Chapter 8
The war room was a windowless, reinforced bunker beneath the estate, illuminated by harsh overhead lights. A massive mahogany table sat in the center, covered with blueprints of the property and encrypted communication devices. Marcus and three senior capos stood around the table, their suit jackets discarded to reveal heavy shoulder holsters and tactical vests.
"Status," Domenico demanded, his deep, raspy voice commanding absolute attention as he entered the room.
"The perimeter is entirely locked down, Boss," Marcus reported, pointing to a live satellite feed on a nearby monitor. "We cut the exterior lighting on the main driveway. We have snipers positioned on the east and west rooftops. Thirty heavily armed men are waiting in the shadows of the courtyard."
Domenico leaned over the table, resting his tattooed hands on the blueprints. The loose strands of wavy hair fell across his forehead, giving him a dangerously calm appearance. "Have we intercepted any communications from Chicago?"
"Yes," a capo named Vince answered, tapping an earpiece. "Ten minutes ago, a convoy of four unmarked, armored SUVs crossed the state line. They are running dark, communicating on a scrambled frequency. They are expecting the gates to be open, as per their arrangement with Adrian."
"Excellent," Domenico murmured, a cold, terrifying smile touching the corners of his mouth. "They believe they are walking into a house divided. They believe Adrian has already disabled our primary security."
"What are your orders, Domenico?" Marcus asked, checking the magazine of his assault rifle. "Do we engage them on the access road?"
"No," Domenico said slowly, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet register. "If we hit them on the road, they have room to maneuver and retreat. We do not want survivors. We want to send a message."
He traced a line on the blueprint with his finger, drawing a path from the main gate directly into the enclosed stone courtyard of the estate.
"Open the main gates," Domenico ordered. "Let their convoy drive entirely inside the walls. Once all four vehicles are in the courtyard, close the heavy iron gates behind them. Trap them."
The capos exchanged a look of grim understanding. It was a flawless, brutal tactical trap.
"Once they are locked inside, the courtyard becomes a kill box," Domenico continued, standing up straight and adjusting his tailored vest. "Wait until they exit their vehicles, expecting to be greeted by Adrian. When the Chicago Don steps onto the pavement, you open fire from all elevated positions. Do not stop until nothing is moving."
"Understood, Boss," Marcus nodded sharply, relaying the command through his secure radio.
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Domenico walked over to a heavy steel gun cabinet resting against the concrete wall. He opened it, retrieving a suppressed, heavy-caliber tactical pistol. He checked the action with practiced, mechanical efficiency, the metallic clack echoing loudly in the quiet room.
He was not going to sit in a bunker while his men fought his war. He was going to watch his enemies die.
