Blood On The Ledger

Chapter 17: Collateral

The first scream came from the market. The second came from the clinic. By the third, the whole of Morrows Estate knew something was wrong. Dante was standing in his study when the first call came through. “Boss.” The voice on the other end was breathless. “There’s been an attack.” Dante stood. “Where?” “The market.” His face hardened. “Who?” “We don’t know.” “How many?” Another pause. “Too many.” Dante grabbed his coat. “Get Victor.” The market looked nothing like it had that morning. Tables were overturned. Food lay scattered across the road. A delivery truck had crashed into a stall. People ran in every direction. Some screamed for relatives. Others searched through the smoke. Dante stepped out of his vehicle. His men immediately surrounded him. He ignored them. “Find the injured.” Victor pointed toward the eastern end. “Clinic is overflowing.” Dante looked around. “Where’s Mrs. Ada?” Nobody answered. His heart tightened. “Find her.” Mrs. Ada was on her knees beside the remains of her shop. Her son was nowhere in sight. She was calling his name again and again. “Daniel!” Dante reached her. “Ada.” She looked up. Her face was covered in dust. “My son.” Dante crouched. “Where was he?” “Here.” “Did you see him?” “I sent him to the back of the shop.” Dante looked at the collapsed wooden structure. His men immediately began searching. “Careful,” Dante ordered. “Don’t bring the building down on anyone.” They pulled away broken boards. Then someone shouted. “Child!” Dante turned. A small hand appeared beneath the debris. His men worked faster. Dante joined them. A piece of wood was lifted. The boy was trapped underneath. Alive. Barely conscious. Dante pulled him free himself. Mrs. Ada screamed with relief. “My baby!” Dante handed him over. “Take him to the clinic.” She held her son against her chest. Then she looked at Dante. “Why are they doing this?” Dante had no answer. Because the boy had nothing to do with the war. Neither did the women hiding beneath market stalls. Neither did the children crying in the streets. But someone had decided they were acceptable losses. Dante stood. His face changed. This was no longer a game between two crime lords. Someone had deliberately brought the war into people’s homes. And Dante would not allow it. Across the boundary, Enzo received the same news. Except this time, it was his town. A warehouse near the western market had exploded. Three people were dead. A woman. An elderly man. And a twelve-year-old boy. Enzo arrived before the fire was completely under control. He stood across the street, staring. Luca approached. “Six injured.” “Names?” “We’re still identifying them.” Enzo looked at the burned building. “Who was the target?” Luca hesitated. “That’s the problem.” “What?” “There wasn’t one.” Enzo turned toward him. “It was a market warehouse.” “So?” “So there was nothing important inside.” Enzo’s eyes narrowed. “No drugs?” “No.” “Weapons?” “No.” “Money?” “Nothing.” Enzo stared at the flames. “Then why blow it up?” Luca didn’t answer. Enzo’s expression hardened. “They weren’t after the warehouse.” He looked at the civilians gathered across the street. “They were after the people.” By evening, the death toll had risen. Seven civilians. Four injured Morrows men. Three injured Marinos men. And one question nobody could answer. Why? Dante sat in the clinic hallway. He had blood on his sleeve. Not his. A nurse walked past carrying a tray of medical supplies. He stopped her. “How many?” She looked exhausted. “Eight still being treated.” “Children?” “Three.” Dante’s jaw tightened. “Are they alive?” “Yes.” He nodded. “Make sure they get whatever they need.” The nurse hesitated. “Who pays?” Dante looked at her. “I do.” She nodded and walked away. Victor sat beside him. “We found the vehicle.” Dante turned. “Whose?” “Neither side.” “Again?” “Again.” Victor handed him a photograph. A burned van. The same kind of vehicle seen near the southern road. Dante stared at it. “Driver?” “Dead.” “Identity?” “Fake.” Dante looked toward the clinic doors. “So they sacrificed another man.” Victor nodded. “Seems that way.” Dante stood. “They’re cleaning up after themselves.” Enzo was receiving a similar report. “The vehicle was registered under a dead man.” Luca placed the file on the table. “Who?” “Jonas Reed.” Enzo froze. “Jonas?” Luca nodded. “The same man whose body was found at the boundary.” Enzo opened the file. The vehicle registration had been transferred three weeks earlier. Before Jonas died. His name had been used. His identity had been used. And now his vehicle had been used to attack civilians. Enzo slowly closed the file. “Someone is using dead men.” Luca nodded. “To hide behind.” Enzo stood. “Find everyone connected to Jonas.” “We are.” “His family too.” “They’re protected.” “Keep them protected.” Luca nodded. Enzo looked toward the window. The boundary was somewhere beyond the buildings. A line that had once kept two territories apart. Now it was spreading death through both. That night, Dante and Enzo met again. This time, neither stood at the fence. They met at an abandoned checkpoint halfway between the towns. The place had been unused for years. A broken sign hung above the entrance. NO ENTRY. It almost seemed like a joke. Dante arrived first. Enzo arrived five minutes later. Their men stayed outside. Neither man brought more than three people. Enzo stepped inside. “They attacked civilians.” Dante nodded. “Yes.” “Your town.” “Yours too.” Enzo stared at him. “The same night.” “Same method.” “Same vehicle.” Dante looked at him. “Jonas’s.” Enzo’s expression hardened. “Exactly.” They stood in silence. The truth was becoming impossible to ignore. The person behind the attacks wasn’t trying to create hatred anymore. They were creating grief. And grief was more dangerous than anger. Anger could be controlled. Grief could not. Enzo walked toward the broken window. “My people are asking me what I’m going to do.” “What will you tell them?” Enzo looked back. “That we’re finding whoever did this.” Dante nodded. “My people want blood.” “So do mine.” “Will you give it to them?” Enzo stared at him. “No.” Dante’s eyes remained fixed on him. “Good.” Enzo frowned. “You sound surprised.” “I’m not.” “Then why ask?” Dante looked toward the dark streets. “Because sooner or later, one of us will have to tell our men no.” Enzo understood. That was the dangerous part. Their men didn’t see the whole picture. They saw dead friends. Burned buildings. Blood. Families crying. They wanted someone to blame. And the easiest target was the man across the fence. A scream suddenly came from outside. Both men turned. A Marinos guard rushed through the door. “Boss!” Enzo stepped forward. “What?” “Someone attacked the Morrows clinic.” Dante’s face changed. “What?” “Gunfire. They’re gone.” Enzo looked at Dante. Dante was already moving. They ran outside together. The clinic was chaos. Windows were shattered. People screamed. A nurse lay injured near the entrance. Dante rushed to her. “Who did this?” She was shaking. “I don’t know.” “How many?” “Two… maybe three.” Enzo looked around. “Patients?” A doctor answered. “One child is missing.” Everything stopped. Dante looked at him. “What child?” “Mia Bell.” Enzo’s expression changed. “No.” They ran toward the rear entrance. There were footprints in the dirt. Small ones. And beside them— larger ones. Dante crouched. He touched the ground. Fresh. Enzo stood beside him. “She’s been taken.” Dante looked toward the darkness. “They knew she’d be here.” Enzo’s fists tightened. Mia had already survived one attempt to use her as bait. Now someone had come back for her. This wasn’t collateral anymore. This was personal. Enzo looked at Dante. “Where would they take her?” Dante stood. “Somewhere we won’t expect.” Enzo shook his head. “No.” Dante looked at him. “They already know we think like that.” He pointed toward the southern road. “They want us looking away from the obvious.” Dante followed his finger. “The warehouse.” Enzo nodded. “The same place.” They reached the warehouse within minutes. The building was dark. No lights. No vehicles. No guards. Dante raised his hand. Everyone stopped. Then they heard it. A child crying. “Mama!” Enzo’s face hardened. “Mia.” He moved forward. Dante grabbed his arm. “Wait.” Enzo looked at him. “There could be a trap.” “I know.” Dante released him. “But she’s in there.” They entered together. The crying grew louder. They reached the back room. The door was open. Inside was Mia. Alive. Alone. Her hands weren’t tied. There were no guards. No attacker. Just the child sitting on the floor. Enzo crouched immediately. “Mia.” She threw herself into his arms. Enzo held her tightly. Dante stood in the doorway. Then Mia whispered something. Enzo looked up. “What?” She pointed toward the corner. “He told me to tell you something.” Dante’s eyes narrowed. “Who?” “The man.” “What man?” She began crying again. Enzo held her closer. “What did he say?” Mia wiped her face. “He said…” She struggled to remember. “…the kings have to choose.” Dante’s expression darkened. “Choose what?” The girl looked at him. “Each other.” Silence. Then the lights went out. A gunshot came from outside. Dante immediately pushed Enzo and Mia behind the wall. Another shot. Then silence. Dante looked at Enzo. The young king was holding the child against his chest. Neither man needed to say it. They understood. The enemy wasn’t trying to kill them yet. They were trying to make them choose who would die first. And the next choice would not be between peace and war. It would be between two men and everyone caught between them.