Chapter 6 - The Rail Yard AmbushThe rain had turned into a relentless, icy deluge by the time the black SUV tore through the rusted chain-link gates of the abandoned rail yards off South Ashland Avenue. The sprawling industrial complex was a graveyard of rotting boxcars, rusted cranes, and towering piles of scrap metal, illuminated only by the sweeping beams of security searchlights mounted on the crumbling brick warehouses.
Inside the bouncing SUV, the atmosphere was thick with the smell of gun oil, wet leather, and raw adrenaline.
Elena sat in the passenger seat, wearing a heavy Kevlar ballistic vest over her black scrubs. Her hands were steady as she checked the magazine of a 9mm Sig Sauer pistol Victor had handed her in the hospital parking garage. Ten years ago, she had been a doctor who only touched scalpels. Tonight, she was a mother at war.
In the back seat, Marco sat with his teeth gritted, pressing a thick gauze pad against his right side where fresh blood was slowly soaking through his black shirt. Every bump in the road sent a jolt of agony through his healing abdominal wall, but he didn't utter a single sound of complaint. His eyes were fixed on the glowing screen of a satellite tracker tablet in Victor's lap.
"The signal from the burner phone Gallo used is bouncing off Warehouse 14," Victor reported, his fingers flying across the keypad. "They've got a perimeter set up. At least fifteen men with automatic weapons. It's a kill box, Marco."
"They want me," Marco said, his voice a low, gravelly whisper as he racked the slide of his customized Colt .45. "They don't care about the boy as long as they can draw me out. Once I'm inside, Gallo will try to take the whole Chicago syndicate out in one stroke."
"Then we don't go in through the front door," Elena said, turning around in her seat to look at them both.
Marco blinked, surprised. "What are you talking about?"
"When I worked the night shift at Cook County before moving to St. Augustine, I treated a security guard who used to moonlight at these exact rail yards," Elena said, her eyes sharp and analytical. "There's an old subterranean steam tunnel network running beneath Warehouse 14. It was built during the Pullman strike era. It comes up directly through the building's sub-basement furnace room."
Victor stared at her in disbelief. "You know the layout of a Chicago rail yard underground?"
"I know everything I need to know to get my son back," Elena snapped, sliding the pistol holster securely onto her belt. "Victor, take the SUV and make a loud breach at the front loading docks. Draw every single guard toward the main entrance. Marco and I will drop into the steam tunnels and come up behind them."
Marco reached out, his warm, calloused fingers wrapping around her wrist. For a second, the chaos of the night melted away.
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"You're still the bravest woman I've ever known, Elena," he murmured, his dark eyes searching hers.
"Save the flattery for after we get Dante, Vitali," she said, pulling her arm away gently, though her pulse raced at his touch. "Let's move."
