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“All right, men,” I concluded, “prepare for the days ahead. We will reconvene shortly before the assault. Good luck and stay sharp. It will be just a few days before we strike.”
Three days later, the tension in the air was palpable as we gathered in the dimly-lit room. The walls seemed to close in, heavy with anticipation and the weight of our impending battle against Bianchi. My eyes scanned the maps and blueprints scattered about, my mind racing with strategy and calculation.
“Everyone knows their roles?” I asked, my voice calm but carrying an undeniable authority. The men nodded, their expressions a mix of determination and focus.
“Good,” I continued, feeling a surge of adrenaline course through me. “Matty, have you successfully disabled Bianchi’s security system?”
“Piece of cake, boss,” Matty replied with a sly grin. “They won’t know what hit them.”
“Riccardo,” I addressed him, “are we well-equipped for the assault?”
“Absolutely, Nicholas,” Riccardo affirmed. “We’ve got firepower, and we’re ready for any surprises that might come our way.”
“Excellent,” I said, turning my gaze back to the blueprints of Bianchi’s stronghold. I felt a knot tighten in my chest at the thought of Liliana, her safety my utmost priority. I pushed the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand.
“All right, men. This is it,” I began, feeling the weight of my words settle upon us all. “Our moment has arrived. We strike tonight when Bianchi is at his most vulnerable. Remember what I’ve said: stealth, precision, and minimize casualties. We end this war tonight and protect what we hold dear.”
“Yes, boss,” Enzo replied, his voice steady and unwavering.
“Let’s move out,” I commanded, my heart pounding with each step toward the door. I could feel the fire of determination burning within every man in the room, fueling our resolve to bring down Antonio Bianchi once and for all.
Chapter 13
Nicholas
The damp air hung heavy in the warehouse as I surveyed my men, their hands steady on an array of lethal weapons. The dim light cast shadows across their faces, and I could see the determination burning in their eyes. We were here for one reason: to take down Antonio Bianchi.
“Boss, I wish I could go with you,” George said, his voice low and gravelly. His fists clenched at his sides, a fire raging behind his steel-gray eyes. “I still owe that bastard Bianchi for what he did to Mrs. Romano. It’s personal.”
“George, your loyalty is unquestionable,” I replied, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “But I need you here, making sure Gary, Peter, and John don’t warn Bianchi. They may have given us valuable intel, but we can’t afford any surprises.”
He nodded reluctantly, his jaw set tight with frustration. I understood his anger; the kidnapping of Liliana had been a brutal blow to us all. But I couldn’t let emotions dictate our strategy. Control was paramount - in this world, it meant the difference between life and death.
As my men prepared for the assault, I reviewed the plan in my mind. We had gone over it countless times, and each man knew his part. Yet, as the reality of our impending battle loomed closer, a gnawing tension clawed at the edges of my thoughts. I fought to suppress it, focusing instead on the task ahead.
Bianchi’s stronghold was a fortress in every sense of the word. The flat roof, bristling with armed guards and surveillance cameras, only added to the foreboding atmosphere. A single narrow entrance lay at the front, flanked by two imposing iron gates. It was a place designed to intimidate, to remind visitors that they were entering the lion’s den.
“All right, gather around,” I instructed as my lieutenants closed in on me. We studied the blueprint of Bianchi’s stronghold one last time, ensuring everyone knew their positions and routes. “Remember, Antonio Bianchi is down to just a handful of loyal men. But don’t underestimate them; they’ll be more dangerous than ever.”
“Who are our main targets?” one lieutenant asked, his eyes focused on the map.
“Antonio Bianchi, obviously,” I replied, my voice steady but intense. “But also Bianchi’s son, Frankie, and Luca Carbone. They all need to be taken out. Bianchi for what he’s done to our family, Frankie for hurting Liliana, and Luca because he’s the animal who kept his wife and daughter separated to force them to behave.”
“Whatever you want, boss,” another lieutenant nodded, determination etched on his face.
“Stay sharp, and watch each other’s backs,” I continued, meeting each man’s gaze, making sure they understood the gravity of the situation. “We’re not leaving without bringing an end to this war. We owe it to our family, to our people, and to Liliana.”
A chorus of resolute agreement met my words, and I knew then that we were ready. We had prepared for this moment, honed our skills and strategies, and now was the time to strike. As we moved into position, I thought about Liliana, the woman who had become the center of my world. Protecting her meant everything to me, and I was prepared to do whatever it took to ensure her safety.
“Let’s go,” I commanded, my voice a low growl as we advanced toward the stronghold. The air crackled with tension and anticipation, but I felt an odd sense of calm wash over me. I knew we were ready; our plan was solid, and our men were skilled and loyal.
As we approached the stronghold, I signaled for my men to spread out and take cover wherever they could.
“Take out the guards on the roof first,” I said into my mic, focusing on the sentries above. “Make it quick and clean.”
“Roger that, boss,” came the terse reply from my sharpshooter. Within moments, the guards dropped one by one, their lifeless bodies crumpling to the roof in an eerie silence.
“Move in,” I ordered, leading my men toward the entrance of the compound. As we breached the doors, a hailstorm of bullets erupted around us, and we dove for cover, returning fire with unrelenting fury.
