Chapter 6 - The Breach at Gold Coast
"Sienna isn't in the penthouse!" Lorenzo roared into the phone, standing up so fast his heavy armchair slammed against the wall. "She’s with me!"
"It wasn't a hit on her, Boss!" Matthew shouted over the sound of wind and siren wails in the background. "It was a message! They blew the front lobby with C4! They thought she was inside! They're hitting all your prime assets tonight!"
Lorenzo ended the call, his breathing deep and ragged. The dark rage in his chest was absolute.
He turned to Sienna. She was standing, her face drained of color, her hand clutching the edge of the mahogany table.
"My brother," she choked out, terror seizing her lungs. "Lorenzo, Leo is at Northwestern!"
"Matthew already reinforced the hospital," Lorenzo said, his voice deadly calm as he grabbed her hand, dragging her toward the rear exit of the club. "We go now. You stay beside me."
They rushed down the private back staircase into the underground parking garage. Four black armored SUVs were idling, their engines humming in the dim concrete space. Eight heavily armed enforcers stepped out, forming a perimeter around Lorenzo and Sienna.
"Get her into the center vehicle," Lorenzo ordered Sal, his chief head of security. "We move in a convoy. If any vehicle attempts to cut us off, ram them off the road."
Sienna was pushed into the plush leather rear seat of the middle SUV. Lorenzo slid in beside her, pulling a sleek black assault rifle from beneath the floorboard, racking the bolt with a sharp metallic clack.
Sienna stared at the weapon, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. "Lorenzo..."
"Put this on," Lorenzo commanded, throwing a heavy kevlar vest over her head, tightening the side straps around her waist with practiced efficiency. "Keep your head down below the window line, no matter what you hear."
"What about you?" she whispered, looking at his dark silhouette.
Lorenzo turned to her, his long fingers cupping her jaw, forcing her to look into his pale eyes. "Nobody touches you, Sienna. Do you understand me? Nobody."
The convoy roared out of the subterranean garage into the torrential Chicago rain.
The streets of River North were slick and empty. The rain fell in sheets, blurring the neon signs of the city into streaks of red and blue. The lead SUV navigated the turns toward Michigan Avenue, heading toward the hospital district.
They were four blocks from Northwestern when the trap sprung.
A massive yellow garbage truck accelerated out of an alleyway, smashing violently into the side of the lead SUV. The impact flipped the heavy armored vehicle onto its side, sending sparks showering across the wet pavement.
"Ambush!" Sal yelled from the front seat, slamming on the brakes.
The rear SUV was instantly rammed from behind by a black pickup truck, blocking their retreat.
Automated gunfire shattered the night air.
Bullets rained down upon Lorenzo’s SUV like heavy hail, bouncing off the reinforced ballistic glass with deafening thuds.
Sienna screamed, ducking down onto the floorboards, covering her ears.
"Stay down!" Lorenzo shouted.
He threw the heavy door open, using the armored frame as a shield, and unleashed a devastating hail of suppressive fire into the darkness. The street erupted into a warzone. Muzzle flashes illuminated the storm, the heavy staccato of automatic weapons echoing off the skyscrapers of the Gold Coast.
Lorenzo moved with terrifying precision. He wasn't panicking; he was executing a tactical strategy he had rehearsed a thousand times. He neutralized two shooters advancing from the left alley, stepped out into the rain, and issued clear, lethal commands to his surviving men.
"Sal! Flank the pickup!" Lorenzo yelled over the roar of gunfire. "Clear the intersection!"
From across the street, sitting inside a dark sedan parked near an empty storefront, a man stepped out into the rain.
He wore a pristine white linen suit, entirely unbothered by the downpour. He held a silver engraved pistol in his right hand.
It was Hector Navarro.
"Lorenzo!" Hector shouted over the gunfire, his voice dripping with sadistic joy. "Did you miss us? Three years ago, we took your bride! Tonight, we take your whole city!"
Lorenzo’s eyes locked onto Hector. The memory of the car bomb on Michigan Avenue—the heat, the shattered glass, Sophia's lifeless hand—flooded his mind.
A dark, volcanic fury consumed Lorenzo's face.
"Protect the car!" Lorenzo roared to Sal.
Lorenzo abandoned his heavy rifle, drew two custom nickel-plated handguns from his shoulder holsters, and walked straight out into the middle of the rain-drenched street, heading directly toward Hector Navarro.
He didn't take cover. He didn't flinch as bullets whizzed past his ears. He walked like the Grim Reaper himself, firing with cold, surgical accuracy, dropping two of Hector’s bodyguards in mid-stride.
Inside the SUV, Sienna raised her head slightly above the window frame.
She watched through the rain-streaked, bullet-pocked glass as Lorenzo stepped into the line of fire. He was magnificent, terrifying, and completely reckless, driven by a ghost from his past.
Hector’s eyes widened in sudden panic. He hadn't expected Lorenzo to charge straight through a hail of bullets. He raised his silver pistol, aiming directly at Lorenzo's chest.
"Lorenzo, look out!" Sienna screamed from inside the car, her voice lost behind the thick ballistic glass.
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A lone gunman, perched on a fire escape above the alley, aimed his rifle at Lorenzo's back.
Sienna didn't think. She didn't calculate. Driven by a desperate, terrifying instinct to save the man who had brought her brother back to life, she reached for the door handle of the SUV.
