Chapter 17 - The Raid on the Black Diamond
The Black Diamond Club was located beneath an abandoned meatpacking warehouse in the industrial heart of Red Hook, Brooklyn. It was an exclusive, high-stakes illegal casino frequented by high-level mobsters, corrupt politicians, and high-priced mercenaries.
At 3:30 AM, heavy rain was pouring down as my armored convoy pulled into the dark alley behind the club.
I stepped out of the Escalade wearing full body armor beneath my rain jacket, holding a silenced submachine gun. Tony, Frankie (his arm in a sling), and twelve of our best soldiers stepped out behind me. Bruno trotted at my side, his body low to the ground, fully locked into combat mode.
"Frankie, cover the back alley and shoot anyone who tries to flee," I commanded. "Tony, you and the breach team take the front doors. Bruno and I take the basement fire exit."
"Got it, Boss," Tony nodded, checking his tactical visor.
I moved silently down the concrete stairs leading to the basement fire exit. The heavy steel door was locked from the inside, but Bruno placed his paw against the lower frame and let out a sharp whine, indicating two armed guards were standing right behind it.
I pulled a mini thermal explosive charge from my tactical vest, slapped it onto the heavy steel hinges, and backed up three steps.
*BOOM!*
The door frame blew inward in a cloud of sparks and smoke.
I kicked the shattered door open and charged into the room, Bruno leaping past me like a dark shadow.
Before the two guards inside could raise their shotguns, Bruno tackled the first guard to the floor, disarming him instantly. I executed the second guard with a double-tap from my suppressed weapon.
We swept into the main casino hall.
The room erupted into total chaos. Dozens of heavily armed mercenaries and mobsters scrambled for their weapons, throwing over poker tables and scattering stacks of hundred-dollar bills across the floor.
"Drop your weapons!" Tony shouted as his breach team flooded through the front entrance, laying down suppressive fire.
Gunfire echoed wildly off the subterranean concrete walls. Bullets splintered wooden tables and shattered expensive liquor bottles behind the bar.
I moved fluidly through the room, taking down three mercenary shooters with precise, controlled bursts. Bruno cleared the left flank, neutralizing two snipers who were taking aim from an elevated VIP booth.
In less than three minutes, the entire mercenary force was completely neutralized or pinned to the floor at gunpoint.
In the back office of the club, I found the lead arson coordinator—a notorious bomb-maker from Chicago named Anton "The Torch" Vance. He was frantically attempting to shred documents and smash computer hard drives.
I kicked his office door off its hinges, walked in, and grabbed him by his collar, slamming his back against the wall.
"Anton," I said coldly. "You burned my rec center."
"Gabriel! Please!" Anton screamed, trembling as Bruno entered the office, his blood-stained snout inches from Anton’s knees. "I was just taking a contract! It was business! Salvatore paid me five hundred grand!"
"Where are the rest of the incendiary charges stored?" I demanded, tightening my grip on his throat.
"In a delivery truck parked near the Queensboro Bridge!" Anton blurted out, crying hysterically. "They’re set to blow up the main power substation in Astoria at 5:00 AM! If that goes off, half of Queens loses electricity for a month!"
I checked my watch. It was 4:15 AM. We had forty-five minutes.
May you like
I slammed Anton into Tony’s waiting arms. "Hand him over to the Brooklyn precinct with the bomb blueprints. Tony, get the bomb squad on the line. We’re heading to the Astoria substation right now!"
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