Chapter 7 - The Battle for Highland Park
Damian didn't wait for Victor to pull the trigger.
He kicked a heavy stone vase off the balcony railing, sending it crashing down directly onto the head of the lead mercenary below!
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
At the exact same instant, Frank and three surviving Caruso guards opened fire from the west archway, creating a devastating crossfire that tore through Victor’s vanguard.
Damian vaulted over the carved stone banister, dropping fifteen feet straight down into the center of the foyer, landing on his feet with lethal grace. Before the closest mercenary could adjust his aim, Damian drove the barrel of his weapon beneath the man’s chin and pulled the trigger.
The grand hall exploded into an inferno of muzzle flashes, roaring gunfire, and shattering stone.
Damian moved through the smoke like an engine of retribution. Every shot he fired was calculated, precise, and fatal. He took two rounds to his Kevlar vest—the impacts feeling like heavy hammer blows against his ribs—but he didn't even slow down.
“Kill him!” Victor shrieked, backing away toward the ruined front doors as his men fell around him like cut wheat. “Shoot him!”
Damian advanced through the firefight, discarding his empty submachine gun and drawing his heavy SIG Sauer pistol in one fluid motion. He eliminated two more shooters clearing the hallway, his boots splashing through puddles of rain and blood on the white marble.
Within three minutes, the gunfire died down into a haunting, heavy silence.
Ten of Victor’s men lay dead across the foyer floor. Frank and the Caruso guards were securing the perimeter, wounded but victorious.
Victor Vance stumbled backward onto the rain-slicked portico outside, his gold revolver shaking violently in his hand. He looked around in absolute terror, realizing that his entire execution squad had been annihilated in under four minutes.
Damian walked slowly out into the rain, his dark hair plastered against his forehead, his suit soaked, his eyes burning with cold murder.
“Damian… wait!” Victor stammered, raising his gold gun with both trembling hands. “We’re cousins! We share Caruso blood! We can make a deal! I’ll give you half of the South Side docks!”
BANG!
Damian fired once. The bullet shattered Victor’s right wrist, sending the gold revolver spinning across the wet cobblestones.
Victor screamed in agony, clutching his bleeding arm, falling to his knees in the pouring rain. “Please, Damian! It was Marco’s idea! Marco called me! He said you were weak!”
Damian stopped two feet away from his cousin. He lowered the barrel of his pistol until it rested directly against the center of Victor’s forehead.
“Marco was a traitor,” Damian said softly over the sound of the falling rain. “And you were stupid enough to answer his call.”
“Wait! What about Keller?” Victor gasped frantically, tears mixing with the rainwater on his face. “Dr. Keller in Zurich! He has the original hospital records! If I die, his associates will release the files to the press! They’ll ruin Julian’s name!”
Damian leaned down, his face inches from Victor’s terrified eyes.
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“Dr. Keller is already being hunted by my men in Switzerland,” Damian whispered. “His flight leaves Zurich at midnight. He won't make it to the gate.”
BANG.
