Chapter 5 - The Trap at the Docks"You bastard," I breathed, horror turning into a white-hot fury. "You used me."
"He didn't just use you, Miss Reed," Nathan said coldly, stepping in front of me, his body instantly shielding me from Vance’s weapon. "David Chen has been on Victor Benedetti’s payroll for eight months. He was the one who leaked the waterfront permit delays to the federal prosecutors."
David’s smile tightened, his arrogant posture faltering slightly under Nathan’s terrifying gaze. "It was business, Corsetti. Victor offered me five million dollars and a partnership at his firm in Miami. All I had to do was get close to your secretary and plant an encrypted tracking tap in her purse during lunch."
I instinctively looked down at my leather handbag hanging over my shoulder.
"The purse," I whispered, memories of lunch flashing through my mind. David taking my bag to make room for the wine glass. David setting it near his coat. "You put a tracker in my bag."
"That’s how Vance’s team traced us to 84th Street so quickly," Nathan realized, his voice dropping into a lethal, quiet growl.
"Drop your weapon, Corsetti!" Lorenzo Vance barked, stepping forward and cocking his pistol. "Victor is waiting for us at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. You and the girl are coming with us. If you try anything, I’ll put a bullet through her knees right now."
Nathan slowly lowered his pistol, setting it on the concrete floor near his feet. "You have the ledgers, Vance. You have the tracking data. Take David and leave. The girl stays with me."
"Not a chance," Vance sneered. "Victor wants you both. He wants you to watch while he signs the waterfront transfer documents using your blood."
Suddenly, a loud, ear-splitting metallic crash echoed from the alley overhead.
The heavy steel roll-up door of the service bay was violently smashed inward as a massive, silver armored utility truck crashed through the frame, sending concrete debris and twisted metal flying across the room.
"DOWN!" Nathan roared.
Before Vance or David could react, Nathan swept my legs out from under me, bringing us both hard to the concrete floor behind the wheel well of the matte-black sedan.
The side door of the utility truck burst open. Marco Rinaldi stood in the opening, wielding a heavy automatic tactical shotgun.
"CORSETTI CLEAR!" Marco screamed, unleashing a devastating hail of gunfire into the service bay.
Lorenzo Vance dove behind a concrete pillar, returning fire wildly, while David Chen shrieked in terror, dropping his briefcase and diving beneath the utility truck's frame.
Nathan didn't waste a second. He snatched his fallen pistol off the floor, leaned over the hood of the sedan, and fired two precise shots. The first round struck Vance's wrist, sending his weapon spinning across the floor; the second round caught Vance in the shoulder, dropping the enforcer hard onto his back.
"ALONG THE WALL, NATALIE! MOVE!" Nathan yelled, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the back of the utility truck.
Marco provided continuous covering fire as Alessio leaped out from the driver’s seat, grabbing the fallen silver briefcase off the floor and kicking Lorenzo Vance’s weapon into the drain pit.
"Get in! Get in!" Marco shouted, dragging us up into the interior of the heavy truck.
Nathan threw me inside first, leaping in right behind me before slamming the heavy rear doors shut. Alessio threw the truck into reverse, tires screaming against the slick concrete, and blasted backward out of the ruined service bay into the dark alleyway.
I collapsed onto the bench seat of the truck, panting heavily, my hands covered in dark grease and concrete dust. Nathan slid onto the seat beside me, pulling me hard against his chest, his arms wrapping around me like steel bands.
"Are you hit? Natalie, look at me, are you hit?" he demanded frantically, his hands moving over my arms, my shoulders, my face, checking every inch of me for blood.
"I'm okay... I'm okay," I sobbed, wrapping my arms around his neck, burying my face into his shoulder. "Nathan, I'm okay."
Nathan let out a long, shuddering breath, burying his face in my hair, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. "God... thank God..."
"Where to, boss?" Marco called out from the front passenger seat, reloading his shotgun as the truck tore through the midnight streets of Manhattan toward the river.
Nathan pulled back slightly, his eyes cold, clear, and glowing with an absolute, terrifying resolve.
"Victor Benedetti is waiting at the Brooklyn Navy Yard," Nathan said quietly. "He thinks he caught me unprepared. He thinks he destroyed my home."
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Nathan reached down, picking up a heavy tactical rifle from the truck's equipment rack and sliding a fresh magazine into place with a sharp CLACK.
"We are going to Brooklyn," Nathan commanded. "And we are going to end this tonight."
