Chapter 9 — The Last Thing He Could Destroy

I reached the ladder and stopped.

Thomas had a head start, a wounded shoulder, and nowhere left to go except the water.

Lily was still on the warehouse floor.

I looked back at her.

“The loading door has a manual release beside it. Don’t touch the box near the terminal. Find a phone and call emergency services. Tell them there are injured people inside.”

“You’re going after him.”

“I’m going to stop him leaving with another way to hurt us.”

She glanced toward Camila.

“And her?”

“Keep clear. Tell the police where she is.”

Camila heard us.

“Matteo, help me.”

Her voice was suddenly familiar again. No contempt. No triumph. Just the tone she used when she wanted something from me.

I looked at the weapon on the floor beyond her reach.

“Stay where you are. Someone is coming.”

“Don’t leave me with her.”

Lily straightened.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

Camila looked away first.

Sophia waited at the ladder.

“We need to move.”

I climbed after her, keeping my gun close to my chest. Halfway up, my injured arm weakened. I stopped long enough to find a better hold.

Sophia looked down.

“Can you make it?”

“Keep going.”

She remained there until I reached the next rung.

Together, we emerged through the hatch.

Rain struck my face. Wind dragged at my coat, and the roof shone beneath the terminal lights across the river.

Thomas was moving toward the north edge. He had taken a handgun from one of the fallen men before climbing out. It hung in his uninjured hand.

Sophia raised her pistol.

“Thomas. Stop.”

He glanced back but kept moving.

A metal bridge connected the warehouse roof to the crane service platform. Beyond it, an access ladder descended toward a narrow landing above the water.

The boat engine idled below.

I could see no one at the controls.

“Did he arrange a driver?” I asked.

“He doesn’t trust anyone with his way out,” Sophia said.

We followed along the raised seam between roof sections, where the surface gave us better footing. Thomas reached the bridge and stumbled against the rail.

He turned with the gun raised.

I pulled Sophia behind a ventilation housing.

His shot struck the metal above us.

“Don’t come any closer!”

I moved to the other side of the housing. From there, I had a clear view of his chest.

He had nowhere to hide on the bridge.

“Put it down,” I said.

Thomas looked from me to Sophia.

“You brought him after me.”

She stepped out far enough for him to see her.

“You’re not leaving like this.”

“You think there’s another way?”

“There are people coming. You can put down the gun and let them help you.”

He gave a short laugh.

“Help me.”

Blood dripped from his sleeve onto the bridge.

Sophia pulled a clean strip of lining from the tear in her uniform.

“Press this against your shoulder,” she said. “You can take it if you put down the gun.”

Thomas stared at the cloth.

For a moment, he looked bewildered. He had been ready for her anger, for my weapon, for the approaching police. He had no answer for an offer to stop his bleeding.

“You don’t have to prove anything,” he told her.

“I’m not proving anything. You’re bleeding.”

She placed the strip on the edge of the ventilation housing, where he could reach it if he came toward us.

He stayed on the bridge.

“You need a doctor,” she said.

“I needed you to trust me.”

Sophia stopped beside the housing. She was exposed enough to speak to him, but she kept her weapon low and ready.

“I trusted you for eight months. You know exactly what you did with that.”

The first siren sounded beyond the gate.

Thomas glanced toward the road.

I advanced two steps while his attention was elsewhere.

He swung the gun back toward me.

I aimed at his chest.

“Don’t,” Sophia said.

She moved into the space between us before I could stop her.

I shifted my aim away from her shoulder.

“Sophia. Move aside.”

“Give him a chance to put it down.”

Thomas smiled behind her.

“You see? She knows what you are.”

“I know what both of you have done,” she said without looking back.

His smile disappeared.

“Then why are you standing there?”

“Because I don’t want either of you to do this.”

The siren drew closer. Another answered it from the road running along the waterfront.

Below us, the boat rocked against its lines. Thomas looked down toward it and shifted his weight.

I saw him judge the distance to the ladder.

“You won’t reach it,” I said.

“You can’t fire through her.”

“She won’t stay there forever.”

Sophia glanced back at me.

Rain had washed the blood from her chin, but her lip was swollen. I could still see the mark where Thomas had struck her.

“I’m not asking you to let him escape,” she said. “I’m asking you to let him live.”

I kept the gun raised.

“Those are different things. Make sure he understands that.”

She turned toward her brother.

“Put your weapon on the bridge. Slowly.”

Thomas looked at her for several seconds.

Then he lowered the pistol.

He placed it on the wet steel and kicked it toward us.

Sophia stepped aside. I covered him while she moved forward and collected it.

For the first time since we entered the warehouse, he stood in front of us without a gun.

It should have felt like a victory.

Instead, I watched his free hand disappear inside his coat.

“Keep your hand where I can see it,” I said.

He withdrew a small black transmitter.

A red light blinked against his palm.

Sophia stopped.

“Thomas.”

“Nobody takes anything from me tonight.”

I thought of the control box. The relay. The pipe leading into the fuel service enclosure.

His insurance.

“What have you done?” Sophia asked.

Thomas held the transmitter where we could both see it.

“Enough.”

The warehouse hatch stood open behind us. Lily was somewhere below, finding a phone, moving toward the doors, trying to do what I had asked.

I could not reach her before his thumb moved.

“Your sister is here,” I told him.

He looked at Sophia.

“She chose to be.”

Sophia’s shoulders lowered slightly. I saw her understand that he was prepared to kill her too.

“You can still stop,” she said.

Thomas shook his head.

A sweep of blue light crossed the roof. Vehicles were entering the terminal road beyond the gate.

He looked toward the lights, then back at me.

“You wanted to destroy your empire.”

His thumb settled over the switch.

“You don’t get to choose what survives it.”

He pressed the button.