Chapter 86 — End Of The Hunt

WARNING! GRAPHIC VIOLENT CONTENT BELOW INTENDED FOR MATURE READERS ONLY!

MAXIMILIANO.

Bullets whizzed across the room. Flashes of light ricocheted around us.

I winced at the earsplitting noises. I dropped to the ground, my heart pounding in my chest. My ears were ringing. My legs felt tired. Weak.

But we had to get out of here alive.

Two of the guards kept groaning in pain on the floor. The other guys kept swearing in Italian. Panic filled their eyes as the shots went on.

Buzzcut Blondie, the youngest guard, wouldn't stop writhing on the ground. His pale arm was bleeding, leaving bright red smudges on the floor.

The others were trying to hide under the table. One of them dashed to the entrance. The coward ran out of the bunker as the deafening noise reverberated within the cramped walls.

The fugitive we'd been hunting down didn't try anything to prevent the whole thing from escalating. The bastard even joined in. During the first round of gunshots, he swiftly jumped over the bed and pulled a handgun from under his belt.

I'd seen him use it one too many times. It was his favorite pistol, and it could be the same weapon that would end my life any second now.

But it wasn't him or the guards who opened fire. It was his mistress.

The bitch hid behind a metal partition, and we all had no idea until the first shot rang out. She'd been hiding in the corner all this time, quietly crouching behind the partition. Fear and surprise widened her eyes, as if the idiot couldn't believe she didn't kill me with her first attempt.

I gripped my loaded gun and sought cover behind the steel shelf, the front of my shirt already damp with my own blood.

Then a bullet grazed my ear.

"Fuck!" The bitch just shot at me again.

"Stay down!" Alessio glanced behind to regard me, the panic in his eyes replaced with anger.

Smoke and dust filled the air. I leaned against the cold steel, cursing up a storm. I had no choice but to sit on this fucking ugly, filthy rug. I was trying to calm my breathing and my restless thoughts, numbing my senses from the violence.

But it wasn't the gunfire that terrified me. It was the thought of not seeing my family again.

Mamma.

Adreana.

Ricchar.

Baby Jules.

Mykaela.

"Signore! Non fare lo stupido. Butti la pistola!" [Sir! Don't be stupid. Just drop the gun!]

"No! Stronzo! Traditore!"

"Cazzo." Alessio's voice snapped me out of my thoughts, almost at the same time he dropped down to his knees beside the shelf. He did it to shield me better.

I was sure his Kevlar protected his torso, but his arm was bleeding. Whose bullet hit him? It could've been friendly fire, though. Or was it Pappa's gun?

The bunker reeked of sweat, desperation, and gunpowder. I tried to reach for Alei's collar, but he lay flat on his chest instead. I was aiming my pistol at the bitch who just tried to kill me twice when his next shots hit her thigh and her kneecap, immobilizing her.

"Cazzo!" Huddled behind the steel bed, Pappa grunted and aimed his gun at Alessio. The first bullet whizzed past Alessio's head.

I stepped away from the wall, steeled myself, then fired back.

The bullet struck its mark.

Pappa toppled to the ground, his fall a quick thud.

My breath hitched as the ringing in my ear intensified. Dread mixed with shock descended to the pit of my stomach. But I didn't drop my gun. I held it close to my thigh.

"No! Stefano!" His bitch shrieked beside the partition, her face contorting as tears wet her flushed cheeks. "Stefano!"

***

The other guards grabbed me and Alessio once they had disarmed the girl, collected the guns, and left her crying her eyes out on the floor.

Three of the guys seemed unharmed as they dragged us to safety. We were back in the tunnel seconds later. I gritted my teeth as I put pressure on the bleeding wound on my shoulder.

"Maxim, you good?" Alessio stood beside me, his clothes somewhat grimy like mine. Blood oozed from the side of his arm where a small bullet had caught him.

"No. You?" I swore under my breath. The pain in my shoulder and left arm felt knife-like while the distinct smell of something burning hung in the air.

"We gotta get out of here now."

Huh? I glanced around, the dim tunnel only partially illuminated by the guys' tiny flashlights. "Why?"

Did he mean we had to leave the estate? Why? Because the police would be here any moment now? The guards had to get Pappa and the girl out of the bunker first.

"What about them?" I coughed out loud, still panting a bit. My lungs felt overworked for some reason.

"Just get up." Alessio walked away from me to give the guards another set of instructions. "Now!"

"What?" I grunted and slowly got up. I wasn't sure if he was yelling at me or the guards. Probably both.

My head was spinning, my vision blurry. My left ear throbbed in pain. The dull ache only reminded me of the close call I had to push through.

Two close calls, actually. The first bullet apparently went through my left shoulder. The second only grazed the side of my ear. I touched the exit wound on my upper back and winced, the sticky warmth of my own blood painting my fingertips red.

Muttering something under his breath, Alessio grabbed my arm, then practically dragged me towards the end of the tunnel.

We waited for the guys. We stood alone outside the entrance. As far as I could tell, this was the only gateway to the secret bunker where my father and his mistress had been hiding all along.

"Hey. We gotta get you patched up." Alessio stared at me and sighed. Dust and something darker clung onto his veiny hands and the side of his face.

"I'm good." I coughed onto my sleeve.

"You're bleeding," he mumbled with a scowl. "The girl shot at you four times."

"Stupid bitch."

Alessio and the guys had witnessed everything, and even Pappa seemed shocked that she was the first one to pull the trigger.

Now I probably needed a dozen stitches and a cosmetic surgeon. What a shitshow...

I bet my mother was still clueless about us being here. About what we just did. Probably just waiting for me to come home. Unless Niccolo told her where I was.

"Come on," Alessio said in a louder voice, a bit hoarse but still firm. His phone was in his right hand. "It's over."

Was it actually over, though?

The guilt and grief hadn't sunk in yet. "I killed him," I murmured, my voice barely audible.

“No.” Alessio sighed, his voice strained. The pain he must be feeling drew faint lines beside his eyes. He’d been working for us for years now and personally witnessed my father's descent into darkness.

But Alei had been a steadfast ally. I wouldn't have dragged him into this chaos if I didn't trust him to keep me alive. And now I owed him my life.

"Hey." Alessio put a comforting hand on my back. "It was self-defense."

Was it? Maybe. But I doubted the cops and any unbiased prosecutor would agree. I feigned a grin through the pain and eyed Alei.

His bulletproof vest still covered up his torso and shoulders. Exhaustion and restrained shock etched lines on his rugged face, mirroring the disbelief and guilt clenching my chest.

Though I tried, I couldn't shake the image of my father's face before I pulled the trigger. One shot to the head. It was all it took.

But it was his fault. He almost killed Alessio in front of me.

It was the rage that boiled within me that made me snap. I was forced to make a choice no son should ever have to make.

I couldn't have saved him from the path he'd chosen. Before all this, I'd tried to talk him out of that deal with Ignazio and Leandro. To make him realize the consequences of his actions. I'd tried to convince him more than a few times.

But of course my opinion didn't matter. I was a nobody in his eyes. Nothing but a liability.

A fucking burden.

***

The bunker had become a blazing inferno in just minutes. Smoke licked the dusk sky, casting a dull shadow across the landscape. The foundations would crumble any second now.

The very ground we stood on seemed to tremble. I could almost feel the flames raging from inside the bunker, the depth of the tunnel concealing an unsettling orange glow.

Maybe the fire was cleansing the sins that had festered within those walls.

The criminal who tried to off me just minutes ago rested on her side, shell-shocked and hugging her bare knees to her chest. Like her greasy blonde locks, her wrinkled hoodie pressed onto the grass.

Two of the guards stood beside her. Just in case she did something stupid again. Dark smoke seeped out of the tunnel and warmed the air.

I would be feeling better if they didn't bother to drag her and Pappa out of the bunker. If it weren't for Alessio, I would've told the guys to leave the bitch trapped down there. Let her bleed to death, suffocate, and scream her lungs out as the flames burned her to a crisp.

But my bodyguard had other plans apparently.

My father lay flat on the ground, lifeless, his clothes wrinkled and dirty. No longer armed or dangerous. His forehead was no longer bleeding.

He didn't look like there was any breath left in him. He was lying on his back, his eyes still open, just staring blankly into the abyss. His once sharp features now looked frozen.

He looked frail. Broken. Too human.

I just killed him. I shot him. I ended his life with one bullet.

If I hadn't done it, by now I'd be digging a six-foot grave for Alei.

Stefano Falco was dead.

Finally.

It didn't mean justice had been served. But it was a start.