Chapter 9 - The Fall of the SyndicateThe explosion didn't hit Marco's men; it hit the massive overhead crane towering directly above Pier 41.

The heavy steel cables snapped with a deafening screech of stressed metal, sending three massive shipping containers crashing down from the sky, forming an impenetrable wall of steel that instantly separated Marco’s guards into two isolated groups.
Before the dust could settle, chaos erupted.
Dimitri drew his weapon and fired with brutal, calculated precision, taking down two thugs before they could raise their sights.
Tsar vaulted over a low barrier, slamming directly into a third operative, his jaws locking onto a tactical vest and ripping the man to the ground.
And Lara? Lara moved like a ghost through the smoke. She ducked beneath a wild swing from a crowbar-wielding thug, swept his legs out from under him with a textbook martial arts pivot, and delivered a devastating heel kick to his temple, rendering him unconscious before he hit the concrete.
Salvatore tried to crawl toward a getaway sedan, but a heavy leather boot slammed down onto his hand, pinning him to the ground.
He looked up, gasping in terror as Dimitri towered over him, his face a mask of stone.
"Please, Dimitri!" Salvatore wept, clutching his bleeding hand. "I was forced! Moretti threatened my family!"
"Your family is safe in Switzerland, Salvatore. I checked," Dimitri said coldly, pressing his pistol barrel directly against Salvatore's forehead. "You did this out of greed. And greed has a very specific price."
A gunshot echoed across the docks, swallowed instantly by the roaring waves.
Across the pier, Marco Moretti dropped his smoking weapon as a bullet grazed his shoulder. He turned to run toward his car, only to find his path blocked by a towering white beast with bared fangs. Tsar stood between him and freedom, growling a sound that froze the mob boss in his tracks.
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Lara stepped up behind Marco, grabbed him by the collar of his expensive suit, and hurled him face-first onto the hood of his own car.
"You dropped your ledger, Mr. Moretti," Lara said smoothly, tossing the bloody financial records onto the windshield right in front of his face.