Hunting in the Dark

Back at La Piazza, the evening continued in its usual rhythm, the clinking of cutlery and soft murmur of conversation filling the elegant space. The waitstaff moved gracefully between tables, refilling glasses and delivering dishes with practiced ease. The diners, lost in their meals and conversations, had no idea that a murder had just taken place mere feet away.

At the table where Leon had been seated, his bodyguards waited impatiently. They glanced at their watches, noting that he had been gone longer than usual. They exchanged uneasy looks but remained seated, maintaining a façade of calm. However, the minutes stretched on, and their unease grew. Finally, one of them, a burly man with a scar running down his cheek, stood up.

"I'm going to check on him," he muttered to his partner, who nodded in agreement.

As the bodyguard made his way towards the restroom, a young woman in a red dress approached the bathroom hallway. She had been heading to the ladies' room but stopped short when she saw the body sprawled on the floor. Her scream pierced the air, shattering the tranquility of the restaurant.

The bodyguard broke into a run, his hand already reaching for the gun concealed under his jacket. He rounded the corner and saw the source of the scream: Leon's lifeless body, a pool of blood spreading slowly beneath his head. The woman in red stood frozen in shock, her hands covering her mouth.

"Call the police!" the bodyguard barked at her, his voice a mix of anger and panic. He knelt beside Leon, checking for any sign of life even though he knew it was futile. The hole in Leon's temple told him everything he needed to know.

By now, the other bodyguard had joined him, and a small crowd had begun to gather, their faces pale with horror and curiosity. The restaurant staff moved quickly to usher the diners back to their tables, trying to maintain some semblance of order amidst the chaos.

"He's dead," the first bodyguard said grimly, looking up at his partner. "We've got to alert the bosses."

The second bodyguard nodded, pulling out his phone. He dialed a number and waited for the call to connect, his eyes darting around the room, scanning for any sign of the killer. "This is Marco. We have a situation. Leon's been hit. We're at La Piazza. Get word to the bosses."

As the news spread, the atmosphere in the restaurant shifted from one of shock to one of fear. The patrons whispered among themselves, eyes wide with disbelief. The waitstaff continued to circulate, their movements now tense and hurried. The young woman in red was led away, her sobs audible even from a distance.

Back at the house, I had just settled into bed when my phone buzzed. I picked it up, seeing a message from Alex. "Get ready. There's been a commotion at La Piazza. They know Leon's dead."

I read the message twice, the reality of what I had done settling over me like a heavy blanket. There was no turning back now. I had set a chain of events into motion that couldn't be undone. The mob would be on high alert, and my task had just become exponentially more dangerous.

I got out of bed, pulling on a shirt and heading downstairs. Alex was waiting for me in the living room, his expression grim but resolute. He motioned for me to sit, and I did, the weight of the night pressing down on me.

"The bodyguards found Leon's body. The news is already spreading through the ranks," Alex said, his tone matter-of-fact. "This means they'll be more cautious. They'll expect more attacks."

I nodded, absorbing the information. "What's our next move?"

Alex handed me a folder, thicker than the last one. "We need to move quickly. The next target is Bruno Ricci, Leon's right-hand man. He's been keeping a low profile, but we have intel that he'll be at a warehouse in the industrial district tomorrow night. He's overseeing a shipment of weapons."

I opened the folder, scanning the details. Bruno was a large man, known for his brutality and loyalty to Leon. He was also paranoid, surrounding himself with a small army of bodyguards and rarely staying in one place for long.

"We need to strike while they're still reeling from Leon's death," Alex continued. "Bruno will be expecting retaliation, but he won't expect us to move this quickly."

I nodded, my mind already planning. "What's the plan?"

Alex leaned back, his eyes thoughtful. "The warehouse will be heavily guarded. You'll need to find a way in, take out Bruno, and get out before they know what hit them. Use the chaos to your advantage. They're on edge, which means they'll be more likely to make mistakes."

I closed the folder, my resolve hardening. "I'll be ready."

The rest of the night was spent in preparation. Alex drilled me on the layout of the warehouse, the likely positions of the guards, and the best escape routes. We went over the plan again and again until it was etched into my mind.

The next evening, as the sun set and the shadows lengthened, I found myself outside the industrial district. The warehouse loomed ahead, a hulking structure of concrete and steel. The area was deserted, save for a few stray cats and the occasional rat scurrying through the alleys.

I moved quickly and silently, keeping to the shadows. The entrance was guarded by two men, both armed and alert. I waited, watching their patterns, their movements. When the moment was right, I struck, taking them down with swift, precise blows. They crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

Inside, the warehouse was a maze of crates and machinery. I moved through it like a ghost, my senses heightened, every sound amplified. I could hear voices ahead, rough and impatient. I edged closer, peering around a stack of crates.

Bruno was there, overseeing the unloading of a shipment. He was barking orders, his face twisted in a permanent scowl. His bodyguards were spread out, their eyes scanning the area for any sign of trouble.

I waited, my heart pounding. Timing was everything. I needed to get close enough to take out Bruno without alerting the rest of his men. I crept forward, using the crates for cover. The seconds stretched into minutes, each one a lifetime.

Finally, I was close enough. Bruno turned, his back to me, and I moved. I leaped out, my gun aimed and ready. The shot was clean, precise. Bruno fell, his body hitting the ground with a heavy thud.

Chaos erupted. The bodyguards reacted, guns drawn, shouting orders. I didn't wait. I turned and ran, weaving through the crates, my footsteps silent on the concrete floor. Bullets whizzed past, shattering wood and ricocheting off metal. I kept moving, my path clear in my mind.

I burst through a side door, the cool night air hitting my face. I didn't stop, didn't look back. I sprinted down the alley, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The warehouse was behind me, but I could still hear the shouts, the gunfire.

I made it to the rendezvous point, my body shaking with adrenaline. Alex was there, his eyes scanning the area. When he saw me, he nodded, a rare smile touching his lips.

"Two down," he said. "Eight more to go."

I nodded, my breath finally slowing. The road ahead was long and dangerous, but I was ready. I had made a promise, and I intended to keep it. For my family, for myself. The fire within me burned brighter than ever, and I would not let it be extinguished.

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