Chapter 6 - THE MAFIA’S LAST STAND
Blood in the Cathedral"I work the night shift," Nora said, her voice shaking just enough to look like a frightened civilian. "I see a lot of people."
The scarred man leaned in, his breath smelling of garlic and stale beer. "No. I saw you at the diner. You're the girl with the rag. The one who told Joey that Marcello went west."
Nora didn't answer. She knew that if she spoke, her voice would betray her.
"Where is he, girl?" the man hissed, grabbing her by the collar of her raincoat. "Where is Vitucci?"
Nora looked down at the floor, her hand slipping into her pocket where the burner phone sat. She had to do it now. If she didn't, she would never leave this room alive.
With a sudden, violent movement, she shoved the cardboard tray of hot coffee directly into the scarred man’s face.
The boiling liquid splashed across his eyes, making him let out a wet, animal roar of pain. He stumbled backward, releasing his grip on her collar.
Nora didn't run for the stairs. She ran toward the back of the office, sliding the burner phone under a heavy steel desk as she passed, and threw herself out of the second-story window.
She hit the metal roof of a shipping container ten feet below with a bone-jarring crunch.
Pain exploded in her bad knee, a sharp, white-hot knife that made her vision go dark for a second. But she didn't stop. She rolled off the edge of the container, landing in the wet gravel of the yard, and began to drag herself toward the shadows of the harbor.
Behind her, the office windows shattered as the Valenti men opened fire.
"Get her!" the scarred man roared from the window. "Don't let her reach the street!"
Nora crawled between two massive stacks of steel containers, her breath coming in ragged, sobbing gasps. The rain was washing the dirt into her eyes, but she could see the silhouette of the gray sedan waiting near the gate.
Russo was there.
He didn't wait for her to reach the car. He lunged out of the darkness with his rifle raised, firing a sustained burst of automatic fire that forced the Valenti men to duck behind the office stairs.
"Nora!" Russo yelled, grabbing her under the arm and dragging her into the passenger seat. "Did you drop the phone?"
"Yes," she gasped, clutching her knee. "It's... it's under the desk. Call it. Call it now."
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Russo slammed the car into reverse, the tires screaming against the wet asphalt as they burst through the security gate. He pulled out a second phone and dialed a single number.
"It’s Russo," he said into the receiver. "The bait is set. Tell the boss we're moving to the refinery."
