Chapter 9 - The Siege of Queens
At five o'clock in the morning, the rain finally stopped, leaving a heavy, impenetrable fog hanging over the industrial district of Long Island City, Queens.
The abandoned iron works facility stood like a jagged black monster against the gray morning sky—a sprawling complex of rusted corrugated metal, broken glass windows, and towering smokestacks.
A fleet of six black armored SUVs sat idling two blocks away in the shadow of an elevated subway line.
Inside the lead vehicle, Adrien was checking the action of a tactical rifle, his face set in stone. He wore a heavy Kevlar vest beneath a dark coat, his presence commanding absolute silence from the four men sitting with us.
I sat beside him, wearing a dark tactical jacket he had given me, the silver locket heavy against my chest.
“You stay in the vehicle with Leo,” Adrien instructed, turning to look at me, his eyes softening slightly. “Once we breach the perimeter and clear the main building, Leo will bring you inside.”
“No,” I said firmly, reaching out to touch his arm.
Adrien frowned. “Lena, this is a war zone.”
“Moretti expects to see me,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite the rapid pounding of my heart. “If he doesn't see me walk through those doors, he’ll know it’s an ambush and he’ll blow the building or escape through an underground route. You need me as the distraction.”
Adrien stared at me, his jaw clenching tight as he weighed my words. He hated the idea—I could see it in the tense line of his shoulders—but he knew I was right.
“If anything happens,” Adrien said, pulling a compact, lightweight pistol from his holster and placing it into my hands, “if anyone gets past me, you use this. Aim for center mass.”
I wrapped my fingers around the cold steel handle, nodding once. “I understand.”
Adrien turned to Marco, who was waiting outside the door. “Execute signal Alpha. Cut their power and blind their communications.”
Marco nodded, raising his hand to signal the other vehicles.
Three seconds later, a series of muffled explosions echoed from the power substation across the street. The bright security lights illuminating the iron works flickered once, twice, and then plunged into total darkness.
“Go!” Adrien shouted.
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The heavy doors of the SUVs flew open simultaneously. Twenty heavily armed men dressed in dark tactical gear poured out into the foggy street, moving with lethal, disciplined speed toward the entrance of the iron works.
Adrien took my hand, pulling me along beside him as we crossed the wet asphalt, entering the mouth of the beast.
