Chapter 6 - THE DEAD MAN'S FUNERAL
Marcus could have run.
Ten years earlier, he would have.
Five years earlier, he would have created a distraction, disappeared through the river tunnels, and made sure every camera between the warehouse and Canada stopped working before sunrise.
Tonight he looked at Sadie.
Then Rachel.
Then the people being led out of locked rooms.
And he put his gun on the floor.
“Marcus,” Jonah whispered.
“Take them.”
“What?”
“Take Rachel and Sadie.”
“You'll be arrested.”
“Yes.”
Jonah stared as if the bullet had damaged Marcus's brain.
Marcus raised his hands.
“Go.”
Federal agents rushed him.
They forced him down.
His wounded side struck the concrete.
Pain exploded.
Sadie screamed.
“Stop! He's hurt!”
One agent cuffed Marcus.
Another kicked the gun away.
Saint barked so violently three weapons turned toward him.
Marcus's voice thundered through the warehouse.
“Sadie!”
She froze.
“Hold him.”
“But—”
“Hold Saint.”
She wrapped both arms around the dog's neck.
“Stay.”
Saint trembled but obeyed.
Marcus looked at the agents.
“He doesn't attack unless someone threatens her.”
A woman in an FBI jacket approached.
“Marcus Cole?”
“You already know.”
“Special Agent Rebecca Shaw.”
“Congratulations.”
She crouched.
“You're supposed to be dead.”
“Busy night.”
“You want an attorney?”
“Yes.”
“Name?”
“Daniel Foster.”
Shaw's expression changed slightly.
Foster wasn't a mob attorney.
He was a former federal prosecutor.
Marcus had retained him years ago for legitimate business matters.
“Interesting choice.”
Marcus looked at the cages.
“Interesting evening.”
They took him away.
By nine in the morning, every major network had footage from Pier Fourteen.
By ten, reporters had connected the warehouse to Cole Maritime Logistics.
By eleven, commentators were openly asking whether Marcus Cole had been running a trafficking operation under the cover of organized crime.
At noon, Victor held Marcus's funeral.
No body.
Closed casket.
Three hundred people.
Every captain in the organization attended.
So did politicians who would later pretend they hadn't.
Victor stood before the church and gave a speech about loyalty.
Jonah watched from the third row.
Elena Cole sat in the front.
She wore black.
Her face showed nothing.
Victor touched her shoulder when he returned to his seat.
Elena flinched.
Jonah saw it.
So did Victor.
“You all right?” Victor whispered.
Elena looked at him.
“My father hated lilies.”
Victor glanced at the flowers covering the casket.
“I thought they were elegant.”
“He said they smelled like hospitals.”
Victor smiled.
“You remember everything.”
“I remember enough.”
After the service, Victor took her to the Cole estate.
For protection.
That was the word he used.
Protection.
Elena knew imprisonment when she saw it.
Six guards.
Her phone gone.
Windows locked.
One vehicle at the entrance.
She had grown up around men who confused control with love.
She knew the architecture.
Meanwhile Marcus sat in a federal interview room downtown.
His wound had been treated.
His wrists were cuffed to the table.
Daniel Foster entered carrying two coffees.
“You look terrible.”
Marcus sighed.
“Helen said the same thing.”
“She has better bedside manners.”
“She doesn't.”
Daniel sat.
“You understand your situation?”
“Victor framed me.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Marcus leaned back.
Daniel opened a folder.
“The warehouse lease runs through a company you own.”
“I know.”
“The security firm is paid by another company you own.”
“I know.”
“Vehicles registered to a third company you own have been moving through Pier Fourteen every Thursday for eleven months.”
Marcus stared.
“That I didn't know.”
Daniel pushed photographs across the table.
Marcus recognized the trucks.
“Those operate out of my south terminal.”
“Correct.”
“Who signed?”
“Digitally? You.”
Marcus laughed bitterly.
“Victor.”
“Can you prove that?”
“No.”
“Then we have a problem.”
Marcus looked through the photographs.
“Rachel Quinn.”
“What about her?”
“She has records.”
“She told agents the same thing.”
“Where is she?”
“Protective custody.”
“And Sadie?”
“With her.”
Marcus breathed easier.
“Saint?”
Daniel frowned.
“The dog?”
“Yes.”
“I didn't ask.”
“Ask.”
Daniel stared at him.
“You're facing enough federal charges to die in prison and you're asking me about a dog.”
“He saved my life.”
Daniel wrote something on a legal pad.
“What?”
“Dog.”
Marcus glared.
Daniel continued.
“There is good news.”
“Surprise me.”
“Agent Shaw doesn't fully believe the case against you.”
“Why?”
“Because people who operate trafficking warehouses generally don't personally release the victims and wait for law enforcement.”
“People say I've become eccentric.”
“Also, Rachel corroborates parts of your story.”
“Parts?”
“She doesn't trust you.”
“Healthy.”
“She says Evan Quinn believed Victor killed Anthony.”
Marcus went quiet.
Daniel studied him.
“You didn't know?”
“No.”
“That matters?”
“It matters to me.”
Daniel closed the folder.
“There is something else.”
He pushed a tablet across the table.
Live footage outside the church.
Marcus's funeral.
Victor greeting mourners.
Then Marcus saw Elena.
His entire posture changed.
Daniel noticed.
“They know she's there.”
“Get her out.”
“Marcus—”
“Now.”
“She's an adult.”
“She is a hostage.”
“You have proof?”
“My cousin tried to execute me yesterday.”
“Not legally useful.”
Marcus hit the table.
The cuff chain snapped tight.
Daniel didn't move.
“Elena hasn't answered anyone since last night.”
Marcus stared.
“What?”
“Her office. Her friends. Her building manager.”
“Why didn't you start with that?”
“Because I needed you thinking instead of reacting.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“Listen carefully. Victor will not kill Elena unless he believes I have something he cannot control.”
Daniel nodded toward the recovered voice recorder in an evidence bag.
“Like that?”
Marcus looked at it.
“There's more.”
“What?”
“The laptop.”
“Victor's men took it.”
“They think they did.”
Daniel frowned.
Marcus smiled faintly.
“Evan Quinn was an accountant who thought three steps ahead.”
“Meaning?”
“The laptop in the locker was too easy.”
Marcus remembered Evan.
Obsessive.
Careful.
He never kept the real set of books where he kept the copy.
“Rachel knows where the second set is.”
Daniel shook his head.
“She says she doesn't.”
“Then Sadie does.”
“How would a nine-year-old know?”
“She has something.”
“What?”
“I don't know yet.”
Daniel stared.
“That is not useful.”
“Get me five minutes with them.”
“Impossible.”
“Then make it possible.”
Two hours later Agent Shaw entered.
She carried Saint's old broken chain in a plastic evidence bag.
Marcus looked at it.
“Where did you get that?”
“Pier Fourteen.”
She sat.
“We found blood on it.”
“Dog's?”
“Some.”
She pushed a report toward him.
“Some human.”
Marcus read the name.
Thomas Reed.
The guard Rachel mentioned.
Shaw continued.
“Reed was a retired police officer.”
Marcus looked up.
“Police?”
“K-9 unit.”
Marcus understood.
Saint hadn't been a stray.
He had been trained.
“Was Saint his dog?”
“Not officially.”
Shaw nodded.
“Reed adopted him after a rescue from an illegal fighting operation two years ago.”
Marcus looked at the ceiling.
That explained the discipline.
The commands.
The way Saint created space instead of attacking blindly.
“What happened to Reed?”
“We believe he discovered the warehouse.”
“And Victor killed him.”
“We're investigating.”
Marcus handed the report back.
Shaw studied him.
“You've done bad things.”
“Yes.”
“You say that easily.”
“I'd sound stupid pretending otherwise.”
“You expect me to believe you didn't know what was happening at Pier Fourteen?”
“No.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I expect you to prove whether I knew.”
“That confidence?”
“No.”
Marcus's voice lowered.
“Responsibility.”
Shaw waited.
Marcus continued.
“I built the system Victor used. I built companies nobody questioned. I paid men who followed orders without asking where the orders came from.”
“You're admitting criminal conduct.”
“My attorney is going to have an aneurysm.”
“Probably.”
“But I didn't build cages.”
Shaw watched him.
“And if I believe you?”
“Then help me get Elena.”
Shaw leaned back.
“You don't get to direct an FBI investigation.”
“No.”
Marcus looked through the glass.
“But Victor thinks I do.”
That interested her.
“What are you proposing?”
“Release the news that I'm cooperating.”
Daniel nearly choked.
Shaw stared.
“Excuse me?”
“Tell the press Marcus Cole is talking.”
“That could put your daughter in more danger.”
“Not if Victor needs to know what I've said.”
“What have you said?”
“Nothing.”
Marcus smiled coldly.
“That is what will frighten him.”
Across the city, twenty minutes later, Victor watched the breaking-news banner.
MARCUS COLE ALIVE — REPORTEDLY COOPERATING WITH FEDERAL INVESTIGATORS.
The glass in his hand cracked.
Elena sat across the room.
She saw the blood run down his palm.
Victor looked at her.
“Your father always did love drama.”
Elena smiled for the first time all day.
“You're scared.”
Victor's face hardened.
“Of Marcus?”
“No.”
She leaned forward.
“Of what he knows.”
Victor stood.
Elena's smile disappeared.
He walked toward her.
“Your father doesn't know half as much as he thinks.”
“Then why are you bleeding?”
Victor looked at his hand.
Then laughed.
“You really are his daughter.”
He turned to Ray.
“Prepare the house.”
Ray nodded.
“For what?”
Victor looked toward the gates.
“For Marcus.”
Elena frowned.
“He's in federal custody.”
Victor smiled.
“Not for long.”
At the FBI building, a guard opened Marcus's holding-room door.
“Your daughter's on the phone.”
Marcus rose.
The call came through an untraceable line.
“Elena?”
Silence.
Then her voice.
“Dad.”
He closed his eyes.
It had been months since she'd called him that.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Where are you?”
“I don't know exactly.”
A man's voice spoke faintly behind her.
Victor.
Elena rushed.
“He wants the girl, Dad.”
“I know.”
“Don't.”
Marcus froze.
Elena began crying quietly.
“Whatever he says, don't trade that child for me.”
The line went dead.
Marcus stared at the phone.
Agent Shaw stood in the doorway.
“You heard?”
“Yes.”
“What now?”
Marcus handed back the receiver.
“Now Victor learns something he should've understood years ago.”
“What?”
Marcus looked at her.
“My daughter knows exactly what kind of man I was.”
May you like
He stepped toward the door.
“And she's asking me to become someone else.”
