The moment the gunshot rang out, Tony was swiftly thrown into a car by his bodyguards before he could react. They shouted urgently, "Run, run!" Their sole purpose, along with the occupants of the second car behind them, was to protect Tony. With the attack happening so suddenly, the bodyguards instinctively focused on escape.
The driver acted quickly, slamming down on the accelerator as the car lurched forward. Another gunshot echoed behind them, and several bullets pierced through the car seat. The driver skillfully maneuvered, swerving to avoid further shots, and sped away down the street.
"Let's go!" As the car sped off, the assailant slammed his door shut, started his engine, and took off in pursuit. Putting his gun away, one of the attackers cursed and pounded the seat in frustration. "Damn it! He must have been an idiot behind the wheel! If he keeps swerving like that, I might not even hit him! What if we accidentally kill him?"
"Shit, if we hit the target, I'll lose my bonus for this job!" grumbled one of the other men, their expressions darkening with anger and disappointment.
Meanwhile, in Montclair, two men arrived at a café, laughing and chatting. They approached an empty table, blending in with the crowd. Suddenly, they pulled out their weapons and began firing at a group of four seated nearby. The café erupted into chaos as gunshots rang out and screams filled the air. The unsuspecting victims didn't stand a chance; they were gunned down before they could react. After emptying their magazines, the assailants casually holstered their guns and nonchalantly left, one of them even stopping to gulp down a drink from a table as they exited.
At the same time, at a garbage disposal plant in the city's southeast corner, two figures in overalls jumped out of a vehicle and made their way to the office. They knocked on the door, and upon receiving a shout from inside, one of them entered.
"Who are you?" asked a young man behind the desk, startled by their presence.
"The Apple family sends their regards," one of the intruders replied. The young man's face paled as he reached instinctively for something beneath the desk, but it was too late. The intruder fired several shots, emptying his magazine before turning to escape.
The sound of gunfire sent shockwaves through the garbage plant, prompting several workers to rush out in alarm. Without hesitation, the two intruders revealed their weapons—a pair of Mac-10s—and began firing indiscriminately. The barrage of bullets took down several workers instantly.
However, the workers were not ordinary civilians; they quickly took cover and returned fire, igniting a fierce shootout. The intruders found themselves pinned down, forced to retreat into the office for safety.
"Quick, those two bastards are holed up in Bulville's office! Bulville must be dead! Grab a submachine gun and let's take them out!" the workers shouted as they rallied.
Outside, the chaos continued, but unnoticed by the gunmen, two others had just arrived in a garbage truck. A muscular Black man armed with an M60 machine gun prepared for action, while another with an M16 scanned the scene.
"Looks like there are enough targets here," the man with the M16 said.
"Okay! Let's move!" They leaped from the truck, and the Black man unleashed a torrent of gunfire from the M60. The powerful weapon roared to life, spraying bullets that tore through the air and caught the Soprano family members off guard. The sudden assault was overwhelming, and before they could effectively respond, they were caught in a deadly crossfire.
Within a minute, the area around the garbage plant was transformed into a war zone, filled with smoke and chaos. The two intruders emerged from Bulville's office, shaken but alive, narrowly dodging the onslaught of bullets.
"Fake, fake, fake! Torre, you almost got me killed!" one exclaimed, his heart racing.
"Accident! Hahaha! It's not easy to control this thing!" Torre laughed, gripping his weapon tightly.
"Let's check for any stragglers and then get out of here," the short-haired man ordered as he retracted his sniper rifle from the garbage truck.
Following the leader's orders, the team swiftly searched the area before climbing back into the garbage truck. In just ten minutes, they were gone, swapping their vehicle for another to evade the sirens blaring in the distance.
News of the violent incidents spread rapidly, sending shockwaves through the families of the DiMeo crime group. The chilling message, "The Apple family sends their regards," left no doubt that Acomo Apple was behind the strikes—something not unheard of since tensions had escalated between him and the Soprano family.
As the chaos unfolded, the ramifications of the attacks rippled through the criminal underworld. The DiMeo family was on high alert, reeling from the boldness of the Apple family's actions. Acomo Apple's reputation for ruthlessness only intensified the fear among rival factions.
In a dimly lit backroom of a Montclair bar, the leaders of the DiMeo family gathered for an emergency meeting. Tension hung heavy in the air as they discussed their next move.
"What the hell were they thinking?" one member fumed, slamming his fist on the table. "Attacking us in broad daylight? They've got a death wish!"
"We can't let this slide," another added, his voice low but firm. "If we don't strike back now, we look weak. We'll lose our standing in the city."
Acomo Apple had crossed a line, and everyone knew it. They needed a plan—something decisive that would send a clear message.
Meanwhile, across town, Acomo sat in his lavish office, surveying the city through a large window. He felt a rush of adrenaline from the successful attacks. But he also knew the retaliation would come, and he had to be ready.
"We need to fortify our operations and keep a low profile for a bit," he instructed his closest advisors. "But we can't let our guard down. The Soprano family will be gunning for us."
Back at the DiMeo meeting, the group strategized. They decided to hit back where it would hurt the most—by targeting Acomo's key operations and allies. They mapped out a plan to disrupt his supply lines, hit his finances, and make clear that they wouldn't be intimidated.
As night fell, both families prepared for the inevitable clash. The streets were tense, filled with whispers of the brewing war. Each side fortified their defenses, armed their men, and steeled their resolve for the violent days ahead.
At the same time, the media began to catch wind of the escalating conflict. News outlets buzzed with speculation, linking the recent shootings to a power struggle between the DiMeo and Apple families. The public, largely unaware of the intricacies of organized crime, watched with a mix of fascination and fear.
In the shadows, both families plotted their next moves, knowing that the stakes had never been higher. With blood already spilled, the city braced for a storm—a violent showdown that would reshape the criminal landscape.
As the sun rose on a new day, both Acomo Apple and the DiMeo leaders were resolved to take action. The streets would soon run red, and the echoes of gunfire would reverberate through Montclair, signaling the start of a brutal war for supremacy.