He looked at the emptied convoy and smiled coldly.
"Brother, why must you insist on working against me?"
I said nothing.
"Men, torch the trucks. Make sure Angelo Ferraro never moves product again."
"Yes, sir!"
"I dare you."
I smiled. "Open the seal."
One of my crew yanked the tarp off the lead vehicle's cargo frame.
Four words blazed under the floodlights: COMMISSION-PROTECTED SHIPMENT.
I rose to my feet. Looked straight at Emilio's bloodless face.
"What nerve you have, brother. Stealing from the Don himself."
