Chapter 5 - The Ambush at the Docks
Gabriel snatched the red phone off its cradle on the second ring.
"Report," he commanded.
"Boss, it's Frank!" the bodyguard's panicked voice came through the speaker, accompanied by the muffled sound of shouting and screeching tires in the background. "They aren't waiting for tomorrow! Vance moved early! A convoy of four SUVs just smashed through the lower garage security gates! They're coming up the service elevators right now!"
Gabriel’s eyes went dark as pitch. "How many?"
"At least fifteen men! They've cut the main power to the building! I'm holding the main corridor near the elevator shaft, but—"
A loud burst of automatic gunfire drowned out Frank's voice, followed by static.
Gabriel slammed the receiver down.
Hannah grabbed his arm, her face white as paper. "Gabriel! What's happening?"
"Vance didn't wait for the meeting," Gabriel said, his voice dropping into a chilling, absolute calm. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a heavy, matte-black Sig Sauer pistol, racking the slide with a sharp clack. He reached into the back of the drawer and pulled out a second, smaller revolver, placing it firmly into Hannah's hand.
Hannah looked at the cold metal in her palm, terrified. "I... I don't know how to use this!"
"Point it at the door," Gabriel instructed, his eyes locking onto hers with fierce, unwavering command. "If the door opens and it is not me or Frank, pull the trigger until it stops clicking. Do you understand me, Hannah?"
"Gabriel, please—"
"Do you understand me?" he barked.
"Yes!" she sobbed. "Yes, I understand!"
Maya began to cry in her crib, startled by the noise and the sudden tension radiating through the room.
Gabriel walked over to the crib, looked down at the screaming child, and reached out, gently pressing his palm against Maya's cheek for one second. "Stay quiet, kid," he whispered softly. "I'll be right back."
Gabriel turned, unlocked the heavy oak double doors of the master suite, and stepped out into the pitch-black hallway.
The emergency backup lights flickered on, casting long, eerie red shadows across the white marble floor.
Fifty feet down the corridor, three men in tactical gear armed with suppressed submachine guns were pushing past Frank's motionless body near the elevator bank.
"Marlowe!" one of the men shouted, bringing his weapon up.
Gabriel didn't hesitate.
He raised his Sig Sauer and fired three shots in rapid succession. The loud crack-crack-crack echoed through the narrow hallway like thunder. Two of the men dropped instantly, blood spattering against the mahogany wall paneling. The third man dived behind a marble pillar, returning fire.
Bullets tore through the air, shattering the glass wall sconces, showering Gabriel in falling crystal.
Gabriel moved with lethal, practiced precision. He advanced down the corridor, firing methodically, using the architectural pillars as cover, closing the distance like a phantom.
He rounded the corner near the elevator bank, grabbed the surviving gunman by the tactical vest, slammed him viciously against the wall, and drove his combat knife into the man's throat.
The man collapsed in a heap.
Silence fell over the hallway, broken only by the sound of the elevator motor humming upstairs.
Gabriel stood over the bodies, his breathing steady, his suit lapels speckled with blood. He checked his magazine—four rounds left. He reloaded swiftly from a spare clip in his pocket.
The elevator doors opened with a soft chime.
Victor Vance stepped out into the hallway, holding a custom nickel-plated revolver. Behind him stood four heavily armed Morello family enforcers.
Vance looked at the three dead men on the floor, then up at Gabriel. A cold, bitter smile spread across his face.
"You always were a violent bastard, Gabriel," Vance said, his gun pointed directly at Gabriel's chest. "But you're outnumbered, and your perimeter is completely destroyed. The Morellos own the bottom ten floors of this building now."
"You sold out your own family for a piece of the docks, Victor," Gabriel said coldly, not lowering his weapon an inch.
"I sold out a weak leader who let a maid and a bastard baby turn him into a soft target!" Vance spat, his eyes blazing with hatred. "Look at you! You're fighting in the hallway of your own home! You used to be untouchable, Gabriel! Now you're just a man with something to lose!"
"You're right about one thing, Victor," Gabriel said softly, his voice echoing off the blood-stained marble walls.
Vance frowned slightly. "What?"
"I do have something to lose," Gabriel rasped. "Which means I have no reason to let any of you walk out of this building alive."
Before Vance could pull his trigger, Gabriel threw himself sideways into the open recess of a service alcove, firing four rapid shots as he fell.
Two of the Morello enforcers dropped before they could even raise their rifles. The remaining two fired wildly into the alcove, bullets chewing into the plasterwork.
Vance screamed in frustration, firing three shots blindly around the corner. "Kill him! Kill him now!"
Gabriel crouched in the dark alcove, his mind calm, calculating the remaining rounds, listening to the heavy footsteps advancing toward his position. He waited until the footsteps were three feet away—
He swept out from the shadows, grabbing the barrel of the first guard's rifle, forcing it upward as it discharged into the ceiling. Gabriel slammed an elbow into the man's jaw, seized his sidearm, and fired two rounds into the second guard's chest.
The second guard collapsed. Gabriel spun, putting a bullet through the chin of the guard he was holding.
Only Victor Vance remained.
Vance backed away down the red-lit hallway, his revolver shaking violently in his grip, his confidence completely shattered. "Gabriel... wait... we can work this out! You take the docks, I'll take Queens! We can tell the Commission—"
Gabriel walked toward him slowly, his face an impassive mask of death, his gun held low at his side.
"There are no negotiations, Victor," Gabriel said.
Vance raised his revolver with a desperate scream—
Crack.
A single shot rang through the hallway.
Victor Vance froze, his eyes widening in shock. A small red hole appeared in the center of his forehead. He dropped his gun, stumbled backward, and collapsed onto the marble floor, motionless.
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Gabriel stood over his former Underboss for a long moment, watching the blood pool around Vance's head under the dim red lights.
Then, without taking another breath, Gabriel turned and sprinted back toward the master suite.
