Chapter 13 - The Wounded Intriguers Reveal A Much Larger Conspiracy
We rushed back toward the iron-reinforced staircase carrying the original ledgers and audio cassettes in a duffel bag. The distant wail of sirens grew louder every second, echoing down through the street grates above.
"We can't take the front stairs; the police will have the restaurant surrounded," Alessandro said decisively. "There's an old subterranean freight tunnel that connects this cellar to the New York subway system."
"How do you know about that tunnel?" I asked, panting as I tried to keep pace with his long strides. "My grandfather built these docks, Sophie. Every building on this block has a secret exit," he replied tersely.
We reached a rusted iron hatch set directly into the back wall of the lower cellar. Alessandro unlatched the heavy wheel mechanism, pulling the steel door open to reveal a dark, damp concrete corridor.
His bodyguards secured the rear, firing a final suppressing shot upward to discourage any immediate pursuit from above. "Go, Sophie! Into the tunnel, now!" Alessandro commanded, pushing me gently through the open hatchway.
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I scrambled into the dark subterranean passage, the smell of damp earth and train tracks filling my lungs. Alessandro followed right behind me, slamming the heavy iron hatch shut and dropping the locking bar into place.
We were running blind through the underground belly of Manhattan, hunted by corrupt federal officials and powerful syndicates. Yet for the first time in fifteen years, I didn't feel like a victim hiding in the shadows.
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