~NICO~
Adriano didn’t sit.
He stood in front of my desk, jacket off, shirt sleeve stained with dried blood. He looked like he had come straight from the road.
Enzo was by the window, arms folded.
“The shipment arrived,” Adriano said. “But we were hit three times.”
“How many did we lose?” I asked.
“Five.”
I held his gaze. “Details.”
“The first attack was outside Genoa. Two vehicles boxed us in. Poor coordination. They didn’t expect counterfire that fast.”
“Who led it?”
“Unknown. Faces covered. The weapons were Serbian make.”
I nodded once. “The second?”
“Highway near Parma. A sniper took out the lead driver. It was done by a professional. We switched formation and pushed through.”
“Third?”
“A fake checkpoint north of Piacenza. They looked legitimate.” He took a breath. “They w
