Chapter 22 - Pacific Crosswinds
The private jet touched down at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport under a heavy, slate-gray blanket of Pacific Northwest mist. The air smelled of wet pine, ozone, and salt water—a distinct, sharp fragrance that reminded me of my earliest days building the Mercer shipping fleet from a single rusted tugboat.
My head of security, a veteran operative named Miller who had served with me through the roughest turf wars on the New York piers, met us at the private hangar doors with an armored convoy.
"Welcome to Seattle, boss," Miller said, handing me a heavy leather folder as we slid into the back of the SUV. "Meridian Logistics operates out of Pier 42. Officially, they handle automated container sorting. Unofficially, local dock unions have been whispering about unscheduled midnight cargo transfers that bypass federal customs inspections entirely."
"Just like Pier 17," I muttered, flipping open the folder. Photographs of sprawling container terminals, surveillance logs, and financial manifests flickered under the cabin lights.
Hannah sat across from me, her laptop glowing in the dim interior as she decrypted a local harbor patrol feed. "The port authority here is deeply compromised, Grant. The director of customs for this district, a man named Arthur Vance—any relation to Marcus Vance in Zurich?"
"A cousin, most likely," I said coldly. "The global elite keep their corruption strictly within family bloodlines."
"Well, Arthur Vance has authorized exclusive berthing rights for Meridian vessels without standard manifest declarations," Hannah continued, her fingers flying across the keyboard. "If they’re moving the same synthetic neurotoxin components or illegal arms that Apex was funneling through New York, Pier 42 is their primary distribution hub on the West Coast."
May you like
As the convoy sliced through the damp, glittering streets of the Seattle waterfront, I looked out the window at the towering cranes silhouetted against the gray fog. For five years, I had been told my world was confined to the darkness behind my own eyelids. Now, as the city rushed past my unblinking eyes, I realized that darkness was nothing more than a cage built by cowards who feared what I would do if I ever opened my eyes.
We weren't just going to dismantle Meridian Logistics. We were going to burn their operation down to the pilings.
