Chapter 10 - The Siege at Federal Plaza
By noon, the rain had turned into a stinging sleet that battered the soaring glass towers of downtown Chicago.
A three-car convoy approached the underground security sally port of the Dirksen Federal Building on Dearborn Street.
Bella sat in the middle vehicle between Aleandro Moretti and a trembling, handcuffed Salvatore Bianke.
Upstairs on the eleventh floor, Assistant United States Attorney Elena Martinez was waiting with an emergency grand jury panel and four federal magistrates.
The encrypted drive sat securely inside an evidence pouch pinned inside Bella’s canvas jacket.
""We are entering the subterranean approach,"" Gallo warned from the front seat, his knuckles white against the steering wheel.
The convoy descended down the concrete ramp into the dim, cavernous loading dock beneath the federal plaza.
Suddenly, a heavy municipal snowplow painted in city utility yellow roared out from behind a concrete pillar.
The massive steel blade slammed violently into the lead security SUV, crushing the engine block in an explosion of steam and shattered glass.
""Ambush!"" Gallo shouted, slamming his foot on the brake as the middle SUV skidded across the slick concrete floor.
From behind the concrete support pillars, six men in tactical body armor and black balaclavas emerged, firing automatic weapons into the convoy.
The deafening roar of gunfire echoed violently off the low concrete ceilings of the parking garage.
""Get down on the floor!"" Moretti roared, throwing his massive frame over Bella and Bianke in the back seat.
Rounds tore through the vehicle’s reinforced side doors with loud, metallic thuds, spider-webbing the bullet-resistant glass.
""Vance knows Bianke is in this car!"" Bella yelled over the deafening cacophony of gunfire.
""He is trying to wipe out the whole convoy before we reach the security elevators!""
Gallo kicked open the driver’s side door, firing his carbine with deadly suppression bursts, keeping the shooters pinned behind the concrete pillars.
""Move to the federal elevator bank now!"" Gallo screamed, tossing a smoke grenade into the center of the loading bay.
Thick, choking grey smoke billowed across the concrete floor, obscuring the muzzle flashes of the attackers.
Moretti kicked open the rear door, grabbed Bianke by the collar of his suit with one hand, and hauled Bella out with the other.
""Run for the steel blast doors, Isabella!"" Moretti ordered, drawing his weapon and returning fire into the blinding smoke.
Bullets ricocheted off the concrete walls around them, sending showers of hot sparks and stone chips raining over their heads.
Bianke stumbled, letting out a shriek as a stray bullet grazed his calf, but Moretti dragged him forward like a sack of dead weight.
They reached the reinforced steel doors of the federal elevator bank, twenty yards from safety.
Suddenly, a figure stepped out from behind the emergency generator room, his face illuminated by the flashing tactical lights.
Captain Douglas Vance stood blocking the threshold, his police uniform disheveled, his eyes bloodshot and completely unhinged.
In his right hand, Vance held a heavy twelve-gauge tactical shotgun pointed straight at Bella’s chest.
""Give me that drive, girl, or I will paint this concrete with your brains!"" Vance screamed, his voice cracking with desperate madness.
""It's over, Vance!"" Bella shouted, stepping forward despite the yawning barrel of the shotgun.
""The feds already have the remote mirror; your entire life is over!""
""Shut up!"" Vance roared, leveling the shotgun to pull the trigger.
Before the blast could erupt, Aleandro Moretti lunged across the open space, throwing his entire body between Bella and the weapon.
The deafening roar of the shotgun blast ripped through the concrete chamber.
The heavy buckshot tore through the left shoulder of Moretti’s coat, spraying crimson across the grey concrete floor.
Moretti grunted in pain, but he did not fall; he drove forward with the momentum of a freight train.
His uninjured right arm struck Vance across the throat, slamming the corrupt police captain against the steel blast doors with bone-shattering force.
The shotgun clattered away across the floor.
Moretti pinned Vance against the steel, his hand wrapped around the captain’s windpipe, lifting the grown man several inches off the pavement.
""You killed Anthony Rossi,"" Moretti growled, blood soaking through the wool of his left sleeve.
""And now you die in the dirt like the dog you are.""
Moretti’s hand began to crush the man’s trachea, Vance’s face turning a sickening shade of purple as his boots kicked uselessly in the air.
""Aleandro, stop!"" Bella screamed, rushing forward and grabbing his bleeding right arm with both hands.
Moretti froze, his chest heaving, his dark eyes burning with murderous intent.
""Do not do this,"" Bella pleaded, looking straight into his eyes.
""If you kill him here, you become the criminal they want you to be.""
""Let the law destroy him; let my father have his justice in the light of day!""
Moretti looked at her desperate face, feeling her small hands holding his arm back from murder for the second time in seventy-two hours.
The rage in his dark eyes slowly receded, replaced by an exhaustion that ran bone-deep.
He opened his fingers, letting Captain Douglas Vance drop like a sack of rubbish onto the cold concrete.
At that exact moment, the heavy blast doors hissed open with a loud hydraulic release.
A dozen federal marshals poured through the entryway with weapons raised, their tactical flashlights cutting through the dissipating smoke.
""Federal Marshals! Nobody move!"" their commander shouted.
Bella reached into her jacket, pulled out the clear evidence pouch containing the encrypted drive, and thrust it into the lead marshal's hands.
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""This is the master ledger of Captain Douglas Vance and Salvatore Bianke,"" Bella announced with unshakeable clarity.
""Arrest these men for the murder of Anthony Rossi.""
