Chapter 15 - THE SECRETS OF PIER 44The fog rolling off the East River clung to the rusted girders of Pier 44 like a shroud of wet cotton. The warehouse where Marcus had made his final stand was now dark and abandoned, police tape fluttering weakly in the midnight wind.
Aleandro and Mateo moved through the cavernous interior like shadows, their tactical flashlights cutting sharp beams through the heavy air. They bypassed the ruined offices and walked straight toward the back wall—the section that had been reinforced with concrete blocks decades ago, long before Aleandro’s father had ever carved the antique clock.
"According to the old blueprints from the city archive," Mateo whispered, shining his light against a rusted steel seam, "there’s a sub-basement underneath this pier. Built during the Prohibition era. Nobody has opened it since the 1990s."
Aleandro stepped forward. He pressed his palm against the cold steel plate. Beneath his hand, he felt a faint, steady vibration—not a machine, but the unmistakable hum of an auxiliary generator. Someone was down there. Someone had been living in the belly of the Moretti empire right under his nose.
"Stand back," Aleandro commanded.
He pulled a heavy military breaching charge from his tactical belt, set the magnetic clamp against the steel plate, and punched the activation code into his wrist detonator.
BOOM.
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The blast echoed like thunder across the river, blowing the heavy steel door inward in a shower of sparks and choking grey smoke.
As the air cleared, Aleandro drew his Sig Sauer and stepped over the smoking debris, descending a narrow, spiral iron staircase into the dark underground bunker below.
