Chapter 7 - The Trade at the Docks
Before Vincent could make a decision, his private satellite phone rang. The caller ID was restricted. He answered, putting it on speaker.
"Mr. Caruso," Julian Vance’s smooth voice sounded through the line. He was no longer in the basement; his people had apparently staged a breakout at Romano’s while Vincent was at the apartment. "I believe you have something that belongs to us, and we have something that belongs to your brother. Let’s make a final, clean trade. Warehouse 14 at the south docks. Bring the girl, the backpack, and the recorder. You have two hours. If I see a single federal agent, Frank’s daughters will become familiar with the bottom of the lake."
The line went dead.
Frank fell to his knees, weeping openly. "Vincent, please... save my girls. I’ll go to prison. I’ll take the fall for everything. Just don't let them hurt my children."
Vincent looked down at his brother, his heart hardening into an unbreakable diamond of resolve. He looked at Marco. "Get the trucks ready. We’re going to the docks."
"What about Sophia, Boss?" Marco asked.
"She stays here with Luisa and six of our best men," Vincent said. He walked upstairs to the small bedroom where Sophia was awake, coloring a picture of a butterfly with a pink crayon.
He knelt beside her, taking her small hand in his. "Sophia, I have to go finish the work your mama started. I want you to promise me something."
"What, Vincent?"
"No matter what happens, no matter what you hear on the news, you remember that your mama was right. Bad men only win when good people are scared. And I’m not scared anymore."
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Sophia threw her tiny arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "Come back, Vincent. Please."
"I’ll try, sweetheart," he whispered, kissing her forehead.
