underground garage when I head down at quarter to five. Black SUVs with reinforced panels and bulletproof glass. Four of them, enough to carry the initial assault teams while backup units approach from different angles.
My men are loading weapons and checking equipment, the controlled routine of professionals preparing for combat.
They nod at me as I pass, some of them murmuring “Boss” in acknowledgment.
I can feel their tension and anticipation.
They want this. Want the chance to strike back against the man who betrayed us all.
Scarlett is standing beside the lead SUV, already dressed in the tactical outfit Marco fitted for her yesterday. The body armor makes her look smaller somehow, more fragile, but her eyes are steady and her jaw is set with determination.
She looks terrified and brave and beautiful all at once.
“Are you ready?” I ask, stopping in front of her.
“No.” Her voice doesn’t waver. “But I’m going anyway.”
“That’s all any of us can do.”
I help her into the SUV and slide in beside her. Marco takes the driver’s seat while two of my best men climb in the back. The engine roars to life and we pull out of the garage into the pre-dawn darkness.
The city is quiet at this hour, empty streets and dark windows, a world still sleeping while we drive toward violence.
I watch the familiar landmarks pass by, the coffee shops and restaurants where normal people live normal lives, and try to keep my mind clear, focused on what’s ahead rather than what might go wrong.
The radio wheezes with updates from the other teams. Alpha in position. Bravo moving to secondary. Charlie standing by.
Scarlett’s hand finds mine in the darkness between our seats. Her fingers are cold and I can feel the slight tremor running through them, the fear she’s trying so hard to hide. I squeeze once, letting her know I’m here, and she squeezes back.
We don’t speak. There’s nothing left to say that we haven’t already said, promises made and feelings confessed in the quiet hours of the night. Now there’s only the mission and whatever waits for us at its end.
Brooklyn soon emerges from the darkness as we cross the bridge, industrial buildings giving way to residential neighborhoods still asleep.
The cathedral is in a forgotten corner of the borough, an abandoned church that fell into disrepair decades ago.
Viktor chose it because it’s isolated, defensible, and holds the ledger that makes him dangerous.
He thinks he’s prepared for me and knows exactly how I’ll respond to threats against my family.
He’s wrong.
St. Sebastian’s Cathedral appears through the windshield as we turn onto the final street, its Gothic spires reaching toward a sky that’s just starting to lighten with approaching dawn.
Stained glass windows that were once clean are now dark and broken, and the stone walls are covered with graffiti and years of neglect.
And somewhere inside that crumbling building, my son is waiting.
Marco pulls the SUV to a stop two blocks away, out of sight of the cathedral’s main entrance. The backup teams will already be moving into position, surrounding the building from all angles, cutting off any escape routes Viktor might try to use.
I turn to Scarlett one last time before we move out. Her face is pale in the dim light but her eyes meet mine without flinching.
“Remember what I taught you. Stay with the medical team until Marco signals that Luca is secure. Then and only then do you come in.”
“I remember.”
“And if things go wrong—”
“I run. I grab Luca and I run.” Her voice trembles slightly. “I promise.”
I lean over and kiss her, hard and brief, trying to pour everything I feel into that single moment of contact, that feels like a last. When I pull back, her eyes are bright and glistening with tears.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you too. Now let’s go get our son.”
I step out of the SUV into the cold morning air. Around me, my men are assembling, weapons drawn and ready.
The cathedral stands in the distance.
Time to end this.