Chapter 7 - Face to Face with the Past
Caleb Morrison stared at the circle of steel surrounding him. His breath came in ragged, wheezing gasps as he realized that every single layer of his meticulously planned coup had been dismantled before it even began.
""How?"" Caleb hissed, his eyes darting frantically between Vincent Romano and Arthur Bennett. ""The outside team was completely untraceable. They were using encrypted satellite relays!""
Vincent stepped into the bright perimeter light, an unlit cigar resting between his lips. ""You think you're the only one who knows how to hire mercenaries, Caleb? I financed the private military contractor you hired to supply your perimeter team. You spent six months plotting a mutiny using men whose paychecks were signed by my holding companies.""
Caleb’s face drained of all color. He looked like a man who had suddenly stepped off the edge of a cliff into an endless void.
""And you,"" Caleb snarled, glaring at Arthur with pure hatred. ""Sergeant Arthur Hayes. The boy scout who survived the fire. You should have stayed dead in Newark.""
Major took a menacing step forward, his chest rumbling with a low, bone-vibrating growl that rattled Caleb's teeth. The dog's left eye—surrounded by that thick, jagged battle scar—was locked onto Caleb's throat.
""You remember this dog, don't you?"" Arthur said, stepping forward until he was only five feet away, his rifle lowered to the ready. ""Three years ago, you were on the harbor authority payroll. You took a three-million-dollar bribe from a rival syndicate to plant C-4 charges in the sub-basement of Berth 42. You locked four federal agents inside that warehouse to burn alive.""
""It was business!"" Caleb screamed, his composure completely shattering under the crushing pressure. ""Romano was squeezing the ports dry! The other families offered me twenty percent of the Atlantic trade! Your task force was in the wrong place at the wrong time!""
""Major dragged me through an eight-hundred-degree firewall,"" Arthur continued, his voice deadly quiet, vibrating with the raw grief of the brothers he had lost that night. ""He took shrapnel across his face and fractured his spine dragging my body onto the pier before the roof collapsed. When the building exploded, he was blown into the river. You left him to drown. You left four good men to die for dirty money.""
Major let out a sharp, ear-splitting bark that made Caleb stumble backward against the iron fence.
""Kill me then!"" Caleb yelled hysterically, opening his coat to expose his chest. ""Go on, Romano! Shoot me! Let your pet dog tear my throat out! That’s how you operate, isn't it? Show the world what a monster you are!""
Vincent walked over, his face completely devoid of mercy. He looked at Caleb the way an exterminator looks at a cockroach.
""Death is too quick for a traitor who threatens a five-year-old child,"" Vincent said softly.
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Vincent raised his hand and signaled toward the driveway. A convoy of black federal SUVs, sirens flashing blue and red, roared through the gates, accompanied by unmarked tactical vans.
""You aren't dying tonight, Caleb,"" Vincent whispered into his ear. ""I handed the encrypted harbor ledger to the Department of Justice two hours ago—along with complete digital recordings of you and Senator Vance organizing the Berth 42 bombing. You are going to spend the next forty years inside a federal supermax solitary confinement cell. And every single day, you will remember that you were taken down by a retired gardener and a little girl in a pink car.""
