Chapter 10 - The Ambush at the Railyard
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Midnight brought a freezing fog that rolled off the river, blanketing the abandoned railyard in a thick, eerie gray mist. Rusted train cars loomed like skeletal giants in the darkness.
Matteo walked alone down the center tracks, his footsteps crunching softly on the gravel. He wore a long black trench coat, hiding the tactical vest and the heavy weaponry strapped to his body.
He didn't need to see Victor’s men to know they were there. He could feel them. The subtle shift of gravel on the catwalks above. The faint metallic click of a rifle safety being disengaged. It was an ambush, exactly as he had expected.
“That’s far enough, ghost.”
The voice echoed from the fog. A massive spotlight suddenly snapped on, blinding Matteo and illuminating the clearing ahead.
Standing in the harsh light was Victor. He was wearing an expensive cashmere overcoat, holding a lit cigar. Beside him, two massive enforcers held Jimmy Alvarez on his knees. Jimmy’s face was badly bruised, his hands tied behind his back.
“Let the cook go, Victor,” Matteo said calmly, shielding his eyes from the glare. “This is between you and me.”
Victor laughed, a sharp, arrogant sound. “You must be joking. You break my men, humiliate my crew, and then demand favors? You're not the king of the waterfront anymore, Rossi. You're a relic. A dead man walking.”
“I warned your men to stay out of my neighborhood,” Matteo replied, his voice echoing across the empty yard. “You should have listened.”
“Kill him,” Victor snapped, waving his cigar dismissively.
Gunfire erupted from the darkness. Dozens of muzzle flashes lit up the train cars as Victor’s snipers opened fire from their elevated positions.
But Matteo was already moving.
He dove beneath a rusted flatbed car a fraction of a second before the gravel where he had been standing was shredded by bullets. As he slid through the mud, he pulled a flashbang grenade from his belt, ripped the pin with his teeth, and hurled it toward the spotlight.
The grenade detonated with a blinding flash and a deafening roar.
Victor’s men screamed in temporary blindness, the spotlight shattering into a thousand pieces. The railyard plunged back into darkness.
From the shadows atop a nearby grain silo, the deep, rhythmic boom of a heavy sniper rifle echoed. Dante had arrived.
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One of Victor’s enforcers holding Jimmy dropped instantly, a massive hole punched through his chest.
“Jimmy, run!” Matteo roared, emerging from the darkness like a demon, his assault rifle raised. The war had officially begun.
