down the aisle between two rows of shelves. The acrid smoke made him want to double over and cough, but he ran anyway, and Giulia stayed right with him.
Gunfire cracked. A bullet ricocheted off a shelf, and they both ducked.
“This way!” Giulia grabbed his arm and hauled him through a gap between rows. Danny stumbled, but quickly found his stride, and now they were running down the next aisle.
Up ahead, he saw two chairs with men tied in them. The smoke was starting to get thick and his eyes were tearing up, so he couldn’t make out faces, but they had to be James and Carmine.
He pointed toward them. “There!”
Giulia nodded. They headed in that direction, but a shotgun blast sent them both scrambling for cover. They ducked behind some crates, and more bullets and shot ricocheted off everything around them.
Danny took out his pistol. “I’ll try to hold them back.” He nodded toward James and Carmine. “You go get them loose.”
Giulia nodded. “All right. Let’s—”
More gunfire. Closer this time. And—not firing at them.
Confused, Danny looked around, and two shadows approached from the other end of the aisle, weapons raised. He blinked against the smoke, and—
Giulia gasped. “Carmine?”
One of the shadows paused, and Danny’s eyes had just started to focus when Carmine called out, “Giulia?”
Danny’s heart went wild. Carmine was alive? And the man next to him—that had to be James. How they’d freed themselves from the chairs, he didn’t know, but he wasn’t about to look the gift horse in the mouth.
He and Giulia started to head toward Carmine and James, but then bullets were flying again, this time from all directions. They ducked, wincing as shot pinged off shelves and crates dangerously close to them.
Giulia coughed a few times, then shouted over the noise, “We have to move! If the guns don’t kill us, the fire will!”
She was right. The smoke was getting thicker and lower, the flames were licking closer by the second. Blood pounded in Danny’s ears. They had to move. Question was where and how? And how many more of Salvatore’s men were in this burning warehouse?
There was gunfire coming from outside. The Morellos and il Sacchis, probably. Thank God the Morellos were here—they could handle the il Sacchis and keep them busy outside. That meant fewer men and fewer guns in here. Good.
“Come on, Daniel,” Salvatore shouted over the fire and the noise. “Face me like a man, you son of a whore! You can’t hide forever!”
More gunfire.
Danny swore. The heat was unbearable, and sweat poured off his skin as smoke burned his nose and throat. Through the thickening smoke, though, he could see Salvatore from here, crouched low as he struggled to load his revolver with his arm in plaster. To Giulia, Danny said, “I have an idea.” He turned toward Salvatore and shouted, “Stop shooting, and I’ll come out.”
Salvatore gestured at someone, then kept reloading. The shooting slowed. After a few more gunshots, it all stopped. For a moment, the warehouse was strangely silent aside from the crackling fire and the chaos outside.
“You want me to face you?” Danny called out. “Then let me face you.”
More silence.
Quietly, he said, “Get to James and Carmine, and get out of here.” He gestured at the other aisle, which she could get to by climbing through the shelves. “The doors along the south and west sides of the building should open.”
“What about you?”
“Go.”
She clearly wanted to argue, but she muttered something and slipped away toward the other aisle.
“Well?” Salvatore shouted, standing up with his revolver at the ready. “I’m waiting, Daniel. Come on out.”
“All right. All right.” Danny rested his elbows on a crate and aimed through the gap at Salvatore. “I’m coming out. I just—”
Something exploded. Shelves collapsed. Sparks flew up into the air, and the fire began to spread even faster. Men shouted. Danny lost sight of Salvatore for a moment, and glancing behind him, he’d completely lost track of Carmine and James; they were somewhere on the other side of the debris. God willing, they weren’t under it.
Heart pounding, he turned toward Salvatore again. He was difficult to see through the smoke, but he was still there.
“Boss, we gotta get out of here!” someone shouted. “The whole place is coming down!”
Salvatore looked toward the voice, and Danny seized the opportunity—he fired three shots as quickly as he could. One went wide, but the other two hit Salvatore in the gut. With an agonized cry, Salvatore dropped to his knees. He tried to