Chapter 7 - The Trap at the Docks
Within twenty minutes, the logistics compound was a hive of silent, lethal activity.
Three black SUVs rolled out of the subterranean garage, their headlights off as they cut through the rain-slicked industrial avenues toward the North Avenue shipping docks. Inside the lead vehicle, Salvatore sat in silence, his fingers tapping a rhythmic, staccato beat against the leather armrest.
Tessa sat beside him in the back seat. She hadn't been given a choice about coming along; once she unraveled the security breach, she was officially part of the operational unit. Sterling rode in the passenger seat, checking the clips of his suppressed tactical pistol with quiet, methodical efficiency.
“We hit them before they can transmit the decrypted files to the federal task force,” Sterling murmured, turning back to look at Salvatore. “Clean sweep. No alarms.”
Salvatore nodded once. He turned his gaze to Tessa, his grey eyes searching her face in the dashboard light. He reached out and tapped her knee to get her attention, then raised his hands to sign:
Are you afraid?
Tessa looked back at him, her pulse racing, but her mind remarkably clear. She shook her head slowly, her fingers moving in response:
I spent six years translating arguments between angry doctors and terrified families in emergency rooms. A bunch of corrupt dock workers with stolen flash drives don't scare me.
A rare, approving smile touched Salvatore’s lips. He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a small, heavy titanium-cased encrypted drive, and slipped it into her coat pocket.
If anything happens tonight, he signed, his fingers moving with absolute seriousness, this drive goes to my sister in Geneva. She will ensure your family is taken care of for the rest of your lives.
May you like
“Nothing is going to happen to us,” Tessa signed back, surprising even herself with the fierce confidence of her hands. “Because you’re going to run this operation better than they expect.”
The SUVs killed their engines a block away from the North Avenue docks, rolling silently into the shadows of a towering grain silo.
