“It was nice meeting you, Agent Vargas,” he said. “The Director says he will handle your paperwork personally.”

He stepped into the back seat.

The door closed with a heavy, solid thud.

The armed men began to move into their shooting positions.

I drew my gun.

In the distance, the high-rise buildings of the corporate headquarters glinted through the heavy downpour.

The red light on the crane blinked once more.

The first shot chipped the rusted edge of the blue container above Marcus’s head.

A shower of orange sparks fell through the rain.

Marcus did not flinch, but his eyes went wide as the second bullet caught him in the right shoulder.

The impact spun him around, throwing his back against the wet steel.

“Down!” I screamed, lunging forward to grab the collar of his coat.

The docks erupted into a deafening roar of gunfire.

Romano was already moving, his old knees protesting as he dove behind a stack of wooden pallets.

His revolver barked twice, the heavy rounds shattering the windshield of the departing sedan.