Chapter 4 - The Vipers' Nest
The factory was a rotting carcass of brick and iron.
It stood at the edge of the water,
the waves lapping hungrily at the rusted pilings.
A single light flickered in an upper window,
casting a sickly yellow glow on the rain.
Vincent stepped out of the car,
his long black coat flapping in the wind.
He didn't wear a mask.
He wanted them to see his face.
Tony and Marco were beside him,
each holding a submachine gun with practiced ease.
Ten more men emerged from the shadows,
moving like a pack of wolves.
"Seal the exits,"
Vincent commanded.
"If a single one of them hits the water,
I want him fished out and brought to me."
"Except the woman."
"If any of you hurts the woman,
I’ll kill you myself."
The men nodded and vanished into the darkness.
Vincent walked toward the main doors,
his boots clicking on the wet concrete.
He didn't crouch.
He didn't hide.
He walked with the authority of a man who owned the ground he stood on.
He reached the door,
which was chained from the inside.
"Marco,"
he said.
Marco stepped forward with a breaching charge.
A small click.
A moment of silence.
BOOM.
The doors flew inward,
shattering into splinters of wood and metal.
The sound echoed through the hollow building,
a thunderclap that signaled the end.
Inside,
the air was stale,
smelling of grease and fear.
Men scrambled in the distance,
shouting in confusion.
"Who is that?!"
a voice screamed.
"Who the hell is in here?!"
Vincent walked through the smoke,
his gun held low at his side.
"The man you owe a debt to,"
Vincent said,
his voice carrying through the rafters.
A man with a snake tattoo on his neck stepped into the light.
He was holding a pistol,
his hands shaking.
"Torino?"
he gasped.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"This isn't your territory!"
Vincent stopped ten feet away.
"The whole city is my territory,"
he said coldly.
"And you’ve been doing business in my backyard without an invitation."
"We didn't do nothing to you!"
the man yelled.
"You took a woman,"
Vincent said.
"A mother of a girl named Sophie."
The man’s eyes flickered with a sudden,
deadly realization.
"The kid?"
he laughed,
a nervous,
shrill sound.
"She sent you?"
"What did she give you,
Torino?"
"A lollipop?"
Vincent’s expression didn't change.
"She gave me five dollars,"
he said.
"And that makes her the most important client I’ve ever had."
"Kill him!"
the man shouted,
raising his gun.
He was too slow.
Vincent’s gun barked once,
twice.
The man fell,
clutching his shoulder,
May you like
his weapon skittering across the floor.
The factory erupted into chaos.
