Chapter 223 Gunshots

Chapter 223 Gunshots
The journey to Marco's hideout lasted a little over two hours, and nobody spoke much during the drive. The excitement from the field had slowly been replaced by something heavier and darker.

It was anticipation.

Inside the first vehicle, Rico sat quietly in the back seat with Ezio beside him. His elbow rested against the door while his eyes remained fixed on the darkness outside.

Streetlights came and went, buildings grew fewer, and soon even the roads began to look abandoned. The closer they got to their destination, the more isolated everything became.

Several black vehicles followed behind them, carrying the rest of their men. The convoy moved through the night like a shadow. Nobody wanted to alert Marco and risk losing him again.

Eventually, Bruno’s voice crackled through the communication device. “We’re close.”

Rico growled deep in his chest in response. The car continued forward for another few minutes before turning onto a narrow road surrounded by thick trees.

The darkness here felt different. Heavier and almost suffocating.

Then the warehouse appeared. It sat alone in the distance like a forgotten giant. The building was enormous, with old concrete walls surrounding it, large metal gates blocking the entrance, and several smaller structures nearby, their windows dark and lifeless.

From the outside, it looked abandoned. But Rico knew better. Marco loved hiding behind appearances.

The convoy came to a stop several hundred meters away. One by one, engines died, and the night became silent again.

Rico stepped out first, cold air hit his face immediately. His boots landed on the dirt road as his eyes locked onto the building. He just stood there and simply stared. Weeks of searching, frustration, dead ends... all of it had led here.

Bruno approached him carrying a pair of binoculars. “Our scouts confirmed movement inside less than an hour ago.”

Rico took the binoculars and looked toward the building. Almost immediately, he spotted armed guards moving around the perimeter—two near the gate, three near a side entrance, and several others patrolling the grounds.

His jaw clenched, fingers tightening against the binoculars. Marco was definitely here. That same realization seemed to spread through the others.

Weapons were quietly loaded, their knives were checked, and men adjusted bulletproof vests.

Costa moved closer to Rico and lowered his voice. “Orders?”

Rico handed the binoculars back to Bruno, his eyes never leaving the warehouse. For a second, he didn't speak, then a slow smile appeared on his face. The same dangerous smile he always wore before violence.

“Take down the guards," he ordered, his gaze hardening. The men immediately straightened. “Leave Marco alive," he said again. He reached behind his back and pulled out his gun. The metal gleamed beneath the moonlight.

His pulse quickened and his blood burned. After weeks of chasing a ghost, he was finally standing at Marco’s doorstep.

And this time… Marco had nowhere left to run.

Ezio quietly gave out the orders to move, and they did. Hundred trained men marched towards the old building. They suddenly split into three groups when they got closer to the building, each group moving in different directions.

The group with Rico followed him behind, guns held up and ready to fire. Their footsteps were as silent as the night.

Rico raised his hand, and every man behind him immediately stopped moving. The warehouse stood ahead of them, quiet and dark beneath the moonlight. Then Rico pointed toward the guards patrolling outside.

The men nodded. Within seconds, they spread out across the area.

The attack began silently. One guard never even saw Ezio coming from behind him. A hand covered the man’s mouth while a knife slit his throat.

The guard dropped without making a sound.

On the other side of the compound, Bruno, Valentina, and several others took down two more guards before they could reach their radios.

Every movement was quick, precise, and clean. Within minutes, the guards outside were eliminated.

Rico moved forward with Ezio at his side. The large warehouse doors were slightly open, and faint light escaped through the gap.

He pushed the door wider and stepped inside. The smell of dust and oil immediately hit him.

The place was enormous. Rows of crates filled the warehouse. Old machines sat abandoned in corners. Metal walkways hung above them.

Rico’s gaze swept through the space, his grip tightened around his gun. Everything looked quiet.

He signaled for the men to check, and immediately, they moved into the area. Every room was searched, every hallway was checked, and every office was forced open.

Rico personally kicked down three different doors. The first room was empty. The second contained nothing except old furniture. The third had signs that people had recently been there—food wrappers, water bottles, fresh cigarette smoke.

But no Marco.

Rico’s frustration slowly began growing.

He barely made it to the next door, when the first gunshot rang out. The sound exploded through the building, causing several heads to turn at once.

For a split second, everything seemed to freeze, then the entire warehouse erupted into chaos.

"INTRUDERS! INTRUDERS!" One of Rico's men alerted the others.

Men suddenly poured out from side rooms and hidden corners as if they had been waiting for this exact moment. Bullets began flying from every direction, striking metal beams and concrete walls. The deafening noise echoed endlessly throughout the massive space.

“DOWN!” Rico shouted. He immediately threw himself behind a stack of crates as a bullet tore through the air where his head had been moments earlier.

“Move! Move!” Ezio shouted somewhere behind Rico.

The next few seconds became a blur. His men returned fire while others pushed deeper into the building. Some used the crates for cover while others stormed through the lower offices searching for Marco.

Rico fired twice at a man rushing toward him before moving again. He wasn’t interested in a prolonged battle. All he wanted was Marco.

Another man suddenly appeared from a side room and swung a metal pipe toward his head.

Rico ducked underneath it, grabbed the man’s wrist, and slammed him face-first into the wall. Before the man could recover, Rico drove his knee into his stomach and knocked him unconscious.

“Boss, this way!” Costa, who somehow reached them, yelled. Rico followed him down another corridor, gunshots still burning loudly behind them.

The fourth and fifth rooms were empty as well. His frustration grew with every door he kicked open. Where the fuck was he?

Gunfire continued erupting throughout the warehouse.

The deeper they moved, the heavier the resistance became. Marco’s men clearly weren’t trying to escape. They were trying to delay them.

That realization made Rico stop, and his eyes narrowed. His jaw tightened.

Delay them, not stop them... delay them.

Rico's eyes darkened and fingers clenched tightly around the gun “He’s running,” he growled.

Almost as if the building itself wanted to confirm his suspicion, another explosion of gunfire erupted from the floor above. Bruno and several others engaged a group of armed men while Rico sprinted toward the staircase.

Halfway up, a man stepped into his path. The man raised a shotgun. Rico didn’t give him the chance to fire as he shot him first.

The body tumbled backward down the stairs, blood streaming from the wound.

Rico kept moving as every second mattered. Every second increased the chances of Marco slipping away again.

When he reached the upper floor, he searched office after office. One contained maps, another contained weapons. The third one looked like somebody had been working there only minutes earlier.

Coffee still sat on the desk, and a cigarette still burned in an ashtray.

Rico stared at it, then his blood ran cold. “He was here," he muttered, angrily kicking the desk.

The words had barely left his mouth when Bruno’s voice suddenly echoed through the communication device. “Boss!” Rico turned immediately. “We found something!”

He sprinted out of the room, his boots pounding against the metal walkway as he rushed toward Bruno’s position.

When he finally arrived, he found several men gathered around a hidden opening in the floor.

It was a tunnel.

Rico simply stared at it. Then his eyes darkened. The bastard had been running all along.