Chapter 6 - The Depot
The Mercer Freight central truck depot was a ten-acre blacktop yard filled with seventy semi-trucks, surrounding a brick administrative building.
Rain had cleared, leaving the pavement slick under a gray, overcast sky. Eight black sedans were parked in a defensive circle around the main entrance. Two dozen men in leather jackets, carrying rifles and handguns, walked the yard, threatening the terrified mechanics and office staff who were huddled against the fence.
At the center of the yard stood Antonio Moretti—a fat, greasy man in his fifties with a thick gold chain over his shirt and a cigar clutched between his yellowed teeth.
Suddenly, the heavy iron gates of the depot were smashed open as three massive, custom armored SUVs tore into the yard, tires screaming on the wet asphalt. They executed a perfect tactical stop, blocking the depot’s exit.
The doors opened, and twenty heavily armed, highly trained security operatives from Vale Logistics spilled out, taking up covered firing positions behind the armored vehicles within three seconds.
The entire yard fell into a tense, breathless standoff.
From the rear passenger door of the lead SUV, Gabriel Vale stepped out into the damp air. He unbuttoned his coat, his expression completely relaxed, as if he were attending a afternoon meeting.
Behind him, sitting safely inside the bulletproof glass of the SUV, Claire watched with her heart in her throat.
Antonio Moretti spat his cigar onto the ground, stepping forward with four armed bodyguards behind him. “Vale! You’re trespassing on Moretti turf!”
“Mercer Freight belongs to me, Antonio,” Gabriel said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the quiet yard. “The debt was settled this morning.”
“Richard Mercer owed me two million!” Moretti barked. “He gave me the deed rights to this yard, signed over by his daughter! Hand the girl over, Vale, and we can walk away clean!”
Gabriel took three slow steps forward, stopping in the open, completely unbothered by the weapons pointed at his chest.
“Claire Mercer is under my personal protection,” Gabriel stated, his tone dropping into a deadly freezing cold. “She is an employee of Vale Logistics. Anyone who mentions her name again will not leave this yard alive.”
Moretti laughed—a greasy, arrogant sound. “You think you own this city, Vale? You think you can protect some fat, useless girl just because—?”
Before Moretti could finish his sentence, Gabriel moved with terrifying, instantaneous speed.
He closed the ten-foot distance between them before Moretti’s guards could even raise their rifles. Gabriel’s left hand clamped around Moretti’s throat like a steel vise, shutting off his airway. In the same motion, Gabriel pulled his custom pistol from beneath his coat and pressed the cold steel barrel directly under Moretti’s chin.
The four bodyguards panicked, raising their guns, but twenty red laser sights instantly painted their chests from Gabriel’s tactical team.
“Drop them,” Marcus ordered from the flank, his voice cold. “Now.”
The bodyguards looked at the red dots covering their hearts, looked at their boss choking in Gabriel’s grip, and slowly lowered their weapons to the asphalt.
Gabriel leaned in close to Moretti’s turning-purple face, his voice a chilling whisper that only the mob boss could hear.
“She is brilliant, she is brave, and she is worth ten of you,” Gabriel spat softly. “If I ever see your men near her, near my home, or near any property associated with her name, I will wipe your entire family off the Chicago map. Do you understand me?”
Moretti nodded frantically, gasping for air.
Gabriel shoved him hard onto the wet ground. “Get out of my yard.”
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Moretti scrambled backward, hauling himself into his sedan, and within thirty seconds, all eight Moretti vehicles sped out of the depot in embarrassment and defeat.
Inside the SUV, Claire leaned her forehead against the cool glass, tears of overwhelming relief streaming down her cheeks as she watched Gabriel walk back toward her, undefeated and absolute.
