Chapter 13 - Pier 42
Pier 42 was a graveyard of rusting shipping containers and broken cranes.
Marcus parked a mile away, approaching the docks on foot through the blinding snow.
He used the massive steel containers as cover, moving silently like a phantom.
Up ahead, a massive cargo ship was moored against the icy concrete pier.
Floodlights illuminated a clearing where three black SUVs were parked in a circle.
Men with cartel tattoos were heavily armed, loading duffel bags into a speedboat.
Standing in the center of the chaos was Captain Richard Briggs, smoking a cigar.
He was laughing with a cartel boss, counting thick stacks of hundred-dollar bills.
Marcus scaled a rusted crane ladder, securing a sniper position fifty feet above the ground.
He pulled out his phone and set it to broadcast live to a secure server.
May you like
He linked the server directly to the FBI's public tip line and several news outlets.
"Smile for the camera, Captain," Marcus whispered to himself, adjusting his scope.
