Chapter 8 - The Pier 4 Takedown
The wind off the Atlantic was freezing as Marcus’s car pulled into the abandoned warehouse at Pier 4. The headlights cut through the heavy mist, illuminating Leo Vance standing beside a rusted shipping container, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets.
Marcus and Sloan stepped out of the car, both dressed in expensive winter coats, looking like royalty visiting the slums. Sloan held a leather clutch containing the remaining twenty thousand dollars in unmarked bills.
"You did clean work, Leo," Marcus said, tossing the clutch onto the hood of his car. "The hospital hasn't released the official statement yet, but my lawyers are already drafting the insurance claim."
"There won't be an insurance claim, Marcus," a voice echoed from the rafters of the warehouse.
The massive industrial spotlights overhead suddenly slammed on, blinding the couple. From the shadows stepped twenty federal marshals, their weapons drawn, flanked by William Sterling and Leo Vance, who was now wearing a state police tactical vest.
Marcus backed away, his heel catching against the edge of the pier. "What... what is this? This is a setup! Leo, what did you do?"
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From behind William, Victoria stepped into the light. She was wearing her comfortable wool blanket, her hands resting proudly over her pregnant stomach, her eyes blazing with the heritage of a family that didn't break.
"The vitamins tasted bitter, Marcus," Victoria said, her voice carrying over the sound of the crashing waves below. "But your defeat is going to taste a lot worse."
