As I moved my scope to Craig’s area, I saw the person I hadn’t gotten a good view of before as he moved a little closer to the building to get out of Craig’s line of sight. He was a big guy, dressed all in black and had a dark cap on his head. The clothing didn’t matter, though, because I got a clear view of his face.
Mario Leone.
Mario was Rinaldo’s bodyguard and was never far away from his boss without a damn good reason. There was absolutely no reason for him to be here at a cargo drop-off for Gavino’s organization—none whatsoever. He certainly wouldn’t be here without his boss knowing about it.
As my muscles tightened, I checked out the whole area again. Back behind the main building was another smaller structure right next to the substation. There was a familiar car beside it—one that had not been there before.
If I had been on top of the main building where I had told Trent I would be, I probably would have seen it pull up. From where I was, the scope’s vision was narrow enough that I missed it. Beside the car were three more people. Two I didn’t recognize, but one I knew very well.
Rinaldo.
“Oh fuck, no.”
I immediately reached into my jeans and yanked out my phone. I hit his number and watched him through the scope as he glanced down, pulled his own phone out of his pocket, and glared down at the display. His eyes looked up to the closest building—right where the other sniper was located—and then started scanning the other tall buildings within view.
Through the vision in the scope, it looked like his eyes found me, but I was too far away for him to see. I watched him turn away slightly and touch his hand to his ear. Then he pressed a button on the side of his phone and shoved it back into his pocket.
“Answer the fucking phone,” I growled as I called again.
He didn’t. Instead, he touched his hand to his ear again and looked up toward the other sniper.
“Fuck.”
I dropped down flat against the concrete roof as a bolt whizzed right past my ear. Who was paying the sniper was now completely clear, at least. I grabbed the Barrett and quickly focused on the sniper across the way as another shot rushed past me.
He was reloading—not even looking down the scope as I pulled back on the trigger and watched his body slump. Grabbing my phone back off the ground, I typed out a quick text message, hoping Rinaldo would at least read the first bit before deciding to ignore me again.
GET OUT NOW FEDS ON THE WAY
He didn’t even glance at the phone.
“Motherfucker!”
Thinking about the consequences of what I was going to do didn’t even really enter my mind—I just knew I had to get to him and make him listen to me. If he wasn’t going to look at the phone, I had only one other choice.
Though I couldn’t hear them, I could see the increase in activity across the river. The shots from the other sniper had been heard, and people were starting to duck into and behind their vehicles as they tried to determine who was the shooter and who was the target.
I grabbed the Barrett by the carrying handle without even bothering to disassemble it first and tossed my duffel bag over my shoulder. I pulled the bipod assembly up against the bottom of the barrel and held the gun against my side as I raced to the stairwell. There were only twelve stories, so it didn’t take long for me to get down the stairs and out into the parking lot.
Now I had a problem. I didn’t have a vehicle with me. The quickest way to get to Rinaldo was likely by boat—there were several right there at the dock next to the condos. However, it made me about as easy a target as I could be. There was no way I could wait for a bus at this point, so my options became limited.
I looked around until I saw an older model pickup truck and ran over to it just as I heard another shot from across the river. Less than a moment later, I felt a hot, searing streak across the back of my shoulder.
I dove down behind the truck on the side away from the river and tried to ignore the pain in my back. It hurt like a bitch, but I didn’t think it had done much more than graze my skin. Reaching up, I grasped the door handle, but the truck was locked.
The butt end of the Barrett made quick work of the truck’s window, and I reached in to unlock it. Once inside, I huddled underneath the steering wheel and yanked open the panel. Three pairs of wires dangled below me, and I hoped the older truck had wires with conventional coloring. I started with a pair of brown wires, using my fingernails to strip the plastic off the ends and was rewarded with dash lights. The red pair of wires was next, and I knew I had the right ones when a little jolt of electricity ran up my arm as I tried to strip them manually.
I slid the stripped wires against each other, and the truck’s engine roared loudly in the otherwise quiet night.
I only had a couple of blocks to travel to get across the river and over to the rail yard, but it took me well out of the sniper’s view as I went around buildings and across the river. I ditched the truck on the street just above the tracks, taking a minute to remove the bipod and silencer from my Barrett to drop the weight a bit. It wasn’t really meant to be shot without the stabilization, but I had done it before. Carrying the heavy weapon in both hands, I made my way around the fence and through some trees. I was on the wrong side of the yard—I needed to get to the other side where Rinaldo was without Gavino seeing me.
At least I wasn’t being shot at anymore.
Racing over to the substation, I moved quickly and quietly down the length of it. Any sounds would be masked by the hum of the power grid, but I was still cautious. There had to be at least one other sniper in position, and I had no idea where he was.
On the other side of the substation was the small building where Rinaldo had been. I came around the back of it slowly and saw his car on the other side. He was standing slightly behind it and talking in low tones to two men I didn’t recognize.
Not knowing exactly how he was going to react, I kept a good grip on my rifle, but didn’t quite aim it at him.