Chapter 17 - The Ambush at the Docks
Without the blood-oath document, our legal claim over the allied syndicate families was technically null and void. Dominic knew exactly how to weaponize tradition against us. He was planning to present the stolen document to the high council of mafia families to legally delegitimize my rule and crown himself as the rightful patriarch.
We had to intercept the extraction team before they could deliver the document to the ironworks.
“They fled in two black SUVs heading south toward the shipping shipyards,” Marcus reported, gritting his teeth as Clara tightly bandaged his leg. “They’re taking a boat across the river to bypass the city checkpoints.”
I didn't wait for backup. I grabbed a heavily modified assault rifle, a tactical vest, and several flashbang grenades. Clara mirrored my actions, loading an array of lethal weapons into her tactical gear.
“You’re staying here,” I told Clara, my voice firm. “It’s too dangerous. Dominic might be waiting at the docks to receive the package.”
Clara stepped directly into my personal space, her eyes flashing with defiant fire. “I am your wife, Bennett. I am the queen of this family. I fight by your side, or I don't fight at all. Do not try to sideline me to protect your own conscience.”
I stared into her fierce, unyielding eyes and realized she was absolutely right. She was my equal in every way. I nodded once, and we rushed out to the armored sports car.
We arrived at the desolate, rain-slicked docks just as the two black SUVs came to a screeching halt near a massive cargo freighter. Heavily armed men poured out of the vehicles, carrying a secure metal briefcase that undoubtedly held the stolen documents.
I killed the headlights of the car and coasted silently behind a stack of rusted shipping containers.
“We need to create a bottleneck,” Clara whispered, analyzing the terrain. “If we blow up the primary walkway, they’ll have to funnel through the narrow alley between the containers to reach the boat.”
I pulled a remote detonator and a brick of C4 from my tactical bag. I handed it to Clara. “Set the charge on the bridge. I’ll draw their fire and push them toward you.”
As Clara slipped into the shadows, moving like a ghost, I stepped out into the open walkway. I raised my rifle and fired a warning shot into the air, the loud crack echoing across the dark, foggy water.
“Drop the briefcase!” I shouted, my voice booming across the docks.
The mercenaries spun around, instantly raising their weapons. But before they could fire, the deafening roar of a high-powered sniper rifle echoed from the top of the cargo ship. A massive bullet tore through the concrete inches from my boot.
I dove behind a steel barricade as a barrage of heavy machine-gun fire rained down from the ship’s deck. I was completely pinned down.
Then, I heard a chillingly familiar laugh projecting from a megaphone on the ship.
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“You walked right into the trap, Bennett!” my father’s voice boomed through the fog. “I knew you would come for the documents yourself. You were always so predictable.”
My father had set the entire raid as bait, and I had swallowed it completely.
