Chapter 5 - Fire and Water
The storm drain was a concrete purgatory of rushing black water, deafening echoes, and choking humidity. We waded waist-deep through the freezing current, our tactical flashlights cutting through thick billows of steam that rose from the municipal heating pipes overhead.
Behind us, muffled shouts and the dull thud of gunfire echoed down the cylindrical tube. Lorenzo’s men had found the hatch.
“Keep moving!” I yelled over the roar of the water, pushing forward against the powerful current. “The river outlet is fifty yards ahead! There’s a zodiac boat hidden beneath the pier!”
Gabriel was right behind me, his massive frame shielding my back as he fired a single controlled shot backward into the gloom, taking out a pursuing scout’s flashlight and plunging their advance into darkness.
“You’ve planned this down to the millimeter, haven't you?” he shouted, catching up to me as the tunnel widened into a massive concrete chamber where the storm drain emptied into the dark, churning waters of the East River.
“A good operator doesn't improvise unless the plan goes to hell!” I grabbed the mooring rope of a camouflage-painted inflatable zodiac bobbing against the slimy concrete wall. I scrambled over the pontoon, tossing him the starter cord. “Start the engine! Now!”
Gabriel pulled the cord hard. The small outboard motor coughed twice before roaring to life with a deafening, mechanical snarl that cut through the cavernous roar of the river.
Bullets suddenly began to ricochet off the concrete walls around us as two of Lorenzo’s enforcers broke through the upper gantry of the drainage outlet, their assault rifles flashing in the dark.
“Get down!” Gabriel roared, hauling me down into the bottom of the rubber boat as he grabbed his submachine gun and laid down a blistering wall of suppressive fire, forcing our attackers back behind the concrete barrier.
I slammed the throttle forward. The zodiac lunged out of the dark drainpipe, launching out into the open, wind-whipped expanse of the East River under the towering steel girders of the Brooklyn Bridge.
The cold night air hit us like a physical blow. Spray from the choppy river water soaked our clothes instantly, but as we surged out toward the quiet industrial docks of Long Island City, the skyline of Manhattan glittered behind us like a crown of cold, indifferent diamonds.
Gabriel dropped the smoking weapon into the bottom of the boat, sinking back against the rubber pontoon with a heavy, exhausted sigh. He looked over at me, water dripping from his dark hair, his clothes ruined, his skin pale under the moonlight.
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And for the first time since I pulled him onto that ballroom floor, the cold, ruthless mafia boss was completely gone.
In his place was a man who realized his entire world had just burned to the ground—and that the only reason he was alive to see the ashes was because of the daughter of the man his syndicate had murdered.
