Chapter 10 - The Viper's Last Strike
The freezing chemical smoke cleared from the Union League Club as sirens wailed in the streets outside.
Jarro did not waste a single second barking useless orders at the local police.
He bundled me into the reinforced Maybach, Dante taking the wheel and accelerating through the snowy streets at breakneck speed.
“Silvio is heading directly to South Port Pier 42,” Jarro said, his fingers rapidly tapping out tactical orders on his military-grade terminal.
“He has twelve mercenary contractors holding the terminal operations tower.”
“If he blows the fuel storage tanks at Pier 42, half the shipping corridor goes up in flames, and forty million dollars of your infrastructure is wiped out.”
I leaned against the leather headrest, closing my eyes for five seconds to force my breathing into a steady, calm rhythm.
“He won't blow the tanks immediately,” I said, opening my eyes with razor-sharp clarity.
Jarro paused, looking at me with intense focus.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because Silvio is greedy before he is violent,” I explained, pulling up the terminal’s automated schematics on my laptop.
“Pier 42 has a automated emergency fuel-offloading vault containing eight million dollars of bonded aviation kerosene.”
“To trigger the demolition charges, he has to manually bypass the secondary safety interlocks from inside the main control tower.”
“And those safety protocols can only be accessed using the master administrator credentials.”
“Credentials that belong exclusively to me.”
Jarro’s eyes flashed with fierce admiration.
“He needs you alive to trigger the payout.”
“Or he needs Gemma,” I added suddenly, a cold realization striking my chest.
“Gemma doesn't know the master codes, but she watched me enter the terminal overrides for three years.”
“She knows the secondary backup protocol.”
Jarro picked up his secure radio immediately.
“Compound command, report on the basement holding cells now!”
Static hissed over the speaker for two agonizing seconds before a panicked voice replied:
“Boss! We have a breach in the basement motor pool! Two delivery vans rammed the security gates three minutes ago!”
“They took Gemma Caruso and fled east toward the industrial port canal!”
Jarro’s jaw locked into an expression of pure, unadulterated murder.
“Silvio’s extract team took your sister to use as leverage or a human key,” Jarro said, slamming his fist against the reinforced door armrest.
“She doesn't know the override, Jarro,” I said, my voice rising with urgency.
“If she tries to enter the backup protocol without the primary master key, the system triggers a thirty-second automated lockdown.”
“And when Silvio realizes she can't unlock the kerosene vaults, he will shoot her and ignite the charges manually.”
“Even after everything she did to you?” Jarro asked, his dark eyes searching mine with disbelief.
“She tried to have you murdered, Lydia. She slept with Silvio and tried to steal your life.”
“I don't care about Gemma’s gratitude or her redemption,” I said, looking him dead in the eye without flinching.
“I care about justice.”
“She deserves twenty years in a federal penitentiary wearing an orange jumpsuit, scrubbing cafeteria trays while she remembers every cruel thing she ever said to me.”
“I will not let Silvio Marconi give her a quick, clean bullet on my mother’s docks.”
Jarro stared at me for three long seconds, the cold ruthlessness in his expression melting into pure, unbridled respect.
“You are a terrifying woman, Lydia Caruso.”
“Thank you,” I replied, unzipping the hem of my sapphire velvet gown and tearing the side slit higher to allow full range of motion.
Dante grabbed a tactical communications earpiece and handed it to me, along with a lightweight Kevlar vest designed to be worn over clothing.
Jarro personally fastened the tactical straps around my torso, his knuckles grazing the heavy sapphire necklace at my throat.
“We breach Pier 42 in four minutes,” Jarro stated, racking the slide of his tactical rifle.
“My assault team will take the ground-level container yard and eliminate Silvio’s perimeter snipers.”
“I need you on the main communications line, feeding us thermal positions from the terminal’s crane monitoring feeds.”
“I can do better than that,” I said, typing a rapid series of commands into my keyboard.
“I can shut down every overhead light in the container labyrinth, activate the automated gantry cranes, and herd Silvio’s mercenaries directly into your kill zones.”
Jarro smiled, a dark, wicked grin that promised absolute devastation.
“Dante, floor it.”
The Maybach roared across the icy pavement of South Lake Shore Drive, racing toward the dark silhouette of Lake Michigan’s industrial heart.
May you like
The unwanted daughter was no longer hiding behind numbers.
She was about to orchestrate an urban tactical war on the very docks her mother had built.
