Chapter 19 - The Final ReckoningThree hours later, a convoy of three unmarked tactical SUVs rolled out through the open iron gates of the estate, tearing through the midnight rain toward an abandoned shipping warehouse down by the Brooklyn docks—the very stronghold where the remaining leaders of the Moscow syndicate had gathered to celebrate their supposed victory.
I sat in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, my Sig Sauer resting across my lap, my mind completely clear of doubt, fear, or hesitation.
For thirty-four years, I had lived behind iron walls, believing that love was a weakness and attachment was a death sentence. But as I thought of Maria sacrificing herself to save her family, and little Sofia calling me her superhero, I understood the ultimate truth of my existence.
My father told me never to let anyone see what could hurt me.
He was wrong. The things that hurt you are the only things that make you truly alive.
We breached the warehouse at 2:00 AM.
There was no negotiation. No warnings. No second chances. The doors blew inward under the force of thermal charges, and my men poured into the facility like a tidal wave of retribution.
The firefight was short, brutal, and absolute. The Moscow capos, caught completely by surprise, didn't stand a chance against a syndicate led by a man who had nothing left to lose and everything worth fighting for.
I stepped into the syndicate's central office, where the surviving boss—a scarred veteran named Gregor—was scrambling for a satellite phone.
Gregor looked up, his eyes widening in sheer terror as the barrel of my pistol leveled directly between his eyes.
"Daniel Hale..." Gregor gasped, dropping the phone. "You're dead. The board said you were finished."
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"Tell the board I sent my regards," I said softly.
Bang.
