Rafael_Zimichut

Gregory Evans is called to investigate a terrorist attack and discovers that a radical Islamic group has been recruiting young people to carry out attacks in various locations in New York and there is only one person who can help him in the investigation, an enemy from the past.

In a journey marked by deaths and secrets hidden in political relations, Gregory Evans finds clues that will bring him face to face with a shocking revelation and the astonishing truth that we have ignored for so long.

Racing against time, Gregory Evans and the Italian mafia enter into a frantic hunt for religious and political assassins, and unravel enigmas, following a trail that may lead to the secret lair where lies the only hope of saving New York City, before it collapses.

THE SECRET PACT

BENEDETTI RAN TOWARDS Tony, swimming against the human current that was pressing down on him. The people who were desperately passing by prevented him from going any faster; he pushed and even knocked some down, just to get there and help his boss. Someone who was running like crazy hit him hard in the ribs, knocking the breath out of him. Another one ran past screaming like an animal, scratching his neck with his claws, while he pulled himself forward, towards the stage of the event.

— What madness is this?! — he asked himself, while he stroked the wound on his neck, watching the madman continue on his way.

He finally crossed the immense sea of ​​crazed people. With difficulty, because the weight of age was already becoming an obstacle, he took Rodman's body off his friend and checked his pulse.

He didn't seem to be breathing, but he still had a pulse.

— You undying wretch! — he exclaimed happily, seeing that Tony was still alive.

The wounds were bleeding profusely; there was no point in doing anything the old-fashioned way, like laying him down on a bed and treating his wounds himself. Without urgent medical assistance, he wouldn't be able to help Tony.

Carl looked around and looked for an ambulance that could help the dying man. He saw the lights flashing at a point not far from Fifth Avenue and decided that was where it was. He lifted Tony onto his shoulders and began to sneak toward it.

You have to give it time, you have to!

The people running bumped into him, almost impeding his saving progress. The great effort he was making made the headache caused by the loud noise even worse, to the point that Carl Benedetti tripped over his own feet a few times, because something was messing with his sense of space and a strange dizziness seemed to come and go.

His heart was racing and the old man even thought he was having a heart attack.

The red that ran from his nostrils disappeared as it dripped onto his hands, already washed with the blood of his comrade. He remembered the days of the war. Amidst the dizziness, he could hear the sounds of mortars and the screams around him became as hopeless as the wails of the Vietnamese in those days. The people who were still running around him looked very much like the tall bushes he had crossed decades ago, and a mine exploded beneath him.

CHAPTER 92