Chapter 7 - Ambush at the Waterfront Warehouses of Boston
Armed with the video evidence, Ethan drove down to the industrial shipping docks along the rain-slicked Boston waterfront.
The leather folder Julian had stolen contained the original land patents for the family's international shipping terminals worth hundreds of millions.
Ethan pulled his vehicle into a shadowed alley behind Warehouse 14, an abandoned maritime facility his brother used to frequent.
Rain lashed against his leather jacket as Ethan pulled a concealed handgun from his holster, checking the chamber with practiced focus.
He slipped through a broken side door, his boots stepping silently over rusty iron pipes and broken glass littering the concrete floor.
Inside the cavernous warehouse, a single hanging light illuminated a wooden table where Julian sat calmly counting thick stacks of bearer bonds.
Two armed bodyguards stood beside him, their hands resting lazily on submachine guns strapped across their tactical vests.
"You always were the predictable son, Ethan," Julian’s deep voice echoed through the vast, empty industrial space.
Ethan stepped out from behind a steel shipping container, his handgun pointed directly at Julian’s chest without a single tremble.
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"Put your hands on the table, Julian, before I put a bullet through your heart," Ethan commanded, his voice cold as ice.
***
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