Chapter 12 - Laying Out A Dangerous Trap At The Old Warehouse
By 10:00 AM, Lorenzo’s tactical command center was set up inside an abandoned shipping warehouse two blocks from the Marinos safehouse in Tribeca.
Twelve heavily armed enforcers sat around folding tables reviewing architectural blueprints of the target building on their tablets.
Mason pointed a laser pointer at the second-floor schematic displaying the secure conference room where the document transfer was set to occur.
“The Marinos enforcers will have four guards inside and two patrolling the alleyway,” Mason briefed the team clearly. “We hit them simultaneously from the front and the freight elevator.”
“What about Isabella?” one of the enforcers asked, raising his hand.
“She is primary objective alpha,” Lorenzo commanded, stepping into the center of the room with an assault rifle slung across his chest. “If anyone harms a hair on her head, leave no survivors.”
A chorus of cold affirmations echoed through the warehouse as the men loaded their magazines with heavy-duty ammunition.
Lorenzo checked his sidearm one final time, feeling the familiar, steady rhythm of battle adrenaline settle over his nerves.
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He had buried an empty casket two months ago in grief and sorrow.
Today, he was going to exhume his wife from the jaws of her enemies and burn their empire to ash.
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