Chapter 6 - Harbor Seventeen
I was already moving toward the door.
Dante blocked me.
"Move."
"No."
"He has Tommy."
"And that's why you're not running in there."
"Get out of my way."
"Lena."
I shoved him.
It was stupid.
He barely moved.
I shoved him again.
"That is my brother."
"I know."
"You don't know anything."
His face changed.
"I know exactly what it feels like to discover the man who raised you may have murdered your father."
That stopped me.
Dante lowered his voice.
"And I know what happens when anger drives instead of you."
I hated that line because it sounded like something Dad would say.
"Then what?"
"We give Rafael what he wants."
"The key?"
"Something that looks like it."
Nico stepped forward.
"He'll know."
Dante looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because Rafael designed the lock."
Silence.
Of course he did.
The night kept finding new ways to become worse.
Cole moved toward his equipment.
"I can get tactical support."
Nico laughed.
"And alert Price?"
Cole stopped.
"We don't know which agents are clean," Dante said.
Cole hated agreeing.
But he did.
We needed a plan built from people we barely trusted.
It sounded impossible.
Maybe that was why it worked.
Nico knew Harbor 17.
Cole knew federal surveillance.
Dante knew Rafael.
And I knew cars.
Sometimes four broken pieces made one usable machine.
We arrived near the garage thirty minutes later.
I drove.
Dante sat beside me.
Nico and Cole followed in another vehicle.
"You okay?" Dante asked.
"No."
"Good."
I glanced at him.
He explained.
"People who say they're fine before something like this make mistakes."
"Comforting."
"I'm trying."
"You're bad at it."
"I've been told."
I parked behind the plumbing warehouse.
The garage security feed showed Rafael still inside with Tommy.
Marco had moved.
Alive.
Barely.
That mattered.
Rafael called Dante.
"Come alone."
Dante put the call on speaker.
"You know me better than that."
"I knew you when you slept with a baseball glove under your pillow."
Dante's jaw tightened.
"You taught me to throw."
"I taught you everything Carlo was too busy to teach."
"Did you teach me how to murder family too?"
Silence.
Rafael sighed.
"Your father was weak at the end."
Dante's face became terrifyingly calm.
"So you did it."
"I corrected a problem."
I watched Dante's hand close into a fist.
Rafael continued.
"Bring the key and the girl."
"No."
"The girl comes or the brother dies."
My stomach twisted.
Dante looked at me.
I nodded.
"No weapons," Rafael said.
"Five minutes."
The call ended.
Dante turned to me.
"You stay behind me."
"Absolutely not."
"Lena."
"We've done this conversation."
"This time listen."
"No."
He almost smiled.
"Fine. Beside me."
We entered through the front.
Same garage.
Same tools.
Same smell.
Nothing felt like home anymore.
Tommy sat in a chair beneath the lift.
Rafael stood behind him.
Seventy-something.
Elegant coat.
Silver hair.
Wooden cane.
Gun steady in his left hand.
He looked less like a mobster than someone's wealthy grandfather.
Maybe that was his greatest weapon.
Dante stopped twenty feet away.
"Uncle."
Rafael smiled sadly.
"You look like Carlo when you're angry."
"Don't say his name."
"I loved your father."
"You killed him."
"I saved what he built."
"You stole it."
Rafael's gaze shifted to me.
"Lena Hart."
"Let my brother go."
"You have Daniel's eyes."
"I've heard enough about my father tonight."
Rafael laughed softly.
"He was stubborn too."
"Did you kill him?"
"No."
The answer came cleanly.
Too cleanly.
I stared.
"Then who did?"
"Samuel Price."
Cole's warning echoed through my mind.
Rafael continued.
"Price panicked when Daniel approached the Bureau. He feared the ledger."
Dante said, "And you let it happen."
"I approved it."
There was no regret.
Tommy flinched.
I wanted to cross the garage and end him with my bare hands.
Instead I held up the black key.
"You want this?"
Rafael's eyes changed.
Greed.
Fear.
Both.
"Bring it."
"Tommy first."
"No."
"Then we stand here."
His gun pressed closer to Tommy.
My brother shut his eyes.
Dante whispered, "Lena."
I knew.
We had planned this.
I walked forward.
Ten steps.
Nine.
Eight.
Rafael extended his free hand.
I placed the key into it.
He looked down.
One second.
That was enough.
Tommy threw himself sideways.
I dropped.
Dante moved.
The garage exploded into motion.
Rafael fired.
The bullet shattered a work light.
Dante slammed him against the lift.
I crawled toward Tommy.
Cole and Nico entered from opposite doors.
Rafael's gun skidded across the floor.
Dante pinned him.
"You murdered my father."
Rafael laughed.
"No."
Dante hit him.
"I told you. Price did."
"Because you ordered it."
Rafael's smile disappeared.
"I ordered Daniel Hart's death."
I froze.
Dante did too.
Rafael continued.
"Carlo was different."
"What?"
"Your father died because Daniel betrayed me."
The world stopped.
Dante stepped back.
"Explain."
Rafael straightened his coat as though they were discussing business over dinner.
"Carlo discovered Harbor 17. He wanted to expose Salvi, Price, me, everyone."
"We know."
"What you don't know is Daniel convinced him to record a confession."
My father.
"Carlo planned to give the recording to prosecutors."
Rafael looked at me.
"Daniel hid it."
"Where?"
"Harbor 17."
Dante said, "And Carlo?"
Rafael's expression became almost amused.
"Carlo died before telling me where."
"How?"
Rafael looked toward Nico.
"You were there."
Nico's face tightened.
"I left before Carlo died."
"Yes."
"Who stayed?"
Rafael didn't answer.
Dante grabbed his coat.
"Who?"
Rafael whispered:
"Victor Salvi."
There it was.
Not Rafael.
Not Nico.
Maybe Salvi killed Carlo.
Maybe Price killed Dad.
Maybe the truth was finally narrowing.
Then Rafael smiled again.
"But none of that matters if Salvi reaches Harbor 17 first."
Dante released him.
"What did you do?"
Rafael looked toward the key in his palm.
"It's not the real key."
Of course not.
We had switched it.
Rafael's expression hardened.
"You think you're clever?"
Dante said, "Occasionally."
A phone rang.
Rafael's.
Nobody moved.
Then another phone rang.
Mine.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Victor Salvi spoke.
"Lena Hart."
My skin crawled.
"You're difficult to find."
"Apparently not."
He laughed.
"I have something that belonged to your father."
"What?"
"His final recording."
My breath stopped.
"He knew who killed Carlo. He knew who ordered his own death. And he left one more name."
Dante stared at me.
Salvi continued.
"Bring the real key to Harbor 17."
"Why would I?"
"Because I'm standing inside the archive."
Impossible.
Then I remembered.
A key opened the archive.
But maybe not the building.
Salvi said, "And Lena?"
"What?"
"You should hurry."
A metallic sound echoed through the phone.
A lock turning.
May you like
Then Salvi whispered:
"I just found Carlo Moretti's confession."
