CHAPTER 3 — THE DEVIL OF CHICAGO
CHAPTER 3 — THE DEVIL OF CHICAGO
The first bullet shattered the silence before Nora even had time to process the name.
"Luca!"
She never finished the warning.
Luca Moretti had already shoved her behind the burned shell of a shipping container as automatic gunfire ripped across the dock.
Steel screamed.
Snow exploded into white clouds.
The air filled with sparks and splintering concrete.
"Stay down," he ordered.
"They'll kill us!"
"They'll try."
His voice was unnervingly calm.
As if twenty rifles pointed at him were merely an inconvenience.
Across the dock, twelve armed men spread into formation with military precision.
Their leader stepped forward.
A broad-shouldered man in a charcoal overcoat, silver hair dusted with snow, a scar running from the corner of his eye to his jaw.
He smiled.
"So it's true."
Luca didn't answer.
"I heard the great Luca Moretti disappeared six months ago after the Milan Accord." The man laughed softly. "Imagine finding you in a collapsing warehouse... rescuing a waitress."
Nora looked at Luca.
Disappeared?
Who was this man?
The silver-haired leader continued.
"You've grown sentimental."
"I've grown impatient."
Luca raised his pistol.
"So finish talking."
The man's smile vanished.
"Kill him."
The night exploded.
Gunfire echoed across the frozen harbor.
But Luca never stayed where the bullets landed.
He moved through the snow like someone who had survived too many nights exactly like this.
Two shots.
Two men fell.
He ducked behind a forklift before a hail of bullets shredded the metal above him.
Another attacker rushed from the left.
Luca caught the rifle barrel, twisted sharply—
A sickening crack.
The man's arm broke.
One elbow to the throat.
One suppressed shot.
Done.
Nora could barely breathe.
This wasn't fighting.
It was calculation.
Every movement was measured.
Every bullet mattered.
Yet there were too many enemies.
One by one they surrounded him.
The silver-haired man grinned again.
"Even legends run out of ammunition."
Click.
Luca's pistol emptied.
For the first time that night...
He frowned.
Three rifles lifted toward his chest.
Nora's heart stopped.
"No!"
Without thinking, she sprinted from cover.
She grabbed a rusted metal barrel and shoved it with everything she had.
The barrel rolled downhill across the icy dock.
One gunman instinctively jumped aside.
Another stumbled.
The formation broke for just one second.
One second was enough.
Luca seized a dropped rifle.
Three controlled bursts.
Three attackers collapsed.
He turned toward Nora.
"What are you doing?"
"I couldn't just watch!"
"You almost got yourself killed."
"I noticed!"
Despite everything...
A flicker of amusement crossed Luca's face.
The first emotion she'd seen from him all night.
It disappeared immediately.
Because more headlights appeared.
Not two vehicles.
Five.
Reinforcements.
The silver-haired leader laughed.
"You can't win tonight."
Luca looked toward the river.
Then toward Nora.
"We're leaving."
"How?"
He pointed at the frozen canal behind the dock.
"Trust me."
Before she could ask another question, he grabbed her hand.
Together they ran.
Bullets chased them across the snow.
Then—
Crash!
Luca kicked through the thin ice.
Both of them plunged into the freezing water beneath.
The current swept them under the dock just as hundreds of bullets tore across the surface above.
The Black Harbor gunmen watched in disbelief.
One whispered,
"Nobody survives that."
The silver-haired leader stared into the dark water.
May you like
After a long silence, he said,
"...Search every mile downstream."
