Chapter 5 - THE PHANTOM SHIPMENT
The old shipyard on the south side was a rusted graveyard of shipping containers and broken cranes, cloaked in the suffocating humidity of a Florida night. Mist rolled off the black water, obscuring the jagged edges of the decaying docks.
Dominic stood near the edge of the pier, a solitary figure illuminated by the pale moonlight. Three heavy transport trucks were parked nearby, their engines idling softly. To any observer, it looked exactly like the vulnerable, high-value transfer Dominic had described. But the trucks were empty, driven by loyal ghosts from Tony's inner circle, men who answered only to Dominic.
Miles away, in the surveillance van parked three blocks from the shipyard, Tony Mancini watched the thermal imaging cameras. "They're moving in, boss," Tony’s voice crackled through the earpiece hidden in Dominic's ear. "I count twenty men. Heavily armed. They're wearing tactical gear. Marcus is leading them. They're bypassing the perimeter because, well, Marcus is the perimeter."
Dominic didn't move. "Hold your positions. Let them close the net."
Through the fog, the silhouettes of armed men began to materialize, fanning out with military precision, surrounding the three idling trucks. They moved silently, weapons raised, completely unaware that they were walking into a steel jaw.
Marcus stepped out of the shadows, a suppressed submachine gun in his hands. He looked confident, swaggering toward where Dominic stood facing the water.
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"It's a beautiful night for a drive, Dom," Marcus called out, his voice echoing eerily off the metal containers. "Shame you won't be making the trip."
Dominic slowly turned around, his face a mask of absolute calm. He looked at the twenty men aiming rifles at his chest, then finally let his eyes rest on Marcus. "You brought a lot of firepower for a skeleton crew, Marcus."
