Chapter 5 - The War in the ShadowsThe aftermath of the Grand Regent Hotel bombing attempt sent shockwaves through the highest corridors of power in Illinois.
By midnight, the hotel was surrounded by three separate federal agencies: the FBI, the ATF, and the Department of Homeland Security. The media was kept three blocks away by heavily armed state troopers, but rumors were already flooding the news: Julian Vance’s wedding had turned into a bloodbath.
In the private executive office on the top floor of the Vance Building in downtown Chicago, Julian sat behind his heavy mahogany desk. He had changed into a dark turtleneck, but he hadn't slept.
Across from him sat Assistant United States Attorney Clara Mercer—a woman known for being the most ruthless prosecutor in the Midwest—and Staff Sergeant Nia Harrison, who was now wearing a clean set of civilian clothes Julian’s staff had purchased for her.
On the desk between them lay a heavy black tactical tablet containing the encrypted data extracted from Vivienne Sterling’s phone and Senator Arthur Sterling’s private server, which Julian’s hackers had breached within two hours of Tommy’s death.
“This is enough to freeze every asset Senator Sterling owns,” Clara Mercer said, flipping through the digital bank records showing three-million-dollar offshore transfers from a Colombian cartel account into Sterling’s re-election campaign. “He didn't just want you dead, Julian. He was using your syndicate to launder cartel money, and when you decided to go legitimate through this marriage, you became a liability to his whole operation.”
“I don't care about his campaign,” Julian said coldly. “I want him in a steel cage for the rest of his natural life. And I want Vivienne in the cell right next to him.”
“Vivienne has already offered to state’s evidence,” Mercer noted. “She’s terrified. She admits her father forced her into the arrangement, but she knew about the C-4 under the table. She thought she’d be dragged clear before the secondary timer hit zero.”
Julian looked over at Nia, who was quietly drinking a cup of black coffee by the window, watching the rain streak down the glass high above the city skyline.
“You’ve been very quiet, Sergeant Harrison,” Julian said.
Nia turned around, her hand resting in a sling supporting her injured arm. “I’m thinking about the Senator’s exit strategy.”
Mercer frowned. “His exit strategy? We have federal marshals surrounding his estate in Lake Forest right now. He’s trapped.”
“A man who imports military-grade C-4 into a high-security hotel through a syndicate network doesn't sit in his living room waiting for marshals,” Nia said, her tactical mind working two steps ahead of the prosecutor. “He has a contingency plan. Where are his primary shipping assets located, Mr. Vance?”
Julian’s eyes sharpened. “Port of Chicago. Pier 42. It’s where my company handles international heavy machinery cargo.”
“If he takes control of Pier 42 before the federal injunction goes through, he can board a panamanian-flagged container vessel and be in international waters before sunrise,” Nia explained, walking over to the desk and tapping the map displayed on the tablet. “And if I know anything about men like Senator Sterling, he won't leave his evidence behind. He’ll burn the pier.”
Julian stood up so fast his leather chair rolled back against the wall. “Pier 42 has fifty thousand gallons of diesel fuel stored in the secondary tanks. If that burns, half the south waterfront goes with it.”
Mercer grabbed her phone. “I’ll order the FBI SWAT team to redirect to Pier 42 immediately—”
“SWAT is thirty minutes away through storm traffic,” Julian interrupted, pulling a heavy tactical rifle from a hidden safe behind his wall painting. “My men can be there in eight.”
He looked at Nia. “Are you coming, Sergeant?”
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Nia looked at the rifle in his hands, then at her own slung arm. She pulled her arm out of the sling, testing the movement of her wrist. The pain was sharp, but manageable.
“You need someone who knows how to spot a secondary explosive grid, Mr. Vance,” Nia said simply. “Because if Sterling is planning to burn that pier, he didn't just bring matches.”
