Chapter 4 - The Tunnels
Gabriel pushed Mia and the baby behind a massive steel utility box bolted to the subway platform.
The splashing footsteps grew louder as three mercenaries swept their tactical flashlights across the damp, graffiti-covered walls.
“Keep Leo as quiet as you possibly can,” Gabriel whispered, his voice barely a breath against her ear.
Mia nodded frantically, burying her face against the baby’s head to muffle his soft, terrified whimpers.
Gabriel reached down and slowly pulled a heavy combat knife from the sheath strapped to his ankle.
He knew he could not risk a loud shootout in the echoing tunnels without drawing every killer in the city directly to their position.
He melted seamlessly into the deep shadows, leaving Mia trembling entirely alone behind the steel box.
The first mercenary walked past the utility box, his flashlight beam missing Mia by mere inches.
Gabriel lunged silently from the darkness, wrapping his massive arm around the man’s throat and dragging him backward.
The mercenary died without making a single sound, his body lowered gently to the wet concrete.
Gabriel moved with terrifying, predatory grace toward the second and third men.
He dispatched them with a brutal, silent efficiency that made Mia’s blood run completely cold.
She realized she was watching the most feared man in Chicago actively earn his dark, terrifying reputation.
Gabriel returned to her side, wiping the bloody blade on his dark trousers before securing it back in its sheath.
“The path is clear,” he said softly, his chest heaving slightly from the violent exertion.
They walked for another twenty minutes through the maze of abandoned maintenance tunnels.
They finally reached a heavy iron door marked with a faded, rusted city transit logo.
Gabriel punched a six-digit code into a hidden keypad beside the door frame.
The heavy door clicked open, revealing a brilliantly lit, pristine medical facility hidden entirely beneath the city streets.
A man in a white coat rushed forward, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of the bloody mafia boss.
“Treat her injuries first,” Gabriel ordered the underground syndicate doctor, gesturing to Mia’s bruised shoulder and scraped hands.
The doctor gently led Mia to a sterile examination table, carefully cutting away the torn fabric of her ruined blouse.
Gabriel stood rigidly by the door, refusing to look away from her even for a single second.
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As the doctor cleaned the deep purple bruise on her shoulder, Gabriel noticed a faded, complex tattoo inked on her collarbone.
It was a skeleton key crossed with a lockpick, the unmistakable symbol of the city's most notorious, retired safe-cracker.
