Chapter 6 - The Ambush at North Point
Before Roman could process the wave of shocking revelations, the heavy glass windows at the end of the asylum hall exploded inward with a deafening crash.
Two tactical tear-gas canisters bounced across the stone floor, spraying clouds of dense, acrid white smoke into the corridor.
"Move!" Roman roared, diving into the cell and slamming his shoulder against the heavy iron door to shelter Isabella and little Emma.
"Roman!" Isabella cried, grabbing Emma in her arms as the child woke up screaming in panic.
Gunfire erupted from the courtyard outside—heavy, automatic bursts from high-caliber assault rifles tearing through the stone walls and wooden doorframes of the asylum.
Roman peeked through the iron bars of the cell door, his eyes watering from the gas.
Through the dense smoke, six tactical operatives dressed in unmarked black gear were advancing up the hallway, their weapons fitted with thermal scopes and suppressors.
These were not Bellandi enforcers. And they were not police.
"Marco! Luca!" Roman barked into his comms, but only loud static answered him. The perimeter teams outside had been jammed.
"They followed us," Roman grunted, checking his magazine. "How did they track us to St. Jude’s?"
"They didn't follow you, Roman," Isabella said, pulling a compact 9mm pistol from her coat pocket with practiced, lethal familiarity. "They followed the tracker in your father's notebook."
Roman’s hand flew to his inner coat pocket where the yellowed journal rested. He pulled it out, ripped open the rear leather binding, and found a tiny, micro-sized GPS beacon embedded inside the spine.
"The book was a Judas goat," Roman spat, crushing the beacon beneath his boot. "Vincent set this trap eight years ago in case anyone ever dug up his secret."
The lead tactical operative reached the cell doorway, bringing his submachine gun up to sweep the room.
Roman didn't wait. He stepped into the doorway, caught the operative's weapon barrel, jammed it upward as a burst tore into the ceiling, and drove his heavy tactical knife straight through the operative's neck armor.
The man collapsed, gurgling blood.
Roman grabbed the fallen soldier's assault rifle and two fresh magazines, spinning around to fire a controlled five-round burst into the remaining five operatives advancing through the smoke.
TAK-TAK-TAK-TAK-TAK!
Three of the operatives hit the floor, their body armor failing against the armor-piercing rounds.
"Isabella! Take Emma and head for the rear drainage tunnels!" Roman yelled over the roaring gunfire. "There's an exit that leads down to the beach!"
May you like
"I built those tunnels, Roman!" Isabella shouted back, firing two precise shots over his shoulder to drop a sixth operative attempting to flank them from the side staircase. "I know where they go! But you can't stay here alone!"
"I'm not alone!" Roman yelled, reloading the rifle with a sharp click. "I'm the head of the Bellandi family! And nobody attacks my blood in my territory!"
