Chapter 8 - THE COUNTER-STRIKE
The clock struck 2:00 a.m. Lorenzo had spent the last three hours on a burner phone, rallying his surviving capos. The Moretti family was battered, but they were vicious, and Lorenzo was a tactical genius.
"The Rossis and Judge Carter are celebrating at the Diamond Club downtown," Lorenzo announced, hanging up the phone. "They think I'm dead. They think the city is theirs."
"The Diamond Club is a fortress," Marco wheezed from the futon. "Biometric locks. Steel doors. We can't get twenty men inside."
"We don't need twenty," Evelyn said suddenly. The room went silent. Lorenzo looked at her.
"I used to cater there," Evelyn said, her voice hard. The revelation about her uncle had burned away her fear, leaving only a cold, focused anger. "The VIP lounge is directly above the central ventilation shaft. If you bypass the alleyway exhaust fan, you can drop a canister of tear gas straight into their private room. They'll blind themselves running out the fire escape."
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Lorenzo smiled. It wasn't a cold smile this time. It was genuine, predatory admiration.
"You're a very dangerous woman, Evelyn," he said, tossing her a Kevlar vest. "Put this on. You're going to show me exactly where that exhaust fan is."
