Chapter 6 - THE WOLF'S LAIRThe icy salt water hit Daniel like a wall of solid lead, knocking the wind from his lungs. The undertow of the North Atlantic clawed violently at his clothes, dragging him downward into the black depths. Beside him, Bruno sliced through the water like a torpedo, using his powerful hind legs to keep them both afloat.
Breaking the surface a hundred yards offshore, Daniel gasped for air, his muscles locking up from the freezing shock. He grabbed hold of a rubber inflatable zodiac boat drifting silently in the cove—Vinny Russo’s emergency extraction craft.
"Grab the rail, Boss! I got you!" Vinny yelled, throwing a heavy rope from the bow and hauling Daniel and the massive dog over the gunwale.
Wrapped in a thermal foil blanket, shivering violently as the zodiac sped eastward toward the safety of South Boston, Daniel stared up at the distant lights of Manchester-by-the-Sea. His clothes were soaked, his hands were bleeding from shrapnel and glass, but his mind was sharper than a surgeon's scalpel.
Richard Vance thought he could erase the Reyes family. He thought he could buy up the city, silence the weak, and bury the truth in an unmarked grave under a highway overpass.
He didn't realize that Daniel wasn't just a gang boss anymore. He was a son whose mother had been stolen, and there was no army on earth big enough to protect Vance from what was coming.
"Vinny," Daniel said, his voice dropping an octave as the boat sliced through the dark waves.
"Yeah, Boss?"
"Call the docks. Call the unions. Call every captain, every soldier, and every capo from Dorchester to East Boston. Tell them the war is on."
Vinny grinned in the dark, a flash of white teeth in a scarred face. "Who’s the target, Boss?"
"Richard Vance. Burn his real estate empire to the ground. Take his accounts, crash his stocks, and lock down every bridge, tunnel, and highway leaving Boston. Nobody leaves the city until I have Vance's head on a silver platter."
"And Marcus?" Vinny asked cautiously.
May you like
Daniel looked down at Bruno, who was resting his heavy, scarred head across Daniel's knee, licking a drop of salt water from his master's hand.
"Leave Marcus to the wolves," Daniel whispered. "He’s already dead. He just doesn't know it yet."
