Chapter 12
Silvio didn't wait for Lorenzo to reach the bumper. He slammed the SUV into reverse, the tires shrieking against the concrete as he aggressively backed out of the parking space. He threw the transmission into drive and stomped on the accelerator, intending to run the Mafia boss down before fleeing the garage.
The heavy, two-ton vehicle surged forward, its high-beam headlights blinding in the dim garage.
Lorenzo didn't flinch. He didn't dive for cover. As the SUV roared toward him, reaching thirty miles per hour, Lorenzo simply raised his left hand.
From the shadows behind the concrete pillars, four heavily armored Ravelli operatives stepped out, their specialized, silenced submachine guns raised. They didn't target the driver; they targeted the engine block and the tires in perfect, synchronized precision.
The deafening staccato of suppressed gunfire echoed through the garage. The front tires of the SUV exploded, sending sparks flying as the bare rims ground into the concrete. The engine block shattered, spewing dark oil and hissing steam into the air.
The vehicle violently lost control, skidding sideways and crashing heavily into a concrete support beam. The airbags deployed with a concussive pop, filling the cabin with white powder.
Lorenzo lowered his hand. He walked slowly toward the smoking wreckage, entirely unfazed by the violence.
The passenger door groaned open. The mercenary stumbled out, coughing on the airbag dust, trying to raise his rifle. Before he could aim, a Ravelli operative stepped from the shadows and drove the butt of his weapon brutally into the man's temple, dropping him instantly to the pavement.
May you like
Lorenzo stopped at the driver's side door. The window was shattered. Silvio was slumped against the steering wheel, dazed and bleeding from a nasty cut on his forehead.
Lorenzo reached through the broken glass, grabbed Silvio by the collar of his jacket, and hauled him forcefully out of the vehicle, throwing him onto the oily concrete floor.
