Chapter 4 - Midnight on the DocksPier 42 was a dark, industrial wasteland on the edge of Providence Harbor. Rusting shipping containers were stacked three stories high, casting long, ominous shadows across the wet asphalt. Rain poured down relentlessly, whipping against the corrugated metal walls of the central warehouse.
The three SUVs pulled up to the perimeter, their headlights cutting through the darkness.
Matthew stepped out first, followed by Goliath and me. Four of his security men formed a protective perimeter around us as we walked toward the open side door of the main warehouse.
Inside, the warehouse was dimly lit by suspended yellow floodlights. Standing in the center of the concrete floor was Julian Vance, surrounded by eight heavily armed mercenaries. Beside him sat a metal table bearing a thick leather briefcase and a contract.
"You're late, Matthew," Vance called out, his voice echoing loudly off the metal walls. "I was beginning to think you had lost your nerve."
Vance’s eyes shifted to me, a cruel sneer spreading across his face. "And you brought the waitress. How romantic. Did you bring her to sign as a witness to your surrender?"
"I brought her because she has something you've been looking for, Julian," Matthew said smoothly, walking toward the center of the room with unhurried, measured steps.
I stepped forward beside Matthew, pulling a small, sealed acrylic container from my pocket. Inside lay the jagged, deformed lead bullet I had removed from Goliath’s leg two years ago, still stained with dried tissue.
Vance’s smile faltered slightly. His eyes darted to the container, then to the dog standing at my hip.
"That's a cute piece of theater," Vance sneered, attempting to regain his composure. "A piece of lead from a dog fight. You think a county prosecutor is going to care about a stray animal when I control the district judge?"
"They won't care about the dog, Julian," I spoke up, my voice steady and loud enough to cut through the hum of the rain outside. "They will care about the ballistics match. Because this bullet wasn't fired from a street gun. It was fired from a custom German pistol with a micro-grooved barrel—specifically registered to Vance Holdings three years ago."
Vance’s face darkened. He gestured subtly to his men on the flanks. "Kill them," he ordered coldly. "All of them. Destroy the evidence."
Before Vance's mercenaries could raise their weapons, a sudden, deafening crash echoed from the roof of the warehouse.
The glass skylights above exploded inward as dozens of tactical law enforcement officers descended on ropes, flashbang grenades detonating in mid-air with blinding flashes and disorienting booms!
"FBI! Nobody move! Hands in the air!" heavy tactical voices screamed through the smoke.
Vance’s men panicked, dropping their weapons as state troopers and federal agents flooded the warehouse through every side entrance.
Vance backed away, drawing a hidden snub-nosed revolver from his jacket pocket, aiming it directly at my chest!
"If I'm going down, you little bitch, you're coming with me!" Vance roared!
"Holly, down!" Matthew yelled, lunging forward to throw his body in front of me.
At that exact second, Goliath let out a thunderous, terrifying roar that shook the very foundation of the room. The massive mastiff launched himself across the wet concrete like a lethal cannonball, closing the twenty-foot gap between Vance and us before Vance could squeeze the trigger!
Goliath’s jaws clamped tightly onto Vance’s forearm, twisting the man to the ground with devastating force! The gun skittered harmlessly across the concrete, stopping right at my boots.
Vance screamed in agony as Goliath pinned him to the floor, the massive dog standing over him, low growls vibrating through its chest, waiting for my command.
I stepped forward, looking down at the powerful cartel leader who had terrorized the city for a decade.
"Goliath, off," I said softly.
The dog instantly released Vance's arm, stepping back to my side, panting happily as if he had just retrieved a tennis ball.
Federal agents swarmed Vance, slapping heavy steel handcuffs onto his wrists and dragging him screaming from the building.
Matthew stood up, brushing off his jacket, his eyes fixed entirely on me.
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"You knew the FBI was outside," I said, catching my breath.
"I called them two hours ago," Matthew admitted, stepping closer to me. "I didn't bring you here to put you in danger, Holly. I brought you here so you could watch the man who threatened you lose everything."
