Chapter 11 - The Descent Through Fire
The three gunshots from my small revolver cracked through the freezing salt air like lightning striking dry timber.
Forty feet above the churning black waves of Lake Michigan, my arms jarred from the violent recoil of the cylinder.
One of the heavy lead slugs punched through the shoulder of the gunman who had been aiming his rifle at Elena’s suspension cables.
He screamed, dropping his weapon onto the ice-slicked timbers of the pier before collapsing onto his knees.
The second shooter spun around in panic, spraying a blind burst of automatic fire upward into the blizzard.
Rounds hammered into the steel grating beneath my boots, sending white sparks and sheared rivets raining down into the lake.
Below me on the timber dock, Arthur Costello did not hesitate for a fraction of a second.
He closed the distance between himself and the disoriented gunmen with the ruthless speed of a hunting hound.
His heavy black automatic barked twice, the muzzle flashes cutting brilliant orange arcs through the swirling snow.
Both surviving enforcers crumpled into the slush beside the rear tires of Silas King’s idling Suburban.
Silas let out a roar of primal, venomous fury from behind the opened door of his armored vehicle.
He fired three frantic shots from a heavy caliber revolver toward the base of the gantry, chipping great chunks of concrete from the support footings.
"You think this is over, Arthur?!" Silas screamed over the howling gale, his voice hoarse with bleeding desperation.
"The whole city belongs to Harrison Vance by sunrise!"
"You are a ghost walking through your own graveyard!"
Silas threw himself into the driver's seat of the Suburban, slammed the transmission into gear, and spun the tires against the wet timber.
The heavy armored truck roared down the quarter-mile pier, smashing through wooden barricades as it fled toward the industrial canal road.
Arthur did not waste ammunition firing at the bulletproof glass of the retreating vehicle.
He turned his face upward toward the swaying crane gantry, his gray eyes catching the yellow glare of the incandescent bulb.
"Norah!" he bellowed, his voice raw from the cold and the heavy smoke of the gunfight.
"The outer cable is fraying!"
"Get your sister out before the load shears the secondary bracket!"
I looked up through the swirling sleet at the heavy woven steel cable supporting the crane cab.
Two stray bullets from the firefight had severed four of the outer steel strands, and the remaining metal was groaning under the tension.
Every gust of wind off Lake Michigan caused the glass box to lurch sickeningly over the forty-foot drop.
Inside the booth, Elena was pounding her bruised fists against the reinforced glass, her mouth open in a soundless scream of sheer terror.
I holstered the empty revolver deep into my coat pocket and scrambled across the frozen maintenance catwalk.
My fingers had lost all sensation, the icy iron rungs sticking to the raw flesh of my palms like dry ice.
I reached the narrow iron ledge directly outside the control cab’s sliding aluminum service door.
The latch was padlocked from the outside with a heavy brass master lock Silas’s men had clamped onto the hasp.
"Elena, move back!" I shouted, the wind tearing the words from my mouth before they could carry.
I pointed frantically toward the back corner of the small cabin, motioning for her to shield her face.
She understood, scrambling backward on her knees until she pressed herself flat beneath the iron instrument panel.
I unhooked the heavy steel maintenance shackle I had taken from Leo’s truck, gripping the threaded bolt like a hammer.
I swung the heavy iron bolt against the brass padlock with every ounce of strength remaining in my trembling body.
The metal screeched in protest, sending jarring vibrations straight up my collarbone.
I struck it a second time, praying to the memory of my father’s stubborn endurance.
On the third blow, the frozen brass hasp shattered into three jagged pieces, and the sliding door flew open against the gale.
The freezing wind rushed into the tiny cabin, tearing navigation charts and loose inspection logs from the dashboard.
I lunged inside and dropped onto my knees, throwing my arms tightly around my sobbing, shivering sister.
"I have you, El," I choked out, pressing my freezing cheek against her tear-streaked skin.
"I’m right here, you're safe, I’ve got you."
"Norah... the floor is moving," Elena sobbed, her entire body trembling violently against my chest.
"The water... it’s right underneath us."
"Don't look at the water," I ordered, my voice trembling but fierce with absolute necessity.
"Look at my face."
"Look right at me, Elena."
She forced her brown eyes to meet mine, the same eyes our father had carried to his grave.
"We have to climb down the iron ladder," I told her, unbuttoning my coat to wrap its woolen lining around her thin shoulders.
"I am going to be right behind you on the rungs."
"If you slip, you hold onto the steel, and I will catch you."
Suddenly, an ominous, ear-splitting metallic crack reverberated through the roof of the cabin.
The frayed cable snapped entirely, whipping through the snowy air like a steel whip and shattering the upper windows into a thousand crystals.
The crane control booth tilted violently forty-five degrees toward the churning black lake.
Elena screamed as the office furniture and metal toolboxes slid across the diamond-plate floor toward the open doorway.
I threw my right arm around the base of the bolted operator’s pedestal, catching Elena’s wrist with my left hand as her feet swung out over the abyss.
Thirty feet below us, the freezing black waves of Lake Michigan churned with jagged blocks of harbor ice.
Elena was dangling in the open air, her boots kicking frantically against the empty, roaring gale.
"Norah! Don't let go!" she shrieked, the spray from the crashing waves misting over her face.
"I am not letting go!" I screamed back, my shoulder muscles tearing in agony as I took her entire dead weight.
"Reach for the maintenance ladder with your right boot!"
"I can't reach it!"
Before my fingers could slip from her wrist, a massive, dark figure hauled himself over the edge of the tilted doorway.
Arthur Costello threw his long frame across the slanting floor, ignoring the blood pouring down the left sleeve of his jacket.
His large, calloused hand clamped around Elena’s upper arm with an unbreakable grip that felt like solid iron.
With a single, explosive heave of his broad shoulders, he dragged my sister back over the threshold onto the diamond plate.
He pulled both of us against his chest, shielding our bodies with his heavy tactical coat as the crane frame groaned again.
"The lower shackle is warping!" Arthur shouted directly into my ear over the roar of the wind.
"We have sixty seconds before the whole gantry collapses into the basin!"
"Get Elena onto the ladder, Arthur!" I shouted back, wiping the freezing sleet from my eyes.
Arthur didn't waste a breath on words.
He hoisted Elena by the waist, swinging her lightly across the gap onto the frozen iron rungs of the maintenance tower.
"Climb down, Elena!" Arthur ordered, his voice commanding and devoid of fear.
"Do not look down, and do not stop until your boots touch the wooden pier!"
Elena grabbed the rungs, driven by pure survival instinct, descending toward the pier with desperate speed.
Arthur turned back to me, extending his right hand across the tipping chasm.
"Your turn, Norah."
I reached for his hand, but as I lunged forward, the secondary counterweight bracket snapped under the uneven load.
The entire crane cabin sheared off its remaining bolts, dropping twelve feet in a terrifying freefall toward the water.
I fell backward onto the slanted glass wall, sliding toward the dark waves waiting below.
Arthur did not jump back to the safety of the ladder.
He dove headfirst through the falling doorway, hooking his knees through the steel framework of the gantry ladder.
His right hand caught the collar of my wool coat in midair, jerking me to a sudden, violent halt three feet above the water.
The heavy crane cabin struck the lake beneath me with a thunderous roar, sending a mountain of freezing spray into the blizzard.
The black water swallowed the steel box whole, leaving only bubbling foam and drifting shards of timber.
Arthur strained against the iron ladder, his teeth clenched so hard I could hear the enamel grind, his veins bulging like ropes along his neck.
With a low, guttural roar that came from the depths of his soul, he hauled me upward against the current of the freezing wind.
I caught the lower rung of the gantry with both hands, my boots finding purchase on the ice-covered concrete footing.
We collapsed together onto the wooden timber of the pier, our chests heaving with ragged, freezing breaths.
Elena dropped to her knees beside us, throwing her arms around both of our shoulders, weeping openly into the falling snow.
Arthur lay on his back for five seconds, staring up into the swirling whiteout, his face pale as marble, smeared with soot and blood.
Then he looked at me, his cold gray eyes softening into an expression of raw, unvarnished reverence.
"You held her," he whispered, his chest rising and falling beneath his ruined coat.
"You held her over forty feet of water."
"I told you," I answered through chattering teeth, resting my bruised forehead against his shoulder.
"A Hayes doesn't run when the bill comes due."
From the far end of the pier, the deep rumble of a heavy diesel engine shook the wooden decking.
Leo arrived in the flatbed truck, sliding the heavy vehicle sideways across the slush to create a protective barrier between us and the road.
The old driver stepped out into the blizzard, his shotgun held across his chest, his weathered face grim as a gravestone.
"Silas is heading straight for the city center," Leo announced, stepping over the fallen bodies on the pier.
"And the state police have just cordoned off the entire downtown corridor."
"Harrison Vance has officially announced an emergency warrant for Arthur Costello's execution."
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Arthur pushed himself up from the timber, his jaw tightening into a razor-thin line of cold, lethal purpose.
"Then let us not keep the District Attorney waiting," Arthur said.
