The sales associate’s eyes widened in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected comment. Her expression shifted subtly, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Well, sir,” she said, her voice now carrying a hint of intrigue, “we do have some exclusive pieces that aren’t on display. Perhaps you’d be interested in something truly unique?”
Diego, recalling Roger’s advice from his previous visit, nodded with a playful grin. Roger had mentioned that the exact location of their target was not straightforward and that they would be guided by one of the staff to reach it. Initially, Diego had considered trying to find it on their own, but failed, so he decided to follow Roger’s lead instead.
“Oh, absolutely, darling. I’m always on the lookout for something that stands out from the rest,” Diego replied, echoing the words Roger had suggested.
The sales associate leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Tell me, what do you think of the ‘midnight silk’ collection? It’s quite rare.”
Diego, using the information Roger had provided, responded confidently, “Ah, the midnight silk. It’s all about the texture, isn’t it? Smooth as a whisper, with a depth that captures the night.”
The sales associate’s smile widened, clearly satisfied with his answer. “Precisely. Follow me, please.”
She led Diego and his team through the boutique, weaving between racks of clothing until they reached a discreet door marked “Storage.” Inside, the room appeared to be a simple stockroom, filled with boxes and racks of garments. However, the sales associate moved towards a small, unassuming door at the back.
“This way,” she said, opening the door to reveal a narrow passage leading to an underground elevator. The elevator descended slowly, the air growing cooler and more tense with each passing moment.
As the doors opened, Diego and his team stepped into a dimly lit underground facility. The atmosphere was starkly different from the boutique above. The room was expansive, with rows of tables covered in various substances and equipment. Workers moved methodically, packaging and preparing shipments under the watchful eyes of armed guards.
The walls were lined with shelves stocked with chemicals and supplies, and the air was thick with the scent of illicit activity. It was clear that this was the heart of the Moretti family’s drug trafficking operation.
A man approached Diego and his team, nodding to the sales associate. She returned the nod and stepped back into the elevator, leaving them in the underground facility.
“Welcome,” the man said, his voice low and businesslike. “What kind of product are you looking for today?”
Diego, maintaining his composed demeanor, replied with a casual air, “We’re interested in exploring some of your more… exclusive offerings. Something that really stands out in the market.”
The man nodded, gesturing for them to follow him deeper into the facility. As they walked, Diego took in his surroundings, his eyes discreetly scanning the workers who moved with practiced efficiency. He noted the presence of armed guards, their eyes sharp and watchful.
“Of course,” the man continued, “we have a variety of items that cater to different needs. Are you looking for something potent, or perhaps something with a more subtle effect?”
Diego played along, his mind racing as he calculated their next steps. “I’m intrigued by the idea of something potent, yet refined. Quality is key, after all.”
As they passed rows of tables laden with substances and equipment, Diego kept the conversation flowing, all the while assessing the situation. He noted the layout of the room, the positions of the guards, and the potential exits.
“Your operation here is quite impressive,” Diego remarked, glancing at the workers. “I can see why you’re so well-regarded in certain circles.”
The man chuckled, clearly pleased with the compliment. “We pride ourselves on efficiency and discretion. Our clients expect nothing less.”
Diego nodded, his mind still working through the possibilities. He knew they had to be careful, but he also sensed an opportunity to gather crucial information. As they walked, he decided to probe further.
“So, about the products,” Diego began, maintaining a casual tone. “What kind of pricing are we looking at? And how much can you supply at a time? I’m also curious about the turnaround-how long does the whole process take from order to delivery?”
The man glanced at Diego, seemingly pleased with his interest. “Pricing depends on the quantity and the specific product. We can handle large orders, but we pride ourselves on quality, so it takes time. Typically, we can fulfill orders within a week, depending on the complexity.”
As they continued their conversation, Diego subtly signaled to his team, indicating which targets they should prioritize. His gestures were discreet, a slight nod here, a glance there, ensuring that his team understood without drawing attention.
Meanwhile, his three teammates began to disperse, each moving towards one of the armed guards. They pretended to examine various items nearby, blending in with the activity around them. Their movements were casual, but their focus was sharp, ready to act if necessary.
Diego kept the conversation going, his demeanor relaxed. “It’s impressive how smoothly everything runs here. Efficiency is key in this line of work, isn’t it?”
The man nodded, clearly enjoying the praise. “Absolutely. We have a reputation to uphold, and we take it very seriously.”
Diego decided to push the boundaries a bit further. “And what about the Sicilian Familia? How much of a share do they have in this operation?” he asked, his tone still casual but with an edge of curiosity.
The man’s expression stiffened at the unexpected question, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Diego. “What do you mean by that?” he asked cautiously, suspicion creeping into his voice.
Diego shrugged nonchalantly, maintaining his calm demeanor. “Oh, I just meant-” he paused, letting the tension build before suddenly grabbing the man’s head and slamming it against the wall with a swift, decisive motion.
The sudden violence caught the attention of the four armed guards, who immediately drew their weapons. However, Diego’s team was already in motion. With practiced precision, they disarmed the guards, moving swiftly and efficiently.
One of Diego’s men managed to wrestle a gun away from a guard and, in a quick motion, fired at the hand of another guard who had his weapon trained on Diego. The shot was precise, causing the guard to drop his gun with a cry of pain.
But it wasn’t over yet. The workers in the facility, clearly trained for more than just their day-to-day tasks, began to set aside their equipment, ready to confront Diego and his team. Their movements were deliberate, revealing their expertise in combat.
Diego smiled, a confident glint in his eyes. He adjusted his flamboyant floral shirt, carefully placing his hat to the side. His demeanor was calm, almost casual, as if he were preparing for a dance rather than a fight.
His teammates followed suit, one of them stepping up beside Diego with a determined look. They moved with a certain flair, their steps purposeful and synchronized. The click of their heels echoed in the room, adding a rhythmic beat to the tense atmosphere.
As they stood side by side with Diego, poised and ready, the room was charged with anticipation. Both sides were prepared for the impending confrontation, each confident in their skills.
Diego, with a determined glint in his eye, broke the silence. “Let’s begin!” he declared, his voice steady and commanding.
With that, he and his team surged forward, heels clicking against the floor as they launched into action.