Chapter 13 - the siege of the estate
Dominic didn't raise his voice. "You step foot on my property with federal badges, Miller, and you'll trigger a jurisdictional war that your career won't survive."
"My career?" Miller let out a cold, sharp laugh over the phone. "I have the ballistics matching the bullet in my brother's skull to a firearm registered to Vito Ravello. The search warrants are signed by a federal magistrate. We're rolling out five tactical units now. If you resist, Dominic, it’s not an arrest. It’s an eradication."
The line went dead.
Dominic lowered the phone. He looked at Eleanor.
"Pack your essentials, Ma. You're leaving through the tunnel to the boathouse."
"No," Eleanor said, standing up with sudden, iron-willed resolve. "I ran from this for seven years, Dominic. I watched your brother rot in exile because I was too terrified to face the consequences. I am not running anymore."
Dominic didn't have time to argue. He rushed downstairs to the armory in the basement.
Marco was already there, loading high-capacity magazines into semi-automatic rifles.
"Salvatore and Corrado turned their phones off," Marco reported grimly. "Their crews aren't answering. We're on our own, Boss. Just me, you, and six loyal soldiers on the grounds."
"We don't need an army to stop Miller," Dominic said, checking the slide of a customized .45 caliber pistol. "Miller is coming here with federal marshals because he thinks he has the high ground. He thinks he has the weapon."
"Doesn't he?" Marco asked.
Dominic pulled out the keycard he had taken from the tactical agent at Pier 42. He inspected the burnt edge under the harsh fluorescent bulb of the armory.
"Look at the serial stamp on the back of this card, Marco."
Marco leaned in, squinting. His eyes widened. "That's not a federal authorization code. That's a private security firm out of New Jersey."
Dominic loaded his weapon with a clean, metallic snap. "Miller didn't get federal warrants signed. If he had federal warrants, he wouldn't use off-duty mercenaries to breach Warehouse 7 in the middle of the night. He’s running an illegal, off-the-books hit squad to avenge his brother before the syndicate board realizes what's happening."
"Which means," Marco said, a dark smile spreading across his face, "he’s operating outside the law."
"Which means," Dominic replied, his voice hard as iron, "on this property, he is an intruder. And on this property, the Ravello family makes the rules."
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Dominic turned toward the security monitors. On the perimeter screen, the iron gates of the estate were suddenly rammed open by two black unmarked tactical vans.
"Positions," Dominic commanded. "Nobody shoots until I give the word."
