Chapter 8 - Dawn of the New DonThe sky over Manhattan was turning a bruised shade of purple as dawn approached. Rain had turned into a light, icy mist that slicked the asphalt streets below the majestic, seventy-story Corvini Tower.
On the rooftop helipad, wind whipped furiously.
Don Vincenzo stood near the edge of the building, surrounded by six heavily armed bodyguards. Aunt Rosa sat tied to a wooden chair beside him, her eyes filled with tears as she shivered in the freezing wind.
The heavy steel access doors to the roof hissed open.
Salvatore stepped out into the open, wearing a dark tactical coat, his hands held high above his head. He walked alone across the wet helipad, stopping ten feet from Vincenzo.
"You're late, boy," Vincenzo sneered over the roar of the wind.
"Traffic was light," Sal replied coldly. "Where is the drive?"
Sal reached into his coat pocket slowly, pulling out the steel USB drive. It glinted under the rooftop floodlights.
"Untie my aunt," Sal demanded. "And you get the drive."
Vincenzo nodded to one of his guards. The guard pulled a combat knife and sliced Aunt Rosa's ropes. She stumbled forward, and Sal quickly caught her, guiding her behind him toward the safety of the stairwell door.
"Go down to the 68th floor, Aunt Rosa," Sal whispered gently. "Lock the door."
Once she disappeared inside, Vincenzo extended his gloved hand. "The drive, Salvatore. Now. Before I order my men to paint this roof with your brain."
Sal looked down at the drive in his hand. Then, he looked directly at Vincenzo and smiled—a terrifying, triumphant smile.
"You always were arrogant, Vincenzo," Sal said softly. "You thought you were negotiating with a desperate nephew. But you forgot one simple rule."
"What rule?" Vincenzo growled, his hand going to his holstered weapon.
"Always check the skies."
BOOM!
A blinding flashbang grenade exploded directly above the helipad, dropped from an automated commercial drone hovering three hundred feet in the air.
The brilliant flash and deafening sound instantly disoriented Vincenzo's bodyguards, sending them stumbling backward, clutching their eyes and ears.
At that exact second, from the top of the adjacent skyscraper four hundred yards away, a sniper rifle cracked through the morning air.
THWACK!
The guard standing closest to Vincenzo dropped instantly as a high-caliber round took him out.
THWACK! THWACK!
Two more guards fell before the rest even realized where the shots were coming from.
Vincenzo screamed in terror, pulling his revolver and aiming it at Sal, but Sal was already moving. He closed the distance in a fraction of a second, slapping Vincenzo's gun hand aside, driving a heavy knee into the old man's ribs, and disarming him instantly.
Sal kicked Vincenzo to his knees at the very edge of the helipad.
The remaining bodyguards threw down their weapons, raising their hands in total surrender as the sound of police sirens began echoing from the streets below—hundreds of them, swarming the entire block.
The stairwell door opened.
I stepped onto the windy roof, carrying a heavy sniper rifle case slung over my shoulder, holding an encrypted laptop in my hands.
Vincenzo looked up at me, his face pale, his eyes wide with absolute disbelief. "You... the secretary... you were the sniper?!"
"I took rifle marksmanship in college, Vincenzo," I said coldly, walking over to stand beside Sal. "And my boss gives very generous performance bonuses."
"The police..." Vincenzo stammered, hearing the deafening chorus of sirens below. "How...?"
"Fifteen minutes ago, Elena uploaded the contents of that drive directly to the Federal Prosecutor's secure public server," Sal revealed, looking down at his father's killer. "Every corrupt politician, every dirty cop, every illegal bank account you've ever owned is live on the internet. The FBI isn't here to save you, Vincenzo. They're here to collect what's left of your empire."
Vincenzo collapsed backward against the safety railing, realizing his entire world had been annihilated in a single morning.
Sal looked down at him one last time, then turned his back on the old man, taking my hand in his.
As the sun broke over the Manhattan skyline, painting the clouds in brilliant shades of gold and pink, Sal pulled me close against his chest.
"So," I whispered, resting my head against his shoulder as federal helicopters began hovering above the tower. "What happens now, Don Salvatore?"
May you like
Sal looked down at me, his eyes filled with a peace he hadn't known in fifteen years. He leaned down and kissed my lips softly, right there on the roof of the city he now owned.
"Now," Sal smiled warmly, "we go home, feed Steve, and finally start our New Year."
