Chapter 8 - THE STEEL CATWALK
The rain hit the cold concrete of the precinct steps like bullets.
Emily lay gasping on the pavement, her ribs screaming in agony from the kick. But the physical pain was nothing compared to the absolute, shattering terror of watching the black SUV disappear into the city with Mia.
She forced herself to her hands and knees. She reached into the puddle and closed her bruised fingers around the silver USB drive.
A shadow fell over her.
Emily flinched, expecting another of Dante’s men.
Instead, a strong hand gripped her shoulder, gently pulling her to her feet.
It was Alessandro.
He was drenched in rain, holding a stolen FBI pistol, his face a mask of terrifying, lethal focus. He had tracked Dante’s men via the GPS transponder in the SUV Dante had left running outside the safe house.
“They took her,” Emily sobbed, burying her face in his chest. “I couldn't stop them, Alessandro. They took her.”
Alessandro wrapped his free arm around her, holding her tightly. For a fraction of a second, the mafia boss let his own terror bleed through. He pressed his lips to the top of her wet hair.
“You kept her alive this long, Emily,” Alessandro whispered fiercely. “You did exactly what you were supposed to do. Now, I do what I am supposed to do.”
He pulled back, looking into her eyes.
“Did they take the drive?”
Emily opened her hand, revealing the silver USB. “No. I dropped it when they hit me. They only wanted Mia.”
“Good,” Alessandro said, his eyes darkening with a terrifying resolve. “Because Dante is taking her to the abandoned shipyard on the South Side. It’s where we used to smuggle weapons. He thinks he can use her to trade for the drive and the journal. He knows I escaped.”
“Let’s give it to him,” Emily pleaded. “Give him the empire. Just get her back.”
“I’m going to give him exactly what he deserves,” Alessandro said.
They stole a car from a nearby parking garage and sped toward the industrial district. The shipyard was a desolate wasteland of rusting shipping containers, towering steel cranes, and black, choppy water.
Alessandro parked three blocks away.
“Stay in the car,” he ordered. “Lock the doors. When this is over, take the drive to the press, not the police.”
“I’m not staying here,” Emily said, her voice shaking but resolute. “She called me Mommy, Alessandro. I’m not leaving her.”
Alessandro stared at her. He saw the same fierce, protective fire that had allowed her to survive the night Sofia died. He didn't argue. He handed her a heavy steel flashlight from the glovebox.
“Stay behind me.”
They infiltrated the shipyard through a cut in the chain-link fence. The rain masked the sound of their footsteps.
In the center of the yard, towering eighty feet above the concrete docks, was a massive, rusted steel catwalk connecting two shipping cranes.
Standing in the center of the catwalk, spotlighted by the headlights of two SUVs below, was Dante.
He was holding Mia by the collar of her pink denim jacket. The little girl was dangling dangerously close to the edge of the guardrail, crying hysterically over the rushing black water of the bay below.
“Alessandro!” Dante’s voice boomed over the wind, echoing through the shipyard. “I know you’re out there! You have three minutes to walk out into the light with the drive, or the kid learns how to fly!”
Alessandro’s jaw clenched. He stepped out from the shadows of a shipping container, raising his pistol.
“Let her go, Dante! You’re finished! Harris is compromised, and the feds know the truth!”
“They don't know anything without that drive!” Dante shouted, holding Mia tighter. “Bring it up here, boss! You and the waitress! Or I drop her right now!”
Alessandro looked at Emily. He nodded once.
They slowly climbed the rusted metal stairs of the crane, the wind howling around them. Every step was agonizing.
They reached the top of the catwalk. The steel grated floor was slick with rain. The drop below was dizzying, eighty feet straight down into the churning, freezing water.
Dante stood twenty feet away. He had a gun pointed at Alessandro’s chest, his other hand gripping Mia’s jacket.
“Toss the drive, Emily,” Dante ordered, a manic smile twisting his face. “Slide it across the grating.”
Emily stepped forward, holding the silver USB drive high so he could see it.
“Let her walk to me first,” Emily demanded, her voice cutting through the storm.
“You don't make the rules, sweetheart,” Dante sneered. He shifted his grip, pushing Mia’s small body slightly over the edge of the handrail.
Mia screamed.
“Okay! Okay!” Emily cried. She knelt down and slid the silver USB drive across the wet steel floor.
It skittered across the grating, stopping right at Dante’s expensive leather shoes.
Dante smiled. He knelt down, keeping his gun aimed at Alessandro, and picked up the drive.
“A pleasure doing business with you, boss.”
“You have the drive,” Alessandro said, his voice deadly quiet. “Let my daughter go.”
Dante chuckled. “You know the rules, Alessandro. No loose ends.”
Dante raised his gun, aiming directly at Emily’s head.
In that split second, Alessandro didn't shoot Dante. He knew if Dante died instantly, his dead weight would drag Mia over the edge.
Instead, Alessandro shot the heavy steel winch cable suspending a massive cargo hook directly above Dante’s head.
The bullet snapped the rusted locking mechanism. The massive, two-ton steel hook plummeted downward.
It didn't hit Dante, but it crashed violently into the catwalk grating inches from his feet.
The impact shattered the rusted steel walkway.
Dante screamed as the floor beneath him gave way. He pitched backward toward the eighty-foot drop.
But as he fell, his hand desperately grabbed the fabric of Mia’s jacket.
Mia was yanked violently over the guardrail.
“MIA!” Emily shrieked, diving forward with no regard for her own life.
Emily hit the wet steel grating, sliding toward the edge. She reached her hand through the broken bars of the handrail.
Her fingers closed around Mia’s tiny wrist just as Dante’s grip slipped from the jacket.
Dante fell into the darkness, screaming until his body hit the black water eighty feet below with a sickening, definitive crash.
But Mia didn't fall.
She was dangling over the abyss, held only by Emily’s desperate, slipping grip.
“I’ve got you!” Emily screamed, her muscles screaming in agony. The sharp edge of the rusted steel cut deeply into Emily’s forearms, tearing the scar above her eye open as she pressed her face against the metal. “Hold on, baby!”
Mia was crying hysterically, kicking her legs over the empty air. “Mommy! Don't let me go!”
“I won't! I promise I won't!”
Emily’s fingers were slipping. The rain made it impossible to hold on. The weight of the five-year-old was pulling her over the edge.
Suddenly, a massive, strong hand clamped around Emily’s wrist, anchoring her to the catwalk.
Another arm reached past her, grabbing Mia firmly by the back of her jacket.
It was Alessandro.
With a powerful, roaring heave, he pulled them both backward over the handrail, collapsing onto the solid steel grating.
Emily wrapped her entire body around Mia, burying her face in the little girl’s wet hair, sobbing uncontrollably.
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Alessandro wrapped his arms around both of them, pulling them tightly against his chest, burying his face in Emily’s neck.
They lay there in the freezing rain, clinging to each other, a broken, desperate family that had finally survived the storm.
