Chapter 18 - The Final ReckoningThe loading dock was damp and windswept, rain blowing in sideways from Lake Michigan.
Viktor Rostov stumbled out into the dim light of the loading bay, his tactical vest scorched, breathing heavily as he clutched a submachine gun in his shaking hands. He looked around wildly, realizing his entire army had been dismantled in less than ten minutes.
Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed across the concrete behind him.
Rostov spun around, raising his weapon—only for a heavy boot to kick the barrel upward just as he pulled the trigger. A burst of bullets slammed harmlessly into the corrugated steel roof.
Gabriel stepped out of the shadows, his face carved from absolute granite, his dark eyes locked onto Rostov with terrifying calm.
"You're out of options, Viktor," Gabriel said quietly, stepping closer.
Rostov snarled, dropping his empty weapon and lunging forward with a tactical combat knife pulled from his belt.
It was a fatal mistake.
Gabriel sidestepped the clumsy lunge with fluid, practiced ease, caught Rostov’s wrist with bone-crushing force, and twisted it until the knife clattered onto the concrete. With a swift, brutal strike to the jaw, Gabriel sent the Bratva boss crashing hard onto the wet floor, completely unconscious.
Mason stepped out of the shadows behind Gabriel, pulling out a pair of heavy zip-ties. "Should I take him to the basement holding cells, boss?"
"No," Gabriel said coldly, looking down at the defeated warlord. "Hand him over to the federal marshals. Let him spend the rest of his life in a concrete box thinking about what happens when you cross my family."
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Gabriel turned around, walking back toward the command vehicle where I stood waiting by the open door.
As he stepped into the light, he pulled off his tactical gloves, his eyes softening the moment he looked at me.
