Inside the cavernous, multi-tiered chamber of the central distillation vat, the air was thick with the acrid stench of sulfur, fuel oil, and cordite. Halogen work lights swung from the overhead girders, casting erratic, swinging shadows across massive steel storage tanks and high-pressure steam valves. Salvatore ascended the spiral iron staircase with silent, predatory grace. At the top observation platform, forty feet above the concrete floor, stood Don Vittorio Moretti.…
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