Chapter 12 - The Poisoned Toast
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Through a gap in the concrete barrier, I observed the tactical layout of the yard.
The attackers were using an exposed fuel storage rig as tactical cover while pinning our team down. Nearby sat an automated crane control console—a system I recognized immediately from reviewing Teresa’s port logistics files.
“Cover me!” I instructed my security chief.
“Miss Mitchell, stay down!” he protested frantically.
“Keep their attention focused on the front!” I demanded.
Crawling low beneath the heavy crossfire, I navigated behind a row of steel cargo crates until I reached the weather-sealed crane console. I punched in the master override code I had memorized from Teresa’s technical reports.
The massive overhead crane engine roared to life, its massive steel hook swinging wildly across the yard.
The sudden movement overhead distracted Victor’s shooters. The heavy steel hook slammed directly into the fuel rig, crushing the structure and sending two attackers flying across the pavement.
Before the remaining enforcers could reorient their weapons, the main gate exploded inward.
Alexander’s convoy smashed into the yard at lethal speed.
Joseph’s tactical team breached the vehicles, taking down the remaining shooters with lethal efficiency. Within ninety seconds, the gunfight was over, the heavy silence of the yard broken only by the hum of idling engines.
Alexander leaped from his SUV before it had even come to a complete stop.
He sprinted across the oil-stained concrete, his eyes wild with terror, searching frantically until his gaze landed on me.
He grabbed my shoulders, his hands shaking violently as he inspected me for injuries. “Are you hit? Gabriella, look at me!”
“I’m completely unhurt, Alexander,” I reassured him, my hands cupping his face. “I’m fine.”
He pulled me into a fierce, desperate embrace, burying his face in my neck, his entire body trembling with the weight of the terror he had just lived through.
“You operated the automated crane system?” Joseph asked in sheer disbelief, pointing up at the swinging steel hook.
I pulled back from Alexander, catching my breath. “I read the port facility manual in Teresa’s files.”
Alexander looked at the crushed fuel rig, then back at my face. A mixture of utter awe and profound relief washed over his features.
“You saved your own life,” he whispered in wonder.
“I used the information I fought to have access to,” I corrected him softly.
He nodded slowly, finally understanding the true value of treating me as an equal partner rather than a protected prisoner.
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“Joseph,” Alexander commanded, his voice turning to ice. “Gather the survivors. It is time to deliver the final evidence to Victor’s governing council.”
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