Page 56 of Unworthy Ties
The night air was thick with tension as we gathered in the dimly lit garage, the flickering bulb casting long shadows that seemed to dance with a life of their own. Emilio paced the floor, his brow furrowed, while Ettore checked and rechecked his gear with meticulous precision. Vincenzo stood by the entrance, his gaze fixed on the darkened street beyond, as if he could sense the danger lurking just beyond the edge of the light.
I was reading off a checklist, making sure every detail was covered before we stormed the warehouse—flashlights, comms, lock-picking tools, and weapons. Each name I called out echoed in the tense silence, a grim litany that underscored the stakes.One wrong move, one hesitation, and Gabriella could be lost forever.
“Marco, you grab the wires and the crowbar,” I instructed.
Marco’s face had gone pale the moment I mentioned he was coming with us, the weight of fear obvious in his eyes. But I didn’t spare him a second of sympathy. After all, it was his lapse that had let Gabriella slip from our grasp in the first place.
As we finalized our preparations, a chill wind swept through the garage, causing the overhead door to rattle ominously. I could almost hear the echoes of the past whispering through the cracks, tales of betrayal and vengeance hanging in the air like a noose.
“Let’s head out, then,” I said, forcing the words out despite the knot of dread tightening in my stomach.
Emilio walked to the driver’s side, but Felix stopped him. “C’mon, man. You've got to let me drive. I can’t be feeling sick before this!”
My brother could get carsick from a drive around the block. Reluctantly, Emilio stepped aside, his eyes narrowing as Felix slid into the driver’s seat. The engine roared to life, a sound that seemed too loud for the stillness of the night. As we pulled away, the headlights pierced the darkness ahead.
The warehouse loomed ahead, a hulking shadow against the night sky. We slowed the car, stopping a good distance away, hidden in the cover of nearby trees and abandoned crates. The faint hum of distant streetlights barely touched the building, and in that darkness, we were ghosts: unseen, unheard, and ready.
I scanned the perimeter through the windshield, noting guard posts and flickering interior lights, committing every detail to memory. Every instinct screamed that one wrong move could blow our cover, which also meant Gabriella’s chance at freedom.
The plan was silencers first. We needed to take out as many as possible before being seen. A heavy silence settled over us asI reiterated our strategy in whispered tones. Each word felt like a weight, pressing down on us as the tension thickened in the air.
Through the shadows, we spotted the first guard before he had any idea we were there, a lone silhouette against the faint glow of a security light. Ettore raised his gun and pulled the trigger, the sound muffled but still sharp in the stillness. The guard crumpled to the ground, swallowed by the shadows as if he had never existed.
I waved us forward, and we slowly began taking down the outside perimeter. Step by step, we moved like ghosts, each shot precise, each movement calculated. The remaining guards never knew what hit them, their patrols interrupted before they could raise the alarm. Shadows became our allies, cloaking us as we swept around the perimeter, inching closer to the warehouse doors where Gabriella waited.
When we reached the warehouse, we could no longer hide under the shroud of night. Sirens blared, alerting everyone inside of our presence.
“Let’s move,” Vincenzo said, ripping open the front door.
Our group stormed inside, where enemies were already awaiting in the dim light, their faces obscured, but their intentions clear. The corridor broke out in gunfire as chaos erupted around us. Bullets whizzed past, ricocheting off metal surfaces and shattering glass. My heart raced in time with the crack of gunfire, adrenaline surging through my veins.
I took men down one by one, trying to focus on the task at hand, each shot measured, each movement deliberate. The shouts and the chaos blurred around me, but my eyes were locked on the path ahead, scanning for the route to Gabriella.
“We’re not doing so hot over here,” Felix said, radioing for backup.
I glanced to my left, where I saw my brother and Marco struggling against an encroaching wave of hostile figures emerging from the shadows.
Then, the world slowed to a cruel crawl. A bullet tore through the air, striking Marco in the skull with a sickening finality. Blood spattered against the wall, painting the concrete crimson.
It left Felix alone to face certain death. Guilt clawed at me as I had momentarily diverted from my true mission—rescuing Gabriella—to save my brother, each step toward Felix feeling like a betrayal of the one I was supposed to protect above all else.
I raised my gun and pulled the trigger, my shots blending into the cacophony of destruction and despair. Each bullet found its mark, but the chaos only seemed to grow more intense, the shadows shifting around us like living nightmares.
Felix and I moved as one, our movements synchronized despite the chaos, each shot and strike a seamless extension of the other, cutting through the wave of enemies that threatened to overwhelm us. It was cliche, but our twin genetics came alive in that moment, a bond that would forever tether us.
“Thanks,” Felix said as I took out the last man without hesitation.
“No problem. Let’s keep moving.”
We glanced back over our shoulders, and it was clear our three friends had the situation under control. Perhaps somewhat foolishly, Felix and I rushed down the hallway without looking back, driven by the urgency of our quest.
The low hum of machinery vibrated through the floors, a stark reminder of the industrial monotony that surrounded us. My heart raced, a drum pounding out a frantic rhythm as we pressed deeper into the bowels of the warehouse. Finally, we reached a large open area, with scaffolding everywhere.
The scaffolding rose like a jagged metal forest, a labyrinth of beams and platforms crisscrossing at dizzying angles. Rustedjoints groaned under the weight of forgotten machinery, while chains dangled from overhead rafters like ominous pendulums.
“I didn’t think you’d find me so quickly,” a voice echoed from around the room. “And I certainly didn’t think you’d get past these doors. My mistake.”
I scanned the tangle of metal beams and platforms, my eyes narrowing as they darted across the scaffolding. There—high above, precariously balanced—Salvatore Romano stood, one arm wrapped tightly around Gabriella.
