Chapter 12 - PIER NINETEEN
Victor Hale did not expect police.
He expected Dante Romano.
Angry.
Armed.
Alone.
That was the man Victor understood.
Instead, unmarked vehicles blocked both exits to Pier Nineteen.
Detective Cole sat beside Dante in the lead SUV.
“You stay in the vehicle.”
Dante looked at her.
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“You need me.”
“For what?”
“He won’t talk to you.”
“We don’t need him to talk.”
“You need to know where he keeps the backup files.”
Cole frowned.
Dante pointed toward the warehouse.
“He’ll burn everything the second he realizes Javier betrayed him.”
She keyed her radio.
“Fire team, rear access.”
Then she looked back at Dante.
“You walk beside me. You do exactly what I say.”
“Sure.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Smart.”
They entered the warehouse.
Rows of shipping containers formed narrow metal corridors.
Rain hammered the roof.
Agents spread out.
Dante heard an engine.
“Generator.”
Cole nodded.
“East side.”
Then Victor’s voice came over a speaker.
“Dante.”
Dante smiled without humor.
“There he is.”
“Did you bring your son?”
Dante’s face hardened.
Cole motioned to keep moving.
Victor continued.
“I’m disappointed. I thought we understood each other.”
Dante shouted, “I understand you fine.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You’re a man who spent twenty years building a throne, and now one frightened child made you ashamed to sit on it.”
Dante kept walking.
Victor laughed through the speakers.
“Beautiful.”
Dante stopped.
Cole whispered, “Move.”
“No.”
He looked upward.
Security camera.
Victor was watching.
“You’re right,” Dante called.
Cole stared at him.
Victor went silent.
Dante continued.
“I wanted people afraid of me.”
His voice echoed through the warehouse.
“I thought fear meant respect.”
No answer.
“I thought money meant safety. I thought having fifty armed men around my house meant my family couldn’t be touched.”
He looked at the camera.
“My wife died because of the life I built.”
Victor’s voice returned.
“Your wife died because she was naive.”
“No.”
Dante shook his head.
“She died because men like us think everybody else should pay for what we want.”
Silence.
Then Victor said, “You sound weak.”
Dante smiled.
“My eight-year-old got kidnapped twice this week and still had enough nerve to call me out.”
He moved closer to the camera.
“You don’t scare me anymore.”
A door slammed.
Gunfire erupted from the east side.
“CONTACT!”
Cole pulled Dante behind a container.
Agents returned fire.
Smoke filled the aisle.
Victor’s men retreated.
A forklift roared through the warehouse.
Dante saw Victor driving it toward a row of drums.
“MOVE!”
The forklift smashed the drums.
Fuel spilled.
Victor threw something.
Flame.
The floor erupted.
Cole shouted into her radio.
“Fire! Fire!”
Dante ran through smoke.
“Where are you going?”
“The records!”
“Dante!”
He found Victor near the rear office.
Victor held a pistol.
Dante was unarmed.
Victor smiled.
“This is better.”
He aimed.
Dante raised his hands.
“You shoot me, you prove everything Leo thinks about men like us.”
Victor laughed.
“I don’t care what your kid thinks.”
“That’s the difference.”
Victor fired.
Dante moved.
The bullet grazed his arm.
He crashed into Victor.
They hit the floor.
Victor punched him.
Dante slammed his head into a desk.
The gun slid away.
Both men reached.
Dante got there first.
He pointed it at Victor’s face.
Victor smiled through blood.
“There he is.”
Dante breathed hard.
“Do it.”
Dante’s finger touched the trigger.
“Come on.”
Victor laughed.
“Show your son what you are.”
Dante stared at him.
Then lowered the gun.
Victor’s smile vanished.
Dante stepped back.
“You don’t get to decide that anymore.”
Detective Cole entered with two agents.
“Victor Hale, hands where I can see them!”
Victor stared at Dante.
For the first time, he looked defeated.
Agents cuffed him.
Cole looked around.
“The records?”
Dante pointed toward a steel office.
“Fire safe.”
They opened it.
Files.
Ledgers.
Drives.
Enough evidence to destroy Victor Hale’s operation.
Enough to expose Salvatore.
Enough to expose Dante.
Cole looked at him.
“You know what this means.”
Dante nodded.
“Yes.”
Outside, dawn was beginning to break.
Dante’s phone rang.
Marco.
Dante answered.
But the voice on the other end was Leo’s.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, buddy.”
“Did you kill him?”
Dante looked at Victor being pushed into a police car.
“No.”
Leo was silent.
Then:
“Good.”
Dante closed his eyes.
For some reason, that single word felt like the first clean thing he had done in twenty years.
Then Detective Cole stepped beside him.
“Dante Romano.”
He looked at her.
May you like
She held out a pair of handcuffs.
“You’re under arrest.”
