Chapter 5 - The Battle at the Dry Docks
Marcus didn't hesitate. He walked over to a heavy wooden cabinet in the corner, unlocked it, and pulled out two tactical shotguns and several boxes of ammunition.
"There's a storm cellar behind the kitchen," Marcus said quickly, dropping a shotgun onto the table in front of Brier. "It leads out to the old shipping canal behind the dry docks. You take Posie and the USB drive, and you run for the Federal Building downtown."
"What about you?" Brier asked, her hands shaking as she looked at the weapon.
"I'm sixty-four years old, Brier," Marcus said with a cold, ruthless smile. "I've been waiting twelve years for a chance to finish my case against Salvatore Moretti. I'm not leaving this living room."
"No!" Posie cried from the sofa, clutching Brutus’s neck. "Mommy, don't leave him!"
CRASH!
The front bay window shattered into a thousand glittering shards as heavy gunfire ripped through the living room walls. Plaster exploded into dust, framing pictures fell and shattered, and bullets tore through the sofa where Posie had been sitting seconds before.
Brutus didn't flinch. He threw his massive body over Posie, shielding the child with his thick torso, taking the brunt of flying wood and drywall splinters.
"Go! NOW!" Marcus yelled, kneeling behind the oak dining table and firing two heavy shotgun blasts through the broken front window, dropping the first mobster stepping onto the porch.
Brier scooped Posie up, clutching the USB drive in her coat pocket. "Brutus, with me!"
They scrambled into the kitchen as the front of the house turned into a war zone of deafening gunfire and shattering glass. Brier threw open the heavy cellar door in the pantry, revealing a dark, damp brick tunnel leading downward into the earth.
Brutus went down first, his dark eyes scanning the subterranean gloom, his bloodied shoulder steady and resolute. Brier followed, carrying Posie down the narrow concrete steps, locking the heavy iron cellar door behind them just as heavy footsteps kicked through the kitchen door above.
The tunnel was freezing, dripping with stagnant river water. Brier sprinted through the darkness, guided only by the dim red glow of emergency exit markers installed decades ago.
After three hundred yards, the tunnel opened up into the cavernous, rusting interior of an abandoned dry dock warehouse on the edge of the river. Huge iron cranes hung like skeletal dinosaurs above long-empty concrete docks.
They reached the exit gate leading out to the public pier.
"Well, well. Look at the little family."
A harsh flashlight beam hit Brier directly in the eyes, blinding her.
Julian Vance stood near the exit gate, flanked by four heavily armed hitmen. He wore a slick yellow raincoat over his suit, holding a silver pistol equipped with a suppressor.
"My uncle always was a soft-hearted fool," Julian sneered, stepping forward. "He thought he could play hero one last time. Hand over the drive, Brier. And maybe I'll let the little cripple live to see a foster home."
Posie whimpered, hiding her face in Brier’s chest.
Brier felt a cold, sharp anger clear away all her fear. She looked down at Brutus, who was crouched so low to the ground his belly almost touched the wet concrete, every nerve ending in his massive body tuned to a razor's edge.
"He isn't a fool," Brier said quietly, her gray-blue eyes staring directly into Julian’s flashlight beam. "And you forgot one thing."
"Oh? And what's that?" Julian chuckled, raising his gun.
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"Everyone fears the Moretti family," Brier whispered. "Except him."
"BRUTUS! ATTACK!"
