Chapter 5 - The Last Stand at the Waterfront
Fifteen minutes later, a armored SUV tore through the dark, rain-slicked streets toward the East River docks.
The rain was coming down in heavy sheets, thunder rattling the windows of the vehicle. Adrian sat in the passenger seat, loading a high-capacity magazine into his sidearm, while Julian drove at breakneck speeds.
I sat in the back, checking the live security feed on my tablet.
"It's Marcus," I said, pointing at the grainy infrared camera feed on the screen. "He posted bail forty minutes ago. Victoria Sterling’s family foundation put up the money."
"Victoria," Adrian growled, his jaw clenching. "She's trying to burn the physical land deeds before the court records are officially certified tomorrow morning. If the original paper deeds burn, the property ownership reverts to the city port authority."
"And without the Waterfront property," I realized, "our entire fifty-one percent stake becomes worthless."
"Julian, step on it!" Adrian ordered.
The SUV slid to a halt inside the dark, rusted gates of the Waterfront Development site. The massive three-story concrete warehouse sat near the edge of the rushing, dark river, illuminated only by the occasional flash of lightning.
"Stay in the car, Evelyn," Adrian said, checking his weapon.
"Like hell I will," I pulled a small, heavy silver flashlight and a stun device from the glove box. "I know the layout of this warehouse better than anyone. Marcus placed the primary safe on the third floor behind the structural support beams."
Adrian looked at me, a mixture of exasperation and intense admiration in his eyes. He grabbed my hand, giving it a hard squeeze. "Stay behind me."
We kicked open the heavy metal side door of the warehouse. The air inside smelled of damp concrete, old iron, and... gasoline.
"He's poured fuel," I whispered, sniffing the air. "He's planning on burning the whole building."
"Search the third floor!" a voice yelled from the shadows above us.
Flashlight beams cut through the darkness on the upper steel gantries. Marcus was standing near the central vault, a red fuel can in his hand, his clothes disheveled, his eyes wild with manic desperation. Beside him stood two armed men hired from a private security firm.
"Marcus!" I shouted, stepping into the open bay under the beam of my flashlight. "Stop! It's over! The police are ten minutes away!"
Marcus looked down from the railing, letting out a crazed, hysterical laugh. "Evelyn! You dirty little rat! You thought you could give away our family legacy to this ghost?!"
Adrian stepped into the light beside me, his gun raised, locked onto Marcus’s chest. "Drop the match, Marcus. You're already looking at twenty years for fraud. Don't make it a murder charge."
"I have nothing left!" Marcus screamed, his voice cracking against the steel rafters. "The bank took my house! My friends won't take my calls! Victoria promised me five hundred thousand dollars in offshore cash if I turn this place into ash!"
"Victoria is using you!" I yelled, taking a step toward the steel stairs. "The moment this place burns, she'll leave you to take the fall for arson! Look at her history, Marcus! She abandons everyone when things go wrong!"
Marcus hesitated, the fuel can swinging loosely in his hand. His eyes flickered with genuine doubt for a second.
"Shoot them!" a voice barked from the shadows behind Marcus.
It was Victoria Sterling herself, wearing a heavy raincoat, stepping out from the vault room holding a silver lighter. "Don't listen to her, Marcus! Burn it now!"
Victoria struck the lighter.
"No!" Adrian roared.
Everything happened in a fraction of a second.
Adrian fired two rapid shots at the steel beam near Victoria, the loud reports echoing like cannon fire inside the enclosed space. Sparks exploded near her face, making her scream and drop the lighter onto the fuel-soaked concrete floor.
A roaring wall of fire erupted instantly along the third-floor gantry!
"Evelyn, move!" Adrian yelled, grabbing my coat and shoving me back as one of the hired guards opened fire from above.
Bullets struck the concrete floor near our feet, sending stone splinters flying. Adrian returned fire, hitting the first guard in the shoulder, sending him tumbling over the steel railing into the dark river water below.
The fire spread with terrifying speed, black smoke billowing into the ceiling, cutting off the main exit staircase.
"The secondary elevator shaft!" I shouted over the roar of the flames, pointing toward the rear of the warehouse. "It leads to the roof access!"
We sprinted through the blinding smoke and heat, heat searing my face. We reached the third-floor gantry just as Marcus was trying to drag a heavy steel box—containing the original deeds—toward the roof door.
"Leave it, Marcus!" I screamed, coughing violently from the thick smoke. "The roof is collapsing!"
Marcus turned, his face covered in black soot, pulling a knife from his belt. "I'd rather die here than let you have it!"
He lunged at me with the blade.
Before the knife could touch my clothes, Adrian stepped in front of me, grabbing Marcus’s wrist with his left hand, twisting it back until the bone snapped with a sickening CRACK. Marcus shrieked, dropping the knife. Adrian followed up with a brutal right hook that lifted Marcus off his feet, sending him crashing unconscious into the steel wall.
Adrian grabbed the steel deed box with one hand and wrapped his other arm securely around my waist.
"Victoria!" I yelled, looking back through the roaring flames.
Victoria was trapped against the corner railing, weeping hysterically as the fire encircled her, her expensive raincoat melting from the intense heat.
Adrian looked at her, his eyes cold, remembering ten years of bitterness. But then he looked at me. He saw the plea in my eyes.
Adrian cursed under his breath, grabbed a heavy fire extinguisher from the wall, broke the pin, and blasted a path through the wall of fire. He reached out, grabbed Victoria by her hood, and dragged her screaming toward the roof door.
"Move! All of you! Out!" Adrian roared.
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We burst through the heavy steel roof door into the cold, pouring rain just as the warehouse roof below us caved in with a deafening crash, sending a giant plume of orange sparks into the stormy night sky.
In the distance, the wailing sirens of twenty police cars and fire engines cut through the thunder.
