Chapter 6 - The Reversal
Dominic slammed on the brakes of the backup SUV, the tires screaming in protest.
"Repeat that," he ordered, the adrenaline spiking violently in his veins.
"The tracker," Evangeline breathed heavily into the phone, the sound of chaos echoing in the background.
"When Vincent's men grabbed me, I pulled the tracker from my pocket and dropped it into his coat."
Dominic stared at the GPS monitor mounted on the dashboard.
The blinking red dot wasn't heading toward Caldwell’s heavily fortified estate as he had expected.
It was moving rapidly toward the commercial shipping docks on the east side of the city.
"Where are you right now?" Dominic demanded, throwing the SUV into gear and flooring the gas pedal.
"They threw me in the trunk of the third car," she whispered. "Vincent is in the lead vehicle."
"Evangeline, listen to me," Dominic said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "Do exactly what I say."
He instructed her to locate the emergency trunk release latch, usually glowing in the dark near the lock mechanism.
"I found it," she replied a moment later, her breathing shallow.
"Do not pull it until the car comes to a complete stop," Dominic ordered. "The moment you feel them park, you pull it, you run, and you hide. I am coming for you."
He ended the call, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles entirely white.
Marco was furiously reloading magazines in the passenger seat, a lethal silence radiating from him.
They tore through the empty city streets, running every red light, heading straight for the docks.
They arrived ten minutes later, the smell of salt and diesel fuel thick in the cold night air.
The massive, towering shipping containers created a complex, shadowy maze.
Dominic parked a block away, cutting the headlights.
He and Marco moved silently on foot, slipping between the towering metal boxes like ghosts.
The GPS dot showed Caldwell’s vehicle stopped at the far end of Pier 4.
As they crept closer, Dominic heard the sharp, distinct sound of a trunk popping open.
A second later, a voice yelled out in alarm.
"She's gone! The rat got out of the trunk!"
Gunfire erupted, wild and panicked, echoing through the empty pier.
Dominic broke into a full sprint, drawing his weapon.
He rounded the corner of a massive red container just in time to see Evangeline dive behind a stack of wooden pallets.
Two of Caldwell's men were advancing on her position, their rifles raised.
Dominic didn't hesitate.
He fired two suppressed shots, dropping both men instantly before they even realized they were under attack.
He rushed to the pallets, finding Evangeline huddled in the mud, clutching her ribs.
"You came back," she gasped, looking up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes.
"I told you I wouldn't leave you," Dominic stated, pulling her roughly to her feet.
Before they could move toward the safety of the containers, the glaring spotlight of a crane swung directly onto them.
"Drop the weapon, Ashford!" Caldwell's voice boomed from a loudspeaker mounted on the pier.
Dominic squinted against the blinding light.
Vincent Caldwell stood at the end of the dock, holding the small red tracker in his hand.
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But he wasn't alone.
Standing next to him, wearing an expensive suit and smoking a cigar, was the Mayor of New York City.
