Chapter 8 - Ambush at Pier 18
The docks were a labyrinth of rusted shipping containers and towering cranes, shrouded in a thick, freezing fog from Lake Michigan. Julian parked the SUV a block away.
“We go in quiet,” Julian instructed his four men. He turned to Clara. “Stay behind me. If the shooting starts, you drop to the ground and do not move.”
They crept through the fog, the smell of salt and diesel heavy in the air. As they rounded the corner of a massive cargo container, a floodlight snapped on, blinding them.
“Welcome, Moretti!” Victor Romanov’s voice echoed over a megaphone. “You’re late.”
Gunfire erupted from all sides. It was an ambush. Romanov’s men had the high ground on the catwalks. Julian tackled Clara to the wet pavement, covering her body with his own as bullets sparked against the metal containers around them.
“Boss, we’re pinned down!” one of Julian’s men shouted, firing blindly into the fog.
Julian’s mind raced. Vance had warned them. Romanov wasn't moving the girl; he was using her as bait to execute Julian and end the syndicate war once and for all.
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Julian pulled a flashbang from his tactical vest, pulled the pin, and hurled it over the container. A blinding flash and deafening boom stunned the shooters on the catwalk.
“Move!” Julian roared, grabbing Clara by the hand and dragging her toward an abandoned warehouse at the edge of the pier. They kicked the rotting door open and barricaded it, but they were trapped. Outside, the sounds of Romanov’s reinforcements pulling up echoed through the night.
