Chapter 14 - The Descent into Milan
The jet touched down on a private tarmac outside Milan under a torrential downpour. Black armored SUVs were waiting on the runway, their engines idling in the rain. Dante and a squad of six elite tactical guards stepped out into the biting wind, moving with swift, synchronized precision.
They arrived at the Milan logistics hub—an ancient, fortified stone palazzo nestled deep within the old cobblestone streets of the city. The heavy wrought-iron gates had been blasted open, and the courtyard was littered with shattered glass and abandoned weapons.
Dante drew his weapon, motioning his men forward as they breached the grand arched entryway.
The interior was eerily silent. The grand marble lobby, usually bustling with security personnel and couriers, was completely deserted. Only the sound of dripping water and distant thunder echoed through the halls.
"Check the lower archives," Dante ordered in a low whisper.
As the squad descended the stone staircase toward the subterranean vaults, the air grew noticeably colder. The massive steel door of the primary archive vault hung open on twisted hinges, sparks showering from its damaged electronic control panel.
Dante stepped inside the vault. The rows of secure obsidian storage lockers had been forcibly cracked open, their contents strewn across the floor. But in the center of the room, sitting neatly atop a mahogany interrogation table, was a single, pristine white envelope.
Dante approached slowly, his gun raised, and picked up the envelope. Inside was a handwritten note scrawled in elegant, precise cursive:
May you like
“You looked for enemies in the shadows, Dante, while the real threat was standing right in front of you the whole time. The empire was never yours to keep. Enjoy the fall.”
Before Dante could process the words, the heavy steel entrance of the vault slammed shut with a thunderous bang, followed by the rapid, heavy click of magnetic locking bolts engaging from the outside.
