Chapter 8 - The Siege of Pier 42
Titan didn't bark. He didn't growl.
He simply vanished into the shadows between the shipping containers like a phantom.
Before Vance could react to the dog’s movement, a sharp CRACK echoed through the warehouse as Leo’s sniper rifle shattered the skylight above. The high-caliber bullet struck Vance’s head mercenary directly through the throat, dropping him instantly to the concrete floor.
"Kill them!" Vance screamed in panic, pressing the detonator button.
Nothing happened.
Naomi’s behavioral training extended beyond animals; she had recognized the electronic interference unit Belvin had mounted to the undercarriage of the Maybach before they arrived. The jammer had scrambled every radio signal within a two-hundred-yard radius the moment they stepped out of the car.
"The detonator’s dead!" one of Vance’s men yelled.
All hell broke loose.
Belvin drew his SIG Sauer in a flash of motion, firing three rapid shots that eliminated two mercenaries before they could raise their automatic rifles. He grabbed Naomi by the waist, shoving her behind a heavy steel shipping container just as a hail of automatic gunfire chewed into the metal above their heads.
"Stay down!" Belvin ordered, drawing a second weapon from his belt and leaning out to return fire with lethal, military precision.
From the high rafters above, Titan executed the ambush Naomi had trained him for.
The 140-pound pitbull leapt down from a twelve-foot shipping container, landing directly on top of a mercenary who was advancing on Belvin’s position. The man let out a blood-curdling scream as Titan’s massive jaws locked onto his wrist, shattering the bone and instantly disarming him.
"Dog! Shoot the dog!" another mercenary yelled, swinging his rifle toward Titan.
"Titan, down!" Naomi screamed from behind the container.
Titan dropped flat against the floor just as a burst of 9mm rounds peppered the steel wall behind him. The dog rolled behind a wooden pallet, completely uninjured, keeping the enemy confused and divided.
Belvin utilized the distraction brilliantly. He moved like a shadow through the smoke and muzzle flashes, taking down three more mercenaries in quick succession. The warehouse rang with the deafening roar of gunfire, shattered glass, and the metallic stench of spent gunpowder.
Within four minutes, seven of Vance’s eight men lay dead or incapacitated on the floor.
Julian Vance, realizing the fight was lost, dropped his weapon and sprinted toward the back exit of the warehouse, heading toward a waiting speedboat tied to the dock.
"He’s running!" Naomi yelled, bursting out from behind the container.
"I’ve got him," Belvin growled, reloading his pistol with a fresh magazine.
"No!" Naomi said, grabbing Belvin’s arm. "Look at the water! Leo’s boats are blocking the river!"
Outside on the dock, Vance burst through the heavy double doors into the freezing mist, only to find two of Belvin’s armored patrol boats sitting twenty yards offshore, their searchlights blinding him as heavy caliber machine guns were trained directly on his chest.
Vance skidded to a halt, panting heavily, backed against the edge of the wooden pier.
The heavy warehouse doors swung open behind him.
Belvin walked out into the moonlight, his suit immaculate despite the firefight, his weapon held loosely at his side. Beside him walked Naomi, and at her left flank, trotting calmly with blood dripping from his leather harness—none of it his own—was Titan.
"It’s over, Vance," Belvin said, his voice echoing over the lapping waves of the Hudson River.
Vance backed up until his heels were dangling over the dark water. He pulled a silver pocket knife from his belt, his eyes wild with desperate, cornered insanity.
"You think you’ve won, Santoro?" Vance spat, glaring past Belvin at Naomi. "You think she cares about you? She’s using you! She used you to pay her sister’s bills, and she’ll betray you the second her father comes back!"
Naomi stepped forward, stopping right beside Belvin. Titan pressed his warm shoulder against her hip.
"My father is dead, Julian," Naomi said calmly, her voice devoid of any fear. "You killed him six years ago, didn't you? He didn't run away. He went to your office to confront you, and you buried him."
Vance’s desperate smirk vanished. He didn't deny it.
"He was an accountant who forgot his place," Vance sneered bitterly. "Just like you."
Vance lunged forward with the knife, aiming straight for Naomi’s throat in a final, suicidal attempt to take her with him.
Belvin didn't even raise his gun.
"Titan," Naomi commanded softly. "Hold."
Titan launched forward like a black cannonball. The pitbull struck Vance in the chest mid-stride, the immense kinetic force knocking the knife from Vance's hand and sending him flying backward off the edge of the dock.
A loud splash echoed through the foggy air as Julian Vance hit the freezing, turbulent waters of the Hudson River.
Titan stood at the edge of the pier, peering down into the dark water, letting out one sharp, triumphant bark that echoed across the bay.
Below, Belvin’s patrol boats moved in, their searchlights illuminating Vance as he bobbed in the freezing current, screaming as armed guards hauled him out of the water in heavy chains.
Belvin walked up behind Naomi, wrapping his strong arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. She leaned into him, letting out a long breath she felt like she had been holding for six years.
"Your sister is safe," Belvin whispered into her hair. "Leo just called. The men at the hospital were taken down ten seconds before we entered the warehouse. Maya never even woke up."
Naomi turned in his arms, wrapping her hands around his neck, looking up into his dark, fierce eyes.
"Thank you," she whispered.
May you like
Belvin looked down at her, then glanced down at Titan, who was now sitting patiently at their feet, resting his large head against Belvin’s polished shoe.
"I told you, Naomi," Belvin murmured softly, leaning down to press his lips against hers. "Nobody touches what belongs to Belvin Santoro."
