Chapter 18 - The Venice Connection
The shockwave from the explosion threw us flat onto the carpeted floor of the main corridor as thick smoke,
shattered glass,
and burning plaster rained down around us.
Gabriel emerged from the smoke,
his dark suit covered in grey plaster dust,
his pistol still held firm in his hand,
his face unyielding as a mountain of stone.
"Valenti!
Moretti!"
Gabriel barked through the haze.
"Get to the subterranean bunker!"
The two surviving Capos,
terrified and coughing violently from the acrid smoke,
scrambled down the service stairs toward the safe room below.
Carmine helped me to my feet,
checking my hands and coat for injuries.
"You alright,
Elena?"
Carmine asked,
his voice strained over the ringing in his ears.
"I'm fine,"
I gasped,
wiping soot from my forehead.
"The drone was a single-strike unit,"
"it won't have a secondary missile."
"They thought Santoro's beacon would take out the entire leadership in one blow."
Gabriel stepped over a pile of smoldering debris,
looking out through the ruined wall where the drawing room had stood seconds earlier.
Rain was pouring into the mansion,
dousing the small fires creeping across the broken furniture.
He picked up the small,
silver satellite transmitter from Santoro's fallen jacket and handed it to me.
"Can you reverse the signal?"
Gabriel asked,
his eyes burning with a cold,
predatory light that I had come to know so well.
I pulled out my handheld interface,
connecting a cable directly to the scorched circuit board of the beacon.
"The signal didn't route through Zurich,"
I analyzed,
my fingers working rapidly despite the freezing rain blowing into the hallway.
"It was relayed through a private mega-yacht anchored three miles off the coast of Newport,
Rhode Island."
"The vessel is registered as The Sovereign Silk,"
"owned by Lord Julian Vance."
Gabriel's eyebrows narrowed instantly.
"Julian Vance,"
Gabriel repeated softly.
"The uncle of Vance and Victoria Sterling."
"The head of the Apex Council himself,"
I confirmed.
"He came across the Atlantic personally to oversee the final acquisition of our territory."
"He believes Gabriel Falcone is dead in the ruins of this mansion,"
I added,
looking up at Gabriel.
"He thinks his drone strike succeeded."
A slow,
dangerous smile spread across Gabriel's blood-stained face.
"Then let him enjoy his celebration,"
Gabriel said softly.
"Carmine,"
Gabriel commanded,
turning to his chief enforcer.
"Prepare the offshore high-speed interceptor at the Jersey City marina."
"We are going to Newport."
"And this time,"
Gabriel declared,
looking directly at me,
"we aren't bringing evidence."
"We are bringing an ending."
Two hours later,
we were speeding across the choppy,
dark waters of the Long Island Sound inside our dark,
armored offshore vessel.
The rain had settled into a dense,
heavy fog that blanketed the ocean,
concealing our approach from standard marine radar.
I sat in the main cabin,
dressed in a form-fitting black tactical suit,
checking the chemical composition of three specialized aerosol canisters I had prepared from my portable lab kit.
"What's in those canisters,
Elena?"
Carmine asked,
checking the magazines of his silenced submachine gun.
"It's a localized neutralizing agent,"
I explained,
adjusting the pressure valves on the steel canisters.
"Lord Julian Vance's yacht is entirely lined with acoustic-reactive silk tapestries."
"He uses them to neutralize any electronic bugging devices or private listening equipment."
"If I release this compound into the yacht's air filtration system,"
"it will turn those silk tapestries into a liquid solvent,"
"melting his security network and blinding his entire internal defense grid in less than sixty seconds."
Gabriel sat across from me,
checking the slide on his weapon.
"You continue to amaze me,
girl,"
Gabriel said quietly,
his tone filled with genuine,
fatherly pride.
"Eighteen surgeons looked at me and saw a corpse,"
"but you saw a path to victory."
"Tonight,"
May you like
Gabriel added,
"we finish what your mother started thirty years ago."
