Chapter 5 - An Ambush in the Dark
The Maybach was three blocks away from the suspension bridge when the first bullet struck.
It wasn't a standard drive-by spray. It was a high-caliber armor-piercing round from an anti-materiel sniper rifle perched on the adjacent elevated railway. The heavy bullet slammed into the reinforced front tire with the force of a wrecking ball. The heavy luxury sedan shuddered violently, skidding sideways across wet asphalt before slamming against the concrete barrier of the viaduct.
Sirens wailed in the distance. The streetlights overhead suddenly blew out in a shower of sparks—an engineered blackout.
"Down!" Lazero roared, lunging across the leather seats to throw his broad frame over Callie, shielding her body with his own.
He drew his custom semi-automatic pistol from his shoulder holster, kicking open the dented car door to assess the threat. Outside, heavy automatic fire shredded the night air. Two black SUVs skidded to a halt ahead, and men in tactical gear poured into the street, weapons raised.
"Viktor’s hit!" Lazero grunted, seeing his driver slump over the steering wheel, blood pooling against the shattered dashboard. "Callie, stay low. Crawl behind the rear axle!"
He thought he was protecting a frightened secretary.
He was wrong.
Callie didn't crawl. She reached beneath the hem of her emerald gown, withdrew the ceramic knife, and severed the tactical holster beneath the front passenger seat in one fluid slash. She pulled out Viktor’s backup weapon—a modified short-barrel assault rifle—racked the bolt with an expert metallic snap, and kicked open her side of the door.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Lazero barked, grabbing for her wrist.
Callie spun out of his reach like liquid smoke. "Covering your blind spot!"
She stepped into the gunfire without a tremor of fear. Leaning over the trunk of the smoking Maybach, she aligned her sights in the pitch-dark. Three controlled, rhythmic bursts echoed over the bridge.
Pop-pop. Pop-pop. Pop-pop.
Three muzzle flashes from the approaching assault team instantly went dead. The men dropped to the wet pavement before they even knew where the return fire was coming from.
Callie advanced with lethal, rhythmic steps. Her stiletto heels clicked against the wet road; her emerald silk dress billowed in the wind like a battle banner. She moved with the terrifying muscle memory of a world-class assassin, picking off flanking shooters with cold, surgical headshots.
Lazero watched in stunned disbelief as he laid down suppressive fire alongside her. He was fighting a war on the asphalt, but this woman was conducting an execution.
A shadow broke from the elevated rail above, dropping onto the roof of the SUV with a combat blade drawn. The assassin lunged directly at Lazero’s throat while his gun was emptied.
Before Lazero could reload, Callie closed the distance. She abandoned her rifle, drew her ceramic dagger, and intercepted the attacker mid-air. With a brutal pivot of her hips and a sickening crunch of bone, she drove the ceramic blade through the attacker’s collarbone, pinning him violently against the hood of the car.
The assassin gasped, blood bubbling at his lips.
Callie leaned down, her face inches from his dying eyes. Her voice dropped to a sinister, ancient whisper.
"Tell whoever sent you that the Black Orchid still blooms."
The assassin’s eyes dilated in sheer, unadulterated terror at the phrase before his head slumped sideways.
Lazero stood in the rain of broken glass and empty shell casings, his chest heaving, his gun lowered. He stared at his "ugly secretary" who now stood over five corpses in a ruined emerald gown, her honey-brown hair soaked in rain, holding a bloody knife with the elegance of a queen.
"The Black Orchid," Lazero whispered, the legendary name sending an unfamiliar shock of ice through his veins. "The royal assassin of the Moretti bloodline."
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Callie slowly wiped the blade against the dead man’s jacket. She looked up at Lazero, her amber eyes blazing in the flashing red lights of distant police cruisers.
"My real name is Callista Moretti," she said. "And the man who paid for this hit tonight isn't Venturo Holmes. It's your second-in-command... your brother, Dominic Stone."
