Chapter 5 - THE GHOST TRAIN AT THE RAIL YARD
The abandoned municipal rail yard on the shores of Lake Michigan was a sprawling labyrinth of rusted train cars, overgrown weeds, and towering industrial cranes. Fog rolled off the dark water, wrapping the skeletal iron frames of the locomotives in a ghostly, suffocating shroud.
Luca’s convoy of black SUVs killed their headlights a half-mile away, rolling silently along the gravel access road until they parked behind a row of rusted boxcars.
Luca stepped out into the freezing lake wind, his long black coat snapping behind him. Behind him, twenty tactical operatives fanned out silently into the fog, their weapons raised and ready.
Arthur Carter—the former security engineer whose expertise had helped dismantle Harrington's corporate empire days earlier—stepped up beside Luca, holding a ruggedized tactical tablet.
"Thermal imaging shows three heat signatures inside the main repair shed," Arthur whispered, pointing at the glowing screen. "Two guards near the entrance, and one individual—likely Viktor—holding a third, smaller heat signature near the rear loading dock overlooking the water."
"Is she injured?" Luca asked, his voice tight.
"Hard to tell for sure through the corrugated metal, Boss, but the smaller signature is moving. She's scared, but she's breathing."
Luca nodded once. "I'm going in through the roof hatch. Arthur, coordinate the perimeter with Matteo. If anyone tries to move toward the water with my daughter, take them down."
Without waiting for a reply, Luca scaled the rusted iron ladder attached to the side of the towering repair shed like a shadow. The metal was freezing beneath his bare hands, but he felt nothing through the adrenaline pumping furiously through his veins.
He reached the top, crouched low against the corrugated steel roof, and quietly located the square glass skylight hatch.
Peering down through the grime, he saw a horrifying scene.
Inside the cavernous repair shed, illuminated by a single swinging overhead bulb, six-year-old Lucy Moretti sat huddled on a wooden crate. She wore a small yellow coat and pink sneakers, clutching a faded plush bunny against her chest. Her dark hair fell in messy curls around her face, and silent tears tracked down her cheeks.
Standing just a few feet away was Viktor Vance, holding a heavy-caliber pistol loosely in his right hand while talking into a satellite phone with his left.
"I told you, Harrington, the old man is already here," Viktor sneered into the phone. "I'm wrapping this up right now. Once the kid is gone, Moretti will have nothing left to fight for."
Luca didn't hesitate.
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He pulled a heavy tactical knife from his belt, jammed the tip into the edge of the skylight frame, and pried the rusted latch upward with a sharp crack.
Before Viktor could even look up, Luca dropped silently through the opening, landing squarely on top of the enforcer like a falling boulder.
