Chapter 15 - The Ambush at Pier 42
We knew Torrisi wouldn't wait for Friday's Commission meeting if he thought we held the original deeds. Desperation makes even seasoned wolves sloppy.
At two o'clock the following morning, the silent alarm on Pier 42 tripped.
I was already awake in the control room, monitoring the live security feeds. Three black SUVs had breached the secondary gate, bypassing the electronic barriers with an old master code that should have been decommissioned years ago.
"They're after the physical registry kept in the harbor master's vault," I said into the radio headset, watching the armed men spill out into the freezing fog of Lake Michigan.
"I’m already in position," Luca’s voice crackled through the earpiece, steady and deadly cold. "Elena, do you have visual on Torrisi?"
"Negative on Torrisi," I replied, zooming in with the high-magnification thermal cameras. "He sent his lieutenants... and Vanessa’s cousin, Leo Bellini."
"Lock down the sector," Luca ordered. "Do not leave the estate."
"Luca, wait!" I leaned closer to the monitor. "Look at the cargo container behind their second SUV. It’s marked with commercial explosives. They aren't trying to steal the registry. They’re going to burn the entire terminal to the ground to destroy our legal chain of custody!"
Before Luca could respond, gunfire erupted over the audio feed.
The sharp crack of assault rifles shattered the lakefront silence. Through the thermal monitors, I watched Luca’s personal security unit flank the perimeter, trapping Torrisi's men against the concrete seawall. But one man—Leo Bellini—was sprinting toward the fuel reserves with a detonator in hand.
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I didn't think. I grabbed my coat, the Glock 19 from the safe, and ran down the back stairs. The estate’s reinforced SUV was idling in the motor pool.
Ten minutes later, I roared through the broken gates of Pier 42.
