Chapter 11: Inside the Warehouse
The interior of the Pier 42 processing plant was a labyrinth of rusted machinery, decaying wooden crates, and hanging plastic strips. Water dripped steadily from the rusted corrugated iron roof, splashing into puddles on the concrete floor with hollow echoes.
Jax moved like a shadow, hugging the wall and utilizing every patch of darkness. His trench coat was soaked through, but he felt neither the cold nor the wet. His entire focus was locked onto the flickering light coming from the second-floor office overlooking the main floor.
Two guards stood near the central freight elevator, smoking cigarettes and speaking in low murmurs. They didn't hear Jax approach until it was far too late. With swift, merciless efficiency, Jax stepped out from behind a stack of pallets, neutralizing both men with silent precision before they could even draw their weapons. He lowered their unconscious bodies gently to the concrete floor, stripping a keycard from one of their tactical vests.
He pressed the call button for the freight elevator, stepping inside as the heavy metal doors slid shut. The lift groaned as it ascended to the second floor, the cables shuddering with age.
When the doors opened at the top, Jax stepped out onto an open metal catwalk that overlooked the vast expanse of the lower floor. Standing twenty feet away, leaning against the railing outside the main office door, was Marcus Sterling.
Sterling was dressed in an immaculate charcoal suit, looking entirely out of place in the derelict warehouse. He held a glass of amber whiskey in one hand, swirling the ice cubes lazily as he turned to face Jax.
"Vance," Sterling smiled, taking a slow sip. "I have to hand it to you. You always were remarkably hard to kill. The bridge was supposed to finish you cleanly."
"You made a mistake bringing her into this, Marcus," Jax said, his voice echoing across the metal grating. He kept his pistol down, resting at his side, but his stance was coiled like a spring.
"Did I?" Sterling chuckled, raising an eyebrow. He gestured with his glass toward the heavy oak door behind him. "She's right in there, safe and sound. Unharmed. For now. But your little empire, Jax? That belongs to me. Sign the asset transfer papers sitting on that desk, and you both walk out of here. Refuse, and this warehouse becomes your permanent tomb."
May you like
Jax took a slow step forward, his dark eyes locked onto Sterling's smug expression. "You think this is about the company, Marcus? You never understood what real power is."
"Enlighten me," Sterling sneered, setting his glass down on a rusted railing.
