Chapter 8 - The Siege of Terminal 42
With Mercer removed from the board, Viktor Olin realized his trap was collapsing. But a cornered animal is always at its most dangerous.
At 11:00 PM that night, rain poured over the industrial expanse of Terminal 42 along the Chicago River. Heavy fog rolled off the black water, casting a ghost-like veil over stacks of rusted shipping containers.
Viktor Olin stood inside an abandoned crane operator station, surrounded by fifteen heavily armed mercenaries holding tactical rifles. He was a broad, scarred man with cold blue eyes and a gold tooth that glinted in the dim sodium lights.
"Where is the freighter?" Olin barked in a thick Russian accent into his radio. "We move the cargo tonight! Hayes cleared Mercer’s legal paper, but he doesn't have troops on the docks!"
"I wouldn't be so certain of that, Viktor," a voice spoke from the shadows below the crane platform.
Olin whipped around, drawing a high-caliber pistol from his shoulder holster. "Who's there?!"
From the thick fog stepped Alexander Hayes.
I was alone, wearing a long black coat against the rain, my hands resting calmly in my pockets. No body armor, no visible weapons, no tactical team surrounding me.
Olin laughed—a booming, menacing sound that echoed off the metal containers. "Alexander Hayes. You walk into my terminal alone? Have you lost your mind, old man?"
Fifteen laser sights snapped onto my chest, painting my black coat with red dots of light.
"You burned a warehouse that belonged to David Vance," I said, my voice carrying cleanly through the sound of the falling rain. "You threatened his wife. And you terrorized four little girls who did nothing to you."
"This is business, Hayes!" Olin spat. "This city is big enough for both of us, but you sit on the docks like a greedy dog! David Vance was weakness! His wife is weakness! And you are weak for protecting them!"
"You misunderstand my nature, Viktor," I replied softly, taking a single step forward. "I do not protect them because I am weak. I protect them because I am the only thing standing between men like you and total annihilation."
I raised my right hand and snapped my fingers twice.
From the dark waters of the river behind Olin’s crane, two tactical assault boats belonging to the Chicago Maritime Enforcement Division cut their engines and activated powerful spotlight banks, blinding Olin and his men with thousands of lumens of white light.
Simultaneously, from behind every container stack, forty heavily armed operatives from the Hayes Security Syndicate stepped into view, weapons raised, completely enveloping Olin’s squad in an inescapable crossfire.
Marcus’s voice echoed over a bullhorn: "Drop your weapons! State and federal tactical units have secured the perimeter! Drop your weapons now!"
Olin’s mercenaries looked around at the overwhelming force, realized they were completely outmatched, and began dropping their rifles onto the wet pavement one by one.
Olin stood alone on the platform, his pistol shaking in his hand, blinded by the spotlights. He looked down at me through the glare, his face twisted in absolute fury.
"You brought the law into our world, Hayes?!" Olin screamed. "You broke the code!"
"You broke the code the moment you targeted children, Viktor," I said, walking up the metal stairs of the crane until I stood two feet from him.
I reached out, grabbed the barrel of his pistol, twisted it effortlessly from his grip, and ejected the magazine into the river below.
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"Your containers are seized. Your syndicate is dismantled. Your life in this city is finished," I whispered into his ear. "If you ever mention the name Vance again, there is no prison in America that will keep you safe from me."
Olin dropped to his knees, his hands behind his head, defeated entirely without a single shot being fired.
