Chapter 7 - THE RECKONING AT PIER 21"Kill him!" Thorne screamed, panic fracturing his voice as he whipped his revolver out of his coat and pointed it straight at Leo’s chest. "Marco! Shoot him!"
Marco pulled his own weapon with trembling, sweat-slicked fingers, aiming blindly at the old man standing under the halogen light.
Leo didn't flinch. He didn't even raise his hands. He simply looked at Rocco.
The German Shepherd didn't bark. He didn't issue a warning.
He exploded into motion.
Rocco was a blur of black muscle and furious kinetic energy. Before Marco could even pull the trigger, Rocco hit him square in the chest with the force of a battering ram. Marco’s gun discharged wildly into the concrete ceiling in a blinding flash of orange sparks before he slammed backward onto the floor, the wind knocked completely out of his lungs as Rocco’s heavy jaws clamped firmly around his wrist, pinning the weapon to the ground.
Thorne gasped, his hand shaking violently as he tried to adjust his aim from Leo to the dog charging toward him.
BANG.
Thorne fired. The bullet tore through the air, grazing the sleeve of Leo’s coat and shattering a window behind him.
Before Thorne could squeeze the trigger a second time, Leo closed the distance with shocking, predatory speed. A heavy, calloused hand lashed out like a striking viper, wrapping around Thorne’s wrist and twisting it upward with bone-crushing force.
A sharp crack echoed through the warehouse as Thorne’s wrist fractured.
Thorne screamed, dropping the gun with a metallic clatter. Before he could fall, Leo grabbed him by the lapels of his expensive overcoat and slammed him hard against the damp concrete pillar behind them.
The impact knocked the breath out of Thorne, his eyes rolling back in shock as Leo’s face hovered inches from his own.
"You thought you could step into my house while I was away," Leo whispered, his voice dangerously low, vibrating with lethal intent. "You thought the throne was empty just because I decided I didn't want to sit on it anymore."
"P-please," Thorne choked out, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, his fingers clawing uselessly at Leo’s iron grip. "I didn't... I didn't mean..."
"You meant to survive," Leo said coldly. "And that was your first mistake."
Leo didn't strike him again. Instead, he slowly let go, letting Thorne slide down the concrete pillar into a pathetic heap in the dirt.
Rocco trotted over, standing guard over Marco, who was curled into a fetal position, sobbing in sheer terror as the dog’s amber eyes locked onto him with unblinking vigilance.
Leo reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a satellite phone, and pressed a single pre-programmed speed-dial button.
The phone rang twice before a familiar voice answered on the other end, warm and steady against the background sound of tropical waves.
"Leo? It's midnight down here. Everything okay?"
"Everything is fine, Johnny," Leo said, his eyes fixed on the two trembling criminals cowering in the dirt. "Just finishing up some old paperwork."
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On the other end of the line, Jonathan Carr sighed softly. "You couldn't just leave it alone, could you?"
"Some books," Leo replied quietly, a faint ghost of a smile touching his lips, "deserve a proper ending."
