Chapter 25 - The Harbor Trap
The Palermo harbor was a maze of rusted shipping containers, towering cranes, and rhythmic waves crashing against concrete docks under a moonless sky. Salvatore’s tactical team had quietly surrounded the perimeter hours before midnight, slipping through the shadows like ghosts.
I crouched behind a towering stack of steel cargo containers alongside Dominic, my hand resting on the canvas duffel bag packed with emergency trauma gear and a heavy-duty tactical radio.
“You shouldn't be here, Nora,” Dominic whispered for the tenth time, checking the magazine of his submachine gun in the dim amber light of the docks. “This isn't an emergency room. This is a war zone.”
“And you have a habit of getting shot in the shoulder whenever I’m not within arm’s reach,” I retorted quietly, adjusting the strap of my medical bag. “Rule three: whatever you tell me to do, I do it. But my medical oath says I stay where the casualties are likely to happen. Now focus on the target cargo ship.”
Out on Berth 4, a massive container vessel bearing flagless markings had just dropped its anchor. Gangplanks lowered, and men in dark tactical gear began offloading heavy wooden crates marked as medical supplies—the exact cover Isabella had described.
“Move in,” Dominic spoke softly into his encrypted comms unit.
In a fraction of a second, the docks erupted. Salvatore’s men swarmed from the shadows, cutting off the smugglers’ retreat routes with suppressive fire that cracked sharply across the water. The Corsican operatives scrambled, returning fire with frantic, uncoordinated bursts of automatic weaponry.
Dominic moved through the crossfire with ruthless, terrifying efficiency, neutralizing threats before they could raise their rifles. I stayed close behind him, a tactical shadow ready to patch up any miscalculation.
Suddenly, a hidden gunman perched atop a crane tower raised a rifle directly at Dominic’s unprotected back.
My heart leaped into my throat. I didn't think. I lunged forward, grabbing a heavy, steel-handled crowbar leaning against a nearby crate, and hurled it upward with all the strength I had, catching the sniper squarely in the ribs just as he pulled the trigger.
The bullet whizzed past Dominic’s ear, embedding itself harmlessly into a wooden crate, while the sniper tumbled off the crane platform with a muffled yell.
Dominic whipped around, his gun raised, but the threat was already neutralized. He stared down at the fallen sniper, then back at me, his dark eyes wide with a mix of fury and fierce, absolute devotion.
May you like
“You are entirely insane, Dr. Hayes,” he breathed, stepping close and pulling me behind a concrete barrier.
“I told you,” I panted, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I’m your worst medical liability.”
