Page 56 of Rebel

No debate, no questions.Just three nods and we moved.

I slipped between pallets, using the cover to approach the stairs leading to the observation platform.A burst of gunfire erupted from the far side of the warehouse -- no longer silenced.The element of surprise was officially gone.

“Contact,” crackled through my comm.“Heavy resistance at the north entrance.”

The guard on the walkway shouted something in Italian, gesturing wildly to the men below.I aimed, exhaled half a breath, and squeezed.His head snapped back, body crumpling against the railing before sliding down in a heap.

“Moving up,” I reported, then sprinted for the stairs.

The warehouse exploded into chaos.Gunfire echoed off concrete walls.Men shouted in three different languages.From my elevated position, I could see Alexei’s team pushing through from the west, methodically dropping Moretti soldiers who scrambled for cover.

My teammates had split as planned, flanking the main floor from opposite sides.The Russians fought with ruthless efficiency -- two shots per target, no wasted ammunition.Our club members brought a more aggressive approach, but the results were the same.Bodies hitting concrete.

I tracked movement below -- a Moretti lieutenant I recognized from surveillance photos.Marco, Salvatore Moretti’s nephew.He was shouting into a phone, presumably calling for backup.

Not today.

I lined up the shot, but a burst of gunfire forced me to duck behind a metal filing cabinet.Bullets pinged off the walkway around me.I rolled to a new position, came up firing, and caught a glimpse of my attacker dropping behind some equipment.

“Rebel, status?”Alexei’s voice in my ear.

“Pinned on the walkway.Target is Marco Moretti, northeast corner.”

A pause, then: “Moving to support.”

I risked a glance over the railing and spotted Marco again, now trying to access what looked like a safe built into the wall.Whatever was in there, we couldn’t let him retrieve it.

Ignoring the continued fire from my hidden attacker, I steadied my AR-15 and focused.Three breaths.In.Out.In.

I squeezed the trigger.Marco jerked, stumbled.But he wasn’t down.My shot had caught his shoulder instead of center mass.Fuck.

He looked up, spotted me, and dove behind a concrete support pillar.The man was wounded but still dangerous.

Movement caught my attention -- Alexei appeared at the far end of the floor, moving with startling speed for someone his size.He fired twice as he advanced, dropping a Moretti soldier who popped up from behind a processing table.

My hidden attacker chose that moment to make another attempt.He rose from cover, assault rifle raised toward me.I twisted, brought my weapon to bear, but he had the advantage.

A single shot cracked through the warehouse.The man’s chest exploded in a spray of red, his finger twitching on the trigger and sending a harmless burst into the ceiling as he fell.

I glanced toward the source of the shot.One of our guys -- Chaos -- nodded once from his position by the loading dock before turning to engage another target.

“Thanks,” I muttered, though he couldn’t hear me.

Below, Alexei had reached Marco’s position.The wounded Moretti lieutenant fired wildly with a handgun, forcing Alexei into cover.I used the distraction to descend the stairs, moving quickly but carefully, keeping my rifle trained on Marco’s last position.

“He’s trying to access the safe,” I called to Alexei as I reached the bottom of the stairs.

Alexei nodded once.“Important?”

“Must be.Documentation, maybe cash, perhaps client lists.”

“We take it,” he decided.

Marco chose that moment to make a desperate move.He lunged from behind the pillar, firing rapidly as he tried to reach a door marked “EXIT.”Two shots went wide.The third caught one of the Russians in the leg.He went down with a grunt but continued firing from his kneeling position.

I stepped out, planted my feet, and put multiple shots center mass into Marco’s chest.He staggered, looked at me with genuine surprise, then collapsed face-first onto the concrete floor.

“Clear this section,” Alexei ordered, moving toward the safe.

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