Chapter 2 - The Harbor of Blood
The rain at Port Newark tasted like iron, salt, and diesel smoke.
At 1:00 a.m., three unmarked black SUVs pulled into the shadow of Shipping Container Yard 4. The harbor was silent except for the groaning of massive steel cranes swaying in the Atlantic wind.
Nico Falcone stepped out of the lead vehicle, wrapped in a heavy wool coat, his hands gloved, a suppressed tactical pistol resting comfortably in his shoulder holster. Dante and six senior Falcone enforcers fanned out behind him like shadows, their weapons held low and ready.
Fifty yards away, standing near a rusted cargo vessel, was Victor Cassini—the ruthless Underboss of the rival Cassini syndicate—flanked by a dozen heavily armed mercenaries.
"Nico!" Victor called out, his laughter echoing against the metal containers. "Look at you! Walking out in the cold like a ghost! We heard you were busy playing nursemaid to those two useless cripples in your mansion!"
Dante drew his weapon, his face burning with rage, but Nico raised a single hand, stopping his men instantly. Nico’s expression didn't change. His face remained carved out of cold granite, his gray eyes fixed on Victor with terrifying calm.
"You brought twenty men to steal four crates of industrial machinery, Victor," Nico said, his voice easily carrying over the wind. "You came here because you thought the Gardano hit broke me. You thought if you struck my harbor, the other families would see me as weak."
"You ARE weak!" Victor sneered, raising his automatic rifle. "You couldn't even protect your own blood at Gardano's diner! Your kids are broken, Nico! And tonight, your empire follows them!"
Nico didn't blink. "You're wrong about two things, Victor."
Nico signaled with two fingers.
Above them, on the high steel girders of the container cranes, red laser grids suddenly flickered to life, painting twenty crimson dots directly onto the chests of Victor’s mercenaries.
"First," Nico continued, taking a slow step forward, "my children are not broken. They are Falcones. And second... I didn't come here to defend my cargo. I came here to clear the trash off my docks."
"Fire!" Victor screamed in panic.
The harbor erupted into chaos. The suppressed pops of high-caliber sniper rifles cut through the night air like cracking whips. Victor’s men fell before they could even raise their weapons. Dante and the Falcone enforcers moved with lethal, practiced precision, flanking the remaining mercenaries in a matter of seconds.
Nico walked straight through the crossfire, unhurried, his pistol raised. A mercenary lunged at him from behind a crate; Nico stepped side, firing two quick shots into the man's vest, dropping him instantly, before continuing his steady march toward Victor.
Victor stumbled backward against a crane leg, his rifle jammed, blood dripping from a crease on his forehead. He stared in absolute terror as Nico stood over him, towering like an executioner.
"Wait! Nico, wait!" Victor begged, raising his hands. "It wasn't just us! Gardano planned the diner hit! He paid us to draw your security away! He has the ledger! He’s going to give it to the Feds!"
Nico pressed the warm barrel of his pistol directly against Victor’s forehead.
"I already know about the Feds," Nico whispered coldly. "Tell Gardano I'm coming for my ledger. And tell him to start praying."
BANG.
Fifteen minutes later, the harbor was quiet once more. The bodies were cleared, the container yard was secured, and the authority of the Falcone family was restored with absolute, terrifying violence.
Nico sat in the back of his Maybach as Dante drove them back toward the estate. Nico wiped a drop of rain from his cheek, looking out at the passing highway lights. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it up.
It was an automated alert from the hidden security system in his mansion.
ALERT: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED — MASTER STUDY (02:41 AM)
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Nico’s eyes darkened.
While he had been executing his rivals at the harbor, Agent Rosalind Vance had finally made her move.
