Chapter 15
The private Bellori helicopter tore through the pitch-black night sky, flying low under the radar toward the heavily fortified Moretti compound on the outskirts of the city. Inside the dark, vibrating cabin, Orson sat alongside eight of his most elite, lethal operators. They were dressed in full tactical stealth gear, their faces painted black, preparing for a highly coordinated HALO (High Altitude Low Opening) insertion.
Orson checked the magazine of his customized assault rifle. The romantic, movie-star handsome facade was entirely gone, replaced by the hardened visage of a warlord preparing for a siege.
"Two minutes to the drop zone," the pilot's voice crackled over the headset.
"Remember the objective," Orson said, his deep, raspy voice cutting through the noise of the rotors. "We do not engage the perimeter guards. We drop directly onto the roof of the main house. We breach the master suite, eliminate Don Moretti, and extract before the compound realizes their head has been severed."
"Understood, Boss," the operators replied in unison, their loyalty absolute.
The helicopter ascended sharply, reaching the necessary altitude. The rear ramp lowered, letting in a blast of freezing, high-altitude air. The lights of the sprawling Moretti estate glittered like distant stars below them.
Orson stood up, moving to the edge of the ramp. He looked down into the abyss. He thought of Mara, clutching her throat on the dining room floor, and the rage burned brighter than the city lights below.
May you like
He stepped off the ramp, plummeting into the darkness.
The freefall was silent and terrifyingly fast. At the last possible second, Orson deployed his stealth parafoil, gliding with pinpoint accuracy toward the massive, flat roof of the Moretti mansion. He landed flawlessly, his boots hitting the gravel roof without a sound. His operators landed softly around him, instantly fanning out to secure the access points.
