Chapter 6 - The Devil’s Warehouse
Richard’s shock lasted only a second. He let out a dark, booming laugh that echoed in the empty warehouse.
"Officer Brooks," Richard mocked, clapping his hands slowly. "I have to admit, I underestimated you. I thought Marcus had taken care of you at the bus station. But you walking in here alone? That's not brave. That's suicide."
The massive man holding the syringe dropped it and reached for the heavy pistol holstered at his hip.
"Don't even twitch," Rachel roared, shifting her aim to the hitman. "Hands in the air, right now!"
"Shoot her," Richard ordered calmly.
The hitman drew his weapon, but Rachel was faster. Three years on the SWAT entry team before taking a demotion to a beat cop had honed her reflexes to razor precision. She squeezed the trigger twice.
Bang. Bang.
The hitman’s gun flew from his hand as a bullet shattered his shoulder. He screamed, collapsing to his knees.
Richard’s arrogant smile instantly vanished. He lunged for the fallen gun.
Rachel didn't hesitate. She fired a warning shot that sparked off the concrete an inch from Richard’s expensive leather shoes.
"The next one goes through your kneecap, counselor!" Rachel shouted, advancing rapidly. "Get on the ground! Face down, hands behind your head!"
Richard froze. He looked at the gun, then up at Rachel. For the first time in his privileged, untouchable life, he realized his money and his connections meant absolutely nothing against a woman with nothing to lose and a loaded gun.
Slowly, Richard sank to his knees, his tailored suit soaking in the filthy warehouse water. He laced his fingers behind his head.
Rachel kicked the fallen gun away and moved to Sarah. Keeping her weapon trained on Richard, she pulled a folding knife from her tactical belt and slashed the heavy zip-ties binding Sarah to the chair.
Sarah collapsed into Rachel’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Lily... Leo..." Sarah choked out.
"They're safe," Rachel promised, pulling Sarah to her feet. "They are safe at the hospital. Dr. Aris is protecting them. You did it, Sarah. You kept them safe."
"This changes nothing," Richard sneered from the floor, his venom returning. "You shoot me, you're a murderer. You arrest me, I’m out on bail in an hour. The DA is my golf partner. The judge is my neighbor. You have a recording? I’ll have it ruled inadmissible. You can't win, Brooks. The system belongs to me."
Rachel pulled out her personal cell phone. She hadn't been idle while driving to the shipyard. She knew she couldn't trust the local police. She knew she couldn't trust Marcus.
So, she had called the one organization that loved taking down corrupt local officials.
"You’re right, Richard. The local system belongs to you," Rachel said, tapping the screen of her phone. "That's why I didn't call the Detroit Police."
Suddenly, the massive bay doors of the warehouse were blown open with a deafening explosion of breaching charges. Blinding tactical floodlights pierced the darkness.
Dozens of heavily armed agents in dark blue windbreakers poured into the building, laser sights painting Richard Vance’s chest.
FBI.
A stern-looking federal agent with a badge clipped to his belt walked into the warehouse, flanked by tactical operators.
"Richard Vance," the FBI agent announced, his voice echoing through a megaphone. "You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder, kidnapping, and federal racketeering. Officer Brooks, we intercepted your transmission. Good work. We have Marcus in custody at dispatch. The entire house of cards is coming down tonight."
Richard stared at the federal agents in sheer, unadulterated terror. He wasn't going to a local precinct where he could buy his way out. He was going to a federal holding cell. His empire was over.
As the FBI hauled Richard away in heavy iron chains, Sarah leaned heavily against Rachel.
"Is it true?" Sarah whispered, tears streaming down her bruised face. "Is it really over?"
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Rachel looked at the brave, battered mother, and offered her the first genuine smile of the night.
"It's over. Let's go get your kids."
