Chapter 2 - Three Miles of Hope
Sarah slapped the steering wheel.
“No. No, no, no.”
The armed men continued toward us beneath the tunnel lights.
I pulled back the Beretta’s slide. It moved halfway and locked.
“Your gun doesn’t work?” Sarah whispered.
“It has been a disappointing evening.”
One of the men raised his weapon.
Sarah grabbed my coat.
“Get down!”
She shoved me toward the center console and threw the gearshift into neutral.
“What are you doing?”
“The road slopes.”
The Honda began rolling backward.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
Gunfire erupted.
The windshield cracked. A bullet shattered the side mirror.
Sarah twisted the wheel, guiding the dead car backward between two concrete pillars. The men jumped aside as the Honda rolled toward the lower ramp.
“Can you restart it?” I asked.
“I’m trying.”
The engine clicked uselessly.
We gathered speed.
The rear bumper struck the tunnel wall, sending sparks across the pavement, but Sarah kept the car moving.
“Hold on.”
“To what?”
She pulled the handbrake.
The Honda spun in a violent half-circle and landed facing downhill.
Before the men could recover, Sarah released the brake.
The car rolled away from them.
I looked at her.
“You’ve done that before.”
“My brother taught me in a grocery store parking lot.”
“Your family sounds concerning.”
“You should meet yours.”
The engine coughed suddenly.
Sarah turned the key again.
It roared to life.
She hit the accelerator, and we shot deeper into the tunnel.
For half a mile, neither of us spoke.
Then Sarah looked at the blood pooling beneath my hand.
“You need stitches.”
“I need a telephone.”
“You need both.”
“I can only trust one doctor.”
“Call him.”
“My phone was destroyed.”
She handed me hers.
The screen was cracked, and only twenty-three percent battery remained.
I dialed a number from memory.
A man answered on the second ring.
“Who is this?”
“Gabriel.”
Silence.
Then Dr. Gabriel Russo said, “Dante?”
“I need you.”
“That’s obvious. Half the city believes you’re dead.”
“Not yet.”
“Where are you?”
I looked at Sarah.
“Near the river.”
“That narrows it down to an entire city.”
“The old train warehouse on Kinzie.”
Gabriel swore.
“That place has been abandoned for years.”
“That’s why we bought it.”
“We?”
“The Moretti family.”
Sarah looked at me sharply.
Gabriel continued. “Who is driving?”
“A civilian.”
“I’m not a civilian anymore,” Sarah muttered. “Apparently, I’m an accomplice.”
“I heard that,” Gabriel said.
“She’s a waitress.”
“A waitress rescued Dante Moretti?”
“She made a poor financial decision.”
“Ten thousand dollars,” Sarah said loudly.
Gabriel sighed. “Get him to the warehouse. I’ll bring supplies.”
“Come alone.”
“I’m a surgeon, Dante, not a soldier.”
“Tonight, that makes you more valuable.”
The call ended.
Sarah glanced at the fuel gauge.
The needle was below empty.
“How far?”
“Two miles.”
“We won’t make it.”
“Turn off the heat.”
“It’s freezing.”
“Then imagine summer.”
She switched off the heater.
The windows began to fog almost immediately.
I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and pressed it against the wound.
Sarah noticed my hands shaking.
“Are you afraid?”
“No.”
“You should be.”
“I’m angry.”
“At Luca?”
“At myself.”
“For trusting your brother?”
I turned toward her.
“How do you know it was my brother?”
“You mentioned him in the alley.”
“I said he arranged the meeting.”
“And your bodyguard tried to warn you.”
I stared at her.
“You heard that?”
“You were talking while slipping in and out.”
“What else did I say?”
“Marcus. Luca. Julian.”
My jaw tightened at the name.
Sarah glanced at me.
“Julian is your brother?”
“My younger brother.”
“And you think he betrayed you?”
“I think Marcus died trying to tell me something.”
“That isn’t proof.”
“In my world, men rarely spend their final breath discussing misunderstandings.”
The Honda sputtered again.
Sarah tapped the dashboard.
“Not now.”
The engine lost power.
We coasted onto a narrow service road beside the Chicago River. Ahead, a dark industrial building stood behind a chain-link fence.
“There,” I said.
The car stopped fifty yards from the gate.
Sarah rested her forehead against the wheel.
“We’re out of gas.”
“Congratulations.”
“For what?”
“You made it three miles.”
“The building is still fifty yards away.”
“I have walked farther.”
“You can barely sit upright.”
“I dislike being carried.”
“I wasn’t offering.”
We climbed out into the rain.
The cold struck me immediately.
Sarah came around the car and hooked my arm over her shoulders.
“I said I can walk.”
“And I said you’re bleeding in my car. We’re both experiencing disappointment.”
We moved toward the gate.
Halfway there, my legs buckled.
Sarah tightened her grip.
“Dante.”
“I’m fine.”
“You just tried to kneel in a puddle.”
“I was reconsidering my religion.”
A faint smile touched her mouth, then disappeared as headlights appeared behind us.
Another vehicle entered the service road.
Sarah pulled me behind the burned shell of an old delivery truck.
“Is that your doctor?”
“No.”
“How can you tell?”
“Gabriel drives a blue sedan.”
The approaching vehicle was black.
Doors opened.
Men spread out across the road.
I recognized one of them by his voice.
“Dante!” he called. “Luca wants to speak with you.”
“Luca has never needed this many guns for a conversation.”
The man laughed.
Sarah whispered, “How many bullets are in your gun?”
“None that will fire.”
“That’s comforting.”
I looked toward the warehouse fence.
A security keypad sat beside the gate.
“If we reach the keypad, the gate will open.”
“What’s the code?”
“Marcus’s birthday.”
“You remember it?”
“He saved my life twice.”
“Tonight makes three.”
My throat tightened.
The men moved closer.
Sarah picked up a broken metal pipe from the ground.
“What are you doing?”
“Improvising.”
“You cannot fight six men with a pipe.”
“I’m not fighting them.”
She threw the pipe toward the opposite side of the road.
It struck a pile of sheet metal with a loud crash.
Three men turned toward the sound.
“Run,” she whispered.
We crossed the remaining distance.
A bullet struck the fence beside Sarah’s head.
She flinched but did not release me.
I entered the code.
The gate clicked.
Sarah dragged it open.
We fell through and slammed it behind us just as the men reached it.
“This fence won’t stop them,” she said.
“It isn’t supposed to.”
Red lights flashed along the warehouse roof.
Steel security shutters began descending inside the fence.
The men jumped back as reinforced barriers dropped around the building.
Sarah stared.
“You said abandoned.”
“Appearances are useful.”
We stumbled through a side door.
The warehouse interior was dark except for emergency lights. An old office stood on a raised platform overlooking the empty floor.
Sarah helped me inside and lowered me onto a leather couch.
“Where are the guards?”
“There should be twelve.”
“And there are none.”
“Yes.”
She looked toward the silent warehouse.
“That seems bad.”
“It means whoever betrayed me knew about this place.”
A noise came from the hallway.
Sarah raised the metal pipe.
The door opened.
A tall man in a raincoat stepped inside carrying a medical bag.
“Put that down,” Dr. Gabriel Russo said.
Sarah did not move.
“How do I know who you are?”
Gabriel looked at Dante.
“Your waitress has trust issues.”
“She met me twenty minutes ago. Her judgment is improving.”
Gabriel hurried to the couch and cut open my shirt.
His expression changed.
“The bullet is still inside.”
“Take it out.”
“Here?”
“You brought the bag.”
“I also brought common sense. We need a hospital.”
“No hospitals.”
Gabriel stared at me.
“You’ll die without surgery.”
Sarah folded her arms.
“Then perform surgery.”
Gabriel looked around the dusty office.
“This is not an operating room.”
“No,” Sarah said. “But it’s where he is.”
A pounding sound echoed through the building.
Someone was trying to breach the outer barriers.
Gabriel looked at the door.
“We don’t have much time.”
Sarah met his eyes.
“Then stop wasting it.”
Gabriel opened his medical bag.
“Lock the door.”
Sarah turned the deadbolt.
I looked at her.
“You should leave.”
“How?”
“There’s a tunnel beneath the warehouse.”
“Of course there is.”
“You can take it to the riverwalk.”
She looked at the locked door, then at the blood on her uniform.
“And let them find you unconscious?”
“This is not your war.”
“They shot my car.”
“That does complicate neutrality.”
Sarah moved closer.
“You promised me ten thousand dollars.”
“I did.”
“You can’t pay me if you die.”
For the first time that night, I smiled.
“Practical.”
“Desperate.”
The pounding outside grew louder.
Gabriel prepared a syringe.
“This will hurt.”
“I’ve been shot.”
“I wasn’t speaking to you.”
He handed Sarah a folded towel.
“Make him bite this if he starts shouting.”
Sarah looked at me.
“Does the king of Chicago shout?”
“Only when waitresses charge interest.”
The outer barrier exploded.
Dust fell from the ceiling.
Gabriel lifted the scalpel.
Sarah locked eyes with me.
“Stay awake.”
“Why?”
May you like
“Because I didn’t risk my life to drive a corpse three miles.”
Then the blade touched my skin.
