Chapter 8 - Blood on the Wire
Z
The rain felt like needles against my skin as I ducked behind a row of parked tractor-trailers, moving silently toward the concrete block structure that housed the Pier 9 communications terminal.
The building was dark, save for the blue strobe of a backup power generator humming inside.
I checked my surroundings. The high-tension power cables rattled violently in the wind above my head. The harbor was a graveyard of shadows, rust, and iron.
As I reached the side door of the terminal building, a shadow detached itself from the gloom behind a transformer unit.
"I knew you were smart, Megan," Charles's voice drifted through the storm, calm and agonizingly familiar. "Your father was brave, but he lacked vision. You... you actually have grit."
I turned slowly.
Charles stood twenty feet away, his sniper rifle slung over his back, holding a silenced 9mm pistol pointed directly at my chest. Blood stained the left shoulder of his tactical jacket where Marcus had hit him, but his grip on the gun was steady as a rock.
"Give me the drive, Megan," Charles said softly. "And I'll make it quick. I won't let you suffer."
"Like you didn't let my father suffer?" I spat, taking a slow step toward the terminal door. "He died in a crushed car on Interstate 75 because he trusted your family!"
"Your father died for a cause bigger than himself!" Charles barked, his eyes flashing with a sudden, psychotic intensity. "The Vales built the logistics infrastructure that keeps this country moving! We control the ports, the rail lines, the supply chains! Julian was going to sell it all to foreign cartels for short-term profit! I did what I had to do to save my legacy!"
"You sacrificed human beings like chess pieces!" I shouted, stepping closer to the door.
"That is what leaders do!" Charles yelled over the sound of thunder. "You think those little old people in hospice cared about you? They used you for your company because they were terrified of dying alone! I gave you a purpose, Megan! I made you part of history!"
"You're not a leader, Charles," I said, my voice icy calm. "You're just a broken, lonely man hiding in a quiet blue house."
Charles's face contorted with rage. He raised the pistol, taking aim at my head. "Hand over the drive!"
"Look up," I whispered.
Charles frowned, his eyes instinctively darting upward toward the power lines above his head.
I didn't hesitate. I slammed my palm down on the emergency power-cutoff switch mounted on the exterior wall of the terminal building.
CLANG.
The heavy industrial breaker tripped. The massive 480-volt power cable running along the overhead gantry snapped free under the sudden electrical surge, sparking violently as it whipped down through the rain.
The live wire struck the wet metal puddle right at Charles's feet.
May you like
Blue electricity exploded across the pavement in a blinding flash. Charles shrieked as thousands of volts surged through his boots, knocking him off his feet and sending his pistol clattering across the wet concrete.
I didn't wait to see if he was breathing. I threw open the terminal door, ducked inside, and slammed the reinforced steel door shut behind me.
