Chapter 11 - The Sit-Down
The warehouse was damp and smelled of rust.
I rolled in, surrounded by six heavily armed men.
Vince Rossi was waiting at a metal table. He had ten men behind him.
"Danny boy," Vince sneered. "Nice wheels."
"Keep it quick, Vince. I have dinner plans."
"You disrespected my family, Danny. You bought a debt that wasn't yours to buy. You killed my boys."
"Your boys broke into my house."
"And now I'm going to break you," Vince snarled.
He gave a signal.
His men raised their weapons.
But before a single shot could be fired, the shadows in the warehouse moved.
Luke and a dozen of my elite snipers stepped out from the catwalks above.
Red laser sights danced across the chests of Vince's men.
Vince froze, his face turning pale.
"You didn't think I'd come to a trap without a bigger trap, did you?" I said, my voice cold.
"You shoot me, this starts a full gang war!" Vince yelled.
"No, Vince. A war implies two equal sides fighting. This is just pest control."
I pulled my Glock and aimed it directly at his head.
"Tell your men to drop the guns. Now."
One by one, the metal weapons clattered to the concrete floor.
May you like
"Leave Chicago," I told Vince. "If I see your face in this city again, my men won't aim for your legs like that sniper aimed for mine. They'll aim for your head."
Vince nodded, sweating profusely, and backed away.
