Part 4: The Docks of Retribution
At 11:45 PM, the freezing sea fog rolled heavy over Pier 42. Black shipping containers towered like iron giant graves under the dim floodlights. Marcus stood by a luxury sedan, flanked by six armed guards, watching his team load heavy steel crates onto a foreign cargo vessel.
“Load faster!” Marcus barked, adjusting the collar of his expensive wool coat. “Once the ship clears international waters, the Vance name is clean.”
“The Vance name was never yours to clean, Marcus,” my voice echoed through the fog.
Marcus spun around, his guards instantly raising their weapons. I stepped out from behind a stack of pallets, dressed in a black coat, completely alone. Or so he thought.
Marcus let out a cruel, mocking laugh. “Grant? What are you doing here? You should be home weeping over your missing wife’s picture.”
“Lena isn’t missing anymore, Marcus,” I said, taking a slow step forward. “And neither are the forty million dollars you tried to move through the Cayman accounts twenty minutes ago.”
Marcus’s smile instantly vanished. He pulled his phone from his pocket, his eyes widening in sheer terror as he saw his corporate accounts flashing red, completely frozen by the federal treasury. “What did you do?!”
“He didn’t do it alone,” Sofia’s voice called out over the ship’s PA system.
Suddenly, red laser sight grids washed across the pier as tactical police units swarmed from the shadows, their heavy boots slamming against the wet pavement. “Federal agents! Drop your weapons! Hands on your heads now!”
To see the family reunited and justice served, continue reading below for the final part.…
