Chapter 12 - The Trap at Dock 4
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At 2:00 AM, six black SUVs tore down the highway toward the Eastern Docks—territory belonging to the Valenti Family.
Wesley sat in the lead vehicle, holding an assault rifle across his knees. Beside him, Marco was making final adjustments to their tactical earpieces.
“Don Valenti is at the illegal casino behind the fish processing plant,” Marco reported. “He has at least thirty men inside.”
“Good,” Wesley said without a trace of hesitation. “I don't want any of them walking out.”
The vehicles cut their headlights as they drifted into the rain-soaked industrial district. The plant stood near the water, surrounded by chain-link fences and patrolled by armed Valenti guards smoking under plastic awnings.
Wesley slammed his door open, stepping out into the pouring rain.
“Move in,” he commanded.
Before the guards could even raise their weapons, Wesley’s men swept forward with lethal efficiency. Silenced shots echoed softly against the rain as the outer perimeter was cleared in under two minutes.
Wesley kicked open the heavy iron doors of the processing plant, stepping into the dimly lit hallway smelling of salt and blood.
In the central room, surrounded by poker tables and stacks of cash, sat Don Donato Valenti—a fat, arrogant man in his sixties holding a thick cigar.
When he saw Wesley Cain walk through the door covered in rain and blood, the cigar slipped from his fingers onto the felt table.
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“Cain?” Valenti stammered, scrambling backward. “What... what is this?”
“You tried to kill my sister, Donato,” Wesley said, raising his rifle.
