Chapter 6 - The Trap
The rain returned to Chicago with violent fury as a fleet of three black armored SUVs tore down the interstate toward the industrial district along the river.
Roman sat in the rear seat of the lead vehicle, checking the action on his sleek black pistol. Antonio sat beside him, monitoring a GPS tracking grid on a tactical tablet.
“Marcus activated a burner phone five minutes ago,” Antonio said. “He pinged a tower near the old iron warehouse on 8th Street. He called Dominic Vane directly. He’s selling Vane our master logistics encryption codes in exchange for safe passage out of the country.”
“Is he alone?” Roman asked coldly.
“Vane sent a heavy security detail to escort him,” Antonio replied, his face grim. “At least a dozen armed mercenaries are inside that warehouse.”
Roman racked the slide of his handgun. “Good. I won't have to hunt them down separately.”
Suddenly, Roman’s personal phone buzzed in his pocket. It was the private line connected to the estate’s secure panic room where Maya and Ellie were supposed to be locked away.
Roman answered immediately. “Maya?”
A rough, taunting voice came through the speaker instead.
“Hello, Don DeLuca.”
Roman’s blood turned to liquid nitrogen. It was Dominic Vane.
“You thought you were clever, locking your little maid and her bastard kid in your mansion,” Vane sneered over the static. “Did you really think Marcus didn't have the emergency override codes to your estate’s safe rooms? He built them, Roman.”
Roman’s breath hitched. “Vane… if you touch that child—”
“I already have her,” Vane cut in, letting out a cruel, raspy laugh. “My boys pulled the girl out of the house while your main security detail was busy chasing Marcus’s decoy car. If you want little Ellie back alive, Roman, you come into the 8th Street warehouse alone. No cops. No army. Just you.”
The line went dead.
Roman stared at the dark phone screen. The air in the armored SUV felt utterly suffocating.
“Boss?” Antonio asked nervously, seeing the terrifying expression on Roman’s face. “What happened? What did Vane say?”
“They grabbed Ellie,” Roman whispered, his voice trembling with a terrifying, unholy rage.
May you like
He looked out the rain-slicked window as the massive, rusting silhouette of the waterfront warehouse appeared through the storm.
“Kill the headlights,” Roman commanded his men, his voice dropping into the terrifying register of a man who had accepted his own mortality. “We go in hard.”
