Chapter 5 - The Ghost of Manhattan
The service stairs were narrow and steep,
smelling of dust and forgotten history.
I moved with the silence of a shadow,
my senses heightened by the adrenaline coursing through my veins.
We could hear the boots of the guards on the floors above,
their voices muffled but urgent.
"Find them!"
Marco’s voice boomed.
"The Boss doesn't leave the grounds alive!"
I led Hunter through the laundry chutes and into the ventilation shafts,
bypassing the main hallways where the traitors were waiting.
Every time she winced as her uniform caught on a metal edge,
I paused,
waiting for the sound of an alarm that never came.
We reached the fourth floor,
just below the helipad.
The air was thick with the scent of ozone and the distant rumble of the city.
"Wait here,"
I whispered,
pointing to a small storage closet.
I stepped into the hallway,
finding two guards standing by the elevator.
I didn't use my gun;
I couldn't risk the noise.
I moved like a ghost,
using a garrote wire to take the first one down before the second could even turn his head.
The second guard lunged for his radio,
but I was faster,
driving a combat knife into the base of his skull.
They fell without a sound,
their bodies heavy and limp on the carpet.
I signaled for Hunter to follow.
She stepped over the bodies,
her face pale but her eyes steady.
"You're very good at this,"
she whispered,
her voice trembling.
"I had to be,"
I replied,
stripping the guards of their grenades and extra ammunition.
"In my world,
being good at this is the only way to see the next sunrise."
We reached the final ladder to the roof.
The wind was howling through the open hatch,
carrying the cold sting of the rain.
I looked at Hunter,
who was shivering in her thin uniform.
"Once we get to the chopper,
we have to move fast,"
I said.
"The pilots are mine,
they won't be compromised."
"But Halloran will have snipers on the adjacent rooftops."
I took off my overcoat and wrapped it around her and Leo.
"Protect him,"
I said,
my hand lingering on my son’s head for a second.
"Always,"
she promised.
I pushed the hatch open and stepped out into the storm.
The helicopter was there,
its blades already beginning to turn,
cutting through the dark.
But as we ran toward it,
the floodlights of the mansion suddenly roared to life.
"There they are!"
a voice shouted from the balcony below.
Gunfire erupted,
the bullets pinging off the metal skin of the chopper.
I shoved Hunter toward the open door,
firing back with my submachine gun.
"Go!
Go!
Go!"
I roared.
The pilot looked at me,
his eyes wide with panic.
"Boss,
we're taking fire from the north!"
"I know!"
I shouted,
climbing in behind Hunter as the chopper began to lift.
I looked down,
and for a split second,
I saw Halloran standing on the balcony,
his face twisted in a mask of fury.
I raised my middle finger to him as we vanished into the clouds.
May you like
We were out.
But the war for Manhattan was only just beginning.
