The man parked the truck on the side of the road, his breathing still heavy. Vitale approached with firm steps, his presence imposing.
"Get off the truck," Vitale ordered, his tone unwavering.
The man, visibly nervous, obeyed and jumped out of the truck, his hands trembling.
"Listen, I don't know who you are," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "but I see you already know that I don't transport fish." I have nothing to do with this. Some men forced me to carry this... Please don't do anything to me.
The desperation in his eyes was palpable, as if every word could be the difference between his life and an uncertain fate. Vitale watched him carefully, evaluating the sincerity of his words as the wind blew gently between them.
—Shut up already! I won't do anything to you, I just need you to tell me some things. "But if you make a fuss, I'll blow your skull off," Vitale said, his voice low but full of menace.
The driver swallowed, his face pale as paper.
-No! "Okay, okay... I'm willing to tell you whatever you need," he responded, his voice shaking with desperation as he raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.
Fear shone in his eyes, reflecting the seriousness of the situation. Every word that came out of his mouth was an attempt to save himself, knowing that any wrong move could be fatal.
—Where is the base of the criminal gang? Vitale asked, staring at him.
"The base where they are sheltered is not that far from here," the man responded, while trying to remain calm.
The man told Vitale how to get there, pointing with a nervous gesture.
—Perfect... Thank you for your cooperation. "You can go now, but this is between us," Vitale said, his tone firm but tinged with warning.
"Y...yes," the man stammered, backing away slowly, as if each step brought him closer to a longed-for freedom. He walked away slowly, with his head bowed and his shoulders slumped, as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his back.
Vitale watched their departure with satisfaction; He finally had the truck under his control. With this information, he could move on to the next phase of his plan, one step closer to dismantling the criminal gang.
Vitale walked to the back of the truck and opened the doors with a creak.
"Pff, wow..." he murmured, surprised. It's loaded to the brim!
The back of the truck was packed with boxes and packages containing an impressive amount of illegal substances, each labeled with symbols that spoke of their danger.
With determination, he headed towards his car. He took the bomb out of the trunk and put the grenade in his jacket, next to his pistol, feeling the weight of the power he carried with him. Before leaving he keyed his car.
He returned to the truck, where he carefully placed the bomb among the boxes of substances, making sure it was well hidden. Then, he got into the truck, ready to drive, his mind already plotting the next steps of his plan.
"Okay, now I have to drive to their base... I have to pretend to be one of those workers," Vitale murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
He started the truck and began his journey. In about ten minutes, he was approaching his destination.
"According to that man... It's this way," he said to himself, looking for references in the landscape that would confirm that he was in the right direction.
When he arrived, he found himself in front of a gloomy place, surrounded by high concrete walls that seemed to absorb the sunlight. The entrance was guarded by imposing black bars.
"It must be that place," Vitale murmured.
He drove up to the gates and honked the horn, making an echo that echoed through the place. Vitale looked at the center of the compound, where a somewhat dilapidated hangar stood, full of men chatting animatedly, oblivious to the arrival of their cargo.
Despite the tense atmosphere, Vitale did not feel intimidated; Instead, a pang of pity passed through him as he imagined what awaited these men.
Finally, a sturdy man approached and opened the bars with a metallic squeak.
—Did you bring the cargo? the man asked, his eyes scanning Vitale.
"Y...yes, I did," Vitale responded, trying to imitate a shy attitude.
The man let Vitale pass and ordered him to park around the hangar. Vitale obeyed, driving slowly as he felt all eyes on the truck. The tension in the air was palpable, and he couldn't help but analyze every detail of the place around him.
As he got closer, he could hear fragments of the conversations of the men as he passed.
—Until the cargo arrived! -exclaimed one, with a tone of relief.
"Our plan went perfectly," answered another, with a mocking laugh that echoed among the walls of the hangar.
Vitale parked the truck where he had been instructed and, before getting out, took a deep breath. He knew he couldn't be the same as always; He had to put on a facade of shyness and fear, as if he were out of his element.
With a trembling hand, he opened the truck door and got out. Several men watched him from afar, their gazes curious and distrustful. The robust man from the beginning approached, his walk firm and determined.
Without wasting time, he opened the rear doors of the truck and verified that the substances were there.
"Perfect... Everything is here," he said, closing the doors with a dull thump that echoed in the tense air.
Vitale felt a momentary relief, but it was short-lived. The sturdy man approached him with an authoritative air.
—You've done a good job, but don't be so relaxed, idiot. Then you will bring us more loads, you heard! The man said, his voice ringing with a mix of approval and threat.
"Co... whatever you want," Vitale responded, struggling to keep up his act.
The robust man looked him over from head to toe, as if he was evaluating every detail of his appearance.
—Your style is not bad at all. Do you think you're a gang member? —he said with a mocking laugh that echoed among the men watching from afar.
Laughter echoed in the air, and Vitale felt the pressure building. Every glance on him was a reminder that he must play his role perfectly; any mistake could be disastrous. Although he was in enemy territory, inside he was unconcerned.
The sturdy man took a step forward, sticking close to Vitale, who could feel his heavy breath.
—Hey, what a nice jacket you have with you. Why don't you give it to me? "It would be good for one of my comrades," he said, as his hand rested on Vitale's jacket.
In that instant, all the patience and calm he had managed to maintain vanished. Vitale's heart was pounding; In his jacket were the grenade and the pistol, and he could not allow him to be discovered. Adrenaline coursed through his body like lightning.
"Hey, don't touch my jacket, meddler," Vitale replied, shoving him harder than he'd planned.
The act was impulsive, and at that moment, he had stepped out of his role a bit, letting the real Vitale escape. The sturdy man's gaze hardened, and the laughter of the other men immediately died away. The air became thick with palpable tension. Vitale could feel how all eyes were on him now.
The other men began to approach Vitale, some wielding worn-out bats and others holding clubs with nails embedded in them, creating a menacing image.
The sturdy man raised a hand, signaling for his companions to stop. The tension in the air was palpable.
—Who the hell do you think you are to push me? he roared, his voice booming like thunder. You know, I could tear you to shreds right now, but you have work to do for us. The next time you touch me, you won't live to tell the tale.
The man's words cut the air like a knife. Vitale listened to him, trying to regain his role and not draw more attention to himself. He held back; Rage bubbled inside him, wanting to unleash itself in a beating, but he knew it wasn't good for him. He had to be clever, although he felt frustrated having to endure that threat.
—Go away already? What are you waiting for? Do you want something in return? —said the robust man, his voice thick with disdain.
Vitale managed to regain his confidence. "Well, maybe I deserve something for bringing you this," he replied sheepishly, trying to get some money from them.
-That? You're crazy? "Be thankful you get out of here unscathed," the man replied, his gaze withering.
With a resigned sigh, Vitale ended up walking slowly towards the exit, feeling the heavy gazes of the men on him like a crushing blanket. But he finally managed to get out successfully.
Once outside, he quickly walked away, making sure no one was watching him. The cool air hit his face.
Vitale noticed that they closed the gate back. It was a golden opportunity. He looked in all directions, making sure no one was around. The silence of the place was almost deafening.
He began to walk around the place, sticking to the worn walls, trying to locate where he had parked the truck. With every step, he felt the adrenaline flow through his veins.
"I think it was around here," he muttered to himself.
The walls were cracked and old, which gave it a certain advantage; The construction seemed to be on the verge of collapse. With a quick glance around, he made sure he was alone before deciding to act.
"I'll make a small hole," he thought.
It didn't take much effort to open a small hole in the wall. Carefully, he peeked out an eye to look inside the place. There it was: the truck, parked just on the other side of the wall. Now only the last move of his plan was missing.
Vitale pulled the grenade out of his jacket slowly, feeling the cold weight of the metal in his hand. He looked at her intently, as if he could communicate with her.
"Don't fail me," he murmured softly, holding the crowbar firmly before preparing to throw it over the wall.
The thought that everything could change in an instant crossed his mind. "If the grenade explodes with the truck, the bomb will explode too," he thought, imagining the chaos that would be unleashed. It will activate automatically and will surely turn this place into ashes.
With a last breath, he felt that the time had come. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he prepared to do what he had to do.
"Well, it's time," he said to himself, raising his arm determinedly.
Vitale removed the locking ring from the grenade and, with one determined movement, threw it over the wall, carefully timing his throw. Time seemed to stop at that moment.
As soon as he threw the grenade, Vitale ran away without a second thought, without looking back. I had about 4 or 5 seconds before the grenade exploded; It was like he was falling in slow motion.
The images of the place blurred as he moved further away. The grenade was spinning in the air, and he could imagine the impact that was to come. Finally, the dull sound of the grenade hitting the ground was heard, landing right next to the truck.
The grenade exploded, consuming the truck in a titanic explosion. The bomb inside was immediately activated, and a blinding white light illuminated the place, followed by a deafening roar that echoed throughout the area.
Vitale threw himself to the ground, seeking refuge behind a small mountain of dirt. The air vibrated with the echo of the chaos that surrounded him.
The explosion devastated everything in its path, sending pieces of wood and debris into the air. The hangar was reduced to ruins, and Vitale felt the impact of the hot air on his face as he watched the gang that had been there share the same fate.
Silence came briefly, broken only by the crackling of burning wreckage.
Vitale stood up from the ground, while observing the disaster he had caused in the distance. It had all happened so quickly, but he had done it.
A satisfied smile appeared on his face, a flash of triumph after a complicated job.
He turned around and started walking towards the street, feeling the dust and debris beneath his feet. The calm that followed the chaos was almost surreal.
"I'd better leave as soon as possible," he muttered to himself. Damn, I'll have to walk about 20 minutes to reach my car.
Each step resonated with the echo of his recent action.
The sun fell behind him, casting his long shadow as he walked down the street, creating an epic image amidst the chaos he had left behind. After a walk that seemed eternal, his eyes lit up when he saw his car in the distance.
—There it is! —he exclaimed with a smile that illuminated his face—. I have finally arrived.
A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he approached, feeling the built-up tension begin to dissipate.
He opened his car door and got in, letting out a deep breath. As he closed the door, the outside world momentarily faded away, and a wave of relaxation washed over him. Vitale felt calm, as if nothing had happened; the determination and coldness he had shown in acting were relentless.
—What do you think if we leave this place? —he said in an almost playful tone, as if he could speak to the engine that had accompanied him.
He started the engine and felt the familiar roar of the vehicle comfort him. He stepped on the accelerator and left there.