Chapter 12 - The Betrayal at Harbor Terminal
Gideon pressed his back flat against the cold marble pillar in the central hallway,
holding his breath as three armed mercenaries moved in a tight tactical diamond formation.
Their black battle armor absorbed the light,
their night-vision goggles glowing with an eerie green hue in the dark.
Without making a sound,
Gideon stepped out from behind the pillar,
raising his custom handgun.
He squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession,
the silenced gunshots sounding like soft snaps in the empty hall.
The heavy 9mm rounds struck the neck joints of the lead two mercenaries,
dropping them instantly to the carpeted floor.
The third mercenary attempted to spin around,
raising his submachine gun,
but Gideon closed the distance in a fraction of a second.
Gideon grabbed the barrel of the weapon,
twisting it violently sideways while driving his elbow into the mercenary’s throat.
The man gasped for air as Gideon pulled a combat knife from his tactical vest,
driving the blade through the armor gap beneath the soldier's chin.
The mercenary collapsed into a lifeless heap at Gideon's feet.
Gideon picked up the fallen soldier's submachine gun,
checking the magazine before pressing his radio comms button.
"Lucas,"
Gideon whispered,
"the ground floor sweep team is neutralized."
"Report your status."
"Boss!"
Lucas yelled over the radio,
the sound of heavy automatic gunfire echoing in the background.
"We’re pinned down in the security courtyard!"
"Dominic Antonio is here!"
Gideon’s eyes widened with shock at the name.
Dominic Antonio was the thirty-two-year-old son of Don Antonio,
the venerable head of the South Side mob family.
"Dominic?"
Gideon asked,
his tone icy.
"He brought twenty of his own men!"
Lucas shouted above the deafening noise.
"He betrayed his father,
Gideon!"
"He cut a deal with Senator Croft to take over the waterfront terminal in exchange for wiping us out!"
Gideon sprinted through the dark service corridor,
kicking open the heavy steel door leading out into the rear driveway.
The snow-covered courtyard was a chaotic war zone,
illuminated by burning security vehicles and flashing muzzle fire.
Lucas and four surviving Crosswell loyalists were crouched behind an armored SUV,
returning fire against a line of mercenaries and mobsters positioned near the grand iron gates.
Standing on the bed of a heavy pickup truck at the center of the gate was Dominic Antonio,
wearing a white fur-collared leather coat,
holding a gold-plated assault rifle.
"Gideon!"
Dominic screamed over the roar of gunfire,
his face contorted with insane ambition.
"Your era is finished,
old man!"
"The South Side belongs to me now!"
"Senator Croft guaranteed me complete immunity!"
Gideon moved through the deep snow like an unstoppable force of nature,
flanking around the perimeter wall under cover of the rising smoke.
He raised his submachine gun,
firing a controlled ten-round burst that took down two of Dominic’s personal guards.
Dominic ducked in panic,
his gold rifle clattering against the metal bed of the truck.
"Cover me!"
Dominic shrieked at his driver,
scrambling into the passenger cabin.
"Get us out of here!"
The pickup truck spun its wheels wildly against the slick snow,
bashing through the wooden fence as it sped away toward the harbor district.
Gideon ran over to Lucas,
who was clutching a bleeding leg wound near the burning SUV.
"Are you hit bad?"
Gideon asked,
kneeling beside his head of security.
"It's just a graze,
boss,"
Lucas gritted his teeth,
tying a tight tourniquet around his thigh.
"Don't let that traitor reach the harbor terminal!"
"If Dominic hands the master shipping codes over to Croft’s team at Dock 42,"
Lucas gasped,
"Croft will control every cargo ship entering the Midwest!"
Gideon helped Lucas stand,
turning to the surviving tactical squad.
"Get the perimeter secure and safeguard Elena and the girls,"
May you like
Gideon commanded.
"I am going to Dock 42 alone."
