Chapter 17 - Pier 44
|
The abandoned shipping yards of Pier 44 were a sprawling, rusted graveyard of maritime industry jutting out into the freezing, black waters of Lake Michigan. The rain had turned into a bitter, biting sleet that whipped aggressively across the desolate concrete.
I walked alone down the center aisle of the rusted shipping containers. The wind howled through the hollow metal structures, sounding like the screams of ghosts. I wore a heavy black trench coat, my hands shoved deep into the pockets, my fingers gripping the cold metal of the 9mm pistol Damian had given me.
My earpiece crackled faintly.
"I have eyes on the target area, mia regina," Damian’s voice whispered in my ear, a comforting, lethal anchor in the dark. He was positioned on a rusted crane tower three hundred yards away, peering through the thermal scope of a high-powered sniper rifle. "Two hostiles on the ground. Target Bennett is holding the civilian. Move exactly to the yellow marker we discussed."
I took a deep breath, stepping into the clearing at the end of the pier.
Tyler Bennett stood under the pale, flickering glow of a broken security light. He looked older, his face hardened by years of violence, but the cruel, arrogant smirk playing on his lips was exactly the same. He held a heavy revolver pressed tightly against the temple of a weeping, terrified Sarah, who was forced to her knees on the wet concrete.
"Look who finally decided to stop running," Tyler sneered, his voice echoing over the crashing waves. "You look good, Harper. Upgrading to a mafia boss really suits you."
"Let her go, Tyler," I said, my voice remarkably steady, stopping exactly on the yellow painted line Gabriel had marked earlier. "I have the drive."
I pulled the fake micro-SD card from my pocket, holding it up in the pale light.
"Toss it over," Tyler demanded, his eyes gleaming with greedy anticipation.
"Not until Sarah is walking away," I countered smoothly. "I know how this works, Tyler. I drop the drive, you shoot us both."
Tyler laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "You think you’re in a position to negotiate, bitch? You're standing on an open pier with no cover. I can drop you right now and take the drive off your corpse."
"If you shoot me," I replied coldly, staring the monster of my past dead in the eye, "the sniper currently aiming a .50 caliber armor-piercing round directly at the center of your forehead will paint this pier with your brains before my body even hits the ground."
Tyler froze, the arrogant smirk instantly vanishing. He darted a panicked look toward the dark crane towers looming in the distance.
May you like
"He’s bluffing!" Tyler shouted, pressing the gun harder against Sarah’s head. "Romano wouldn't risk hitting the hostage!"
"He isn't bluffing, Tyler," I whispered, a dark, terrifying smile finally touching my lips. "Drop the gun."
