Page 145 of Righteous Enforcer
He's right. Despite everything, some part of me still wants to believe in Eva, still hopes there's an explanation that makes sense of all her contradictions.
"This is business," I say flatly. "I'm not letting personal feelings interfere."
Alessandro nods, seemingly satisfied. "Then let's get to work. We have a trap to set."
On Friday, we arrive two hours before the scheduled shipment, moving in silence through the warehouse.
I position men at key locations, snipers on the surrounding rooftops, assault teams in the adjacent buildings, a tactical squad with me at the heart of the trap. Alessandro takes half our forces to the second location we've set up to thwart Vitale if he turns on us.
"Remember," I say into my comms, "we let them think they have the upper hand. Let them commit fully to their attack before we reveal ourselves."
I check my weapons one final time. Pistol at my hip, backup at my ankle, knife in my sleeve.
"Movement at the east entrance," a voice crackles in my ear. "Three vehicles approaching."
I press myself deeper into the shadows. "Hold positions."
The first vehicle stops at the gate. Two men exit, checking the perimeter with flashlights. They're sloppy, so sure they’re about to get the jump on us. They miss our sniper on the roof, the men stationed behind the shipping containers, the team waiting in the loading bay.
"All clear," one of them says into his radio, and the rest of their convoy rolls in.
I realize then just how many men Ivan has sent. If Vitale is with him, we’re outmanned. But I’m not worried.
They spread out through the warehouse floor, taking positions they think give them tactical advantage. They're surrounding the area where our shipment should be arriving, setting up their ambush.
We let them sit, get bored. Get antsy. It’s all part of the plan.
“Where are these guys?” One of Ivan’s men says.
“Patience.” That’s Ivan, and I smile, glad that motherfucker is here.
“They should be here by now,” another says.
“And yet they’re not. Patience.” Ivan’s tone sounds like he might start killing his own men.
“I’m bored too,” Alessandro says into my comms. “Let’s roll.”
At that, floodlights blind the Bratva men as they snap on from all directions. For one perfect moment, they're frozen in confusion, exposed and vulnerable.
Then all hell breaks loose.
Our snipers take the first shots, eliminating three of their men before anyone can react. The rest scatter, diving for cover as gunfire erupts from every direction.
I emerge from hiding, firing as I advance. Two Bratva soldiers fall before they locate me. A third manages to get off a shot that whizzes past my shoulder before my bullet finds his chest.
Ivan is shouting orders, trying to rally his men, but it's chaos. They expected to be the hunters tonight and now they're the prey. It’s almost not fair, not that I give a shit.
"Find Ivan!" I call into my comms. "He doesn't leave here alive!"
The warehouse echoes with gunfire and it’s like music to my ears. This ends tonight. These fuckers who killed my father. Who compromised the woman I loved. Who terrorized my daughter. They all die tonight.
I pivot toward a noise behind one of the shipping containers, gun raised. The space is a maze of crates and machinery, perfect for hiding.
A shadow moves to my right. I fire without hesitation, catching a Bratva soldier in the shoulder. He whips away with a curse.
The battle rages around me, but I'm focused on one target. Ivan.
I navigate around fallen bodies, mostly Bratva.
