Chapter 5 - The Seventh Key
Don Bellini leveled the heavy barrel at Luca’s forehead.
“End of the line, boy. Your father was weak, and you’re a fool.”
I didn't think.
I remembered my mother’s workshop.
When a brass tumbler seized, you didn't force the turn.
You shocked the housing.
I grabbed a heavy steel monkey wrench from the workbench shelf.
I didn't throw it at Bellini.
I drove the flat end of the wrench with all my strength straight into the iron
casing of the bypass box.
CLANG!
The vibration jarred the rusted pins inside.
I twisted the brass key hard to the right.
The cylinder clicked with a heavy, mechanical snap.
A loud pneumatic hiss echoed through the stone floor.
The heavy iron sluice gates reversed.
The roar of incoming water died into an outgoing drainage vortex.
Bellini’s eyes widened in horror.
He turned his shotgun toward me.
Luca didn't hesitate.
He lunged across the wooden dock, tackling Bellini around the knees.
Both men crashed into the freezing, churning waters of the boat slip.
Under the dark surface, they fought.
Splashes.
Bubbles.
Muffled shouts.
I grabbed Marco’s dropped sidearm from the floorboards.
I leaned over the edge of the dock, pointing the barrel into the dark water.
A figure broke the surface, gasping for air.
Luca.
His hands were wrapped around Bellini’s throat, dragging the old mob boss
against the wooden pylons.
Bellini choked, thrashing uselessly as water filled his lungs.
Luca slammed his head into the pylon until the old man went limp.
Luca hauled himself onto the dock, chest heaving, water cascading from his
soaked tuxedo.
He took the master crowbar from the wall.
He sprinted to the trapdoor in the corner and ripped it open.
Ten feet below, Isabella was coughing up dirty water, clinging to the iron bars
as the pool drained around her knees.
“Bella!” Luca cried out, dropping into the pit.
He severed her rope bindings with two savage cuts.
He lifted his shivering sister into his arms, carrying her up into the light.
Isabella buried her face into his neck, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Luca... they said you traded me... they said you didn't care...”
“Never,” Luca whispered, his voice breaking.
“Never in a thousand lifetimes.”
He looked over his sister’s shoulder at me.
I was standing in the shadows, soaking wet, holding the heavy wrench.
Luca’s eyes softened into an expression of raw, unyielding reverence.
“You saved my family, Emma.”
Headlights swept the driveway outside.
Six black SUVs filled with Moretti soldiers stormed the courtyard.
May you like
The cavalry had arrived.
The battle at the lake was won.
