Chapter 6 - THE TRAP IS SETThe night sky over New York Harbor was thick with fog, heavy with the smell of saltwater and diesel exhaust. Pier 42 sat off the Industrial Parkway, a desolate stretch of decaying concrete and giant rusted shipping containers.
Inside a modified surveillance van parked two miles away, Veronica sat surrounded by six glowing monitors. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, mixing real-time atmospheric audio with pre-recorded ambient noise from the Starks estate.
Through the feed connected to Dante’s listening post, the sound of shattered glass, shouting men, and weeping children echoed seamlessly. To Dante Moretti, Rory Starks was currently in the middle of a massive internal mutiny at his home.
"Target is moving," Dominic’s voice cracked over Veronica’s earpiece. "Four black SUVs just turned onto the Pier 42 access road. Dante is in the second vehicle."
"Audio feed is locked," Veronica reported calmly. "He's monitoring the nursery tap right now. He thinks Rory is still at the estate, trying to calm his screaming daughters."
At the end of the pier, four black SUVs ground to a halt near a massive, unlit freight container labeled Aegis Shipping.
The doors flew open, and a dozen heavily armed men stepped out into the damp night air, their automatic rifles drawn. From the back of the second SUV stepped Dante Moretti himself—a tall, arrogant man in a tailored trench coat, holding a satellite receiver to his ear.
Dante chuckled into his radio as he listened to the faint, simulated sound of crying twins playing through his earpiece.
"The idiot is crying over his kids while I take his whole future," Dante sneered to his second-in-command. "Cut the locks on the container. Let's get these bonds loaded before his captains realize nobody is driving the ship."
Two men stepped forward with heavy bolt cutters, snapping the heavy steel padlock on the container doors. They pulled the big metal doors open with a sharp screech.
The interior was completely dark.
"Where are the crates?" Dante frowned, taking a step forward and shining a high-powered tactical flashlight into the dark void.
The beam of light illuminated a single object sitting in the center of the bare steel floor.
It was a brown, plush teddy bear with its chest ripped wide open.
Dante froze. His blood ran cold.
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From the darkness inside the container, a cold, unmistakable voice echoed through a hidden speaker:
"Looking for something, Dante?"
