Chapter 16 - The Serpent’s Tongue
The rain had turned into a full-scale gale by the time they reached the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Pier 42 was dark, save for the bright halogen lights illuminating a 150-foot luxury yacht straining against its mooring lines.
Eleanor Sterling stood on the upper deck, wrapped in a fur coat, watching her remaining crew load heavy aluminum cases into the hold. Her face was hollow, aged ten years in twenty-four hours, but her eyes retained the vicious glint of a predator.
"You really thought you could destroy me, Arthur?" she yelled into the wind, thinking of the man who had laid the trap for her.
"Arthur is dead," a voice called out from the dark pier below.
Eleanor leaned over the railing. Standing under the glare of a high-mast work light was David, holding the black flash drive high in his hand.
"Everything you built is gone, Eleanor," David shouted above the roar of the wind and rain. "Your bank accounts are frozen. Your name is a synonym for corruption on every news channel in the Western hemisphere. You have nowhere left to run."
May you like
Eleanor let out a high, hysterical laugh that was swallowed by the gale. "You think numbers on a screen matter, David? Power isn't money. Power is the willingness to do what others deem unthinkable!"
She snapped her fingers. From behind the shipping containers lining the dock, six heavily armed men stepped into the light, their weapons trained directly on David’s chest.
