Chapter 6 - The Fall of the Traps
A blinding white flash illuminated the entire pier, accompanied by a deafening BANG-CRACK that shattered the quiet of the harbor.
A flashbang grenade, dropped with surgical precision from the overhead crane by Jackson, exploded ten feet above the Maybach.
The four gunmen shrieked, dropping their weapons as the 170-decibel shockwave and two-million-candlepower flash blew out their vision and destroyed their inner-ear balance. They stumbled around the concrete floor like drunkards, clutching their bleeding ears.
Before the smoke could clear, three black-clad figures dropped from the shipping container stacks above.
Bull, Ramirez, and Jackson hit the ground with trained silence.
Bull slammed into the first gunman, seizing his shoulder and driving a hard knee into his ribs before sweeping his feet out from under him. Ramirez grabbed the second man’s weapon, performing a high-speed muzzle deflection and driving his tactical flashlight directly into the man's temple. Jackson executed a swift rear-choke hold on the third, taking him to the concrete in less than three seconds.
I didn't move toward the gunmen.
My eyes were locked onto Victor Vance.
When the flashbang went off, Vance had stumbled, dropping his silver cane, his expensive wool coat smeared with grease from the Maybach's door frame. He turned, terror finally replacing his arrogant composure, and reached into his coat for a small snub-nosed revolver.
I bridged the twenty-yard gap between us in under two seconds.
I caught his wrist mid-draw. I didn't twist it to break it; I simply squeezed his radial nerve cluster with my thumb until his hand went completely numb, forcing his fingers to open. The silver revolver clattered onto the wet concrete.
I grabbed Vance by his silk tie, shoving him hard against the side of his own Maybach.
The heavy steel frame groaned under the impact.
"What... what are you?!" Vance gasped, his face bright red, his eyes wide with absolute panic as he looked around at his four elite enforcers lying unconscious on the ground. "Where did you get these men?!"
"I told you, Vance," I growled, my face inches from his. "I spent fifteen years training Marines. These are my boys. And you just brought handguns to a war zone."
Bull walked over, tossing a heavy black duffel bag onto the hood of the Maybach. He unzipped it, revealing a massive stack of encrypted hard drives, ledger books, and satellite phones.
"Top," Bull said, grinning through his gray beard. "While you were talking to this suit, Jackson broke into his private office at the end of the pier. We found his primary offshore ledger, his bribery files on the local precinct captains, and the shipping manifests for his illegal weapons smuggling operation."
Vance’s face went from red to ghostly white. His lips trembled. "That... that's impossible. Those files are encrypted with military-grade security!"
"Yeah?" Ramirez stepped up, holding up a ruggedized military laptop. "Ramirez here was a cyber-warfare specialist before he joined Raiders, Vance. Your 'military-grade security' took him four minutes to crack."
I tightened my grip on Vance's silk tie, pulling him up onto his tiptoes.
"Here's how this works, Victor," I said, my voice cutting through the ocean wind like a serrated knife. "You are going to sign over every piece of evidence to the Federal Bureau of Investigation tonight. You are going to plead guilty to federal racketeering, weapons smuggling, and assault."
"And if I refuse?" Vance wheezed, trying to hold onto a shred of his pride. "If I refuse, my associates in Chicago will wipe your family off the map!"
I smiled. It was the same smile I had given Dustin in the gym.
"If you refuse," I whispered into his ear, "I won't hand these files to the FBI. I will broadcast your ledger to your rivals in Chicago, New York, and Miami. They will know that you kept records of every dollar you stole from them. And you know better than I do what organized crime bosses do to men who keep secret ledgers."
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Vance stared at me, his lungs working like bellows, his arrogance completely shattered into dust. He realized that prison was the only place on earth where he would be safe from the men he had betrayed.
"I'll sign," he whimpered, his head slumping forward against the glass of his car. "I'll sign whatever you want."
