CHAPTER 7 Uncle Marco
Fire moved faster through the factory than water could stop it.
Old solvents ignited beneath the machines. Flames climbed steel columns and rolled across the ceiling like a living thing.
Marco dragged Luca toward the loading bay.
The boy’s face was cut, but he was walking.
That meant the blood was probably from glass.
Probably.
Sophia whispered Emma’s name beside me.
I gripped her shoulders.
“Walsh’s team is inside.”
“That doesn’t mean they found her.”
“No.”
“Then stop saying it like it should comfort me.”
The front doors were chained from the inside.
I shot the lock and kicked them open.
Smoke filled the entrance corridor.
Marco’s men fired from behind overturned tables.
I returned fire while Sophia crawled toward a concrete divider.
She had no weapon.
I had tried to keep it that way.
That lasted less than thirty seconds.
A wounded guard fell near her, and she took his pistol.
“You know how to use that?” I asked.
“My father taught me.”
“Your father taught you to shoot?”
“My father had three daughters and owned a liquor store in Queens.”
She fired twice toward a man advancing through the smoke.
He dropped behind cover.
“Yes,” she said. “He taught us.”
We moved deeper into the factory.
The main floor had become chaos.
Sprinklers poured water onto chemical flames.
Paint fumes burned my throat.
A federal agent waved us toward a stairwell.
“We found the office. The girl wasn’t there.”
Sophia’s face collapsed.
“Was there blood?”
“No.”
That was all we had.
No blood meant hope.
We reached the upper corridor just as an explosion shook the building.
A section of ceiling collapsed behind us.
Captain Walsh emerged through the smoke with Luca’s abandoned jacket.
“I found this near the loading bay.”
“Marco has him.”
“We saw them heading toward the freight elevator.”
“Emma?”
“No sign.”
Sophia turned toward the maintenance platform.
A silver star gleamed near the railing.
Emma’s backpack.
Sophia ran.
I followed.
The platform ended above a storage pit filled with empty paint drums.
The backpack lay open.
A trail of crackers led toward a ventilation shaft.
Emma had been hiding food in her bag.
The habit Sophia hated had become a trail.
We followed the crackers.
The shaft was narrow enough for a child but too small for us.
Sophia knelt.
“Emma!”
A faint voice answered from the darkness.
“Mom?”
Sophia pressed both hands against the metal opening.
“I’m here.”
“I can’t get out.”
“Keep talking.”
“The door fell.”
A section of burning debris had blocked the far side of the vent.
Smoke was entering behind her.
Walsh ordered two agents to find another access point.
Sophia looked at the bolts securing the vent cover.
“Shoot them.”
“The bullet could ricochet.”
“Then give me something.”
I found a steel pipe and struck the frame.
Once.
Twice.
The screws began tearing loose.
Emma coughed inside.
“I’m scared.”
Sophia placed her face near the opening.
“Remember the number song Daddy taught you?”
“Yes.”
“Sing it for me.”
Emma began softly.
Two.
Seven.
One.
Three.
Five.
Eight.
Each number came between coughs.
Sophia sang with her while I broke the final bolt.
We pulled the cover free.
Emma crawled into her mother’s arms.
For a moment, the fire, guns and collapsing building disappeared.
There was only Sophia holding her daughter.
Only Emma whispering that she knew her mother would come.
Then the freight elevator began descending.
Marco was leaving with Luca.
I ran toward the stairs.
Sophia caught my arm.
“I’m coming.”
“Get Emma outside.”
“Walsh can take her.”
“You almost lost her.”
“And you are about to lose him.”
Her words stopped me.
Sophia handed Emma to Captain Walsh.
“Stay with her.”
Emma wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck.
“Don’t go.”
Sophia kissed her forehead.
“Luca came back for you. Now I have to help bring him back.”
Walsh took Emma.
Sophia and I descended through smoke toward the loading bay.
The freight elevator opened onto an underground rail tunnel once used to transport chemicals to the waterfront.
Marco waited beside a maintenance cart.
Luca stood in front of him.
Victor Hale stood behind him.
Two other men guarded the tunnel.
Marco raised his gun.
“Put yours down.”
I obeyed.
Sophia did not.
Victor aimed at her.
“Mrs. Bennett.”
“Where is the ledger?” Marco asked.
“In a place where it will be released if anything happens to us.”
“You learned that from Daniel.”
“I learned many things from my husband.”
Marco glanced at Luca.
“I loved you like a nephew.”
Luca stared at him.
“No, you didn’t.”
Marco’s face tightened.
“You don’t understand.”
“You killed my mom.”
“I made a decision to protect your father.”
“My dad didn’t ask you to.”
For the first time, Marco seemed to have no answer.
Luca continued.
“You said family means you don’t leave people alone when they’re scared.”
Marco lowered the gun slightly.
“You remember that?”
“You told me after Mom died.”
Something like regret crossed Marco’s face.
Then Victor laughed.
“Are we having a family meeting?”
He raised his gun toward Luca.
Marco turned.
“Lower it.”
Victor did not.
“Senator Cole’s orders.”
“I said lower it.”
“The senator is finished with you.”
Victor fired.
Marco pushed Luca aside.
The bullet struck Marco in the shoulder.
I reached for my weapon.
One of the guards fired at me.
Sophia shot him first.
The tunnel erupted.
I pulled Luca behind the maintenance cart.
Marco fired at Victor.
Victor disappeared through a service door.
The second guard ran toward the waterfront exit.
Sophia followed him with two shots.
Then the ceiling groaned.
Fire had weakened the supports above us.
“Move!” I shouted.
We climbed onto the maintenance cart.
Marco collapsed beside the controls.
Blood soaked his coat.
I could have left him.
Part of me wanted to.
He had killed Elena.
He had destroyed Daniel.
He had taken my son.
But Luca looked at me.
“Dad.”
He did not ask me to save Marco.
He did not need to.
I dragged Marco onto the cart.
Sophia activated the motor.
We sped through the tunnel as the factory collapsed behind us.
The exit opened near the harbor.
Federal vehicles surrounded the tracks.
Agents pulled Luca and Sophia to safety.
I remained beside Marco.
He coughed blood.
“Cole has another copy of the ledger,” he whispered.
“Where?”
“He never wanted the money.”
“What did he want?”
Marco looked toward Luca.
“To own your name.”
His hand closed around my sleeve.
“Elena discovered the truth too late.”
“What truth?”
Marco’s eyes drifted shut.
I struck his face lightly.
“Stay awake.”
He opened them once more.
“Your father didn’t build the Moretti organization.”
May you like
His voice was barely audible.
“Senator Cole did.”
