Chapter 49
At the construction site, the air was thick with blood and pulverized concrete. Dante had systematically neutralized more than half of the Corsican hit squad, but he had taken a grazing bullet to his ribcage. Antoine had managed to corner him against a sheer concrete retaining wall, a heavy magnum revolver aimed directly at Dante’s head.
"The legend ends here, Russo," Antoine laughed, a sickening, triumphant sound.
At that exact, breathless microsecond, the night sky over Rome was violently torn apart by the deafening roar of heavy helicopter rotors and the ear-piercing wail of police sirens. Dozens of heavily armored DIA tactical vehicles smashed through the corrugated iron fencing, their blinding, high-wattage searchlights illuminating the entire construction site like a stadium.
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"Drop your weapons! You are completely surrounded!" A booming voice commanded through an amplified megaphone.
Antoine panicked, his focus breaking for a crucial fraction of a second. Dante didn't miss the window. He surged forward with explosive speed, driving a devastating, thousand-pound punch into Antoine’s jaw, knocking the massive Frenchman unconscious onto the concrete and kicking the revolver away. As the Italian special forces swarmed the perimeter, Dante melted seamlessly into the shadows of the concrete pillars, escaping through an abandoned drainage tunnel he had scouted earlier. He left Antoine alive for the authorities—a life sentence in a maximum-security Italian prison would be the most poetic, agonizing justice for the arrogant warlord, mirroring the exact, miserable fate of the traitor Luca.
