The charge detonates.
The rusted leg of the crane shears off. The massive steel structure groans—a sound like a dying leviathan—and begins to tilt.
It falls in slow motion.
It crashes down across the shipyard entrance, crushing the hood of the lead Escalade and blocking the gate completely with tons of twisted metal.
Nikolai screams, scrambling back as the car is flattened mere feet from him.
He is trapped.
The dust clears slowly.
Silence falls over the yard. The shooting has stopped. The guards are dead or fled.
There is only the crackle of fires starting in the debris and the heavy, wet breathing of men.
I jump down from the container, landing in a crouch on the asphalt. I draw my gun.
Silas emerges from the smoke on the other side. He is bleeding from a cut on his forehead, blood masking one eye, making him look like a demon rising from hell. His gun is raised.
Nikolai stands between us.
His white coat is ruined, covered in dust and oil. He looks from me to Silas. He realizes he is surrounded.
He raises his gun toward me.
"Drop it," Silas says. His voice is quiet. terrifying.
Nikolai hesitates. His hand shakes.
"You took everything," Nikolai whispers, staring at Silas. "My money. My city."
"You tried to take my wife," Silas says.
Nikolai laughs. It’s a broken, manic sound. "Your wife? She is a whore you bought to pay a debt."
Silas doesn't shoot. He lowers his gun slightly.
He looks at me.
"Ivy," he says.
I look at him. I know what he’s doing. He’s giving me the choice. He’s giving me the kill.
I walk forward. My boots crunch on the glass.
I stop ten feet from Nikolai.
"I’m not a whore," I say calmly. "And I wasn't bought."
I raise the Glock. I aim at his chest.
"I was chosen."
Nikolai sneers. He swings his gun toward me.
I don't flinch. I don't close my eyes. I see the front sight. I see the target.
