Chapter 12 - Terminal 4

Berto’s body went completely rigid, the playful warmth in his eyes vanishing into the arctic cold of a mafia Don in seconds. "Talk to me, Vincenzo. What kind of problem?"
"A container ship docked forty minutes ago from Palermo," Vincenzo panted, keeping his eyes nervously darting toward Anna. "It wasn't on our manifest. The port authority cleared it automatically because the transponder spoofed our legacy security codes—the old ones, Berto. The ones only the inner circle knew before we locked the system down."
Anna’s breath hitched. "Someone used the legacy bypass? But we changed the encryption protocols after the Moretti takedown."
"Not all of them," Berto murmured darkly, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched in his temple. He walked over to a hidden wall panel behind his desk, sliding it open to reveal a biometric safe. He punched in a code and pulled out a heavy-caliber sidearm, checking the chamber with practiced, fluid efficiency.
"Berto, wait," Anna stepped forward, her voice dropping into a warning tone. "If the federal audit team arrives in two hours and finds you engaging in an unsanctioned shootout at the docks, every single piece of legitimacy we built will crumble. They’ll revoke our corporate charter before noon."
"If I don't intercept whatever just came off that ship, there won't be a company left to audit," Berto snapped back, slipping the weapon into his shoulder holster and adjusting his jacket over it. "Vincenzo, lock down the building. No one in, no one out. Anna, stay here."
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"Like hell I'm staying here," Anna shot back, grabbing her blazer from the back of her chair. "I'm the chief operations officer of this company, which means unauthorized cargo is quite literally my job description. I'm coming with you."
Berto stared at her for a fraction of a second, ready to argue, before recognizing the stubborn glare in her eyes. He gave a sharp, reluctant nod. "Fine. But stay behind me. Always."