Chapter 7 - The Ambush on the Expressway
The victory at the summit was sweet, but the streets of New York never stayed quiet for long.
At 11:30 p.m., Marco’s armored black Cadillac Escalade sped south along the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway through a torrential downpour. Sofia sat beside him in the plush leather backseat, watching the city lights blur across the rain-streaked window.
Up front, Luca was driving, his eyes constantly scanning the rearview mirrors. A second security SUV trailed fifty yards behind them.
“You should take a few days off,” Marco said softly, looking at Sofia. “Go visit your mother in Queens. I’ve already arranged for her medical treatments to be covered by my private physicians at Mount Sinai.”
Sofia turned to him, her eyes wide with shock and gratitude. “Marco... you didn't have to do that.”
“Your father paid a debt he didn't owe because of my family,” Marco replied, his voice gentle—a rare warmth breaking through his hardened exterior. “It’s the least I can do. Besides, I owe you my life twice over.”
Before Sofia could respond, Luca shouted a curse from the front seat.
“Boss! Incoming!”
From an entrance ramp ahead, a massive flatbed semi-truck suddenly swerved across three lanes of traffic, jackknifing across the highway and blocking all four lanes in a screech of burning rubber and flying sparks.
Luca slammed on the brakes. The heavy Escalade skidded across the wet asphalt, the anti-lock brakes vibrating violently beneath the floorboards.
Behind them, a black pickup truck smashed violently into the rear security SUV, sending Marco’s escort vehicle spinning into the concrete median barrier in a cloud of smoke and crushed metal.
“Ambush!” Luca roared, pulling his automatic pistol from his shoulder holster. “Moretti didn't wait for midnight! He hired freelance shooters!”
Automatic rifle fire erupted from the flatbed truck ahead. Bullets peppered the armored windshield of the Escalade, spider-webbing the thick reinforced glass into milky white patterns.
“Stay down!” Marco commanded, throwing his body over Sofia, pinning her securely to the floorboards of the backseat as bullets tore into the vehicle’s body panels.
“Luca, back it up!” Marco ordered over the deafening roar of gunfire.
“Transmission’s shot, Boss!” Luca yelled back, firing through the driver’s side firing port. “Coolant line is ruptured—we’re a sitting duck!”
Sofia’s heart raced, but her mind remained razor-sharp. She looked through the cracked side window.
“Marco! The maintenance access ramp!” she shouted over the din of bullets. “Thirty feet to our right! There’s an iron stairway leading down to the warehouse district below the expressway!”
Marco glanced toward the gap. Through the driving rain and muzzle flashes, he spotted the narrow emergency gate Sofia was pointing to.
“Luca, smoke grenade!” Marco shouted.
Luca pulled a tactical canister from between the front seats, cracked the pin, and shoved it through the firing port. A thick, billowing cloud of gray and white smoke instantly engulfed the highway, blinding the shooters on the flatbed truck.
“Go! Go! Go!” Marco roared.
He kicked the heavy passenger door open. Grabbing Sofia by the hand, Marco surged out into the pouring rain. Luca covered their flank, firing three rapid bursts into the smoke to suppress the attackers.
Rain soaked Sofia’s hair and dress in seconds as they sprinted across the slick asphalt toward the highway railing. Bullets whizzed past their ears, pinging off the steel guardrails.
Marco vaulted over the railing first, landing hard on the iron platform of the emergency fire escape below. He turned and caught Sofia as she jumped, his strong arms wrapping around her waist, breaking her fall effortlessly against his chest.
Luca vaulted down behind them, gasping for breath, clutching his left arm where a graze had torn through his leather jacket. “They’re coming down the ramp! At least six of them!”
“Move down!” Marco ordered.
They scrambled down the narrow metal staircase, spiraling into the dark industrial alleyway beneath the elevated expressway. The roar of traffic above was replaced by the deafening sound of rain beating against metal corrugated roofs and rusted dumpsters.
At the bottom of the stairs, two mercenaries in dark rain gear emerged from the alley’s entrance, their submachine guns raised.
Marco didn't hesitate. With his vision fully adapted to the dark, he fired twice through the sheets of rain. Both targets dropped instantly to the wet cobblestones.
“Down the alley!” Sofia urged, pointing toward an open garage door across the street. “My father used to work on this block! That old auto shop connects to the rail yard!”
Marco looked at her, his jaw set with ruthless determination. “Lead the way.”
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They dashed across the flooded street, slipping through the side door of the dark, cavernous auto shop just as more gunfire chewed up the brickwork behind them.
***
