Chapter 8 - THE RECKONING IN THE DARK
Shouts of confusion erupted from Croft's guards as the darkness enveloped them. But Dante Marchetti didn't hesitate. A man who grew up in the shadows of the Chicago underground didn't need light to know how to neutralize a threat.
Bang.
A silenced gunshot echoed through the cavernous room, followed by the heavy thud of a body hitting the concrete floor. Sofia ducked behind Silvio's desk, her heart pounding against her ribs as the sound of close-quarters combat filled the air—the muffled grunts, the shattering of glass, the heavy thuds of fists connecting with bone.
Within thirty seconds, the scuffle was over.
"Turn the emergency generator on, Silvio," Dante's voice cut through the darkness, cold and steady.
A second later, the flickering overhead yellow emergency lights sputtered to life. Dr. Croft was on his knees against the wall, one of Dante's guards holding a knee firmly pressed into his spine while a pistol pressed against the base of his skull. Croft's nose was bleeding, his pristine suit ruined.
Dante walked over, standing above the doctor like an avenging angel. He reached down, grabbed Croft by the lapels of his jacket, and hauled him up effortlessly to eye level.
"Where is my son?" Dante asked, his voice shaking with a fury so intense it made the air feel electrified.
Croft laughed, coughing up a small spot of blood onto his lip. "You... you can kill me, Marchetti. But you'll never find him. The buyer’s private jet took off for Zurich an hour ago. The paperwork is already finalized. He's gone."
Sofia, stepping out from behind the desk, suddenly noticed a glowing smartphone that had dropped from Croft's pocket during the scuffle. The screen was still unlocked, displaying an active GPS tracking interface showing a private aviation hangar at O'Hare International Airport—and a flight status marked Boarding in Progress.
"He's lying," Sofia said, holding up the phone so Dante could see the screen. "The private hangar is still active. The flight hasn't departed yet."
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Dante looked down at the phone, then back at Croft. A dark, predatory smile touched the corners of Dante's mouth.
"You always were a terrible liar, Doctor," Dante said softly. He signaled his men. "Cuffs on him. We're going to the airport."
