Chapter 4 - The Harbor Raid
The rain was falling in relentless sheets over the desolate industrial docks of South Brooklyn. Ocean waves slammed against the rusting iron pilings, casting a cold mist over the abandoned shipping complex.
Three tactical tactical vans glided to a silent stop behind a row of rusted shipping containers.
Jack, wearing a bulletproof vest over his torn wedding tuxedo, stepped out into the pouring rain alongside Agent Miller and a dozen heavily armed SWAT officers. Emma had refused to stay behind at the estate, riding in the command vehicle despite her injuries, providing crucial layout details she had remembered from her brief captivity.
"The building on the east pier," Emma said through the comms headset from the command van. "It had an old neon sign for 'Midtown Cold Storage'. That’s where they took me first. Nora must be in the basement level near the old refrigeration units."
"Teams 1 and 2, move in," Agent Miller commanded quietly. "Non-lethal force if possible, but clear your angles."
The SWAT team breached the heavy side doors with a hydraulic ram. The sound of splintering metal was instantly swallowed by the sound of thunder shaking the sky.
Jack pushed inside right behind the lead officer, a flashlight mounted to his weapon cutting through the thick darkness and smell of diesel fuel.
"Clear left!" an officer shouted.
"Clear right!"
They swept down a narrow, damp staircase leading into the subterranean basement. The air grew freezing cold, heavy with moisture and rust.
At the far end of a long concrete corridor, a faint yellow light flickered beneath a heavy steel door.
Jack rushed ahead, throwing his weight against the iron bar locking the door from the outside. He shoved it open, his flashlight beam illuminating a grim room lined with rusted meat hooks.
Tied to a wooden chair in the center of the concrete floor was Nora Ellis. Her face was bruised, her hair soaked with sweat, but her eyes were fierce and wide open.
"Jack!" Nora choked out, coughing through a gag wrapped around her mouth.
"Nora!" Jack dropped to his knees, drawing a tactical knife to slice through the heavy zip-ties binding her wrists and ankles. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"
Nora pulled the gag from her mouth, weeping with relief as she collapsed forward into Jack's arms. "They... they wanted the drive, Jack! Vance said if I didn't give up Emma, he was going to throw me in the river!"
"It's over, Nora. We have the micro-SD card," Jack assured her, lifting her up gently. "Emma is safe. She’s outside in the command van."
Nora’s eyes widened in horror. "Jack, no! You have to get out of here! It’s a trap!"
Before Jack could react, the heavy steel door behind them slammed shut with a deafening bang. The electronic lock engaged from the outside with a heavy clack.
A raspy voice echoed through the room's old intercom system.
It was Marcus Vance.
"You're too late, young Mr. Mercer," Vance’s voice crackled through the speaker. "Your father might be soft enough to negotiate, but I have twenty million dollars sitting in an untraceable Panamanian account that gets frozen the moment Richard goes to trial. I can't let that happen."
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"Vance, the police have the building surrounded!" Jack yelled toward the speaker, shielding Nora behind him.
"Then we'll all go up together," Vance laughed maniacally. "The industrial charges on the support pillars were set thirty minutes ago. You have ninety seconds."
