Chapter 19 - The Counterstrike
The subterranean tunnel opened onto the wooden docks hidden beneath the northern pier. Rain lashed down in freezing sheets, the black harbor waves crashing violently against the pilings.
Maya was already there, the twin diesel engines of our patrol launch purring quietly in the darkness. "Serena! Get in!"
I pushed Chloe onto the boat, then turned back toward the tunnel mouth.
Through the pouring rain, two men in tactical gear emerged onto the dock, their rifles raised. "Step away from the vessel, Ms. Cole! Drop the briefcase!"
Suddenly, the blinding high beams of a heavy industrial forklift ignited twenty yards behind them. With a deafening roar of its diesel engine, the forklift charged forward, smashing directly into the wooden dock between the gunmen and the boat.
Julian leaped from the driver’s cab, tackling the nearest gunman into the churning harbor water with a massive splash. The second gunman spun around to aim, but I didn't hesitate.
I seized the heavy brass boat hook from the dock piling and swung it with all the strength in my body, striking the second attacker across his rifle barrel, knocking the weapon into the dark water. The man lunged for me, his gloved fingers grazing my collar, but Maya threw the boat’s throttle into reverse, the wake throwing him off balance.
Julian surfaced from the black water, hauling himself onto the swim platform at the back of the launch with a fierce, ragged gasp. He grabbed the railing, pulling himself aboard as bullets chewed into the wooden dock behind us.
"Go! Maya, go!" I screamed.
The launch surged forward, slicing through the harbor swell into the open blackness of the bay.
Julian lay on the deck, coughing up seawater, his clothes soaked and torn. I dropped to my knees beside him, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling his shivering frame against mine. "Julian... you're alive."
He looked up at me through the rain, his teeth chattering, but a grim smile touched his lips. "I told you... I wouldn't leave you alone."
Chloe sat huddled in the cabin, weeping uncontrollably.
I reached inside the briefcase. The hard drive was completely intact inside its waterproof casing. I pulled out my satellite phone, dialing the direct line of the Special Agent in Charge of the DOJ's Public Integrity Section.
May you like
"This is Serena Cole," I said, my voice steady as steel against the howling wind. "I have the ledger that brings down the Seventh District Court. And I want the cameras rolling at the Federal Courthouse in one hour."
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