Chapter 7 - The Trap at Pier 44
The black Escalades slid to a silent, synchronized halt in the shadows of an abandoned industrial warehouse at Pier 44 in Red Hook.
The rain was coming down harder now, drumming a relentless, heavy rhythm against the metal roof of the warehouse. Through the cracked windshield, the dark, churning waters of the East River stretched out into the freezing fog, reflecting the dim, amber glow of distant bridge lights.
Inside the back of the middle SUV, the air was thick with tension.
"Listen to me," Psyian said, turning to Meredith as Marcus unholstered a sleek, suppressed firearm in the front seat. "When we go in there, stay behind me. Do not step into the light. Arthur Vance is a desperate, unhinged animal, and I will not let him lay a hand on you."
Meredith swallowed hard, her heart pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. She looked down at her hand, where she still held the flattened, broken silver sparrow pendant. She closed her fist around it, feeling the sharp edges press into her skin, grounding her.
"I'm not staying behind, Mr. Braxton," Meredith said, her voice steadying with a sudden, fierce resolve that surprised even her. "I spent months sitting with Eileen. I listened to her play imaginary piano sonatas on the park bench. I am not letting anyone hurt her."
Psyian looked at her for a long, silent moment. A faint, ghost of a smile touched the corners of his lips—respect, fierce and undeniable, sparking in his dark eyes.
"All right," he murmured. "Stay close."
The doors of the Escalades flew open in unison. Six armed enforcers fanned out into the dark, rain-soaked concrete apron of the pier, their movements precise and silent. Psyian stepped out into the downpour, his dark coat billowing around him like the wings of a predatory bird. Meredith followed right behind him, her thin coat instantly soaking through, but she didn't care.
They approached the rusted corrugated metal doors of Warehouse 4.
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The heavy padlock had been cut. A single sliver of yellow light cut across the wet pavement from a gap in the sliding doors.
Psyian raised his hand, signaling his men to hold position. Then, with a single, brutal kick of his booted foot, he sent the heavy steel door crashing inward.
