Chapter 8 - The Serpents Beneath
Sal descended into the lower subway tunnels beneath the city hospital, his boots splashing through shallow, stagnant runoff water. The air was thick with the stench of iron, decay, and electrical ozone from the third rail running parallel to the abandoned MTA tracks.
""Julian didn't run on his own,"" Sal said into his radio, his breath steady despite the steep descent. ""Someone extracted him. Keep Elena locked down. Cut all external comms. If anyone approaches that safehouse perimeter without my direct personal countersign, kill them on sight.""
""Understood, Mr. Moretti,"" Frank replied before Sal lost signal in the subterranean depths.
Sal flicked on a small tactical flashlight mounted beneath the barrel of his handgun. The thin beam cut through the thick humidity, revealing scuffed footprints in the mud alongside the rusted rails. Victor was fleeing toward the abandoned Fulton connector—a dead-end spur sealed off during the 1980 transit overhaul.
A sudden flare of sparks lit up the dark fifty yards ahead.
Sal lowered his beam, advancing slowly. The sparks cascaded from an exposed breaker box. Sitting on an upturned wooden crate directly beneath the flickering light was Julian.
His suit was torn to shreds, his face bruised and streaked with soot. But the terror that had consumed him in the maternity suite was gone. In its place was a vacant, shivering calm. In his hands, he held a black tactical tablet, its blue screen casting an eerie glow over his hollow cheeks.
""Julian,"" Sal called out, the darkness swallowing the edges of his voice. ""Where is he?""
Julian slowly looked up, his lips curving into a grotesque, broken smile. ""He told me you would follow, Sal. He said you were a dinosaur... driven by primitive concepts like family and territory.""
Sal took two slow steps forward, scanning the shadows behind the boy. ""Where is Victor?""
""Victor isn't a boss, Sal,"" Julian whispered, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the tablet screen. ""Victor is an employee. Just like I was. We all work for the board now.""
Sal raised his weapon, leveling it directly at Julian’s forehead. ""Get up.""
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Julian didn't move. He simply flipped the tablet screen toward Sal. Displayed on the monitor was a live drone feed of a helicopter flying through heavy clouds over upstate New York. A red target reticle was locked onto the fuselage.
""Victor isn't in these tunnels, Sal,"" Julian giggled, his sanity clearly snapping. ""He never was. That was a double in the garage. And right now... my employers are verifying if the infant is worth more to them dead or alive.""
