Chapter 4 - Midnight at Pier Nineteen
Maya stood in Adrian’s secure bedroom staring at the black television screen long after Elena disappeared from it.
Three years.
For three years, Maya had imagined her sister in a thousand places.
Living under another name.
Married.
Scared.
Free.
Dead.
She had rehearsed what she would say if Elena ever walked through a door again.
Where were you?
Why did you leave?
Did you ever think about me?
But after seeing her tied to that chair, bruised and terrified, every question vanished.
Only one remained.
“How do we get her back?”
Adrian was already on his phone.
“Marco, trace the transmission.”
“Working.”
“Lock the estate. Nobody leaves.”
“Already done.”
“Pull all access records from the last seventy-two hours. Staff, security, deliveries, vehicles.”
Maya grabbed Adrian’s arm.
“How do we get her back?”
He looked at her.
“We will.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It’s the only one I have right now.”
“They want me.”
“No.”
She stared.
“No?”
“You are not going anywhere near them.”
“They will kill her.”
“They may kill both of you if I hand you over.”
“So we make a plan.”
“I said no.”
“And I already explained how much I enjoy that word.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“This is not a burst pipe, Maya.”
“I noticed.”
“These men have spent months looking for a way into my organization. Now they have one.”
“Me.”
His jaw tightened.
“They think so.”
“Why?”
“That’s what we need to find out.”
Marco looked up from a tablet.
“I have something.”
Adrian moved beside him.
“The transmission bounced through six servers, but whoever set it up made one mistake. Audio metadata tagged a municipal emergency band.”
“Location?”
“South Chicago industrial district. Near the Calumet River.”
Maya approached.
“How close?”
“Maybe a two-mile radius.”
Adrian looked at the wall clock.
8:36 p.m.
More than twenty-seven hours until the deadline.
“We have time.”
Maya shook her head.
“No. We have the amount of time they want us to think we have.”
Adrian looked at her.
“What?”
“Elena kept tapping her left thumb.”
Marco frowned.
“You noticed that?”
“She used to do it when she wanted me to pay attention without talking.”
Adrian’s expression sharpened.
“What was she signaling?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Maya closed her eyes.
She replayed the video.
Elena tied to the chair.
Bruised.
Terrified.
Left thumb tapping.
Three quick taps.
Pause.
One.
Pause.
Nine.
Maya opened her eyes.
“Three. One. Nine.”
Marco stared.
“319?”
“No.”
Maya’s heart accelerated.
“When we were kids, Elena and I had codes. Our building was number three-nineteen.”
Adrian waited.
“What does it mean?”
“She would use parts of the address to tell me where to look.”
“Three nineteen could mean—”
“Pier Nineteen.”
Adrian and Marco exchanged a look.
Maya saw it.
“What?”
Marco turned the tablet.
A map filled the screen.
“There’s a Pier Nineteen on the Calumet.”
“How far from the transmission zone?”
“Inside it.”
Maya grabbed her shoes.
Adrian blocked the doorway.
“No.”
“Oh, for—”
“You are staying here.”
“She sent that message to me.”
“And I heard it.”
“You don’t know what else she might signal.”
“I can bring the video.”
“She won’t trust the video!”
“She trusts you. Which is exactly why Soren wants you there.”
Maya stared at him.
“Do you have siblings?”
The question caught him off guard.
“No.”
“Then don’t tell me to sit safely in a mansion while mine has a gun against her head.”
Something in her voice silenced the room.
Adrian looked at her for a long moment.
Then he spoke to Marco.
“Body armor.”
Marco raised an eyebrow.
“Seriously?”
“Apparently I’ve lost control of my house.”
“You lost that around the mop.”
“Marco.”
“Right.”
Maya blinked.
“You’re letting me come?”
“No.”
“You just ordered body armor.”
“I’m allowing you to be near the operation under conditions that would make the Secret Service feel insecure.”
“Close enough.”
An hour later, Maya sat inside an armored SUV surrounded by more weapons than she had seen in her entire life.
Adrian sat across from her.
He had changed into black trousers, a dark shirt, and a bulletproof vest beneath a tactical jacket.
Maya hated that danger suited him.
“You’re staring,” he said.
“No.”
“You are.”
“I was evaluating your deeply unhealthy relationship with black clothing.”
Adrian glanced at her oversized tactical vest.
“You look like you’re being eaten by yours.”
“I’m five-foot-five. Your security team appears to recruit exclusively from professional refrigerators.”
Marco laughed from the front seat.
Adrian looked at him.
“Drive.”
“Driving.”
The convoy stopped four blocks from Pier Nineteen.
Adrian would not allow Maya any closer until his men had cleared the outer perimeter.
She watched the operation through a tablet feed.
Warehouses.
Shipping containers.
Black water moving beneath old industrial lights.
Eleven men spread out silently.
Marco led one team.
Adrian another.
Maya stayed inside the vehicle with two guards.
For seven minutes, nothing happened.
Then Marco whispered through the radio.
“Movement.”
Maya leaned closer.
A shadow crossed between containers.
Adrian’s voice answered.
“Hold.”
Another shadow.
Then a burst of gunfire ripped through the speakers.
Maya flinched.
The guards outside her vehicle raised their weapons.
“Stay down, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me ma’am during gunfire.”
One guard stared.
“Sorry?”
“Never mind.”
The radio erupted.
“West side!”
“Two shooters!”
“Moving!”
Maya watched tiny body-camera images shake across the screen.
Adrian disappeared behind steel containers.
Marco fired.
Someone screamed.
Then every feed went dark.
Maya’s heart stopped.
“What happened?”
The guard beside her checked the tablet.
“Signal jammer.”
“Can you contact them?”
“No.”
A loud metallic bang came from behind the SUV.
Both guards turned.
One stepped away.
Maya saw movement in the side mirror.
A figure.
“Behind you!”
Too late.
The first guard collapsed.
The second spun.
A suppressed shot struck his vest and threw him backward.
Maya scrambled across the seat.
The rear door opened.
A masked man grabbed for her.
Maya slammed the door into his arm.
He cursed.
She kicked.
He grabbed her ankle.
“Let go!”
He pulled her halfway from the vehicle.
Maya seized the nearest object.
A fire extinguisher.
Apparently household maintenance had been excellent combat training.
She slammed it into his mask.
Once.
Twice.
He staggered.
Maya ran.
Behind her, the man recovered.
Footsteps chased her between two warehouses.
She reached a chain-link fence.
Locked.
“Perfect.”
The man came around the corner.
Maya backed away.
Then someone hit him from the side with terrifying force.
Adrian.
He drove the attacker into the wall, tore the weapon from his hand, and struck him hard enough to send him unconscious to the pavement.
Then Adrian turned toward Maya.
She had never seen him look like that.
Furious.
Terrified.
“Maya.”
“I’m okay.”
“You were told to stay inside the car.”
“Someone tried to remove me from the car.”
His hand went to the back of her neck.
“You’re bleeding.”
She touched her temple.
A small cut.
“I’ve had papercuts worse.”
His face darkened.
“That is not helping.”
“I wasn’t aware this was a customer satisfaction survey.”
His fingers tightened slightly at her neck.
Then he pulled her against him.
Maya froze.
So did he.
This was not like catching her.
Not like checking for injuries.
Adrian Voss was holding her.
For one quiet second, the gunfire seemed miles away.
Maya could feel his heartbeat beneath the vest.
Fast.
“Adrian.”
His face lowered toward her hair.
“When I saw that door open…”
He stopped.
Maya slowly wrapped one arm around him.
“I’m here.”
“That’s the problem.”
She leaned back.
“What?”
His gaze dropped to her mouth.
“You’re becoming something I cannot afford.”
Neither moved.
Maya’s breath caught.
Adrian lowered his head.
Then Marco’s voice burst through the radio.
“We found the room.”
Adrian stepped away immediately.
Reality returned.
“Elena?”
Marco hesitated.
“It’s empty.”
Maya’s heart sank.
“But there’s something here you need to see.”
They entered the warehouse five minutes later.
The concrete room from the broadcast was unmistakable.
Chair.
Ropes.
Camera.
Blood on the floor.
Maya’s stomach twisted.
“Elena.”
“No body,” Adrian said.
“She was here.”
“Yes.”
Marco stood beside a folding table.
On it sat a laptop and a manila folder.
Maya opened the folder.
Inside were photographs of Adrian.
His estate.
His cars.
His warehouses.
And Maya.
Dozens of photographs.
Some were recent.
Some were not.
Maya lifted one with shaking fingers.
She was nineteen.
Standing outside a community college graduation ceremony.
Another showed her at twenty-two.
Another at twenty-four.
“They’ve been watching me for years.”
Adrian took the images.
His expression became deadly.
Marco was reading something from the laptop.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“This isn’t surveillance collected by Soren.”
“How do you know?”
“The files were copied from another source.”
“Whose?”
Marco turned the screen.
A security logo appeared.
VOSS STRATEGIC INTELLIGENCE.
Maya looked at Adrian.
The entire room went silent.
“What is that?”
Adrian didn’t answer.
“Adrian.”
His face had changed.
Not surprise.
Recognition.
Maya stepped backward.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“That’s your company name.”
“It’s an internal division.”
“You had photographs of me when I was nineteen?”
“No.”
“Then explain it.”
Adrian moved toward the laptop.
Marco blocked him slightly.
“There’s more.”
A personnel file opened.
ELENA BENNETT.
Status: confidential asset.
Recruitment date: May 2019.
Maya stared at the words.
Her sister had worked for Adrian.
Three years before she disappeared.
She looked at him.
“You knew Elena.”
Adrian was silent.
The betrayal hit harder than fear.
“You knew my sister.”
“I knew of her.”
“Don’t.”
“Maya—”
“Do not lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“She worked for you!”
“I never met her personally.”
“Then why is her file inside your intelligence division?”
Adrian stared at the screen.
“Because someone recruited her without my authorization.”
Maya laughed once.
Sharp.
Disbelieving.
“What an incredibly convenient answer.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Three years, Adrian.”
“I know.”
“I spent three years searching for her, and I have been living inside the house of the man whose company employed her.”
“I did not know.”
“How could you not know?”
“Because Voss Strategic Intelligence was shut down four years ago.”
Marco looked at him.
“What?”
Adrian’s expression hardened.
“I closed it after my father died.”
Maya stopped.
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
“And whoever recruited Elena…”
Adrian looked at the date again.
“…did it after the division supposedly no longer existed.”
A phone rang.
Not Adrian’s.
Not Marco’s.
The sound came from beneath the table.
Maya crouched.
A cheap burner phone.
She picked it up.
Adrian reached for her.
“Maya, don’t—”
She answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then Elena whispered:
“Maya?”
Maya’s knees nearly gave out.
“Elena. Where are you?”
“I don’t have long.”
“Tell me where you are.”
“You need to get away from Adrian Voss.”
Maya looked at him.
His face became stone.
“Elena, he’s trying to help.”
“No.”
Her sister sounded terrified.
“Maya, listen to me. Soren isn’t the one you should be afraid of.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The person who destroyed my life is inside Adrian’s family.”
Maya’s breathing stopped.
“Who?”
A noise sounded on Elena’s side of the call.
Footsteps.
“Elena?”
“I found proof three years ago. That’s why I disappeared.”
“Proof of what?”
“That Adrian’s father didn’t die the way everyone thinks.”
Adrian moved closer.
Maya stared at him.
“Elena, what happened to his father?”
Her sister inhaled shakily.
Then said six words that changed everything.
May you like
“Adrian’s mother ordered his murder.”
The call went dead.
