At that moment, the headlight of Derek’s car flared to life.

Someone was inside the vehicle.

The bright white high beams cut through the fog, blinding the gunmen.

A loud gunshot echoed across the water.

A bullet chipped the wood near my head.

I pulled my knees to my chest.

The air smelled of salt, blood, and gunpowder.

I looked through the gap in the wooden crates.

Vincent was moving toward the cover of a steel container.

Derek was crawling toward the back of the car, trying to use it as a shield.

The gunmen began to fire rapidly.

The deafening noise of automatic gunfire filled the night.

Bullets tore through the wooden dock, sending splinters flying.

One splinter sliced across my cheek.

I pressed my hand to the cut, feeling the warm blood.

The radio on the dead guard’s belt crackled again.

“The perimeter is secure,” the voice said.

“Nobody leaves this dock alive.”

I realized we were trapped.

The estate gates were locked behind us.

The water was in front of us, filled with enemy boats.

And the men on the dock wanted everyone dead.