Chapter 9 - THE EXECUTION OF JUDASThe Helipad at MidnightThe heavy metal door kicked open, storming out onto the rooftop.
Rain poured down in torrents, driven by howling winds forty stories above the city streets. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the black helicopter idling on the helipad, its blades slowly beginning to spin.
Marco sprinted toward the open helicopter door, waving his arms at the pilot. "START THE ENGINES! GO! GO!"
Before Marco could reach the landing gear, a black streak slammed into his legs.
Veto tackled him from behind. Marco fell hard onto the wet tarmac, his pistol skidding away across the slippery surface and falling over the edge of the building into the abyss below.
Marco rolled onto his back, screaming in horror as Veto stood over him, his massive paws pinned to Marco’s shoulders, his dripping jaws snapping inches from Marco’s eyes.
"GET HIM OFF ME! PRATTASIO, PLEASE!" Marco sobbed, his hands raised in useless defense.
Prattasio walked out onto the rain-swept roof, his coat soaking through, his gun lowered at his side. He motioned with his finger.
Veto backed off two steps, keeping his body tense, ready to strike if Marco so much as twitched.
Prattasio stood over his former underboss. The sound of the helicopter blades whipped the cold wind around them.
"I took you off the streets when you were sixteen," Prattasio said quietly, his voice cutting through the storm. "I fed you. I gave you a suit, a car, and my trust. I treated you like a brother."
"They forced me, Don Prattasio!" Marco wept, crawling backward until his back hit the low perimeter wall of the roof. "The Moretti family... they threatened to kill my family! I had no choice!"
"You had a choice," Prattasio replied coldly. "You could have died with honor. Instead, you tried to suffocate me in the dark."
Prattasio raised his pistol, aiming it directly between Marco’s eyes.
"Wait..." Marco gasped, blood and rain dripping from his chin. "Wait! You don't know... you don't know who really ordered it..."
Prattasio paused, his finger resting on the trigger. "What did you say?"
"It wasn't the Five Families who came up with the idea!" Marco blurted out, desperate to buy seconds of life. "They were invited! Someone inside your own house... someone who knew about your Tetrodotoxin allergy... someone who paid Dr. Vance six months ago!"
Prattasio’s eyes narrowed. "Who?"
Marco opened his mouth to answer—
BANG!
A single sniper round shattered the night air from a neighboring tower. The bullet struck Marco directly through the throat.
Marco’s eyes went wide. He collapsed sideways, sliding off the edge of the roof, disappearing into the dark rainy night forty stories below.
Prattasio instantly ducked behind the roof’s air conditioning unit, pulling Veto down beside him.
The shot hadn't come from Marco’s men. It had come from a silenced, ultra-long-range military rifle. Someone was clearing the field. Someone was erasing the evidence.
Prattasio looked down at Veto. The dog was staring intently at Prattasio’s ringing phone in his inner suit pocket.
May you like
Prattasio pulled out the phone. The caller ID showed a number he knew better than his own.
Elena.
