Chapter 5 - THE ABANDONED DRY DOCK
The rusted gates of Pier 4 stood wide open, twisted off their hinges as if a heavy vehicle had plowed straight through them.
Elena’s sedan crept along the gravel access road, its headlights cutting through the thick, grey mist rolling off the Chicago River. In the passenger seat beside her sat Matteo, checking the magazine of a heavy semiautomatic pistol with cool, calculated efficiency.
"Stay in the car, Mrs. Moretti," Matteo instructed as the sedan came to a silent halt behind a stack of rotting wooden crates. "If I'm not back out in fifteen minutes, you drive straight to the state police barracks."
Elena turned off the engine, but she didn't reach for the door handle to lock herself inside. Instead, she popped her own door open and stepped out onto the damp gravel, clutching her heavy winter coat around her.
"I'm not staying in the car, Matteo," Elena said calmly. "They took my ex-husband, and they're holding the man who tried to destroy my family. This ends today."
Matteo started to object, but one look at the fierce, unyielding determination in Elena's eyes made him swallow his words. He gave a sharp nod. "Stay behind me. Every step."
The abandoned dry dock at Pier 7 was a massive, cathedral-like structure of corrugated iron and rusted steel girders. A single flickering halogen light bulb hung from a frayed cord over the central catwalk, casting eerie, distorted shadows across the dry concrete basin below.
As Elena and Matteo crept through the side personnel door, the sound of muffled voices echoed up from the lower level.
"...you arrogant bastard, you were supposed to leave him in the van!" Vanessa’s shrill, panicked voice snapped through the cavernous space.
"Shut up, Vanessa!" Marco yelled back, sounding bruised and desperate. "If Harrington’s men didn't grab him, Moretti would have had us both executed by sunset! At least this way, we have leverage!"
Elena and Matteo froze at the top of the metal staircase leading down into the dry basin.
Standing in the center of the concrete floor, tied securely to a heavy steel support pillar, was Luca Moretti. His head was bowed, a dark bruise staining his jawline, and his hands were bound tightly behind his back with industrial zip-ties.
Standing a few feet away, holding a smoking pistol, was a tall, sharply dressed man Elena recognized immediately from news reports: Viktor Vance, Richard Harrington’s primary syndicate enforcer.
Beside Viktor stood Marco and Vanessa, looking disheveled, their expensive clothes stained with road dust and soot.
"Moretti," Viktor sneered, stepping closer to Luca and tapping the barrel of his pistol against Luca’s collarbone. "You always thought you were untouchable. You thought your family name protected you from the real power in this city."
Luca slowly raised his head. Despite his bindings and the blood on his cheek, his dark eyes burned with an icy, terrifying intensity.
"Harrington is a coward hiding behind corporate lawyers," Luca said, his voice deep and steady. "And you're just a dog running his errands, Viktor. When my men find this place—"
"Your men aren't finding anything," Viktor laughed harshly. "By midnight, this entire dry dock goes up in flames. The federal authorities will find three bodies, and everyone will assume the Moretti syndicate finally tore itself apart from the inside out."
Marco flinched, his face turning pale. "Wait... you said we were getting a clean exit to Canada! You said we'd have our share of the accounts!"
Viktor turned, pointing his pistol directly at Marco’s chest.
"Did you really think a traitor gets a retirement package?" Viktor smiled coldly. "You outlived your usefulness the second you handed over the Moretti board shares, Marco. You're just a loose end."
Before Viktor could pull the trigger, Elena stepped out from the shadow of the metal staircase, her voice ringing clear and sharp across the empty dry dock.
"Put the gun down, Viktor."
Every head in the room whipped toward the stairs.
Viktor blinked in surprise, lowering his pistol slightly as he spotted Elena standing beside Matteo, who had already raised his weapon and locked his sights squarely on Viktor’s chest.
"Well, well," Viktor smirked, recovering quickly. "Look what the river washed in. The faithful ex-wife coming to die with her husband how romantic."
Luca’s eyes widened in horror as he saw Elena standing in the crossfire.
"Elena, get out of here!" Luca shouted, straining against his heavy bindings. "It's a trap!"
Elena didn't move an inch. She walked slowly down the metal stairs, her heels clicking rhythmically against the steps until she stood on the concrete floor just twenty feet away from the armed enforcer.
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She reached into her coat pocket, pulled out the gold locket, and flipped it open, revealing the micro-SD card glinting under the harsh halogen light.
"You want leverage, Viktor?" Elena asked calmly. "You're holding the wrong files."
