Chapter 3 - The Siege of the Old Bakery
By mid-afternoon, the heavy autumn rain had returned, turning the cobblestone alleys of the harbor district into slick, dangerous mirrors reflecting the gray sky.
Serafina stood by the cracked, rain-streaked window of her apartment, watching three unmarked black luxury sedans turn slowly into the narrow street below. Six men stepped out simultaneously, pulling black umbrellas over their custom suits, their heavy footsteps splashing through the puddles. Silas Rocco led the pack, his massive shoulders hunched against the wind, his hand resting casually inside his jacket near his concealed firearm.
They were outside.
Serafina turned calmly away from the window. She walked over to Clara’s cot. Her little sister was still sleeping soundly, safe under the influence of the mild, non-toxic herbal sedative Serafina had mixed into her tea an hour earlier to ensure she wouldn't wake up during the coming storm.
Serafina kissed Clara’s forehead softly. "Stay asleep, little bird. Big sister is going to finish this."
She grabbed a heavy steel wrench from the kitchen counter, slipped a small encrypted flash drive into the pocket of her faded denim jacket, and calmly unlocked the front apartment door, stepping out into the dim, decaying hallway just as heavy, pounding footsteps echoed up the wooden stairs.
"Break it down!" Silas’s booming voice shook the plaster walls.
Crash!
The flimsy wooden door of apartment 4B splintered inward under a brutal kick, flying off its hinges and slamming against the interior wall. Silas and four armed enforcers swarmed into the small room with weapons raised, scanning every corner for a target.
Silas lowered his gun, his face twisting into a cruel, ugly grin as he spotted Serafina standing quietly in the narrow hallway near the kitchen, holding a wrench like a baseball bat.
"Well, well, well," Silas laughed darkly, stepping over the broken splinters of wood. "Look what the tide washed in. You’ve got a lot of nerve running out on Mr. Moretti, little girl."
"I didn't run," Serafina replied calmly, her voice entirely devoid of fear. "I just moved to a location with better Wi-Fi."
Silas’s smile vanished. He signaled two of his men forward. "Grab her. Tie her hands. The boss wants to interrogate her personally before we dump her in the harbor."
The two enforcers lunged forward, reaching out to grab her arms.
Serafina didn't flinch. Instead, she dropped the wrench, raised her hands submissively, and whispered one single word into the open air.
"Now."
Click-whir.
Suddenly, every single light bulb in the tenement hallway blew out with a sharp electrical pop, plunging the building into pitch darkness. At the exact same second, a high-frequency digital jamming pulse emitted from a pocket router hidden in the wall behind Serafina, instantly scrambling the tactical comms earpieces in the enforcers' ears with a deafening screech of static.
"What the hell?!" Silas roared, clawing at his ear. "Backup power! Night vision!"
Before his men could adapt to the sudden darkness, the emergency smart-lock on the building’s exterior security door slammed shut with a heavy metallic thud, automatically locking all exits from the outside.
Serafina slipped like a ghost through the swirling shadows. Before the enforcers could turn their flashlights on, she hooked her foot behind the leading man’s ankle, sending him crashing hard against the sharp edge of the coffee table. As the second enforcer spun around, she vaulted off the arm of the sofa, bringing her elbow down hard across his neck, sending him sprawling to the floor unconscious.
Silas cursed loudly, sweeping his tactical flashlight through the dark room. "Show yourself, you little rat!"
"I'm right here, Silas," her voice echoed from the dark corner near the kitchen.
Silas whirled around, firing a warning shot into the ceiling plaster, but as the muzzle flash illuminated the room, he realized too late that she wasn't hiding—she was standing right beside the main circuit breaker box.
With a swift, practiced motion, Serafina pulled a heavy master override key—stolen from the building superintendent months ago—and yanked down the main industrial breaker lever.
The entire block’s power grid short-circuited in a shower of brilliant blue sparks.
The heavy iron fire-escape window beside Silas suddenly blew outward as a tactical flash-bang grenade rolled in from the alley outside, tossed by an unseen ally.
BOOM!
The concussive blast rattled Silas’s teeth, blinding him with a blinding wall of white light and deafening his ears. He dropped to his knees, gasping for air, clutching his head.
When the smoke finally cleared a few seconds later, Silas blinked frantically, shaking the ringing out of his ears. He looked around the wrecked apartment.
The enforcers were unconscious on the floor.
Serafina was completely gone.
And resting squarely in the center of the kitchen table, illuminated by the flickering red glow of a burning candle, was a single, sleek black flash drive with a handwritten sticky note attached to it.
May you like
Silas crawled over, picked up the note with a trembling hand, and read the bold black letters:
“Tell Alessandro his crown is ready for pickup. Venue: The Grand Opera House. Midnight.”
