Chapter 14 - Shadow of the Union Mill
The wind off Lake Michigan howled through the shattered glass windows of the Old Union Steel Mill. The massive structure was a cathedral of decaying iron, rusted gantry cranes, and four-story drops into empty concrete basements.
I arrived at 11:45 PM. I wore a heavy tactical coat, two handguns concealed in shoulder holsters, and a wire harness strapped across my chest that transmitted live audio and location data directly to a secure cloud server Claire was monitoring three miles away in the motel.
"I'm inside the south entrance," I muttered into the tiny microphone hidden in my collar.
"I hear you, David," Claire's voice came through the tiny earpiece. "Signal is clear. Be careful. The thermal scan showed at least eight signatures inside the main assembly hall."
"Keep the engine running at the extraction point," I instructed. "If I don't check in every ten minutes, execute Protocol Zero."
"David... bring yourself back to me," she whispered. "Don't let him turn you back into Adrian."
"Adrian is the only one who can survive tonight, Claire," I said quietly, and clicked off the two-way comms.
I stepped into the vast central floor of the mill. My boots echoed against the frosted steel floor plates. The smell of cold grease, rust, and old fires hung heavy in the air.
"Punctual as ever, Adrian!"
The voice boomed from the upper catwalks, echoing off the iron rafters.
Floodlights suddenly snapped on, blinding me with harsh yellow light. I squinted through the glare, raising my hand slightly to shield my eyes.
Standing on the high catwalk forty feet above the floor was Dominic Thorne. Around him, posted along the iron railings, were six heavily armed mercenaries carrying short-barrel automatic rifles.
"Turn off the lights, Dominic," I said, my voice calm, flat, and devoid of fear. "You look worse in the daylight."
Dominic laughed—a dry, hacking sound that ended in a cough. "Still got that sharp tongue, don't you? Even when you're standing in an execution box."
"You killed Marcus Vance," I said, taking two slow steps toward the center of the hall, keeping my hands visible. "You have the mirror drive. What do you actually want, Dominic? You could have vanished with two million dollars."
"Money?!" Dominic shrieked, his voice echoing frantically through the rafters. He struck his scarred cheek with his palm. "Look at my face! Look at what you left me with! You took my life, my name, my syndicate, and then you walked away to play house in Michigan! You built a paradise out of my ashes!"
"I paid my debt to the world," I said coldly. "I built a life for my family."
"You don't get a happy ending, Adrian!" Dominic screamed, leaning over the iron railing. "Monsters like us don't get cherry blossoms and birdhouses! We die in the dark! And tonight, your family dies with you."
"They're far beyond your reach, Dominic," I said.
Dominic grinned—a grotesque, lopsided sneer. He pulled a silver remote control from his pocket.
"Are they?" Dominic whispered. "Did you really think Victor was off the grid, Adrian? Who do you think gave me Victor's address five years ago?"
My blood ran cold. The floor beneath my feet seemed to sway.
May you like
"Victor..." I breathed.
"Victor was broke," Dominic cackled. "He took my money three years ago! Right now, my men are closing in on that farm in Indiana. Your wife, your little boy Eli, your daughter Lily... they're being loaded into a van as we speak!"
