Chapter 17 - The Night Pier Seven Burned
Midnight arrived with freezing rain.
Julian’s SUV stopped beneath the skeletal cranes of Pier Seven.
The harbor smelled of diesel, salt, and wet steel.
I stepped out carrying the briefcase.
Julian followed.
Marcus remained twenty yards behind us with visible security.
Exactly what Vale expected.
A warehouse door opened.
Two armed men approached.
“Director comes alone.”
Julian laughed.
“No.”
One man raised his weapon.
Julian didn't move.
“If you point that thing at my wife again, you’ll regret surviving tonight.”
The man hesitated.
I touched Julian’s arm.
“Stay.”
His jaw locked.
We had rehearsed this.
That didn't mean he liked it.
I walked inside.
The warehouse was enormous.
Shipping containers formed narrow corridors beneath rusting gantries.
At the center sat Adrian Vale.
Allison was tied to a steel chair beside him.
Her eyes found mine immediately.
I lifted the briefcase.
“Release her.”
Vale smiled.
“You always were efficient.”
“You've never met me.”
“I’ve known you since you were twenty-one.”
That sent cold anger through me.
He gestured.
One guard opened the briefcase.
Three flash drives.
Vale inspected them.
“Passwords?”
“After Allison crosses that door.”
He nodded.
A guard cut her restraints.
Allison stood slowly.
Then Vale raised one finger.
She stopped.
“Password.”
“Release her.”
His smile disappeared.
“You are in no position to negotiate.”
I looked around.
Six guards visible.
Possibly more behind the containers.
Allison glanced toward me.
Then toward the ceiling.
I followed her eyes.
Sprinkler pipes.
Interesting.
“I think I am.”
Vale sighed.
“You inherited Robert’s arrogance.”
“No. I survived it.”
Then the warehouse lights died.
Allison dropped instantly.
I hit the floor.
Flash-bang grenades detonated from three directions.
Federal tactical officers poured through the loading bays.
Gunfire cracked.
Vale’s guards scattered.
Someone struck a fuel line.
Flames erupted beside a forklift.
Smoke rolled toward the ceiling.
I crawled toward Allison.
“Move!”
She grabbed my hand.
We ran behind a shipping container as bullets punched into steel.
“Were those drives fake?” she yelled.
“Obviously.”
“Good.”
A guard appeared around the corner.
Allison threw a metal wrench at his face.
He staggered.
Marcus tackled him from the side.
“Remind me never to underestimate either Campbell sister,” he shouted.
“We’re not Campbell sisters,” Allison yelled back.
Even during a gunfight, she remembered.
Another explosion shook the building.
Julian appeared through the smoke.
His suit jacket was gone.
His white shirt was streaked with soot.
He reached me and grabbed both sides of my face.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He kissed my forehead once.
Then looked at Allison.
“You?”
“I’ve had better weddings.”
Despite everything, I laughed.
Then we heard an engine.
Vale was escaping.
A side garage door rolled upward.
A black SUV accelerated toward the pier.
“Vale!” I shouted.
Federal vehicles pursued.
The SUV crashed through a security barrier, skidded on rain-slick pavement, and slammed into a stack of empty cargo pallets.
The driver stumbled out.
Not Vale.
A decoy.
Marcus swore.
“Where is he?”
Then Allison grabbed my arm.
“He said something earlier.”
“What?”
“He kept talking about ships. He said Boston was never his destination.”
I looked toward the harbor.
A small commercial vessel was moving away from Pier Nine without navigation lights.
Vale was aboard.
The Coast Guard intercepted eleven minutes later.
But when agents boarded, they found the captain unconscious.
Vale was gone.
Again.
Pier Seven burned until nearly dawn.
Allison sat wrapped in a blanket beside me while firefighters worked.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“Going alone.”
“That was incredibly stupid.”
“I know.”
“You could have died.”
“I know.”
I looked at her.
She looked different.
Not because of the bruises.
Because she finally understood consequences.
“I thought if I fixed this,” she said, “maybe I could become someone you could forgive.”
I took her hand.
“Allison, forgiveness isn't a prize you earn by getting kidnapped.”
She laughed weakly.
Then cried.
I let her lean against my shoulder.
May you like
I did not promise we would become sisters again.
But for the first time, I didn't pull away.
