Chapter 6 - The Gathering of the Storm
That night, the city of Palermo experienced a mobilization the likes of which had not been seen in thirty years.
Over two hundred armored vehicles belonging to the Romano syndicate and its allied families converged on the industrial harbor district. The streets surrounding the old chemical refinery were completely sealed off by armed enforcers clad in dark tactical gear.
Salvatore stood on the roof of a nearby warehouse, wearing a long dark coat, looking through high-powered night-vision binoculars at the heavily fortified refinery.
Beside him stood his four top captains—Antonio, Bruno, Marco, and Vito—representing the complete, undivided strength of the Romano empire.
"Falcone has fortified all four entrances with heavy machine guns," Antonio reported, pointing at the blueprint displayed on a tactical monitor. "He knows he cannot escape the island, so he is trying to force a bloody stalemate until the federal authorities intervene."
"The federal authorities will not intervene tonight," Salvatore said coldly. "The Chief of Police has agreed to clear the area for four hours in exchange for our assistance in dismantling the Corsican cartel's smuggling routes."
Salvatore lowered his binoculars, looking at his men.
"Falcone broke the sacred law of Palermo," Salvatore spoke, his voice carrying like a low horn over the ocean breeze. "He targeted a child. He brought terror to the doorstep of the innocent. If we allow him to live, our code means nothing. Our honor means nothing."
The captains nodded in dark, absolute agreement.
"No quarter, Don Salvatore?" Bruno asked, racking the bolt of his automatic shotgun.
"No quarter," Salvatore commanded. "Erase the Falcone name from Palermo tonight."
May you like
Salvatore pulled a pair of heavy leather gloves onto his hands. He grabbed his custom tactical rifle from the table.
"Move out."
