Chapter 6 - THE GOLDEN CRUCIFIX
The tarnished gold shield rested on the cracked concrete floor of the subway terminal like a live grenade.
I stared at the engraved letters. Special Agent Maria Reyes.
My vision blurred. The world seemed to tilt violently on its axis. The woman I had loved with every fiber of my being, the woman whose supposed death had turned me into a ruthless monster, had been a federal agent sent to dismantle my family.
I looked at Sofia. The twenty-one-year-old girl was trembling violently, her dark eyes wide with shock. She stared at the badge, then at the bound woman kneeling in the spotlight.
“Mom?” Sofia whispered, her voice cracking. “Is it true?”
Maria wept, struggling against the heavy zip-ties binding her wrists. “Leo, please,” she choked out. “I was an agent. But I fell in love with you. I swear on my soul, I fell in love with you. And Sofia… Sofia is yours. I didn't lie about that.”
“Touching,” Vincenzo drawled, checking his expensive gold wristwatch. “But I’m not here for a family reunion. I’m here for the ledger.”
He aimed his pistol directly at Maria’s head again.
“For twenty years, Maria has been compiling a digital ledger,” Vincenzo stated, his voice echoing coldly. “Bank accounts. Political payoffs. Offshore trusts. Everything I built. She hid the hard drive, and she set up a dead-man's switch. If she doesn't enter a passcode every forty-eight hours, the files automatically upload to the DOJ servers. Her time is up in ten minutes.”
Answer One, Open Two.
Vincenzo didn't kidnap Maria for revenge. He kidnapped her because she held the keys to his destruction. He needed the passcode to stop the upload. But if Maria was an FBI agent, why hadn't she just handed the files over to the government years ago? Why hide in the shadows and raise Sofia alone?
“She won't give me the code,” Vincenzo sneered, grabbing Maria roughly by the hair, forcing her head back. She cried out in pain. “She’s stubborn. Like her daughter. So I’m going to make a trade.”
Vincenzo looked at me.
“Bring the girl to me, Leo,” Vincenzo ordered. “I will trade you Maria for Sofia. I’ll let you walk out of here with your precious undercover rat. I just need the daughter to encourage the mother to give me the code.”
He was going to torture Sofia in front of Maria to break her.
“I’m not giving you my daughter,” I snarled, raising my weapon, my hands surprisingly steady despite the absolute devastation in my heart. “I don't care if she’s a federal agent. I don't care if she lied to me. I protect my blood.”
“Then you all die,” Vincenzo said, his thumb hovering over the red detonator button.
Suddenly, a loud, metallic clatter echoed from the darkness behind us.
Everyone froze.
Marco stepped forward from the shadows of the utility tunnel.
He didn't have his gun raised. He had his hands in the air.
“Wait, Vincenzo,” Marco called out, his voice calm and terrifyingly smooth.
Marco walked past me, past the bewildered guards, and stepped into the stark illumination of the spotlight. He didn't look at me. He kept his eyes locked on Vincenzo.
“I have the code,” Marco said.
Vincenzo frowned, lowering his pistol slightly. “What are you talking about, Bellini?”
“Maria didn't hide the ledger,” Marco stated, reaching into the breast pocket of his tailored suit. “I did. Because I was her handler twenty-two years ago.”
Reversal.
The breath was violently sucked from my lungs. I staggered backward, my gun dropping an inch.
Marco. My oldest friend. My underboss.
He wasn't a mobster who betrayed me for power. He was a deep-cover federal agent who had infiltrated my family thirty years ago. He was the one who placed Maria in my home. He was the one who orchestrated the entire operation.
“You son of a bitch,” Vincenzo hissed, his face contorting in pure rage. “You’ve been a rat this entire time?”
“I’ve been protecting her,” Marco corrected, his eyes softening as he looked down at Maria. “When the hit went bad on the bridge, I pulled her from the wreckage. I faked her death. I bought the apartment. I paid for Sofia’s upbringing. I kept them safe while I gathered the evidence to take you down, Vincenzo.”
Marco pulled a small, heavy object from his pocket.
It wasn't a flash drive. It wasn't a piece of paper.
It was a heavy, ornate golden crucifix.
“The hard drive isn't a digital file, Vincenzo,” Marco said, holding the crucifix up to the light. “It’s a microscopic memory chip embedded inside this cross. And it requires a biometric thumbprint to unlock the decryption key.”
Marco looked at me, a profound, agonizing sorrow in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Leo,” Marco whispered. “I never meant to hurt you. But I had to finish the mission.”
Marco didn't toss the crucifix to Vincenzo.
He threw it hard onto the rusted subway tracks.
And then, with lightning speed, Marco drew a hidden pistol from his waistband and fired three rapid shots.
He didn't shoot Vincenzo.
He shot the detonator in Vincenzo’s left hand.
The plastic device shattered into a hundred pieces, neutralizing the explosives wired to the pillars.
Vincenzo roared in fury, raising his silver pistol.
Gunfire erupted in the terminal.
The sound was deafening, echoing endlessly in the cavernous space. My guards opened fire on Vincenzo’s men emerging from the shadows. The terminal became a strobe-lit nightmare of muzzle flashes and shouting.
I didn't shoot. I didn't take cover.
I sprinted straight down the tracks toward the center of the crossfire.
May you like
I wasn't running toward Vincenzo.
I was running toward Maria.
