Chapter 6 - The Building by the Water
Pier 19 was a trap.
Luca knew that before the car stopped.
He went anyway.
“You need to stay behind cover,” Marco said.
Luca checked his weapon.
“No.”
“Your shoulder is bleeding again.”
“I have another one.”
“That is the dumbest medical statement I’ve ever heard.”
“Dr. Bennett would agree.”
Marco grabbed his arm.
“Luca.”
Luca looked at him.
Marco’s anger disappeared.
“Emma needs you alive after tonight too.”
That landed.
Luca nodded once.
They entered through a service tunnel beneath the pier.
No lights.
Water dripped from rusted pipes.
Above them, footsteps crossed metal flooring.
Marco pointed left.
Two men moved ahead.
Luca went right.
His heart pounded too fast.
He forced himself to slow his breathing.
Not fear.
Control.
They reached a stairwell.
A small sound came from above.
A child humming.
Luca froze.
He knew that song.
Emma’s favorite.
He had heard it through dozens of surveillance videos.
He climbed.
A room waited at the top.
Empty except for Mr. Buttons sitting on a chair.
Luca picked up the bear.
Warm.
She had been there minutes earlier.
On the wall, written in black marker:
TOO SLOW, DADDY.
Luca stared at it.
Marco entered behind him.
“Damn it.”
Then gunfire cracked from outside.
Marco shoved Luca down.
Glass exploded.
Luca fired through the doorway.
A man fell behind a shipping crate.
Another ran.
Marco chased him.
Luca heard a car engine.
He looked through the broken window.
A black SUV tore away.
In the back seat—
a little face pressed against the glass.
Emma.
“EMMA!”
Her eyes found him.
For one second, father and daughter saw each other for the first time.
No photographs.
No blank drawings.
No distance.
Emma stared at him.
Luca ran.
The SUV accelerated.
Emma lifted one tiny hand to the window.
Then the vehicle disappeared.
Luca stood in the middle of the pier.
Breathing hard.
His chest tightened.
No.
Not now.
He pressed a hand against his sternum.
The world flickered.
Marco returned dragging a wounded gunman.
“Luca?”
“I’m fine.”
“You look like death.”
“I’m fine.”
He wasn’t.
His heartbeat stumbled.
Then slammed.
Then stumbled again.
Marco lowered the gunman.
“Sit down.”
“No.”
“Luca—”
The captured man laughed.
“You should listen.”
Luca turned.
The man’s hand was tattooed red from wrist to knuckles.
The man from Emma’s drawing.
Luca walked over.
“Where are they taking her?”
The man smiled.
“Go to hell.”
Luca crouched.
“You took my daughter.”
The smile weakened.
“You know who I am?”
“Everybody knows.”
“Then you know I’m asking nicely once.”
Silence.
Luca’s phone vibrated.
A text from Rachel’s number.
SOKOLOV DOESN’T WANT MONEY.
Another arrived.
HE WANTS YOU TO GIVE HIM THE RED HOOK TERMINAL.
Then:
IF YOU DO, HE SAYS WE LIVE.
Marco read the messages.
“That terminal moves almost forty percent of our imports.”
Luca stood.
“Then he can have it.”
Marco stared.
“Luca.”
“He can have everything.”
“You built that operation for fifteen years.”
Luca looked at him.
“I have known my daughter for three seconds.”
His voice cracked for the first time.
“And I would trade all fifteen years for three more.”
The red-handed gunman began laughing.
“You really don’t understand.”
Luca turned.
“What?”
“Sokolov doesn’t need the terminal.”
“Then what does he need?”
The man grinned.
“He needs you to sign it over.”
“Why?”
“Because the second you do, your own people are going to kill you for it.”
Luca went still.
The man leaned forward.
“Sokolov isn’t trying to win your territory.”
May you like
“He’s trying to make your family destroy itself.”
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