Bullets tore through the wooden crates, sending splinters flying into the air like shrapnel.

One splinter sliced across my cheek, leaving a hot line of pain.

I wiped the blood away with the back of my hand, barely feeling it.

We reached Romano’s armored SUV, which was parked near the dark edge of the pier.

The rear window was already shattered from a stray bullet.

“Get him in the back,” I said, keeping my eyes on the dark spaces between the containers.

Romano hauled Marcus into the leather back seat.

Marcus groaned, his boots kicking weakly against the doorframe.

I climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key.

The engine roared to life, a reassuring vibration through the steering wheel.

I slammed the vehicle into reverse just as a volley of bullets peppered the hood.

Steam began to hiss from the radiator, but the engine held.

I spun the wheel, shifting into drive, and floored the accelerator.

We smashed through a temporary chain-link gate, the metal screaming against the bumper.

The lights of the harbor faded into the dark curtain of the downpour behind us.