Chapter 5 - Blood on the DocksThe rain had turned into a torrential downpour by the time our three black SUVs slid silently to a halt half a mile away from Pier 49. The wind whipped off the black waters of the harbor, carrying the sharp scent of salt, diesel, and decaying kelp.
I stepped out into the freezing rain, pulling the hood of my waterproof coat over my head. Behind me, ten of my most elite enforcers stepped out of the vehicles in absolute silence, clad in black tactical gear, their faces obscured by balaclavas.
No words were spoken. In our line of work, communication was instinctual.
"Marcus, take the eastern catwalk," I whispered, pointing through the driving rain toward the rusted iron structure of the grain silo. "Luca, take the loading dock ventilation shafts. If anyone tries to move Clara out through the back, cut them off."
"And you, Boss?" Marcus asked, checking the magazine of his rifle.
"I’m going through the front door," I said coldly. "Julian wants his ledger? I'm going to hand it to him personally."
We moved through the shadows like ghosts. The old grain silo loomed against the dark night sky like a skeletal monster, its corrugated iron walls rattling violently in the gale.
At the main entrance, two armed guards in heavy tactical vests stood under a flickering halogen light, smoking cigarettes and complaining about the weather.
They never saw us coming.
May you like
Before their cigarette butts hit the wet pavement, Marcus and I stepped from the gloom. Two muffled puffs from our suppressed barrels echoed softly against the rain, and both guards crumpled silently into the puddles.
We dragged their bodies out of sight, stripped away their radio communicators, and slipped inside through the heavy sliding steel door.
