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31
Damian paced,eyeing the various targets outlined on the map of New York and its surrounding area. They were at the Tribeca office, the lights mostly off, the conference room lit by the glow of the screen at the front of the room, different targets marked with red (mission complete), yellow (in progress), and green (slated tobeginsoon).
The most important targets had been hit the day before — Anastos’s illegal weapons shipment halted by the ATF, seventeen men detained by Customs on their way in from various airports in Eastern Europe, 38 arrests of Fiore and Anastos foot soldiers that the media was calling a “targeted attack on the city’s organized crimeelement”.
The hits had been set up through a variety of means that included anonymous tips, favors, and hefty bribes to law enforcement. Damian was under no illusions; the police who were allies in his mission to rid the city of Fiore and Anastos would again be his enemies once he took over the territory for theSyndicate.
That was another problem for another time. There would always be cops and ATF agents willing to take bribes for favorable treatment, just like there would always be cops and ATF agents willing to use off-the-books methods to rid the world of its most dangerouspredators.
They weren’t unlike Damian that way. He understood them, understood their disillusionment with the process of law and order. When it worked, it worked well. When it didn’t, you only had two choices — accept the flaws in the system and the damage that was done by letting it go unchecked, or exact your own form ofjustice.
He didn’t begrudge the men who let the system’s flaws go unchecked, but he wasn’t that kind of man. Someone was going to take out the trash and make moneydoingit.
He trusted himself morethanmost.
He was surprised to find that he trusted the Syndicate more thanmost,too.
“Thoughts?” Cole asked from his chair at the conferencetable.
“Everything looks good,” Damian said. “Get me another head count of our men on the ground, then we’llheadout.”
The offices of his criminal enterprise were mostly empty, most of the men already en route or in place for the day’s operation. They'd assigned the men carefully, according to their strengths and the numbers they estimated would be required for eachtarget.
But another head countwouldn’thurt.
Cole stood. “Willdo.”
He left the room and Damian turned again to the map, his eyes homing in on Primo’s nightclub inManhattan.
They had it on good authority that Primo and Malcolm Gatti were holed up at the nightclub. It made sense; it was small, had limited access from the street, and was surrounded by other businesses likely controlled byPrimo.
As strongholds in the city went, it was one of Primo’s onlyoptions.
There was no way of knowing how many men were guarding the club, but he and Cole had made the decision to take the place alone. They were already stretched thin, their men now spread out across the targets of both the Fiore and Anastos operations. Damian and Cole had both been to the club, and Damian had used his cyber operation to gain access to plans submitted to the city during the club’s last renovation. It was all the information theyneeded.
His thoughts turned to Aria, sleepy and soft, in the kitchen that morning. He’d wanted to carry her back to bed, tuck the covers around her, tell her to sleep until he came back. He didn’t want her to worry while he was gone, to imagine what was happeningtohim.
ToPrimo.
But keeping her in the dark would have been pointless. However much she claimed to turn her back on Primo, he was her brother. She had to be worried, and there was nothing he could do about it but hurry back to her and spend the rest of his life giving her the family she deserved, one that would shelter and love her withoutcondition.
One that would never hurt her likePrimo.
It wasn’t enough to undo the hurt Primo had caused her, but it was allDamianhad.
He turned to his desk, removed his weapons and triple-checked them to make sure they were clean and ready to fire. The plan was simple: at precisely five o’ clock, the teams he and Cole had deployed would start taking out Fiore and Anastos targets while Damian and Cole launched their raid onVelvet.
In other words: they would cut off the head of the snake while the rest of the operation decimatedthebody.
They couldn’t be sure that Anastos would be with Primo and Malcolm, but Damian was less concerned about the Greek boss at the moment. His army had been severely incapacitated by the problem with Customs, and he wouldn’t stand a chance in hell in New York without Fiore. Damian would regroup after today and eliminate the remaining targets — including Anastos, if necessary — in thecomingdays.
It would be clean up,nothingmore.
Cole returned to the conference room. “Sent the head count to yourphone.”
Damian logged into the encrypted email they used to transfer confidential data. The numbers looked good. If his calculations about the Fiore and Anastos army were correct, they had a good shot at taking out the targets with minimal losses oftheirown.
Damian shrugged on his jacket, pocketed the extra ammo he’d removed from his desk, and headed forthedoor.
“Let’s get thesemotherfuckers.”
