Chapter 8 - The Inner Circle Cleanse
The attack on the Bayside compound changed everything.
It proved that Victor Harlan wasn't going to negotiate, wasn't going to back down, and wasn't going to stop until every member of my syndicate—and everyone protecting little Elena—was lying in a shallow grave.
Which meant we had to strike first, strike hardest, and leave nothing standing.
Back in my study, the tactical map of the Brooklyn Navy Yard was lit by the harsh glare of desk lamps. Tony, Daniel, and I stood around the table, going over the infiltration routes for the final assault.
“Harlan has doubled security at the docks since we hit the meatpacking plant,” Tony reported, tapping a marker against Pier 14. “He’s got at least fifty armed men patrolling the container yards, plus automated surveillance drones sweeping the perimeter every ten minutes.”
“Fifty men is a Tuesday,” Daniel grinned, checking the clips of his assault rifle.
“It’s not just the men we have to worry about,” I said, tossing the list of corrupt federal officials onto the table. “Remember Deputy Chief Robert Vance? His office just issued an emergency federal warrant for my arrest, claiming my syndicate was responsible for the attack on the meatpacking plant. The system is trying to crush us from both sides.”
“Then we don’t give them time to execute the warrant,” a calm voice interrupted from the doorway.
We all turned.
Tomas Vasquez stood in the doorway of the study. He wasn't wearing his restaurant apron anymore. He wore a dark wool coat, his face hardened into an expression of cold, unyielding resolve. In his right hand, he held a heavy steel-framed Colt .45 pistol—an old service weapon from his days in the military before he immigrated to Queens and opened La Estrella.
“Tomas,” I said, surprised. “You should be with Rosa and Elena in the safe room.”
“Rosa is watching Elena sleep,” Tomas said, stepping into the light of the study. He laid the Colt .45 down on the table next to the tactical map. “Elena asked me a question before she drifted off an hour ago.”
I looked at him, my expression softening slightly. “What did she ask?”
“She asked if the bad men who put her in the box were still out there,” Tomas said, his voice trembling slightly with suppressed rage. “I told her no. I told her that you and your dog were going to make sure those bad men could never hurt a child ever again.”
Tomas looked up, meeting my eyes directly.
“I’m coming with you to the docks.”
May you like
Tony opened his mouth to object, but I raised a single hand, stopping him. I looked at Tomas—a grieving father who had almost lost his entire world to the greed of monsters—and saw a reflection of the same fire burning inside my own chest.
“Alright, Tomas,” I said quietly, sliding a spare tactical vest across the table toward him. “Let’s go home.”
