Chapter 13
The flight to Chicago was completed in absolute, radio-silent stealth. Adrian’s private jet landed at an unlit, privately owned airstrip on the outskirts of the city. Waiting on the tarmac was a fleet of unmarked, black tactical SUVs.
"Move out," Adrian commanded over the encrypted comms.
The convoy sped through the dark, freezing streets of the Midwest metropolis. They bypassed the heavily monitored main avenues, utilizing service roads and industrial routes mapped meticulously by the Bellucci cyber division. They reached the base of the Falcone high-rise just past 2:00 AM.
"Aerial insertion team is in position, Boss," Dante reported.
High above, a silent, radar-evading transport helicopter hovered over the skyscraper. Ten Bellucci operatives fast-roped onto the roof, moving like phantoms in the pitch-black night. They neutralized the rooftop security detail with suppressed weapons before the guards could even reach for their radios.
"Power grid severed. Comms are black," the lead operative confirmed.
Inside the high-rise, the top four floors suddenly plunged into total darkness. The emergency backup lights flickered, casting a sickly, pale glow over the luxurious corridors.
Adrian and the ground team breached the lower service elevators, manually overriding the systems to ascend rapidly. The Falcone syndicate, heavily reliant on their electronic security, was suddenly blind and deaf.
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"Execute," Adrian whispered.
The heavy steel doors of the 40th floor blew inward with a concussive, deafening roar. Adrian stepped through the smoke, his thermal optics cutting through the darkness. The massacre had officially begun.
