Chapter 8: The Breach
The front steel door gave way with a deafening screech as a tactical breaching charge blew the hinges inward. Smoke and drywall dust flooded the corridor.
“Clear left!” a mercenary shouted, sweeping his rifle across the empty industrial ovens.
From the rafters above, Gabriel dropped silently behind the lead gunman, disarming him in a single fluid motion and using his body as a shield as the second mercenary opened fire. Two sharp, suppressed cracks echoed through the haze, and both hostiles collapsed to the floor.
Before the remaining team could adjust their firing line, a black blur exploded from the shadows.
Bruno struck the third mercenary with bone-crushing momentum, pinning him to the concrete floor and tearing the rifle from his grip. The man shrieked in terror as the massive Rottweiler neutralized him without hesitation.
“Shoot the damn dog!” Marco screamed from the loading dock, raising his weapon toward Bruno.
“Marco!” Gabriel’s voice boomed like thunder through the dusty warehouse.
Marco froze, spinning around to see Gabriel stepping out of the smoke, his weapon aimed squarely at Marco’s chest. The remaining mercenaries hesitated, recognizing the man who had commanded the city’s underworld for over a decade.
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“Drop your weapons and walk out,” Gabriel told the mercenaries, his voice devoid of anger, carrying only cold authority. “Salvatore pays you to kill rivals, not to die for a coward who poisons little girls. Walk away, and live.”
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