CHAPTER 9: SHADOWS IN THE PINES
The night erupted into chaos. Four blacked-out tactical trucks breached the clearing, their engines roaring like beasts in the dark. Six heavily armed mercenaries fanned out, moving in tight military formation toward the cabin.
Marco didn't wait for them to breach. Using the cabin's pre-rigged perimeter lights, he cut the main breaker, plunging the entire clearing into pitch blackness.
A flash-bang grenade shattered the front window, followed by a burst of automatic gunfire tearing through the wooden walls. But Marco was already outside, moving through the dense tree line like a wraith. He picked off the flankers methodically—not aiming to kill indiscriminately, but disabling communication rigs and targeting weapons with surgical efficiency.
A mercenary swung around a pine tree, raising a shotgun, but Marco closed the distance instantly, disarming the man and driving him into the frozen dirt with a crushing blow.
"Where is Rossi?" Marco whispered into the downed man's ear.
"He's in the command truck... at the logging road," the mercenary gasped.
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Suddenly, a heavy rifle round struck Marco’s tactical vest, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending him sprawling against the granite rock face. He rolled behind cover, coughing up blood, his ribs screaming in agony. Through the trees, he saw the lead truck idling near the logging trail. Salvatore Rossi had come to watch the execution personally.
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