Chapter 71The screech of tortured metal was the last warning we had before the doors to the central hub were blown inward. Smoke, thick and smelling of cordite, billowed into the corridor, lit by the rhythmic, hellish strobe of the red emergency lights.Through the haze, he appeared. Antonio Rossi.He looked like a man who had crawled through the pits of Gehenna to reach this mountain. His suit was torn, his face mapped with fresh scars, but his eyes, those dark, calculating pits of Florentine cruelty were as sharp as the day I’d first met him. He stepped over the debris, his golden Desert Eagle held with a casual, terrifying familiarity. Behind him, a phalanx of men in tactical gear fanned out, their rifles sweeping the room."Valencia," Antonio rasped. The sound of my name in his throat felt like a noose tightening."Stay back!" Akeem’s voice cracked. He stepped out from the observation deck, his own weapon shaking in his hand. "Antonio, we had an understanding! I delivered the Bl
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