Page 1 of Sin & Secrets

1

ROCCO

“We need to deal with this quickly,” I announce to no one in particular.

The unanswered texts from Daniela burn a hole in my pocket, but there’s nothing I can do. I’m likely going to miss her performance again.

“The job always comes first,” Martino mutters next to me. There’s no judgment in his tone; he’s merely stating the truth—a fact we all know to be relentlessly and unforgivingly true.

I made no secret of my priorities when I first engaged her, but now Daniela’s resentment rages through those messages. Unfortunately for her, I can’t bring myself to care.

I massage my forehead as the Mercedes comes to a sudden stop. Glancing over at Martino in the driver's seat, I note how his eyes dart across the scene before us, intent on finding what we came for.

Putting the messages out of my mind, I follow suit. This line of work has no room for distractions.

One moment, there’s nothing there at all, just the eerie quiet of the abandoned dockyard and Martino’s shallow breaths nextto me. The next, a shadow emerges from behind a shipping container.

Alessandro’s eyes pierce through the darkness, the only part of his body not entirely cloaked in stealth gear. He gestures quickly and precisely.

“Shit.”

Martino revs the car to life, not needing me to translate. Our target has company. Two more bikes are heading in from the north.

We take off at breakneck speed. I don’t need to look back to know Alessandro has disappeared into the gloom. I can only hope he makes it to his next location in time.

“Clear at the rendezvous point.” Teo’s voice crackles into my earpiece. His eagle eyes are undoubtedly monitoring every available camera feed across the dock. “No SIL at the west exit.”

I reach behind me, grabbing hold of the silencer for my AR-15. “I need eyes to the north. We have company.”

Martino takes a corner so sharply I can feel the car begin to lift beneath me, but I have total faith in the man driving. His skills behind the wheel have made the difference between life and death on more than one occasion.

Teo curses in my ear. “Coming in hot. You’ll intercept in T-minus twenty.”

“Make that ten,” I instruct Martino, his matching earpiece relaying everything Teo says.

I have to fight against the g-force as Martino hits the gas.

“We only have a small window of opportunity to intercept our target,” I reiterate needlessly. “These bikes are likely some kind of distraction. Let’s deal with them fast.”

Tires screech as we make it around the final corner. Warehouses tower over each side of the road—there’s only one exit, and two motorcycles currently guard it, revving theirengines. Their headlights are bright enough to blind us as we race toward them.

“They’re armed, boss,” Teo warns as I open the window.

“So am I.”

I click the magazine of my assault rifle into place and maneuver out the window. I aim directly at the rider on the right—it would be a shame to shoot out the wheels on such nice Super Dukes. I make a mental note to ask Alessandro if he can salvage them later.

Bullets begin to bounce off the Mercedes’ plated armor as we approach, but my aim is steady, honed over years of drilling and far too much field experience.

Zip.

The bullet shoots clean through the target’s brachial artery in his shoulder. The bike beneath him wobbles, then flips, throwing the rider to the ground with a sickening crunch.

“Should have worn a helmet,” Martino mutters. “Brace!”

It’s all I can do to cling to the top of the car as Martino pulls off a handbrake turn behind the other bike.

The second rider takes off with a lurch when he realizes we are directly on his tail. He shoots at us blindly, focusing on jerking his bike across the road in random zig-zags to throw us off, making my job that much harder.

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