Chapter 8 - Pier Nineteen
By noon, NCIS confirmed Oliver had been taken from his school bus stop.
The security camera showed a black utility van blocking the road. Two masked men pulled the boy inside before his grandparents could reach him.
Celeste watched the footage once.
Then she turned away and vomited into a trash can.
Oliver was not her biological child, but she had raised him since he was three. I had never met him. During the years I remained absent, Celeste sent no photographs and offered no invitation.
Yet a child’s life did not depend on whether his stepmother had loved me well.
Agent Brooks organized surveillance around Pier Nineteen, an abandoned commercial terminal north of the city. Sloane had chosen a location surrounded by warehouses, rusting cranes, and deep water.
“He expects a tactical response,” Brooks said. “We need to make him believe you are alone.”
“I will be.”
“No.”
“He asked for me.”
“And we are not allowing a Navy captain to walk unprotected into an ambush.”
Daniel studied the terminal map.
“There are storm drains beneath the western warehouse.”
Brooks glared at him. “You are also not conducting an unauthorized infiltration.”
“I spent five years inside Meridian.”
“And burned your cover last night.”
“Then I’m available.”
Admiral Keating entered.
He had changed into a dark suit, but the weariness in his eyes remained.
“Captain Harrington will make the exchange.”
Celeste stood.
“Admiral—”
“She will wear a transmitter. Tactical teams will cover every exit. Commander Cross will enter through the storm drain with Agent Brooks.”
I looked at him.
“You planned this before entering.”
“I have known you too long to imagine you would stay behind.”
Celeste approached me.
“I should go.”
“No.”
“He’s my son.”
“And Sloane wants information from me.”
“I can distract him.”
“You can panic him.”
Her face twisted.
“That is cruel.”
“It is also true.”
She stepped closer.
“You still think I’m useless.”
“No. I think you’re terrified and untrained. Those are dangerous conditions in a hostage exchange.”
She wanted to argue, but the truth stopped her.
I touched her shoulder.
“Let me bring him back.”
“Why would you do that for me?”
“I’m not doing it for you.”
The answer hurt her.
I continued more gently.
“I’m doing it because he’s seven.”
At five forty, Brooks fitted a transmitter beneath my shirt. I carried no visible weapon. A compact pistol rested in an ankle holster, more reassurance than strategy.
Daniel waited near the storm-drain entrance.
Before we separated, he handed me a small metal object.
My old command coin.
One side bore the crest of the Resolute. The other carried the words:
STEADY IN THE STORM.
“I found it in your cabin after the attack,” he said.
“You kept it?”
“I expected to return it sooner.”
I closed my fingers around the coin.
“Try not to die again.”
“I found the first time inconvenient.”
At six precisely, I walked onto Pier Nineteen.
Wind pushed fog across the terminal. Water struck the concrete supports below.
A single floodlight illuminated the end of the pier.
Oliver sat in a metal chair beneath it.
His hands were tied, but he appeared uninjured. A red-haired man stood behind him holding a pistol.
Commander Victor Sloane emerged from the warehouse.
He was older than I remembered, with silver at his temples and a slight limp. He wore no mask.
“Captain Harrington.”
“Release the boy.”
“First, the sequence.”
“You don’t understand what you’re asking for.”
“I understand perfectly. The countermeasure can break secure tracking systems. Governments will pay billions.”
“It was designed during an emergency. It may not work again.”
“Then why did Naval Research reconstruct it?”
That information was classified above my access level.
Someone inside the Navy was still working with him.
“Who is your source?”
Sloane smiled.
“You always asked the correct question too late.”
Oliver looked at me.
“Are you Aunt Evelyn?”
The title caught me off guard.
Celeste had told him about me.
“Yes.”
“Mom said you’re a captain.”
“I am.”
“Are you going to rescue me?”
Sloane pressed his pistol against the boy’s shoulder.
“Careful.”
I kept my gaze on Oliver.
“Yes,” I said. “But I need you to be brave for a few more minutes.”
The boy nodded.
Sloane held out a tablet.
“Enter the sequence.”
I approached slowly.
The tablet displayed a simulation of a naval tracking network.
I began entering numbers.
Not the real sequence.
A modified string that would trigger a diagnostic delay if Meridian tested it.
Sloane watched my hands.
“Your pulse is elevated.”
“A child has a gun pointed at him.”
“You were calmer when missiles struck your ship.”
“You weren’t there.”
“No. I was watching.”
The confession turned my blood cold.
“You monitored the attack live.”
“I designed it.”
In my earpiece, Brooks whispered, “We heard him. Keep talking.”
“Fourteen sailors died.”
“They were necessary casualties.”
Oliver began crying.
I continued typing.
“Why target the Resolute?”
“To demonstrate the technology.”
“To whom?”
“A client.”
“Which client?”
“You don’t need that information.”
“I need the final encryption family. The sequence changes depending on the tracking platform.”
Sloane hesitated.
He wanted the code badly enough to answer.
“European architecture. Modified Aegis derivative.”
Brooks now had enough to narrow the system.
I entered the last number.
“Done.”
Sloane examined the tablet.
The red-haired guard pulled Oliver to his feet.
“Let him go,” I said.
Sloane smiled.
“You know I can’t.”
A suppressed shot sounded from the warehouse roof.
The floodlight shattered.
Darkness swallowed the pier.
I dropped.
Gunfire erupted.
Oliver screamed.
Through my earpiece, Brooks shouted, “Move!”
I crawled toward the chair as bullets struck the concrete.
The red-haired guard grabbed Oliver and dragged him toward the warehouse.
I tackled the man’s legs.
He fell, losing his grip on the boy.
“Run!” I shouted.
Oliver sprinted toward the pier entrance.
A tactical agent emerged from cover and pulled him behind a barrier.
The guard struck me across the face.
I rolled, drew the pistol from my ankle, and fired into the concrete beside his hand.
“Don’t.”
He froze.
Behind me, Sloane ran toward a speedboat tied beneath the pier.
Daniel emerged from the storm-drain access and pursued him.
“Cross!” Sloane fired twice.
Daniel dove behind a support column.
Sloane jumped onto the boat and started the engine.
I left the guard to Brooks’s team and ran.
The boat pulled from the pier.
Daniel leaped from the lower platform and landed on its rear deck.
Sloane turned, raising his weapon.
The boat vanished into the fog.
May you like
A single shot echoed across the water.
Then silence.
