Chapter 13 - The Docks of Retribution
|
A bitter midnight wind whipped across the dark waters of Newark Bay, rattling the towering industrial shipping cranes like iron skeletons.
The container vessel Northern Star sat moored against the concrete pier, its massive diesel engines rumbling as cargo was loaded under heavy guard.
Julian Rossi paced the edge of the loading dock, surrounded by twenty heavily armed bodyguards in Kevlar vests.
Beside him, Cassian clutched a reinforced aluminum briefcase containing the bearer bonds, his face twisted with frantic anxiety.
"Hurry up with those cash crates!" Cassian hissed at the crane operators.
"Moretti’s men could be tracking us right now!"
"Relax, Cassian," Rossi snarled, checking his gold watch under the flickering halogen lights.
"Roman is either dead in the Hudson Valley or bleeding out in an emergency clinic."
Suddenly, every high-voltage floodlight across the shipping terminal shut down simultaneously, plunging the pier into pitch-black shadow.
The massive computerized container crane above their heads groaned to life with a deafening screech of hydraulic gears.
High inside the crane’s elevated control cabin, Nora sat before the digital terminal, her fingers dancing across the override switches.
She engaged the magnetic cargo clamps, swinging a forty-ton steel shipping container through the air with pinpoint accuracy.
The steel container slammed down onto the pier with a thunderous crash, blocking Rossi’s armored getaway convoy in a shower of sparks.
Before the mercenaries could react, red laser sights pierced the darkness from every shipping stack surrounding the dock.
Roman stepped into the beam of a lone emergency spotlight, looking like an angel of death in a long black tactical coat.
Lev and forty heavily armed Moretti enforcers fanned out behind him, cutting off every avenue of escape.
"Going somewhere, Julian?" Roman’s voice boomed across the concrete dock, dripping with icy contempt.
Cassian screamed in terror, dropping the briefcase and raising his trembling hands into the cold night air.
"Roman! Please! It was Rossi’s idea! He forced me!"
"Shut your mouth, coward," Rossi roared, drawing his silver pistol and aiming it directly at Roman’s chest.
A single, precise rifle crack echoed from the crane tower above, fired by one of Roman's snipers stationed beside Nora.
The bullet shattered the weapon in Rossi’s hand, sending the pistol clattering across the asphalt in pieces.
Rossi collapsed to his knees, clutching his bleeding fingers, his arrogant composure completely shattered.
Dozens of federal law enforcement sirens suddenly wailed in the distance, blue and red emergency lights flashing across the bay.
Ten armored FBI tactical vehicles breached the perimeter gates, surrounding the pier in a blinding display of federal authority.
Special Agent Miller stepped out of the lead vehicle with an arrest warrant in hand, his weapon trained on the kneeling crime boss.
"Julian Rossi, Cassian Miller," the agent announced over a megaphone.
"You are under arrest for international racketeering, money laundering, and attempted murder."
Rossi looked up at Roman in wild, venomous disbelief as federal agents slapped steel handcuffs around his wrists.
"You called the feds?" Rossi spat, blood dripping from his lip.
"A Moretti working with the government?"
Roman walked over, looking down at his defeated rival with cold, mocking pity.
"I didn't call the federal authorities, Julian," Roman replied smoothly, pointing upward toward the towering crane cabin.
"My Chief Logistics Officer delivered an unalterable digital paper trail to the Department of Justice forty minutes ago."
The cabin elevator descended, and Nora stepped out onto the concrete dock, the wind whipping her hair as she walked to Roman’s side.
She looked down at Cassian and Rossi, her expression calm, triumphant, and completely untouchable.
May you like
"Numbers never lie, gentlemen," Nora said, her voice clear and resonant in the cold salt air.
"Even when you try to bury them in an alleyway."
