Chapter 2 - SHADOWS OF THE VALENTI EMPIRE"Who the hell are you?" Calder snarled, his face twisting with rage as he pressed his back against the counter partition, using his wounded subordinate as human cover for a split second before shoving him aside. The other two gunmen fanned out instantly, dropping into tactical stances. These weren't street thugs; these were corporate executioners—clean, disciplined, and lethal.
"She's a dead woman," the third heavy hissed, raising a submachine gun.
"Wrong," I muttered, rolling to my left as a burst of suppressed fire chewed through the neon 'OPEN' sign in the window, showering the floor with colored glass.
I scrambled behind the heavy industrial ice machine, kicking off my non-slip diner shoes. They were too clumsy for this. Barefoot on the slick, water-drenched tiles gave me traction.
Adrian dragged himself across the floor, leaving a thick smear of crimson, until he reached the heavy metal frame of the kitchen swinging doors. He pulled himself up by the handle, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Calder didn't come for me because of the real estate deals," Adrian rasped, his voice cutting through the ringing in my ears. He kept his eyes on Calder’s men, who were creeping forward, dividing to flank the counter. "He came because I found the ledger. The company isn't just shipping freight, Elena. They’re moving them."
I didn't need to ask who them was. In the underworld of Chicago, cargo that doesn't breathe until it reaches international waters is the most lucrative trade of all. Human trafficking on an industrial scale, masked behind Valenti Logistics and shipping conglomerates.
"And you brought your mess to my diner?" I called out, snapping off two rapid shots around the corner of the ice machine.
One of the gunmen grunted, ducking as a bullet punched through the drywall a hair's breadth from his ear.
"I didn't know you were here!" Adrian coughed, blood bubbling at the corner of his mouth. "When my security detail went dark, yours was the only neutral drop zone within three miles. I needed a phone. I needed a ghost."
"Well, you found one," I said. "And she's pissed off."
Calder shouted over the hum of the dying refrigerator. "Flush her out! Burn the place down if you have to! The city police are twenty minutes out, but we own the precinct captain. We have all the time in the world!"
"You think the police are your only problem, Calder?" I shouted back, stepping out from behind the ice machine and firing a double-tap into the ceiling overhead. Plaster rained down on his expensive camel coat.
Calder flinched, shielding his head. "Kill her! Do it now!"
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The two remaining gunmen charged forward in a synchronized breach, guns raised, expecting a cornered waitress.
They found a ghost holding a loaded gun, and she was done hiding.
