I married a lonely elderly woman for her money and a roof over my head. But after her funeral, her attorney gave me a box and said, “She told me this is what you truly wanted.”

The duffel bag didn't just have bearer bonds in it.

When I was in the vault, I noticed something hidden beneath the false bottom of the lockbox. Eleanor had left a brick of military-grade C4 and a blasting cap. She knew this was going to be a bloodbath.

BOOM.

The explosion was deafening. The canvas bag erupted in a blinding flash of fire and shredded paper, blowing the Volkov boss and the two guards backward into the freezing bay.

The shockwave knocked the remaining guards off their feet.

I scrambled up, pulling my Glock, and fired two shots into the lawyer's leg before he could raise his weapon. He screamed, collapsing onto the concrete.

I sprinted to Sarah, slicing her restraints with a pocketknife.

"Julian!" she sobbed, clinging to me. "What is happening?!"

"I'm getting us out of here," I promised, pulling her behind a steel container just as the remaining Volkov guards opened fire, pinning us down.

We were outgunned. The explosion had taken out their leader, but the foot soldiers were furious.

Suddenly, the screech of tires pierced the gunfight. A massive black SUV smashed through the chain-link fence of the pier, hitting one of the guards head-on.