Chapter 8 - The Siege of Pier 42The midnight air over Pier 42 smelled of salt water, diesel exhaust, and impending violence.
Vance’s black SUV smashed through the chain-link gates of the abandoned shipping yard, followed by three tactical transport vans. Before the vehicles had even come to a complete halt, heavy automatic gunfire erupted from the container stacks above.
Bullets pinged off the armored sides of the vehicles in a deafening storm of lead.
"Go! Go! Go!" Vance roared, kicking open his door and returning fire with brutal efficiency, dropping two snipers off the container roof before their bodies even hit the ground.
Josie rolled out of the passenger side, her heart hammering a wild, deafening rhythm against her ribs. Adrenaline flooded her veins, burning away every ounce of fear. She raised her Glock, remembering Vance’s exact instructions: Breathe. Sight. Squeeze.
Bang!
A Syndicate gunman lunged from behind a rusted shipping container, aiming right at Vance's blind spot. Josie fired. The bullet caught the hitman square in the shoulder, spinning him around and sending him crashing into the gravel.
Vance spun around, dropping the attacker with a final shot, then locked eyes with Josie through the smoke and crossfire. A fiercely proud, feral grin slashed across his scarred face.
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Suddenly, a massive spotlight blinded them both, and a voice boomed over a loudspeaker from the loading crane above.
"Well, well, well! The great Vance Thorne, brought down by a stray dog and a penniless nobody!" Dmitri Petrov’s voice echoed across the docks, cold and triumphant. "Drop your weapons, Vance, or I paint this pier with the girl's brains!"
