Set Sail

As the deafening sound of gunfire echoed through the air, Lorenzo ducked low in his car, peering out the window to see the chaos unfolding before him. Two vehicles had boxed them in from the front, and more were closing in from behind, their occupants unleashing a hail of bullets at Richard and Adam's cars, as well as their men's vehicles. The grim reality of their situation weighed heavily on him. He glanced over at Mike, who sat tense but unharmed in the driver's seat.

"Lorenzo, I'm so scared," Deborah whimpered, her trembling voice barely audible over the cacophony of gunfire. She was in his arms, seeking solace in his embrace.

"Shh, Deb, don't worry," he soothed, patting her back gently. "I'm here. I won't let anything happen to you." His words were firm but laced with reassurance. With a steely glint in his eye, he made up his mind. It was time to use his skill: {Slow Motion}.

The rat-a-tat-tat of gunfire directed at Richard, Adam, and their men's cars behind them was unmistakable. As the two cars in front of them began to reload their revolvers, Lorenzo knew their turn was next. He had to act fast.

"Wait here for me, Deb," he said, his voice firm but gentle.

"No! I don't want you to go!" Deborah cried, her grip on him tightening.

"Trust me, Deb. Nothing's going to happen to me." He reassured her, then turned to Mike. "Mike, stay here. Once I clear a path, you drive through it as fast as you can. Head for the docks. Anywhere near there is safe; it's Corleone territory."

Mike, visibly shaking, nodded in agreement.

Lorenzo stepped out of the car. Deborah's terrified voice rang in his ears as he slammed the door shut. "I'll be back, Deb! I promise!" he yelled through the glass. Mike held her back as she tried to follow.

As soon as he was out in the open, Lorenzo activated his ability. Time seemed to slow to a crawl around him, and his heightened senses took in every detail. The muzzle flashes from the revolvers were like fireflies in the night, and he could even make out the faces of their assailants. They were Irish, he realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

No time for that now, he thought, drawing his pistol from his pocket.

Lorenzo weaved through the hail of bullets as if they were moving in slow motion, his movements graceful and fluid. His cold, determined gaze locked onto the gunmen in the two blocking cars. With a steady hand, he pulled the trigger, one by one, aiming for the head. The shots rang out in quick succession, each finding its mark.

As he deactivated his Slow Motion ability, the world caught up to him, and the bullets he'd fired sped towards their targets. The thugs slumped over, lifeless, their weapons falling from their limp hands.

Lorenzo glanced back at the car, gesturing frantically. "Drive past it!" he yelled.

Mike, still shaking, took in the carnage before him. His boss had just taken out the gunmen with ruthless efficiency. He leaned out of the driver's seat window and hollered, "Boss, are you coming?" he yelled, fear laced with admiration in his voice.

Lorenzo's eyes, sharper than any normal man's, scanned the road ahead. "Go on, trust me, it's as clear as a bell up there," he said.

Deborah, her voice muffled by the car window, pleaded, "Please, Lorenzo! Don't leave me!"

Lorenzo's heart ached, but he knew what he had to do. "I gotta save my friends and men, Deb. Especially my… brother's life's hangin' in the balance."

Mike nodded, understanding the unspoken words.

Lorenzo's heart ached, but his mind was made up. "I gotta protect Deborah," he thought, "especially with who-knows-how-many comin' after us."

With a final nod, Mike stepped on the gas, and the car sped off, Deborah's desperate cries fading into the distance.

Once he'd ensured Deborah was safe in the car, Lorenzo sprinted towards the ambushed vehicles of his men. He ducked for cover and activated his {Slow Motion} skill. Time crawled to a crawl as bullets whizzed by in slow motion.

Lorenzo peeked out, aimed, and took down the goons in the first two cars with surgical precision. Reloading his weapon, he then picked off the remaining thugs in the other two.

Time resumed its normal pace, and the enemy fire ceased. Adam, Richard, and their men breathed a sigh of relief as their attackers slumped over, their lifeless bodies stained with blood.

"They stopped?" Adam questioned, peeking through the window.

Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out, "Adam! Richard!"

As they turned, they saw Lorenzo, pistol in hand, storming towards them. Smoke still drifted from the barrel, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who had ended their ambush so swiftly.

Richard, a World War II veteran who had known Lorenzo on the battlefield, was less shocked than Adam, but even he was stunned by the speed of the slaughter.

"How are you guys?" Lorenzo asked, concern in his voice.

"We're fine, but... Tiffany was shot in the shoulder!" Adam blurted out.

"Some of our men were also hit, boss!" Richard added.

Lorenzo sighed with both relief and determination. "Let's get to the docks, double-time! We'll patch them up on the cargo ship."

Adam nodded, then asked, "What about your car, boss?"

Lorenzo explained, "I sent Mike and Deborah ahead to the docks. It's just a few blocks away, and we're near Corleone turf. They'll be safe."

Adam glanced back at the wreckage, his jaw dropping at the carnage. He and the others couldn't believe what they'd just witnessed, but they knew better than to question Lorenzo's lethal efficiency.

Lorenzo's body, however, was already feeling the strain of using his skill. "Mind if I hitch a ride?" he asked, trying to hide his exhaustion.

"Here, boss!" Ricky called out, dragging a lifeless body from the driver's seat. "You can take his spot."

Lorenzo gratefully slid into the vacated car, his heart pounding in his chest as adrenaline ebbed away, leaving only fatigue in its wake.

"Alright," Lorenzo said, climbing into Ricky's car. "Let's move out. I have a feeling this ain't over."

As if on cue, the sound of engines roared in the distance right behind them.

Lorenzo, Adam, Richard, Ricky, and Henry all sped off in their respective vehicles, tires squealing as they raced towards the docks.

In their rearview mirrors, the ominous sight of pursuing headlights grew closer by the second.

"They're on our tail!" Ricky yelled, his voice panicked.

"Don't sweat it, kid," Lorenzo said, gripping the door handle. "Once we hit Corleone turf, we'll be in the clear!"

Ricky floored the gas pedal, and they careened through the streets, bullets whizzing past them like angry hornets.

Finally, they entered the Corleone's domain. Men in sharp suits and fedoras appeared out of nowhere, Tommy guns blazing. The assailants didn't even hesitate, U-turning and speeding off into the night.

As their car pulled up to the docks, Lorenzo and his men breathed a collective sigh of relief. In the distance, Lorenzo spotted his car parked nearby, Mike and Deborah standing next to it. The tension in the air was palpable, especially on Deborah's face. They had every right to be anxious, having waited for half an hour.

Lorenzo stepped out of the car, and before he could even straighten his suit, Deborah was running towards him, her heels clacking against the concrete. She threw her arms around him, her body trembling with emotion. "You made me sick with worry!" she sobbed into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Deb," he whispered, stroking her hair, "but I'm glad you're safe."

Deborah pulled back, her eyes red-rimmed but determined. "I'm glad you're safe too, but don't you ever do that again."

Lorenzo chuckled, feeling more content than he had any right to be. "I swear on my life, it won't happen again."

Deborah searched his eyes, seeking the truth. "You better mean it."

Lorenzo smiled, then sealed his promise with a deep, passionate kiss.

Deborah's lips curved into a smile, her tears still flowing but beginning to dry on her cheeks.

"Oh, Lorenzo," she teased, "You're such a charmer, making a lady cry."

A voice sounded from behind them, and both of them turned to see Sonny Corleone approaching with a grin.

"Sonny," Lorenzo greeted him with a nod.

"I've already got your route to the docks in Philadelphia set up," Sonny said, jerking his head towards the cargo ship in the distance, "and once you reach there, our boys have arranged for a plane ticket for you, your lover, and a few of your men to fly outta Philadelphia International Airport straight to Los Angeles."

Lorenzo's eyebrows rose in appreciation. He knew well enough that commercial air travel was tightly regulated these days, and securing tickets on such short notice was a testament to the Corleone family's influence.

As they boarded the cargo ship, Lorenzo couldn't help but think of Max, Patrick, and the others who had also used similar routes to escape the city and reach the major ports. He knew Sonny Corleone's men had already arranged plane tickets for them, and they were likely in Los Angeles by now, laying low.

His thoughts turned to his own men, who were being tended to belowdecks. Adam paced back and forth, worry etched on his face as he thought of Tiffany.

"Calm down, Adam," Lorenzo said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "she'll be fine."

Adam stopped and took a shaky breath. "Right... I'm just worried about our baby."

Lorenzo nodded. "She'll pull through, trust me. She just needs rest and your support. Focus on that, alright?" He wasn't just trying to boost Adam's confidence; as a former soldier, he knew his way around injuries. And he could tell that Tiffany's injury wasn't too serious.

Adam swallowed his fears and managed a weak smile. "Thanks, boss."

Lorenzo clapped him on the back before leaving to check on the others.

Finally, after some time, the cargo ship left the dock and began its journey to the port of Philadelphia.