Chapter 6 - The Siege of the EstateThe quiet pine forests surrounding the Falcone Estate were filled with the smell of gunpowder and burning rubber.
Two armored pickup trucks had rammed through the heavy iron front gates, shattering the concrete pillars. A dozen mercenaries in tactical gear were moving systematically through the ground floor of the grand stone house, executing any Falcone guard who remained standing.
In the basement beneath the study, five-year-old Mia sat huddled in a dark corner behind a steel workbench. She was clutching her thin teddy bear so hard her knuckles were white, her eyes wide with terror as the ceiling above shook with continuous explosions.
Rocco stood near the heavy reinforced steel door of the safe room, a blood-soaked bandage wrapped tightly around his left thigh. He had three magazines left for his assault rifle. His face was covered in soot and blood, but his eyes were hard as flint.
"Hold your breath, kiddo," Rocco said softly, looking back at Mia with a forced, grim smile. "Your uncle is coming. He never misses an appointment."
BOOM!
A shape-charge detonate against the outside hinges of the steel door. Sparks flew into the room, and the heavy metal frame buckled inward with a screeching metallic groan.
Through the cloud of smoke and dust, three mercenaries rushed into the room, their weapon lights cutting through the darkness.
Rocco fired, taking down the first two with rapid bursts to the chest. But the third mercenary fired back, two rounds tearing through Rocco’s body armor, slamming him back against the stone wall. Rocco slouched down, his weapon slipping from his lifeless fingers as blood pooled beneath him.
The smoke cleared.
Don Victor Moretti stepped slowly through the ruined doorway, holding his silver-plated cane in one hand and a gold-plated pistol in the other. He looked down at Rocco, then looked over at the tiny girl trembling in the corner.
"Such a waste of good men," Victor said softly, stepping over Rocco’s body. He walked over to Mia, leaning down so his wrinkled, cruel face was inches from hers.
"Hello, little granddaughter," Victor whispered, a terrifying grin spreading across his face. "You look just like your father. It's time to come home. You're going to help me finish your uncle's empire once and for all."
Mia didn't cry. She didn't scream.
She looked Victor straight in the eyes, pulled her hand out from under her blanket, and spat directly into his face.
Victor’s smile vanished. His face twisted into absolute rage. He raised his hand, sweeping the back of his hand toward her face—
CRASH!
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The heavy double-glass stained window at the top of the basement stairs shattered into ten thousand pieces.
A large commercial delivery truck had smashed directly through the stone wall of the ground floor above, crashing through the floorboards and dropping like a iron anvil into the center of the basement hall.
