Chapter 6 - Fire on the Lake
The Red Hook grain silo complex rose eighty feet above the frozen shoreline of Lake Michigan like a giant, rusting tomb.
Snow swept across the desolate concrete yard as four armored SUVs smashed through the outer chain-link fence, their headlights cutting through the blinding blizzard.
Intense gunfire immediately erupted from the high catwalks of the silo. Heavy caliber rounds rained down on the vehicles, sparking violently against the reinforced steel armor.
"Breaching squad, deploy smoke!" Vance roared through his tactical radio.
Thick grey canisters exploded across the yard, shrouding the facility in an impenetrable cloud of chemical fog.
Dominic leapt from his vehicle, his tactical rifle raised. He moved with terrifying, precision agility, leading his primary assault team through a blown-open side door into the dark, cavernous interior of the main grain facility.
The air inside was thick with dust, rust, and the metallic stench of cordite.
"Sweep the ground floor!" Dominic commanded into his comms. "Locate the fertilizer charges!"
A intense firefight broke out across the metal catwalks and rusted conveyor belts. The thunderous roar of automatic fire echoed deafeningly off the high concrete walls. Dominic moved like a phantom through the shadows, neutralizing four enemy gunmen with lethal, single-shot precision as he advanced toward the central control room.
On the third-floor catwalk, framed by the blue glow of emergency lights, stood Nikolai Rostova.
He was a thick-set man in his late fifties, his face scarred, holding a heavy detonator control box wired to three massive red industrial barrels situated on the main floor below.
"Vale!" Rostova screamed over the thunder of gunfire. "Look at what you've forced me to do! You took my shipping lines! You ruined my family!"
Dominic stepped out onto the central metal bridge, fifty feet above the concrete floor, his rifle pointed straight at Rostova’s chest. "It's over, Nikolai. Drop the detonator."
Rostova let out a wild, insane laugh, his thumb hovering over the red firing switch. "If I go down, Vale, I'm taking your primary terminal and half these docks with me! Your daughters will inherit ash!"
Before Rostova could press the switch, a red laser sight dotted the center of his forehead.
A single, suppressed gunshot cracked from the upper rafters high above.
Marcus Vance, positioned on the roof trusses, had taken the shot.
The round pierced Rostova’s skull instantly. The syndicate boss crumpled backward over the metal railing, falling three stories down onto the concrete floor below, the detonator slipping from his lifeless fingers and shattering into pieces on the stone.
The remaining mercenaries tossed their weapons down, surrendering instantly as Moretti contractors swarmed the facility, securing the fertilizer charges and clearing the building.
Dominic lowered his rifle, standing on the high metal bridge, listening to the quiet radio reports confirming the total neutralization of the threat.
It was over. The war that had haunted his life for five years was finally, completely finished.
He pulled off his tactical helmet, letting the cold air cool his sweaty brow, and pulled his personal satellite phone from his vest pocket.
He dialed a single number.
Across the city, in the quiet, safe library of the Lake Forest estate, Emily answered on the first ring.
"Dominic?" her trembling voice came through the line.
May you like
Dominic looked out through the broken high windows of the grain silo at the distant, glittering lights of the Chicago skyline rising above the dark lake.
"I'm coming home, Emily," Dominic whispered softly. "I'm coming home."
