Chapter 4 - The Photograph in Rizzo’s Hand
Rizzo held Lily’s photograph as though it were a family portrait.
Elena moved in front of her daughter.
“Why do you have that?”
Rizzo smiled.
“Because children are useful.”
Grant stepped forward.
“Put it down.”
Anthony Rizzo had been seventy years old for as long as Grant could remember.
Age had not softened him.
His voice remained smooth.
Patient.
Fatherly.
That was what made him dangerous.
“Grant.”
“Anthony.”
“I see Victor has returned from the dead.”
Victor raised his gun.
Rizzo chuckled.
“You always were theatrical.”
Grant said, “Why are you here?”
“To stop you from making a mistake.”
“Which one?”
“Believing him.”
Victor laughed.
“Of course.”
Rizzo placed Lily’s picture on the table.
Elena noticed writing on the back.
A time.
6:30 P.M.
Tomorrow.
She turned it over.
A location.
Pier 19.
Her stomach tightened.
Grant heard the paper.
“What is it?”
Elena told him.
Rizzo said, “Insurance.”
Grant moved so fast even Daniel reacted.
He grabbed Rizzo by the coat.
“Against what?”
Rizzo stayed calm.
“Against misunderstanding.”
“Touch that child and there will not be enough of you left to bury.”
Rizzo smiled.
“There’s the Grant I remember.”
Victor raised his weapon.
“Tell him.”
Rizzo ignored Victor.
“Five years ago, your brother made a mess.”
Victor scoffed.
“I found your theft.”
“You found a system you didn’t understand.”
Grant released Rizzo.
“What system?”
Rizzo looked toward the windows.
“The city runs on compromise.”
“No speeches.”
Rizzo smiled faintly.
“Fine.”
He admitted it.
Money.
Bribery.
Routes.
Officials.
Private security contracts.
But he denied ordering Grant’s murder.
“The explosion wasn’t mine.”
Victor shouted, “Liar.”
Rizzo turned.
“You’ve spent six years blaming the wrong man.”
“Marcus worked for you.”
“Yes.”
Grant’s head lifted.
Rizzo continued.
“After he betrayed me.”
Silence.
Rizzo explained that Marcus had his own arrangement.
A pharmaceutical trafficking network moving experimental compounds through Mercer-controlled docks.
Peter Marlow discovered irregular invoices.
Victor discovered them later.
Rizzo claimed he tried to contain the scandal.
Marcus chose violence.
“You’re saying Marcus ordered the explosion?” Grant asked.
“Yes.”
“Proof.”
“Ask Elena’s husband.”
Elena’s face tightened.
“He’s dead.”
Rizzo looked at her.
“So you believe.”
Everything stopped.
Elena stepped closer.
“What?”
Rizzo smiled.
“Peter Marlow survived.”
Lily clung to her leg.
Elena stared.
“No.”
Victor looked equally shocked.
Rizzo continued.
“Marcus kept him alive.”
“Why?”
“Because Peter knew where the records were.”
Elena’s voice broke.
“You’re lying.”
“Pier 19. Tomorrow. Six-thirty.”
He nodded toward Lily’s photograph.
“If you want answers.”
Grant said, “Why Lily?”
“To make sure Elena comes.”
Grant moved toward him again.
Daniel stepped between them.
Rizzo lifted a hand.
“Kill me and you lose Peter.”
Elena’s mind raced.
Her husband.
Alive.
For four years she had mourned him.
Lily had grown up with a photograph beside her bed.
Every birthday, Elena told her that her father would have loved her.
Every Christmas, Lily asked if people in heaven could see Christmas lights.
Could Peter be alive?
Grant heard Elena crying quietly.
“Elena.”
She wiped her face.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.”
Rizzo said, “Nobody in this room is.”
Grant turned toward him.
“You’re staying.”
Rizzo shook his head.
“You don’t have the leverage.”
Victor laughed.
“We have guns.”
“And I have forty men downstairs.”
Daniel checked his device.
No signal.
Rizzo smiled.
“You can’t contact your people.”
Grant turned to Daniel.
“Can we leave?”
“Not through normal exits.”
Victor said, “Roof.”
Rizzo sighed.
“That helicopter pilot works for me.”
Grant smiled.
“Good.”
Rizzo frowned.
Grant turned toward Daniel.
“Send him a message.”
“No signal.”
“Fire alarm panel.”
Daniel understood.
The building’s emergency system had a hardwired connection.
Two minutes later, every fire alarm in the penthouse activated.
Sprinklers burst.
Rizzo’s composure vanished.
“What are you doing?”
“Creating witnesses.”
Sirens began outside.
Residents on lower floors evacuated.
Firefighters approached.
Rizzo could control hired guards.
He could not quietly control forty firefighters, police officers, residents, and news cameras.
Grant leaned close.
“Leave.”
Rizzo’s voice hardened.
“Tomorrow. Pier 19.”
“Bring Peter.”
Rizzo smiled.
“If Marcus hasn’t killed him first.”
He left.
Victor stared after him.
“He’s manipulating us.”
Grant nodded.
“Obviously.”
Elena held the photograph.
“But if Peter is alive…”
“We go.”
Victor objected.
“Grant.”
“We go.”
“It’s a trap.”
“All meetings with Anthony are traps.”
Grant touched Elena’s shoulder.
“We prepare better.”
Rebecca Sloan arrived shortly before dawn using a firefighter escort Daniel arranged.
She tested Grant again.
His visual response had improved.
“Describe what you see.”
Grant stared toward the window.
“Brightness.”
“Shapes?”
“One.”
Elena stood near him.
“What shape?”
He turned toward her.
“You.”
Her heart skipped.
“You can see me?”
“Outline.”
Rebecca smiled.
“That’s progress.”
Lily ran into the room holding a red stuffed rabbit.
“Can you see Bunny?”
Grant crouched.
He squinted.
“A blob.”
Lily gasped.
“He called Bunny a blob.”
Grant smiled.
“Apologies to Bunny.”
For several seconds, the terrible events of the night disappeared.
Elena watched Lily press the stuffed rabbit into Grant’s hands.
A strange warmth passed through her.
Grant had always seemed carved from stone.
Lily kept finding the man underneath.
Rebecca interrupted softly.
“Grant, your blood results.”
The warmth vanished.
“What?”
“The compound Marcus used is clearing.”
“And?”
“There’s something else.”
She handed the report to Elena.
“Long-term exposure created neurological dependency.”
Grant frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“If stopped abruptly, you could experience seizures.”
Elena looked up.
“Could he die?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“Yes.”
Grant’s expression did not change.
Lily was still standing beside him.
He reached for her head and gently guided her toward Elena.
“Take her out.”
Elena understood.
She brought Lily to Daniel.
Then returned.
Rebecca explained.
Grant needed controlled withdrawal.
Medication.
Monitoring.
Possibly hospitalization.
Grant refused.
“I’m going to Pier 19.”
“You may collapse.”
“Then keep me upright.”
Rebecca glared.
“You’re impossible.”
“So I’ve been told.”
Elena stepped in.
“You’re not going alone.”
Grant turned toward her.
“I wasn’t planning to.”
Victor prepared vehicles.
Daniel assembled six trusted men.
No digital communication.
No standard routes.
Grant spent the afternoon testing his returning sight.
At first, everything appeared as light and shadow.
By four o’clock he could distinguish furniture.
At five, Elena stood across the room.
“What do you see?”
Grant stared.
“A woman.”
“Helpful.”
“Dark hair.”
She smiled.
“Better.”
“White apron.”
“Very impressive.”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Annoying expression.”
She laughed.
Grant smiled.
Then his expression softened.
“I haven’t seen a face in five years.”
Elena’s smile disappeared.
“Do you remember them?”
“Some.”
“Your mother?”
“Yes.”
“Victor?”
“I remember him younger.”
He paused.
“I’m afraid I won’t recognize myself.”
Elena understood more than he expected.
“You’re still you.”
Grant turned toward her voice.
“That sounds suspiciously hopeful.”
“I have a three-year-old. Hope is mandatory.”
At 6:05, they left.
Pier 19 was abandoned.
Fog drifted over the river.
Containers formed narrow corridors.
Grant could make out shapes.
Daniel led.
Victor covered the rear.
Elena stayed beside Grant.
Lily remained with Rebecca at a secure apartment.
At 6:29, a light appeared inside Warehouse C.
Rizzo stood alone.
“Where’s Peter?” Elena demanded.
Rizzo pointed.
A chair sat under the hanging light.
Someone was tied to it.
Thin.
Bearded.
Head lowered.
Elena stopped breathing.
“Peter?”
The man raised his head.
Her knees nearly gave out.
Older.
Scarred.
But unmistakable.
“Elena.”
She ran.
Grant caught her arm.
“Wait.”
Too late.
A red laser appeared on Peter’s chest.
Sniper.
Daniel shouted.
“DOWN!”
Gunfire erupted.
Rizzo vanished behind a container.
Victor returned fire.
Elena crawled toward Peter.
Grant followed.
He could see flashes.
Shapes.
Movement.
Then he saw something impossible.
A man walking calmly through the gunfire.
White medical coat.
Marcus Vale.
Marcus stopped beside Peter.
Pressed a gun to his head.
May you like
And shouted across the warehouse:
“Grant, choose.”
