Chapter 9 - Secrets of the Shipyard
The sedan veered sharply off the highway, its tires crunching over loose gravel as it entered the abandoned industrial shipyard district. Massive rusted cranes loomed against the stormy night sky like skeletal giants, their cables groaning in the ocean wind. The only illumination came from the erratic sweeping beams of a distant lighthouse cutting across the dark waters of the bay.
“We’re too close,” the driver muttered, cutting the headlights as the sedan coasted to a halt behind a stack of weathered shipping containers.
Jax opened his door quietly, stepping out into the biting salt spray. The air tasted of rust, fuel, and impending violence. He kept his hand resting near his inner jacket pocket where he kept a heavy steel multi-tool—not a firearm, but enough to level the playing field if things turned physical.
“Stay behind me,” Katherine whispered, pulling a light trench coat tighter around her shoulders as she led the way toward Warehouse 4.
The double doors of the warehouse stood slightly ajar, a sliver of pale yellow light spilling out onto the wet concrete. Inside, the cavernous space echoed with the sound of hollow footsteps and harsh voices bouncing off corrugated tin walls.
Jax crept forward, pressing his back against the rusted exterior wall until he reached the open door. Peering inside, his heart hammered against his ribs.
In the center of the warehouse, tied securely to a wooden chair, was Marcus. His tailored black suit was stained with mud and oil, and a fresh cut bled from his left temple. Standing over him, holding a heavy wrench, was a man whose face Jax hadn't seen in over a decade.
David Vance looked older, his hair completely silver, but the sharp, predatory gleam in his eyes remained entirely unchanged.
“You always were a weak link, Marcus,” David said, his voice echoing off the metal rafters. “You couldn't even manage a simple financial transfer without getting Eleanor caught by the federal authorities.”
“I didn't talk,” Marcus groaned, spitting blood onto the concrete floor. “The cops found the chemical residue on their own! Eleanor panicked the second Jax walked into the room!”
“Eleanor was always a liability,” a familiar, chilling voice echoed from the shadows near the back of the warehouse.
Jax’s breath caught in his throat as another figure stepped into the light. It wasn't just David and Marcus.
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Stepping out from the darkness, adjusting the cuffs of her immaculate gold beaded dress as if she had never even been arrested, was Eleanor.
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