Chapter 8 - THE FIRE ON THE WATER
The blinding light from the harbor patrol boat pinned them in the doorway of the shipping container.
Julian Russo stood on the bow of the boat, a megaphone in one hand and a rifle in the other. Six of his men lined the deck, weapons drawn.
Julian had let Declan do all the dirty work, waiting for the perfect moment to sweep in and clean up the pieces.
"You’ve got nowhere to go, Cian!" Julian’s voice boomed over the water. "Declan called me before you arrived. He sold you out completely. Drop the weapons and walk out."
Maeve tightened her grip on Leo, pressing his face into her chest so he wouldn't see the guns. The little boy was shaking violently, his tiny hands clutching the blue toy car.
"Mommy, I'm scared," Leo whispered.
"I know, baby. I know. But we're going to be okay," Maeve promised, though her heart was pounding in her throat.
Cian stepped in front of them, using his body as a human shield. The rain plastered his hair to his forehead. He looked at the explosive brick still strapped to the container door. The green light blinked steadily.
"Maeve," Cian muttered, not taking his eyes off the boat. "When I say go, grab Leo and run to the left. Hide behind the yellow crane."
"What are you going to do?" she hissed.
"I'm going to finish this."
Julian raised his rifle. "Ten seconds, Callaway! Or we open fire!"
Cian reached out and grabbed the block of C4. He ripped it off the metal door, the adhesive tearing with a loud screech.
"Go!" Cian roared.
Maeve scooped Leo up and sprinted into the freezing rain.
Gunfire erupted from the boat. Bullets sparked against the rusty metal of the shipping containers, tearing through the air like angry hornets. Maeve dove behind the massive steel treads of a yellow loading crane, curling her body over her son.
Cian didn't run.
He stepped out into the open, his arm pulled back. With perfect, lethal precision, he hurled the block of C4 like a baseball, straight across the twenty yards of water toward the boat.
The explosive landed on the metal deck right at Julian Russo’s feet.
Julian looked down, his eyes widening in absolute terror.
Cian held up the detonator. He didn't smile. He didn't gloat.
"You wanted the waterfront, Julian," Cian yelled over the rain. "You can have it."
Cian pressed the button.
The explosion shattered the Boston night. A massive fireball ripped through the patrol boat, turning the hull into shrapnel and splinters. The shockwave knocked Cian off his feet, sending him crashing backward into the mud.
Heat washed over the docks, evaporating the rain instantly.
Maeve screamed, covering Leo’s ears as the deafening roar echoed across the harbor. Debris rained down around them—burning wood, twisted metal, and shattered glass splashing violently into the black water.
Then, silence.
Only the crackle of burning wreckage breaking the quiet.
Maeve peeked out from behind the crane. The boat was gone. Only burning pieces floated on the tide.
"Cian!" Maeve screamed.
She put Leo down. "Stay right here, honey. Don't move."
She ran toward the smoking crater where Cian had been standing. He was lying on his back in the mud, a jagged piece of shrapnel embedded in his left shoulder. Blood was soaking through his expensive white shirt.
Maeve dropped to her knees. She ripped off her stained apron, balling it up and pressing it hard against his wound.
Cian winced, his gray eyes fluttering open. He looked up at the sky, then at Maeve.
"Is he safe?" Cian asked, his voice a ragged wheeze.
"He's safe," Maeve cried, applying more pressure. "You saved us."
"No," Cian couighed, a faint, genuine smile touching his lips. "You saved me. You saved the pasta, remember?"
Suddenly, a tiny hand reached out and touched Cian’s uninjured arm.
Leo was standing there. He looked at the bleeding mafia boss, then slowly held out his precious blue toy car.
"You can play with it if you want," Leo said softly. "It makes you feel better."
Cian looked at the boy. Tommy’s boy. A single tear mixed with the rain on Cian’s face. He reached up with a trembling hand and took the toy car.
"Thank you, Leo," Cian whispered.
May you like
In the distance, the wail of police sirens began to echo through the city.
Cian forced himself to sit up. "Help me up, Maeve. We have a lot of work to do."
