Chapter 7 - The Syndicate's Deadliest Hitman Steps Out of the Shadows
The convoy halted half a mile from the Coatesville Foundry—a massive, decaying
industrial graveyard of rusted iron and shattered skylights surrounded by high
barbed-wire fences.
Moretti had turned the abandoned factory into a fortress. Over thirty armed
cartel mercenaries patrolled the perimeter with thermal scopes and automatic
rifles.
Dominic stepped out into the mud. He stripped off his soaked overcoat, revealing
a combat harness loaded with magazines and tactical blades.
“Boss, there are too many of them,” Marco warned, scanning the thermal readings
on his tablet. “We should wait for reinforcements from South Philly. It’ll take
forty minutes.”
“She doesn't have forty minutes,” Dominic replied, his voice chillingly
absolute. “Every second Sophie is in that room, she is terrified. We strike
now.”
From the shadows behind the rusted loading docks emerged a towering
figure—Viktor ‘The Ghost’ Reznov, an infamous former black-ops operative who had
owed Dominic his life for a decade.
“You called, Valente?” Viktor spoke with a heavy Russian accent, cocking a
suppressed sniper rifle.
“Take out the rooftop snipers,” Dominic ordered. “Leave no one standing. Anyone
who raises a gun dies.”
“Consider it done,” Viktor whispered, vanishing back into the darkness like
smoke.
Seconds later, muffled thuds echoed from the foundry roof. One by one, Moretti’s
May you like
lookout guards collapsed into the shadows without making a sound.
Dominic raised his weapon. “Move in.”
