Anatoly’s Wrath
The flames shot high into the night, streaking the Trento skyline with blips of orange and black. The Romano strike had been brutal, waves and waves of flaming devastation rolled through, scattering charred blocks and incinerated bodies. The warehouse Anatoly’s main shipment facility was destroyed.
Anatoly stood in front of the wreckage, jaw clenched, eyes pinned to the devastation. His long coat fluttered in the night wind as he surveyed his men, twisted and dead under fallen beams of steel. This was not only a business loss. It was a declaration of war.
Beside him, his second-in-command, Sergei, shifted in his seat. “We lost everything, boss. The weapons, the money, the resupply” Anatoly held up a hand, silencing him. His grip was iron, his patience paper-thin.
“I kno
