Chapter 6 - The Game of Rooks and Knives
Viktor Sterling leaned against the railing of the gantry crane, looking down at Vito and Ivy with an expression of mild, mocking amusement.
"Vito," Sterling called out, his voice echoing off the corrugated metal walls. "I must hand it to you. I spent six months engineering the perfect, untraceable botanical cocktail for that black cod, and you survived because some random line cook with a secondhand jacket decided to play food safety inspector."
Vito’s gun remained locked dead center on Sterling’s chest, though he hadn't climbed the stairs yet. His voice was glacial. "You stepped onto my docks, Sterling. You compromised my kitchens. And you tried to kill me over a trade dispute."
"It’s not a trade dispute anymore, Vito," Sterling laughed softly, raising a small, black electronic trigger in his right hand. "It’s a liquidation. Look behind you."
Ivy spun around.
From behind three towering stacks of shipping containers, four armed enforcers stepped out from the shadows, their weapons raised, cutting off the exit toward the side door and trapping Vito and Ivy against the open pier.
Marco, realizing he was no longer the primary target of Sterling’s wrath, grabbed his duffel bag and scrambled frantically toward the edge of the dock, leaping down into the idling speedboat. The engine roared to life, kicking up a white wake of foam as the boat tore out into the dark waters of the East River.
Vito didn't flinch. He didn't even look back at the enforcers closing in behind them. His dark eyes remained fixed on Sterling high above on the catwalk.
"You brought four men to a slaughter, Viktor," Vito said coldly.
"I brought four men to finish a job," Sterling countered, his thumb hovering over the trigger. "Goodbye, Moretti."
Before Sterling could press the button, Ivy moved.
She didn't run for the car. She didn't scream. With the cold, calculating precision of a chef executing a rush-hour ticket order, she reached into her jacket, pulled out the heavy utility knife, and hurled it across the space between the containers.
The blade spun end-over-end through the dim air, striking the metal railing of the gantry crane a mere inch from Sterling’s hand with a deafening CLANG.
Startled by the unexpected missile, Sterling jerked his hand back, dropping the remote detonator. It hit the metal grating, bounced twice, and fell through the open gaps of the catwalk, plunging straight down into the murky depths of the East River.
"Now, Viktor!" Vito roared.
From the shadows above the rafters, Kaelen and two of Vito’s elite snipers opened fire with non-lethal suppression rounds. Sterling’s four enforcers collapsed instantly, their weapons clattering against the concrete as tranquilizer darts found their marks.
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Viktor Sterling scrambled backward, panicking as he realized his trap had completely imploded, but before he could reach the emergency stairs, Kaelen dropped down from the crane directly in front of him, pinning the rival syndicate boss against the railing with a cold, steel grip.
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