Chapter 6 - Pier 42
Midnight.
Fog rolled thick across the harbor.
Cranes and shipping containers vanished into ghost shapes.
I walked the alley between steel containers.
Hands visible.
Cold wind.
Marcus was three hundred yards out.
Rifle scoped.
At the end of the pier, under a flickering light, three black SUVs.
Four armed men.
A wheelchair-bound old man.
Cold blue eyes.
A scar from ear to jaw.
Beside him, bound to a steel chair, duct tape over her mouth, bruises on her cheekbones—Sarah.
Her eyes met mine.
A stifled sob.
She shook her head.
Pleading.
"Richard Vance. Or should I say, the auditor." Victor's voice was smooth. Cold despite his age. "You've brought my life's work back to me."
"Let her go, Victor." I stopped twenty paces away. "You have her. You've terrorized my family. Take the drive. Let us walk."
Victor laughed. Dry. Raspy.
"You think this is about money? Your wife destroyed my life. Put my sons in prison. Stripped me of my legacy. I don't just want the drive, Richard. I want her to watch everything crumble."
He gestured.
A man stepped forward.
A silenced pistol.
Aimed at Sarah's forehead.
"Hand over the drive. Or she dies right now. And my men finish what they started with the children."
Blood ran cold.
May you like
"Marcus, NOW!"
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