Chapter 14 - The Ghost at the Docks
The old industrial docks on the edge of the city smelled of rusted iron, rotting kelp, and stale seawater. It was a sprawling labyrinth of rusted shipping containers, towering crane gantries, and decaying warehouses that had been abandoned by the port authority a decade ago. Perfect territory for an ambush.
My armored Mercedes pulled up behind a towering stack of green shipping containers, its headlights cut off, plunging us into absolute darkness save for the pale glow of the midnight moon breaking through thick, bruised clouds.
I stepped out of the vehicle alone, wearing a black tactical turtleneck and a heavy woolen overcoat. Beneath the coat, my shoulder holster held my Beretta, and a combat knife was strapped securely to my right calf.
"Boss, perimeter is locked down," Bruno’s voice whispered through my encrypted earpiece from three hundred meters away. "We have sniper overwatch on the gantry cranes. Three targets spotted moving toward Warehouse 4. They have the child."
"Hold your fire until I have visual on Sophie," I commanded softly, adjusting the earpiece. "Do not engage unless they make a move to harm her."
I walked slowly across the cracked asphalt, the gravel crunching softly beneath my leather boots. The wind whipped off the black water of the bay, carrying a bitter chill that cut straight through my coat.
As I approached the rusted corrugated metal doors of Warehouse 4, a sliver of yellow light cut through the gap at the base.
I pushed the heavy door open. It groaned on its rusted hinges, echoing loudly across the empty pier.
Inside, the cavernous warehouse was dimly lit by a single swinging overhead bulb. In the center of the concrete floor sat a wooden chair. Tied securely to it, with her hands bound behind her back and a strip of gray duct tape covering her mouth, was Elena.
Standing a few feet away, holding a small tactical knife pressed lightly against Sophie’s throat, was a tall man in a tailored charcoal suit. His face was scarred, a jagged white line running from his left ear down to his jawline.
"Adrien Moretti," the scarred man sneered, stepping closer to Sophie. The little girl’s eyes were wide with terror, tears streaming down her pale cheeks, though she bravely tried not to make a sound. "You actually came. I must admit, I underestimated your attachment to a maid's brat."
"Let the girl go," I said, my voice cutting through the damp air like a razor. "She has nothing to do with this."
"She has everything to do with this," the man laughed harshly. "She is Vincent Moretti’s blood. And the Zurich board wants her wiped off the chess board permanently."
"You don't have the ledger," I said, taking another slow step forward, keeping my hands visible at my sides. "You wanted it, but you don't have it. If you kill her, you'll never find it."
The scarred man hesitated for a split second, his grip on the knife tightening slightly against Sophie’s delicate neck. "The ledger is in your estate’s vault. We'll get it once you're dead."
"Try it," I whispered.
May you like
Before he could react, a deafening crack echoed through the cavernous warehouse.
The high-caliber round from Bruno’s sniper rifle tore through the corrugated metal roof above, shattering the overhead bulb and plunging the warehouse into pitch blackness.
