Chapter 19 - The Trail to the Docks
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My pulse spiked, hammering against my ribs like a thunderclap.
I stared at the screen for two full minutes. Was it a trap set by the remaining remnants of Julian’s corporate syndicate? Or was my father truly waiting for me in the dark corners of the Manhattan waterfront?
I didn't call the police. I didn't call Sarah.
I pulled on a heavy black wool coat, tucked my father's silver thumb drive into my inner pocket, and grabbed the keys to my car.
At 11:45 PM, the Manhattan waterfront was shrouded in a thick, chilly river fog. Pier 42 was an abandoned industrial shipping dock, its rusted steel cranes looming over the dark water like prehistoric skeletons.
I parked my car two blocks away, walking the remaining distance on foot. The sound of my boots clicking against the damp pavement was the only noise in the desolate alleyways.
I pushed open the rusted corrugated door of Warehouse 7.
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Inside, the vast space was pitch-black, smelling of saltwater, diesel fuel, and old timber. A single spotlight hummed overhead, casting a narrow beam of yellow light onto the concrete floor fifty feet ahead.
"Dad?" I called out, my voice echoing into the vast, dark rafters. "Dad, I'm here!"
