civica

Chapter 6 - The Unraveling Syndicate

I walked down the asphalt lane, tapping my white cane rhythmically against the curb.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

To any onlooker, I was a tragic, helpless blind man lost in the industrial drizzle, stumbling through the mud toward the place where his life had been shattered five years ago.

As I approached the chain-link perimeter gate of Pier 17, two heavy-set guards in black tactical rain jackets stepped out of the security booth. Both carried holstered sidearms.

"Hey! Hold it right there!" one guard shouted, his hand dropping to his belt. "This is private property! State your business!"

I stopped, letting my body sway slightly, making my voice sound weak, confused, and breathless. "Daniel? Daniel, are you in there? The driver... the driver brought me here... he said you needed me to sign something..."

The two guards looked at each other in utter shock.

"Is that... is that Mercer?" the second guard whispered, pulling out his radio. "Boss? We got a situation at Gate 2. Grant Mercer just walked up on foot. He's rambling about paperwork."

A pause echoed over the static-heavy radio transmission. Then Daniel’s voice came through, sharp and furious.

"What the hell is he doing out of the house?! Get him inside! Now! Drive him into Bay 4 before any of the corporate lawyers see him!"

"Copy that, Don." The guard shoved his radio into his pocket and grabbed my arm roughly. "Alright, old man. Easy does it. Let's get you out of the rain."

I let him drag me. I kept my chin low, my eyes half-closed behind my dark lenses, letting them lead me through the heavy steel side door of Warehouse 4.

The moment the door slammed shut behind us, cutting off the sound of the rain, the lights came on.

Warehouse 4 was a massive, cavernous space filled with dusty shipping crates, rusted machinery, and a temporary wooden conference table set up near the center of the concrete floor.

Sitting around the table were three corporate attorneys in tailored suits, a laptop displaying an open notary portal, and stacks of transfer deeds.

Standing at the head of the table were Daniel Cross and Dr. Vernon Hale.

"Grant," Daniel snapped, walking over with fast, agitated strides. "How the hell did you get out of the mansion? Who drove you here?"

I stood in the center of the bay, holding my white cane, keeping my head tilted toward the ceiling as if trying to locate his voice. "I... I took a taxi, Daniel. A man came to the house... he left a letter on my desk. He said you were selling Caroline's dock..."

Dr. Hale stepped forward, his face pale, wiping cold sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. "Daniel... this is bad. If the board finds out he's here—"

"Shut up, Vernon!" Daniel barked. He grabbed my coat lapels, shaking me. "What letter, Grant? Who gave you a letter?"

I let a slow, cold smile creep across my face.

I reached up with my right hand, grabbed Daniel’s wrist, and twisted it downward with terrifying, explosive speed.

CRACK.

Daniel screamed as his wrist dislocated. He dropped to his knees on the hard concrete.

Before the two guards could draw their weapons, I ripped off my dark sunglasses, drew my SIG Sauer from my coat, and fired four lightning-fast shots into the air.

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!

The deafening roars echoed through the steel rafters of the warehouse. muzzle flashes illuminating the dim space.

"STAY DOWN!" I roared, my voice carrying the thunderous, uncompromising authority of the man who had ruled the New York waterfront for fifteen years.

The two guards froze, their hands hovering over their holsters, their eyes wide with absolute, horrifying shock as they looked into my face.

They weren't looking at a blind, broken invalid.

They were looking into the razor-sharp, steel-gray eyes of Grant Mercer—fully sighted, armed, and backed by a cold, deadly rage.

May you like

Daniel clutched his broken wrist on the floor, gasping for air, staring up at me in utter terror. "Your... your eyes... You can see?!"

"I can see everything, Daniel," I said, pointing the barrel of my gun straight between his eyes. "I can see the corporate fraud. I can see the poison in the eye drops. And I can see the man who murdered my family."

Related Stories

Other posts