Chapter 4 - The Reunion in the Shadows
The heavy yellow steel container hit the concrete dock with a deep, echoing THUD that vibrated through my boots.
I dropped from the crane ladder before it had even finished settling, sprinting across the rain-slicked apron toward the rear doors of the crate.
Four heavy steel locking bars held the double doors shut.
"Marcus! Crowbars! Bolt cutters!" I yelled, throwing my weight against the cold metal lever.
Marcus and three of my men rushed forward, jamming heavy steel tools into the hinges. With a collective roar of physical effort, they torqued the rusted locking mechanism until the heavy iron rivets snapped like dry twigs.
The right door swung open with a harsh metallic screech.
Darkness pooled inside the windowless steel box. The air that rushed out was stale, hot, and smelled faintly of rust and industrial grease.
I stepped inside, pulling a high-powered tactical flashlight from my belt, sweeping the beam across the vast, empty interior.
In the far back corner, curled into a tiny ball behind a stack of wooden pallets, was a small, shivering figure.
Light brown hair, wet with sweat. A oversized blue sweater clutching tightly around his small frame.
He was shielding his face from the bright light with a tiny arm, his entire body trembling violently.
"Leo..." I whispered, my voice breaking in a way it hadn't in twenty years.
I dropped the flashlight onto the floor, letting the beam bounce softly off the wall, and dropped to my knees as I approached him.
The six-year-old boy cowered back against the corrugated metal wall, his tiny chest heaving with shallow, panicked breaths. In his right hand, squeezed so tightly his knuckles were white, was a small, scratched blue plastic toy car.
"Don't hurt me..." Leo choked out, his voice a faint, raspy squeak. "I was good... I stayed quiet..."
The sheer cruelty of those words pierced my heart deeper than any bullet ever could.
"Nobody is ever going to hurt you again, Leo," I said softly, stopping three feet away from him so I wouldn't startle him. I slowly reached into my pocket, pulling out a matching object I had kept in my vest since rescuing Jasper five days ago.
A tiny yellow plastic toy car.
Leo’s eyes slowly opened. He looked from his blue car to my yellow car, then up into my face.
"Jasper?" Leo whispered, his lower lip beginning to quiver. "Where's Jasper?"
"He's outside," I said, tears burning the corners of my eyes as I extended my arms toward him. "He's waiting for you, little guy. I came to take you home."
Leo didn't hesitate. He scrambled out from behind the wooden pallets, throwing his tiny body directly into my chest.
I gathered him up into my arms, lifting him off the cold steel floor, holding his small head against my neck as he broke into heavy, hysterical sobs. I wrapped my heavy tactical coat around his shivering body, standing up and walking out of the dark container into the grey morning light.
As I stepped onto the dock, Jasper was running toward us, breaking free from Marcus's gentle grip.
"LEO!" Jasper cried out over the sound of rain.
I crouched down on the wet concrete, holding Leo out.
Leo slipped from my arms, and the two twin brothers threw their arms around each other, tumbling onto the wet dock in a messy, tearful embrace. They held each other by the shoulders, touching each other's faces, checking to make sure the other was real.
"You have your car!" Jasper sobbed, pulling his own yellow car from his pocket.
"He brought it to me!" Leo pointed at me, his face covered in rain and tears. "The big man brought it!"
Jasper looked up at me, his green eyes filled with an absolute, unshakeable trust that made every drop of blood in my body swear an oath.
He walked over, grabbed my large hand, and pulled it toward Leo’s small hand.
"This is Mr. Vance, Leo," Jasper told his brother solemnly. "He doesn't let bad people touch us."
I looked down at the two identical boys sitting together on the rain-washed dock, their small hands wrapped around mine.
Behind us, my men were loading Director Wallace and Viktor Moretti into the back of a police van, surrounded by federal agents who had finally arrived to secure the scene.
Marcus walked up beside me, holding an umbrella over the boys.
"What are your orders, Boss?" Marcus asked softly. "The media is already assembling at the precinct. The Governor’s office is calling."
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I picked up both boys, one in each arm, holding them tight against my chest.
"Tell the Governor that the Sterling twins are in my custody," I said, my voice turning to unbreakable granite. "And tell anyone who wants to question that decision... they can come discuss it with me personally."
