Chapter 16 - The Trigger in the Dark
"Nobody move!" Croft roared, holding the detonator high, his thumb resting squarely over the armed red switch.
The warehouse erupted into chaos. Men drew weapons, safety catches clicking off in a deafening chorus, shouting voices echoing off the iron girders! Dennis Crowley stepped directly in front of Nora, his heavy caliber weapon leveled at Victor’s skull!
"Drop the switch, Croft!" Dennis bellowed. "Drop it or you're dead where you stand!"
Victor Sterling didn't flinch. He looked up at Nora, his eyes burning with triumphant malice.
"Beneath this pier," Victor said, his voice cutting through the shouting like a siren, "lie two hundred pounds of industrial C-4, placed during the terminal renovation twelve years ago. One press of that button, Nora, and the Grand Pier, the warehouse, every syndicate captain in this room, and the entire surviving line of Samuel Bellamy will plunge into forty feet of black Hudson water."
The room went completely, terrifyingly still.
The powerful men who controlled the East Coast’s ports looked around in rising panic. They were trapped on a pier extending into freezing water, facing an elderly psychopath who had nothing left to lose.
Nora Bellamy did not move.
She gently placed her hand on Dennis’s shoulder, urging him to step aside. Dennis hesitated, but the authority in her touch was absolute. He stepped back.
Nora looked down at Victor.
Her expression was not one of fear. It was not even one of anger.
It was pure, merciless pity.
"Victor," Nora said softly. "Do you really believe my father was so blind?"
Victor’s eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"
"The 1984 renovation," Nora continued, her voice echoing in the dead quiet. "You personally signed off on the engineering contracts. You placed the charges beneath Pier 4 and Pier 6, believing they would serve as your ultimate contingency if the Compact ever turned against you."
She looked at Julian Vance. "Julian."
Julian pulled a small, black radio receiver from his coat and keyed the mic. "Cut the lines."
From the dark water beneath the pier came three muffled, metallic *thuds*—the sound of heavy hydraulic shears cutting through industrial conduit cables.
A young man in a soaked wetsuit climbed over the edge of the pier platform, holding three thick, severed bundles of red and yellow wiring. He dropped them unceremoniously at Nora’s feet.
"The charges were removed three days ago, Victor," Nora said, her voice dropping into a register that made the hair on the back of Victor’s neck stand up. "Dennis and Julian spent forty-eight hours swimming through the pilings while you were busy trying to figure out which cheap motel Cole Maddox was hiding in."
Victor’s face drained of color. He whirled on Croft.
"Press it!" Victor screamed, his aristocratic composure shattering into hysterical terror. "Press the damn switch!"
Croft slammed his thumb down onto the red button.
*Click.*
Nothing happened.
*Click. Click. Click.*
The warehouse remained completely silent, save for the rhythmic lapping of the Hudson against the pilings below.
Victor stared at the dead switch in Croft’s hand.
Slowly, terrifyingly, Victor turned back to face Nora Bellamy.
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"You..." Victor choked, his hands trembling violently. "You knew... from the very beginning."
***