Chapter 7 - A Scent of Heather and Salt Air
Julian reached into his breast pocket and produced the micro-engraved titanium cylinder from the brass compass.
He dropped it onto the mahogany table directly in front of Don Carmine Falcone—the oldest and most revered capo of the Atlantic Commission.
“Read line four, Don Carmine,” Julian commanded quietly.
Falcone adjusted his wire-rimmed reading glasses, his liver-spotted hands scanning the digitized legal printout displayed on the table's central terminal.
His weathered face hardened into ancient, merciless stone.
“Charles Montgomery,” Falcone rasped, his voice vibrating with absolute disgust. “You paid two hundred thousand dollars to sever the fuel lines of Donna Maria Vance’s yacht in 1998. You murdered a sovereign mother and tried to assassinate an infant in her cradle to seize the deep-water shipping corridors.”
The forty-two syndicate commanders in the room rose to their feet in unison, their chairs scraping back, their hands diving beneath their bespoke jackets.
In the underworld of the Atlantic coast, territory was traded with contracts. Harbor berths were fought with lead.
That was the life.
That was the code.
But murdering an allied Don’s wife and infant daughter in a targeted maritime explosion to steal an inheritance—that was an unforgivable, cowardly treason that carried an immediate, permanent death sentence under the council charter.
Charles Montgomery fell to his knees on the parquet floor, weeping in blind, broken terror.
“Falcone! Listen to me! Arthur Vance was going to nationalize the deep-water terminals! He was going to hand the berths over to the federal authorities! I protected the commercial viability of this harbor!”
“You murdered our sovereign’s mother for Swiss bearer bonds, Charles,” Falcone replied with chilling finality.
He turned toward Julian.
“Don Julian. The Commission recognizes the blood debt. The house of Montgomery is stripped of all charters, all territories, and all protection.”
Julian nodded once.
He looked at Assistant United States Attorney Marcus Vance standing by the arched entryway.
“Deliver Charles Montgomery, Victoria Montgomery, and their private contractors to the federal detention center in South Boston. Every container vessel, every drydock lease, and every offshore account bearing the Montgomery name is seized under the authority of the Vance-Murphy Maritime Trust.”
May you like
Victoria shrieked, clawing at the floorboards, her cries echoing down the long gallery until the heavy oak doors slammed shut, cutting off her voice forever.
---
