Cold air rushed the scent of gunpowder, blood, and crushed bones straight into Domenico’s face as he looked out of the helicopter, into the darkness lit up by outbreaks of bright orange and red among the trees. Even through the noise of the rotor above, he could hear the continuous gunfire, but a sudden burst from a bazooka made him laugh loudly. It had been a while since he’d seen something like this. Having mostly worked in undercover missions, he wasn’t that familiar with full frontal assault, but after the fence of the base exploded on both sides of the vast enclosure and the Coffin Nails swarmed inside the base, it was a sight to behold from above. The club members carried all the heavy weaponry they could gather from the neighboring chapters and associated gangs and were making their way into the base like medieval cavalry after storming the walls of a castle. The fact that so many of them were on motorcycles only added to that impression as the bright lights moved through the darkness below.