My legs hold.
"Breach."
The night explodes.
Gunfire erupts from three directions simultaneously. The north entrance goes first—a flash of light and the sound of adoor being blown off its hinges. The east entrance follows a half-second later. Shouts. Screams. The sharp crack of automatic weapons.
Valentino moves ahead of me, his weapon raised. Nico flanks my right side. Two of our men fall in behind us, covering our approach to the south entrance.
The loading dock doors are closed. Rusted. Heavy.
One of our men steps forward with a breaching charge.
"Clear," he says, and we all step back.
The explosion tears through the metal like paper.
Smoke billows out. Through it, I see movement. Two shapes. The guards Liam's thermal imaging detected.
Valentino fires twice.
Both shapes drop.
We move through the smoke, into the building. The smell hits me first—old blood, rotting meat, industrial chemicals. The meatpacking plant hasn't been used in years, but the stench of death still lingers in the walls.
Or maybe that's fresh.
I walk.
Every step is a victory.
Gunfire echoes from somewhere above us. Pietro's team engaging the guards on the main floor. More shots from the east. Nico's men clearing their sector.
We reach the corridor.
Dark. Narrow. The kind of place where ambushes happen.
Valentino goes first. I follow. Nico covers our rear.
The stairs appear ahead. Metal. Descending into darkness.
"I'm going down," I say.
I grip the railing and take the first step.
Antonella
The door slams open.
I jerk awake, my head pounding where the water bottle connected with my temple. The room spins. Dim light. The smell of rust and decay.
Scar stands in the doorway.
His face is twisted with rage. Something has gone wrong. I can see it in the way his shoulders are tight, the way his hand keeps moving to the gun at his hip.
"They found us," he snarls.
My heart leaps. Bruno.
