14
DANTE
After strong intel came in regarding Antonelli Gerard and his storage and communications site near the port, I knew we had to move.
The safehouse sits sheltered in darkness far from the reach of most sources, but the guy I have assured me this was where to hit next.
I'm not sure if Gerard is in the house, but I intend to demolish it and leave no survivors.
I drive with Enzo in the passenger seat and Rico following behind with Marco and two others.
The streets are dark and quiet at this hour. Most of the port closes down after sunset, leaving only the overnight crews and the occasional patrol.
That makes it easier to do the job I need to do, though without knowing what we're walking into,
I can't judge the wisdom of this trip yet.
All I know is this place is owned by Gerard and is a likely hiding spot.
We park a few blocks away for anonymity and approach on foot.
With only two entrances, I figure the four of us can cover it.
The place is small, not large enough for a full army, and with the element of surprise, we're likely to take most of the men out before they even reach for their weapons. As long as we keep one to milk for intel.
"Marco, head around back, take Rico with you. Enzo and I will go in the front. Don't breach until you hear gunshots or my shout." I look him dead in the eye before he nods and gestures for Rico to follow in, and we creep closer.
Slipping into the house is simple.
They haven't even locked the doors, and when we stalk in, it's almost dead silent.
The interior is dark too, except for a light coming from a room at the end of the hallway out of which voices drift toward us.
There are at least three men, maybe more.
I signal to Enzo with two fingers over my shoulder curling slowly, and we move forward stealthily.
The floorboards creak despite our attempts to stay quiet, but it doesn't seem to draw any unwanted attention.
We reach the doorway and I peek inside.
Four men sit around a table playing cards.
Weapons rest on the table within easy reach.
Crates are stacked against the far wall, marked with shipping codes that mean nothing to anyone who doesn’t know what they contain.
I step into the room with my weapon raised and Enzo follows me in pattern. "Nobody move," I grunt, but they're stupid men. Foolish and impulsive.
Two of them react instantly, reaching for their guns.
I fire twice and drop them both before they can aim, and the third man flips the table and uses it for cover.
The fourth runs toward the back door, but Enzo fires and catches him in the leg.
He goes down hard and lies there writhing while my boys break down the back door and burst through.
The man behind the table returns fire and bullets tear through the air and slam into the wall behind me.
